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to be home as often as possible. He never pressured me to make our relationship sexual. He knew I was to scared to become fully involved with him. We did mess around a bit, lots of touching and kissing. But the actual bonding of our relationship did not come until I had a life changing unbelievable encounter. One day I was out walking in the park and sat down on a bench next to an elderly woman. She was watching all the children playing. I noticed that she had very sad eyes even though she was smiling. I said, “Hi, Are you watching your grandchildren play?” She said, “No, I like to come to this park and think about the past. I like to watch the kids play while I think.” When I didn’t respond she continued talking. “About twenty years ago, In this very town I met the love of my life. I had been scorned many times in my life and resisted his advances. I did not want to admit how much I loved him. I even pretended to hate him for a while. He eventually got tired of waiting on me and went on with his life. I lost him because my heart was blinded by pain. Now I sit here day in and day out, fondly remembering him.” Her words touched my heart. I felt sorry for her and said, “That is so sad um.. Can I ask your name?” I kid you not, that old lady turned to me and looked me in the eye and said, “My name doesn’t matter, Jackie. Look long and hard at me, for I am a prediction of what is to come if you don’t stop being afraid. You are going to lose him if you don’t open your heart and let him in.” I turned my head away, momentarily to try to absorb her words. When I turned back to ask her how she knew my name, she was gone. I sat there for a long time, feeling very confused and wondering if it had all been a dream. The rest of the day was spent with me walking and thinking about my life. I wasn’t sure if I would ever understand what happened in that park. But I knew it was a sign that I had to make a choice. I went home and took a long bath. Then I dressed in my nicest clothes and went to see Gordon. He looked surprised when he opened his door and saw me all dressed up and holding a dozen red roses. I handed them to him and said, “I need to talk to you.” He laughed and said, “Flowers for me from my lady! It must be my lucky day.” We walked into his living room and sat on the sofa. He said, “What’s on your mind? You look troubled.” I shook my head no and said, “Gordon, I should have told you this a long time ago. I love you with all my heart and soul.” He froze and looked totally stunned for a few seconds. Then he said, “You don’t know how much I longed to hear those words come out of your mouth, Jackie. I have dreamed of this since the day you came to see me in the hospital. I have loved you since I opened my eyes and saw you standing at the window crying while I lay there all wrapped up in those bandages.” As he spoke to me, tears began to pour down his face. I had never believed a man before when he said, I love you. But I knew Gordon was telling the truth at that moment. I started to cry to and wrapped my arms around him. “I don’t ever want to let you go. You are the most important person in my life.”, I told him. He said, “Well then don’t let go. Marry me, Jackie.” I sat back and stuttered, “Ww-ha- tt?” He slid off the sofa and knelt on one knee in front of me and said, “Please marry me, my lady.” “Oh my God!”, I cried out. Then I said, “Oh yes, Gordon. Let’s get married. I love you so much.” I fell into his arms, knocking him flat on his back on the carpeted floor. Our lips melted into a heated kiss as we began to fumble with each others clothes. All the sexual tension that had built up over the previous two years came rushing out of both of us. We were both naked in less than a minute. He slipped out from under me and scooped me up, carrying me through his house to his bed. He lay me down and crawled next to me. He began to nuzzle my neck, planting soft kisses on my skin, working his way around to the other side of my head. He gently blew in each of my ears before kissing my mouth sensually again. Then he gradually began to work his way downward, leaving trails of butterfly kisses across my soft skin. He was so tender with each touch, it was as if he was trying to savor every moment with me. I gasped in pleasure when he cupped my full breasts in his hands, covering each of them in numerous soft licks. As he moved on down, he paused at my belly button to flick it with his tongue. I arched my back and squirmed, wanting him to continue his journey down to my nether regions. At last he ended my agony by burying his face between my legs. He carefully began to lavish me with gentle licks. Taking his time like it was his last meal. Each time I responded to one of his touches with a moan or cry of pleasure, he repeated it. He seemed to thrive from giving me pleasure. His long tongue swirled delightfully through my pink folds. Gordon did not let up with his persistent licking until I squealed in ecstacy, releasing a flow of hot juices into his mouth. He greedily lapped up every drop and then licked me clean. Then he moved up the bed and lay down next to me. I gasped for breath until my heart rate slowed then I smiled and said, “If memory serves me right, I owe you a tongue bath from that day at the hospital.” I saw his eyes twinkle at the thought of it. He watched me move between his legs. I positioned myself so I could look into his eyes as I tasted him. His staff was standing at full attention and glistening with pre-cum. I ran the tip of my tongue across the tip of it, swirling it slowly through the sticky fluid. He moaned as I tickled him with each lick. My tongue gradually moved down the sides, going up and down. Then I sucked his full length into my mouth, taking him in like I would suck a popsicle. Our gaze on each others eyes stayed locked as I bobbed my head up and down. Every time I took him in a little deeper. When I felt him twitching against my tongue, I pulled back and gripped him firmly with my hand. He whimpered in agony. I held him tight until he relaxed a bit. Then I climbed up onto of him, straddling his hips. I said, “Be patient with me. It’s been a long time since I have been with a man.” He smiled and put his hands on my waist, guiding me down onto his shaft. Our moans filled the room as his manhood entered my tight crevice. My juices coated his length, making it easier to work his size into me. I closed my eyes and began to rock against him. He met my every move. We took our time, not wanting to hurry the event we had both waited so long for. The way he felt inside me at that moment is almost indescribable. It was the most incredible sex I’ve ever had in my life. The anticipation for the moment had built so long that I thought I was going die of pleasure as I wrapped my muscles around his girth. I moved slowly, enjoying every second of what I was feeling. I knew Gordon was having immense pleasure as well because he was groaning louder each time I took him deeper inside me. As orgasm approached, he pulled me against his chest, kissing me with the utmost urgency. Our tongues danced wildly against one another as the moment peaked. Gordon slammed his pelvis upward as hard as he could, making the tip of his muscle hit my cervix. His hot cream painted my insides as my juices began to flow. Our moans of pleasure did not subside until we had both experienced countless climaxes. When our lips parted, I opened my eyes and looked at him. We both said, “Wow!”, at the same instant then laughed. I rolled over onto the bed and lay my head on his chest. His heart pounded against my ear as he breathed heavily. From where my head was resting I could see his manhood. After a few moments, I noticed that it had not softened. I lifted my face to look at him. He was smiling and said, “It had been a long time for me as well. It might take me a while to catch up.” I gave him a knowing look and said, “Good.” Then I rolled onto a pillow, allowing him to climb between my legs in missionary position. He slowly entered my dripping wet valley. That time he was able to easily slide in because of all the juices. I gyrated my hips in rhythm with his movements as he made love to me. We stared deep into each others eyes, lost within one another. He pressed his chest against my breasts as he stroked in and out. I enjoyed the feel of his body as it tickled my hard nipples. He never changed his pace, moving steadily and not wanting to rush the moment. I panted faster and faster as the intensity grew. Small orgasms began to ripple through my body. I cried out in pleasure as each one shook me. He groaned each time I climaxed but continued at his pace. When he finally reached orgasm, he hollered, “Oh yes, my lady!” He collapsed against my bosom as his hot semen overfilled my womanhood, oozing down my thighs. I sighed in contentment as we fell asleep in each others arms. I awoke sometime later feeling all hot and sticky. I slipped out of the bed and went to take a shower. When I was finished, Gordon was sitting up in bed waiting for me. He said, “Can I ask you a question?” I nodded my head. He said, “Do you mind if we go on our honeymoon to Scotland?” I laughed and said, “Mind? Hell no! I would be mad if we went anywhere else.” We talked it over the next few weeks and decided to get married on my birthday. It was a simple ceremony with just a few close friends and family. After the reception, we went straight to the air port. I was very nervous on the flight from New York to the U.K. Flashbacks of what had happened two Gordon several years before kept entering my mind. During the flight, I had a tight grip on his hand. When the plane finally landed in Scotland, he had to pry my fingers lose from his. We stayed at a castle deep in the mountains. It had been converted into an Inn. Our honeymoon lasted a week. Every moment of it was romantic. When we got back home, I moved into Gordon’s house the following day. In spite of our age differences, Gordon has been wonderful. He has treated me like a queen throughout our marriage. Now that I sit here writing this story, twenty years later, I have to think back to the day that old lady appeared in the park. Maybe she was a figment of my imagination, maybe she wasn’t. Either way, I have to thank her for showing me that it was time to open my heart and let true love inside. _Please vote for this story. Reader feedback is greatly appreciated._

Liz crouched in the glum darkness, breathing quietly hoping that no one had heard her. The tight black outfit helped her blend into the shadow cast by the counter above, she knew that sure, but yet felt she stuck out like a nail waiting to be hammered down. She stilled her mind, trying to calm her heart that was beating so loudly in her ears. All was calm. Her eyes cast rapidly from one window to another, her hiding place allowing her to see the entrance and through two of the three windows that hadn't been smashed and boarded up. There had been so much damage after the Turmoil back in '21 that such looting and wanton violence had been commonplace. If anything, the fact that three windows still stood was a surprise. Liz kept looking for the telltale sweep of light of the Guards outside. She could hear the menacing growl of their 8-wheeled Mobile Detention Unit slowly grinding its way along the street. 'Sit tight and see it out' she silently repeated, a calming mantra that had seen her through far darker hours. Liz had never been inside one of the MDUs, and didn't know a single person that had - usually you either never made it out, or were so thoroughly processed at the detention centres that the Guards eventually took their captives to, once they had finished satisfying themselves of course. Liz had heard the stories around the fire of her clan; daring escapes, terrible tortures and abuses. In these stories men were dealt with summary justice, but the women were prized assets, worth something in the centres and later, if you manage to last long enough, to the elite as slave girls. Or worse. A grimace passed over Liz's face in the dark, and her core tightened as she tried to stop her mind wandering over what lay in store if she were discovered. The strong beam of light arcing through the grimy glass refocused her attention as the Guards patrol continued, trapping Liz where she was for a while longer yet. The light refracted through the dirty broken window, changing the lengths of shadows around her, making her centre of a monotone kaleidoscope, oppressively threatening and lifeless. The shafts of dirty light her prison bars. She couldn't move now for fear of being seen, and so mentally digging herself in she tried to dwell on happier thoughts as her eyes followed the particles of dust twirling and dancing over the stage of the Guards spotlights. Liz thought of Rebecca. Her soft brown eyes, her ready smile and infectious laugh, the curve of her cheeks and the softness of her lips. It still made her heart race and then instantly it was filled with sadness and yearning. They hadn't been together too long, and neither of them were used to female partners, but the connection was strong and Liz really felt something like hope when she was with her, and hope had felt like a long way away for years. Back in 2020 a terrorist organisation had begun a coordinated attack on the water supplies. Initially the usual suspects got blamed, and no one really looked beyond what was happening within their own borders. Six months on from that and all hell was starting to break loose, freshwater was scarce and those with access to it were protective and unwilling to share. This was happening the world over, industries ground to a halt and for a moment there was a peaceful pause where humanity teetered on the precipice of chaos. The first serious riots happened in London in the winter of 2020, and spread like wildfire throughout the country, then the continent, then the world. It was unstoppable, people expressing their discontent, their distrust of everyone, their anger at their own futile impotence. The following years had been chaos, the old structures of government, of life, torn up and scattered to the wind. Now the Republic was in charge, an unelected untouchable elite that ruled with an iron fist, usually in the shape of the Guard. The rest of the population were left to fight over the scraps in what remained of their towns and cities. Many formed rag-tag communities to offer safety in numbers, a semblance order, and these tribes began to dominate the parts the Guards couldn't get to. Life was savage in the tribes. Food and water were always short, and enmity between the tribes grew as time wore on; Liz knew it wouldn't be long until some kind of turf war broke out again. Like many, Liz had had to choose between taking up with one of the tribes and risking being taken by the Guards. When the Republic had first been formed the Guards swept out to quell any opposition, picking up and imprisoning anyone they felt were not fully submitted to the new regime. As Liz sat in the darkness her mind wandered to the judging ceremony that had been necessary to join her tribe, which had been both nerve wracking but also the occasion she had first met Rebecca. Rebecca was the tribe leaders - Cee's - partner. Wife almost, if anyone still stuck with such tradition. That, of course, didn't preclude Cee taking other women as he wished. All potential new recruits were judged by Cee in front of the tribe in large ceremonies: men were forced to fight one another, either to the death or until Cee commanded them to stop and declared a winner. The women were spared the ritual of combat but were given agility and marksmanship tests and finally some were called up to Cee's chamber in the tribe's communal tower. No woman ever refused unless they didn't want to join the tribe. Before the Turmoil, Liz had taken care of her body, and her strength and suppleness had stood her in good stead for the first few months on the streets, and in the tribes tests. She had no problems with performing the agility routines as set and her marksmanship was amongst the best. She finished the ordeal feeling as positive as she could whilst trying to ignoring the consequence of failure - she needed the protection of the tribe following a run in the previous week and if not accepted today knew that it wouldn't be long before she ran into the gang of wasters again, her insults ringing in their ears. As they'd stood in the holding area after the tests Liz had felt sick with nerves, anxious to be allowed in but listening with a sinking feeling as the others talked of Cee's we'll known habits with new girls. Finally, after an eternity, a burly man in a tattered uniform came down and barked out a few names, and the women duly followed him out of the room, leaving four other women with Liz. She looked around the room, not knowing whether they were the rejected or the successful ones. Liz couldn't help herself from sizing up the competition, noting that several had very toned shoulders and upper arms, their sinewy muscles barely concealed by their scant clothing. Talk was scarce between them, although their eyes spoke of an anxiousness of what was come. Finally the man in the uniform returned and led them to a metal cage lift, silently ushered them in and closed the gate behind him. His natural actions and unspoken menace, the way he had led them into the cage without one of the women questioning made Liz think of him as a sheepdog, drawing a grim smile as she realised them made them the sheep. Pulling on a lever, the cage jolted and was slowly hoisted upwards. The cage ground upward, it's rusty chain squealing in protests, or maybe sending a warning to its cargo. Certainly Liz became eager for its inexorable journey to end so she could get out and deal with whatever was coming. After rising 6 or 7 floors - Liz lost count in its slow passage - the lever was pulled and the cage jerked to a halt. The girls, not a word said between them now as they prepared themselves mentally, were led through double doors and into the heart of Cee's quarters. Liz stood staring into a cavernous room, deeply disappointed. Somewhere in her mind she had conjured up an opulent, luxuriant room, all gold and ivory for this powerful man to prove his ownership and leadership of these new women. As distasteful as it would've been, Liz had mentally prepared herself to grit her teeth and see the evening through, the consequences of failure being far far worse. But here and now, confronted by a dull concrete room little different to every other room it was much more difficult to imagine conceding. Even more so when she saw the faces of the audience, Cee's closest advisors and hangers-on. This was one of their favourite perks; watching and sometimes helping with breaking in the newbs. Their eyes were lit with lust and animal desire, roaming over the women, itching to strip them down and take them. The women were ushered further into the room and the doors closed heavily behind them, large bolts scraped securely across. Liz flicked her eyes around the many faces, seeking an ally or an escape route. She found nothing except lust and weapons that could be turned against her. She swallowed hard. Cee emerged from the throng, a tall, lean, strong man that had the baring of power if not of kindness. He stalked towards them as if they were felled prey, unable to escape him. Liz took a step back, as did all but the woman at the front of the group. Liz hadn't really heard her speak, had no idea of her name, but as Cee moved closer she could see the muscles in her shoulders tense, her thighs tighten and her fists clench. Make that just one fist as Liz noticed the other inching into a concealed pocket on her hip. Cee boasted loudly to his audience of his power to command such beauty to his chambers, how he wished to share such gifts to his loyal friends. Boisterous cheers resounded each more eager to appease their chief. He casually sauntered towards them, admiring the curves of his new women. Liz burned with embarrassment as he walked past her, brushing her arm and breast with his hand as he snaked between them. Finally he returned to the front of the group and ran his hand over the woman at the front. "And what is your name?" he asked, almost as much for show as to actually find out. "Sarah" she replied through gritted teeth, her hand no longer sliding into her pocket, instead her fingers now curling around the handle of a sharp thin blade. Now standing directly behind her Liz watched Sarah's hand grip tightly and her weight shift slightly making it quite obvious to her from her detached vantage point that she was about to drive her hidden blade into Cee. Liz had no love for this man but right now he was the lesser of two evils. Sometimes on a dark night Liz would re run the decision and wonder what might have become of her if she hadn't cried out at that moment, and could never really decide which fate would've been worse. "Look out, she's got a knife!" The words seemed to escape Liz's mouth before she'd even made a decision to save Cee. He grabbed Sarah just above the elbows and swept his leg behind and then through hers, bringing her crashing painfully to the floor. He followed her down, pinning her arms with his knees as several of his lackeys dived in and emptied her hands of thin blade. His knees dug in deeply to her toned arms as he knelt up and slapped her hard, snarling. The crack of his hand on her cheek made Liz gasp and her stomach crunch a little, but yet she was unable to take her eyes off the pretty, traitorous girl and the handsome angry man pinning her down. "Oh you're going to pay for that you stupid slut." he snarled at her defiant face. Sarah mustered her last ounce of rebellion and spat hard at him, receiving the back of his hand on the other cheek as payment. "Bring me the gag, now!" he furiously demanded and within a few moments a large leather ball gag was in his hand and being rammed hard against Sarah's resisting mouth. She twisted and turned her head, her jaw clamped tightly, her hips wildly bucking trying to throw her oppressor off. Liz watched on, captivated by the futile struggle, knowing that eventually Sarah would be stilled, the gag firmly inserted and her body punished for her insurrection. Much to her shame, Liz realised that she was enjoying watching, that her nipples had stiffened and that there was a shameful warmth growing in her pussy. Cee struggled for a moment more with the gag on Sarah's mouth before one of his men firmly grabbed her hair on either side of her head and held it firmly. Despite her best efforts she yelped and the gag was wedged into her open mouth. With her head pinned by the henchman it was an easy enough task for Cee to tighten the buckle and secure Sarah's silence. Kneeling over his captive Cee bore down on her, snarling and sneering at her undoubtedly pretty face. "That's better bitch." he spat out angrily, clearly still furious and with angry adrenalin coursing through him. Liz managed to tear her eyes away for a moment to notice that the circle of voyeurs had closed somewhat and that there was little more that a few feet between her and them. No guns - bullets were too precious now - but knives were drawn and clubs being brandished meaning Liz knew that she had no option but to watch. The other women looked equally nervous, eyes darting around the enclosing menacing faces and the sight of Cee's muscular body dominating Sarah. "Bring me the fresh meat." snarled Cee, never taking his eyes from his captive prey. Liz and the others hesitated and were prodded into moving forward by unseen hands. "It seems we have a traitor here girls," Cee continued "and I can't have that. I won't allow that. This bitch is going to get punished." He squeezed her helpless face and rolled the words around his mouth before spitting them at her. "Now, I want each of you new girls to hold her down. You let go and it's your turn next. Is that clear?" His snarl made clear the result of not complying. Liz nodded slowly, like they all did. There was nowhere to go, no way of escape, and there was a terrible part of her that she was trying hard to ignore that wanted to see what happened next. They each took a limb, Liz taking Sarah's left arm and secured them as best they could. Kneeling or sitting on them, grasping them tightly. All the girls were fit and strong, they needed to be to have got this far in this newly terrible world and Sarah's resistance was weakening. The women restraining her legs had been told to spread them wide and they had of course dutifully obliged. Taking Sarah's knife Cee traced its sharp point gently down from the tip of her ear towards her jaw. Her eyes widened in fear, her head turned towards Liz away from the knife as it edged its way down to her leather bodice. Liz couldn't help but be aroused by the sight of this pretty woman, pinned down and gagged, having her clothes cut off her and undoubtedly to be fucked spitefully hard. She wished it was her and was so glad it wasn't in equal measure. 'God I'm so fucked up'; the thought floated through her mind as her clit responded with a delicious twitch. Sarah's knife was sharp and Cee's hand strong and steady as it carved through her bodice down to her navel. Even after it had been cut open its rigid boned structure held it in place until Cee ripped it off. Her breasts were surprisingly large and full, her nipples hard through fear and the sudden cold. Although Liz wondered whether there was anything else mixed in with that, maybe the fucked up lust she was feeling now. Sarah had closed her eyes meaning Liz could stare fixedly on Cee's hands as they continued to open his prize. Sarah had cropped leather trousers that again offered no resistance to the knife as he cut through the waistband and down each leg. He cut slowly, methodically, prolonging the torture before finally pulling them away, leaving Sarah in nothing but a small black thong. There could be no denying that she had a hot body, her toned stomach tense after the knife had been run over it. Liz silently urged Cee to cut off the knickers so that she could see her pussy and chastised herself for not pinning down a leg for a better view. Cee obliged her wished though and after circling the knife a little more ran it over her abs and over the flimsy fabric of her knickers. Sarah tensed and made a muffled moan through the gag, although Liz couldn't tell if was of protests or desire. Cee cut off the thin straps that ran around her hips and pulled them off, holding them up to the baying crowd. Sarah's pussy was smooth and plump, goosebumped from the coldness of the knife, just how Cee liked it. The fight, the assertion of his dominance, the prettiness of his assailant had all got his blood pumping to his hard cock. Having stripped his prize he was very close to claiming her. To teach her a rough, painful lesson before throwing her to the crazed, drooling pack. But he relented, as cruel as he undoubtedly was, he loved fucking his Rebecca far too much to risk catching anything from would-be assassins. He'd heard it said that rival tribes sometimes sent infected women to seduce rival Chiefs. He couldn't risk it. He began to run his fingers over Sarah's pussy as she shouted at him through the gag. 'A good show of protest' he thought as his finger slid into her and was covered in her thick warm wetness. My god he was temped. Liz watched, captivated by the show. Watched as Sarah's body tensed as Cee's thick fingers slid into her defenceless, shamefully wet cunt. Watched as Cee called his men to take over whilst the successful initiates, Liz and her scared lift companions held each writhing struggling limb down. With a searing wrench Liz was drawn back into the grim grey remains of the dilapidated shop. For a moment, an expensive moment she couldn't afford, Liz's mind stumbled, her reverie broken, her mind desperately trying to assimilate and deconstruct the memory and the reality. The greys surrounding her lit up. Reds and yellows. A sharp refracting shower of pointed rain. The blinding white of a GasCan, the Guards close combat attack entry of choice. A small metal cylinder fired by a hip-holstered wide bore gun that could power the canister through doors. Or plate glass windows for that matter. The shattered glass fell around her stunned body, scattering over her, tearing small shreds in her black clothing. Liz knew no other way than to fight, but for the first time she could see no way out. Liz tried to calm her rapid heart. She began to pick some of the shards of glass from her thigh, being careful not to cut her skin. The Guards heat sensitive scanners would pick her up for certain then, and frankly she was in enough shit as it was. There is was though. A glinting shard of pain that she had barely noticed protruding proudly from the side of her thigh. Deep red blood slowly, thickly, lazily collecting at its base. 'Never get cut'. That was the golden rule. Bleed and they've got you. The Guards kit was so sensitive that they could track you like hungry wolves. Sure, up close and one-on-one Liz could take them down every time, but wave upon wave of them? Each one taking a little more energy, a cut here and a slice there. She'd be worn down and overpowered eventually. Liz rapidly calculated her options. Go down fighting. Attempt escape. Take her own life. None of these were options she liked. A survivor does what she needs, and a survivor is what she was. She ran the odds once more in her head. Certain death if she tried to make break for it or tried to fight them. She could the different voices she could hear relaying orders...5. Maybe 6. Not impossible. Fighting them all was given Plan B status. Surrender wasn't a guarantee of anything other than giving the cruel, merciless and utterly unscrupulous Guards. Hide. That's the only viable option of getting through this thought Liz. Her only issue was the coagulating blood around the shard deep in her thigh. 'Sit tight and see it out' won't quite cut it now she thought grimly. Firmly grabbing the sleeve of her top Liz bit close to the seam and pulled hard, hoping the tearing sound wouldn't ricochet around the shop too much. Just as she pulled hard on the resisting fabric a sizeable explosion a block away intruded on the stillness, screened the tearing sound of the double stitches finally yielding. Offering a silent thanks to the clumsy bastard Guards blowing the shit out of buildings Liz fashioned a crude but effective bandage and pulled the shard of glass out of her leg, covering the wound immediately. Cleaning the glass on the inside of a fold of the fabric, Liz thoroughly checked herself for any more intruding shards. All clear. No blood. No cuts. No traces. The Guards were somewhere in the building, seemingly not close because the crackle of their radios and clumsy crunching of their boots was muffled by the dull distance. Close enough to prevent her moving too far however and so Liz cast around to see if there was anywhere superior to her current position. It was thin pickings for sure. Where she was covered her back (big tick) but gave her very little cover to her left, and with no bolt hole that was too exposed for her liking (big cross). There was a low cupboard to her right, and hiding in there might get her out of view entirely (big tick) but if they open it then there was definitely no plan B (big cross). Finally she could risk a three foot dash (big cross) to a pillar and side unit that offered good lines of sight and all round cover (big tick). Bollocks.'Never straight forward is it' she thought grimly. She felt exposed and vulnerable, her eyes looking yearningly at the comparative safety and resolved to take the risk of the dash. A series of loud explosions boomed out of the darkness as the Guard took punitive revenge on the rebels. Seizing the opportunity Liz coiled and sprung from her hiding place and half sprinted half slid the short but dangerous distance to behind the large pillar and unit. Liz pushed her crouched body hard into the grimy once-white pillar, trying to melt into it, her black clothes grey with the dust of the place, almost meeting the pillar halfway colour-wise. She held her breath, listening for any changes in the Guards pattern of sweeping and searching. Nothing, just the rhythmic plodding of their boots, occasional crackling of radios and staccato gunfire in the distance. Listening, crouching, silently breathing, Liz didn't allow herself any congratulations or relaxation. This was no time for feeling safe, that could come later wrapped in the soft arms of her beautiful lover. For now she needed to stay sharp, focussed, ready. She listened as the footsteps passed over head, and then began to retreat. She listens intently, heard the clumsy guards crunching over the broken glass, the rubble of parts of the building. They lumbered slowly out of the building, ignorant of Liz's shrunken form or the smile beginning to form on her lips. Liz waited in the darkness until she was sure that they had gone and unfurled herself from her hiding place, carefully stretching her muscles before heading to the way she came in, silently stepping over the ruins. Her eyes stung as she stepped out into the acrid night, thick with smoke and dust. In her pause to blink and reorientate herself Liz's defences were down, and that's all the Guard needed. The black sack was over her head and secured before Liz could react. In the darkness the advantage was all his, and before Liz could free her knife her wrists were crudely zip tied together behind her back. She had gone from relief and freedom to terrifying captivity within a blink of an eye. Liz cursed her stupidity for using the same entry point twice, for not being quicker to react. A large firm hand shoved her in the back and she stumbled forward as the Guard growled at her "Oh, the boys are going to like you". Liz was shoved onwards, her mind racing for opportunities to escape, for weaknesses in the biting plastic strips around her wrists. There were none. Not yet. Liz tried to calm her mind and heart, there would be an opportunity at some point and she would need to be ready to seize it. With a final firm shove Liz found herself up against the metal of a high sided vehicle, the immovable coldness of it radiating through the fabric of her hood. She heard the Guard radioing, saying he had contained a rebel and that they should return to base. Communication over she heard the rustle and unzipping of other kit being being prepared. Maybe now, whilst it still just the two of them, was her best chance. She felt his rough hands on her wrist and hoped that he might be about to make a big mistake. No such luck though as she felt the cold metal of a MagLok attached and firmly secured, the low hum of the magnetic bracelet filling her ears. He worked quickly, attaching the other one before cutting the cable tie. Her wrists flung forward, compelled by the strong magnetic force to attach themselves to the side of the MDU. They slammed into the side. Spread wide at shoulder height. Any moment of opportunity was long long gone. Liz cringed in the darkness, she knew how vulnerable and defenceless she was now, how cruel and lecherous the Guard were. And in the distance she could hear the tread of boots as his colleagues returned to see their prize. "My, my, my. That's a tight ass right there" Liz blushed, her body contracting in response, repulsed by the voice. It had the unfortunate effect of tightening her toned ass, much to their approval. Metal clips were attached to her legs, her ankles clamped to the low skirt of the vehicle, spread wide. "That's it, tighten up for me bitch" the voice leered. A hand reached out and slapped her tensed buttocks, the pain fleeting but sharp enough to force a gasp from Liz. The hand stayed on her for a moment before she felt the sharpness of knife against her waistband. Her mind inevitably ran to that first night with Cee, the way his would-be assassin had been treated, stripped, fucked and used over and over. Liz saw no way out and steeled herself, vowing revenge on each one of the creeps. The tight fabric of her clothes offered precious little resistance to the blade, and her body prickled in the new found cold. Her clothes were shredded and torn away from her body, many rough hands pulling them away from her until she stood naked, attached to the side of the armoured vehicle, fearful of what would inevitably follow. "Not here" a new voice commanded "get her in the back" Two metal rods were produced, one clipped to the cuffs on her wrists, one to her ankles. She was utterly immobile, vulnerable and defenceless. She was unclipped from the vehicle and, with a Guard on each limb, was carried into the back of the MDU. Liz, head still hooded, felt the swing of her body as she was secured to chains hanging from the roof. Suspended now, the Guards eyes feasted on her lithe, defenceless body. She felt their animalistic gazes boring into her. Could feel the atmosphere crackle with lust and desire. A rough hand ran over her chest, her nipples were hard with the cold and fear, and the fingers firmly manipulated them, and Liz, despite everything felt a spark of pleasure. A second hand, a different person's hand, ran over her thigh slowly. She could do nothing, a suspended play thing for them. She realised she didn't even know how many of them there were, and the thought terrified her. With her nipples being worked the hand on her thigh was joined by a third on the other leg, working their way up to her defenceless pussy. This was it, she thought. The van rocked, the movement aggressive and shocking, the atmosphere changing immediately. "What the fuck is going on here?" The question was snarled, no need to shout as the voice rang with authority. The hands stopped. The one of her breast gripped tightly, as if taking one last memory before being reluctantly removed. The suspension bounced as the men left, disappointed that they wouldn't being fucking the incredibly attractive woman, and went to find drink and cheap women to take their frustrations out on. Eventually the hand clasping her breast finally let go. "You know what happened last time, after you lot had finished with her she was no good, even for The Factory. This one will fetch an excellent price, and we all have mouths to feed. Don't we?" "Yes sir" the breast-grabber replied begrudgingly. He left too, leaving Liz still suspended and naked with her saviour. He was still there, watching her, soaking up the undeniably incredible sight. He licked his lips, her pussy was incredibly tempting, plump and glistening a little. He shook his head. No, this one needed to make it back safe and whole. She could easily fetch a thousand credits, maybe more if her prep was good and the right buyer was there. God knows he needed the money, more than he needed to fuck. Didn't mean he couldn't feast his eyes on her panting, defenceless body for a moment more. Finally he pressed a button and lowered Liz down to the filthy floor of the vehicle. Liz arced her back away from the cold metal floor, and her writhing forced a wave of lust through her final captor. He stepped away and out of the MDU rapidly, knowing staying there a second longer would result in his feeding his hard cock into the incredibly attractive prisoner. He swung the armoured doors shut and shook his head clear. Liz was left in the darkness. The loud grinding of gears and jerky motion both soother her as they were on the move and away from those creeps, and terrified her as her mind wandered to where they were headed. In the darkness, cold and naked, her arms and legs prone, she clenched her jaw and tried to steady herself. The vehicle rocked and swayed more gently as they hit the highway, and Liz took stock of her situation further, testing each of her muscles, satisfying herself that, when the opportunity came she could spring an escape. All she needed was the opportunity.

__ _Just a little story about a man who is happy living his best life. This definitely works better if you're familiar with my Pueblo stories._ "Look at this, the boss is cooking!" I laughed. "No bosses here, Katy. Everybody's pulling the same weight." Pushing a third of the chicken to the left side of the flat-top, I bopped my way through "You Enjoy Myself" playing on the sound system. Grabbing the metal shaker of Habanero Harry Seasoning, I sprinkled some out on the portioned poultry. The other two-thirds would be plain. You never knew with kids. Some couldn't take it, others loved the heat. Katy slapped down a five-pounder of ground beef. "Where's this going?" "It's Taco Tuesday on 4/20. We're gonna get swamped. Proper preparation... Something something something. Wait, I got it. Proper preparation prepares proper performance. Or something like that. I'm doing the drop-offs today and Max is coming in early." She looked surprised. I didn't usually do the drop-offs and we only had two deliveries on the books. "Yeah? Something special going on?" My last stop of the day. "Sure is. It's a secret. You'll find out tomorrow." Katy grinned. "Okay, boss." "No bosses here. I'm just Mooky. Listen, Ilse's picking up a big order for Adam and the wrestling team. Throw them some extra protein, okay? And they like them seriously hot." I packed up some jars of salsa and put them in the bags with Jerry's face. People looked at me weird when I had a pro photographer take pictures of Jerry. He wasn't just a dog, though, he was our representative. People loved Jerry and we used that photo for our logo and on our bags and shirts and everything. I've got two things going for me. I know my limitations, I make damn good tacos and I have a way with the herb. So, I hire people to walk me through the stuff I'm not so good at. The marketing guy thought people would dig Jerry and liked the idea, so we went with it. Mookie's House of Taco's didn't make that much money, but I had plenty from the weed farms we started after I moved up here, so it was all good. We gave away lots of tacos and salsa, and I like feeding people. The finance guys for the farms made us bring in kids from the agricultural schools and botanists and shit, so now I just went in to keep them honest. I didn't like all that manipulation of the plants. Just keep it true to what it is and you can't go wrong. Anyway, the regular salsa went into the bag with Jerry's face and the special salsa went into the white bag. The law office was closest, so I stopped there first. The lady at the desk stopped me. "Sir, dogs aren't allowed." "It's okay, it's just Jerry!" When I finished setting up in their breakroom I went to see Liz. She had one of her law people walking a guy out of her office. Seeing Jerry, she hustled back into her office and he rushed after her. Walking in, I plopped a bag on her desk. Liz pulled a dog biscuit from a draw and made Jerry give her his paw. I nodded towards the bag. "Two Caliente Burrito Bombs for Alyssa." Liz grinned. "Thanks, Mooky. Charge the account, okay?" "Sure." "How's your day?" "Best day ever!" "You say that every week." She laughed. "See you next Tuesday." The school was next. It was near the vet's hospital, so I could hit both pretty quick. I carried in the trays and left a small bag of tacos with the secretaries where I had to sign in. "Mooky, you can't bring a dog in to the school." "It's okay, it's just Jerry." She shook her head, smiled, leaned down and ruffled his greying fur just above the tie-dyed bandana around his neck. Everybody loved Jerry. Ethan Poplin's woodworking class finished the benches they made for the Ronald McDonald House's yard, so they were having a party. Jerry got a lot of attention from the kids when I dropped off the food, so Ethan and I talked about his band. The secretary shook her head as we were leaving. When she thought I wasn't looking she slipped Jerry a treat. "Thanks for the tacos, Mooky." "Welcome, Jill!" We pulled into the parking lot for the hospital, grabbed the food trays out of the Cambro and walked to the door. The guard looked over his desk. "Hello, Jerry. You and Mooky having a good day?" I laughed. "Best day ever, Terry." He called Dr. Gruwel who met us in the front. "Hello, Mooky! More tacos?" I didn't charge the vets and they didn't place any orders, but I was here every Tuesday. I brought Doc some sofrito tacos. I didn't know much about Sikh people, but I knew they were vegetarians. We put the food in the kitchen and I dropped off jars of the salsa with THC with the patients I knew could have it. The regular salsa had gone to the kids. Jerry was getting tired, so I got him some water and walked him slowly out to the truck. Picking him up, I put him in the front and strapped him in. The drive out to Archer Farms took a while, so he was able to rest up. Jerry wasn't as young as he used to be and although we were best buds, I thought he was lonely. Finally pulling into the long driveway of Archer Farms, I went directly to the first barn. Penelope and her son Jason were there talking to one of the guys that worked there. They grew my chickens, hogs and cows. We signed some paperwork for new contracts and they took Jerry and me on a drive out to see the animals. They were all roaming around and seemed happy. I checked my _Blues for Allah_ commemorative watch when we got back to the truck. We didn't have much time left. "C'mon, buddy. Gotta get going." There was a farmstand about a quarter-mile away. Pulling up, I got out and turned to Jerry. As he stood, his legs shook. Leaning over, I kissed the top of his head and scratched his ears. I put down the windows and left the radio on. "I'll be right back. Sit tight, Jerry." They were a family business, a dad and two kids. Ken was around fifty and some sort of pepper genius. They had all the normal stuff you'd see at a roadside stand, but their peppers were the gold standard. If the season was right you could smell them roasting hatch peppers in the rotating cage from miles around. Pulling a bag with three burritos from the truck, I walked over. "Hey, Ken. Whatcha got?" I ordered three cases of peppers, six cases of tomatoes, seven cases of onions and bought some pepper relish for myself. I found Althea in the building they used to store produce. She was going through vegetables, separating them into piles for regular people and another pile for people like me. If you're in the industry, you don't really care about small blemishes. We'd buy them cheaper and chop everything up anyway. "Where's Jerry?" She pushed her large glasses back on her nose, making her big eyes seem tremendous. "Resting up in the truck. I, uh, brought you guys some burritos. Your dad has them." She spoke to me without looking up, her long black hair tied back. She never looked at people. Althea seemed shy, but nice. "Okay. Thanks. Roasting more peppers tomorrow." "Cool. I'll call Ken and order some for the salsa. Um, okay, yeah. See ya next time." I started walking to the big open door. "Mooky?" Turning back, I waited. "There's a jazz festival next week on the river-walk. Want to go?" I smiled slowly. "Yeah. I'd like that." "You have my number?" "Yeah. Can I call tonight?" "Sure." Whistling "Touch of Grey" back to the truck, I got in, got Jerry a little water and took off smiling. The Greater Pueblo Animal Rescue was close to the farm, so we made it in time. Lillian met us at the door. "You made it!" "Wouldn't miss it!" I signed the final paperwork and they let me and Jerry in the little hall to wait. His tail began wagging before Lillian walked back in with Bob. The two dogs began sniffing and fooling around while Lillian gave me the bag with the leash, bowls and other stuff you get when you adopt a dog. Jerry looked five years younger as he barked playfully and jumped around with the younger dog. I wiped my eye after watching Jerry and Bob playing together. Lillian put her arm around my shoulder. "Mooky, you okay?" I nodded. "Best day ever." ***** _With thanks to Todd172 (revered Mooky Master) and the Alligator Alliance. I'm grateful for the support from Bob, Brad, Jerry, Vik, Racing, Timothy, MrZ, Leon, Phillip, Laurence, Adam, Ken, Mark, Nora, Cheryl, Kerry, RP, Zachary, Alex, George, Dan, and Charles._ **First times: 04 -- Love down under** _I got the idea for this short story from a lovely lady who introduced me to Haiku poetry. To my immense surprise, I found that I like it and have a minimal talent for it._ _The poem at the end is hers. Thank you, dear heart._ _She's the inspiration for the story as her poem was the starting point. Where I went with it is the product of my own devious mind with no intent to offend._ _My editor, Valphund, is a tireless man. I can never thank him enough._ ***** I sit on the couch, widower to Haiku poetry. I love that she works with her laptop on her... lap. She could be one of those who seek isolation. Instead, she says she needs to feel life around her. Once in a while, she'll look up and smile at me. My heart soars each time, even if I know very well her mind is elsewhere, in her private world of words. I don't understand it. It sounds like pure gibberish to me. So I'm a simple truck driver, but she chose me over her artsy friends. She says I inspire her, that I'm her muse. What do you know? I'm a Greek goddess. What? I looked it up. I'm no ignoramus. (I looked that one up too when a jerk in her writing group called me one. I wanted to know why I was punching his lights out.) We are good together, my girl and me. ***** We met at the park ten years ago. I love to go there in the early evening to feed the ducks. I don't get to connect with Nature much in my line of work, except to run over Her children. There I was, bag of bread crumbs in hand, feeding my quacking little friends, laughing at their antics. I try to throw the bits so they all get some, but there are bullies in birds too. Some gulls tried to crowd in, but a big male chased them away. Good for him. When I arrived, I happened to notice this woman sitting at the base of a tree, her back to the pond. 'What's that about?' I thought. 'Why come to the pond and look away. That's daft.' That's what got me curious. I'd have checked her out if she'd been a babe. I _am_ a man, after all. But she was just a plain chick, an ordinary, real life woman, not one of those who primp themselves all sexy to go sit in the park to watch the birds. She wore a simple white cotton top, you know, the ample kind that looks comfortable. Her flowing skirt was colorful, in a bright flower pattern. There was a pair of simple leather sandals beside her. From where I sat, she didn't seem to be wearing make-up, and her long curly dirty blonde hair was loose over her shoulders. Did I mention that she wore her top off them? I find that very sexy. Always have. She had a notebook on her lap. A book I would have understood, but what could she be writing about out there? The look of intense concentration on her face was a sight. Then she'd look up and smile at nothing. It was like a kind of inner beauty shone through and erased the creases, wrinkles and crow's feet of a hard life, replacing them with laugh lines. Once or twice, I saw her wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. It must be some serious writing she was doing. After I emptied my bag of treats and the birds abandoned me, I sat there for a while, watching her, trying to imagine what her life was like. It's a game I play on the long road to while away the endless miles. I came up blank on that. It seemed like a silly thing to do to her. I wanted to know who she really was. Don't get me wrong, she was a sight for sore eyes, with her slim body, smallish tits, full pouty lips, but I like my women full bodied with something to grab onto while we do the horizontal mambo, the vertical tango, hell, even the sitting samba. Still, I surprised myself by walking over on my way out of the park. "Whatcha writing about, ma'am?" I asked politely. She looked up at me. She was even smaller up close; she couldn't be more than five-four. I don't know what she saw (she never told me) as she stared for a long moment, but she gave me one of those smiles I had seen before. It touched something deep inside me. "I'm writing poetry." Her voice was so sweet, it was like honey for the ears. "I volunteer at a home for people dying of AIDS. A friend of mine is in terminal phase and I wanted to give him something to ease his mind" "Are you one of those LGBT people we hear about? You know... a lesbo?" Whatever possessed me to ask such a stupid, insensitive question? If I could, I would have kicked my own ass. To my amazement, she laughed. It was like listening to crystal tinkle. "Not at all." She said. "The proper word is lesbian, and, no, I'm not. I've only been friends with people in the LGBT community all my life. Some of them are jerks and some of them are truly beautiful people. Most fall somewhere in between, like in every other group of people." Poetry? The little I know about it was a bunch of crap, but I wanted to know more about _her_. "So you came here to find peace and quiet to work on this stuff?" I shuffled my feet. Part of me knew I was probably bothering her. Another part wanted to stay and talk to her. "I should go." I mumbled. I sounded unconvincing, even to myself. There was that smile again as she patted the ground beside her. "Why don't you join me for a while? Maybe you can help. I'm stumped." I must have looked like a fool almost throwing myself to the ground. Still, I got the feeling she was laughing _with_ me instead of _at_ me. "There, look at the sunset." She pointed at the sky. Ah! That was why she was facing that way. "Do you see the colors? Red is dominant this evening, but I'm trying to come up with a three syllable word for it." "Whatever for?" I asked. That was nuts. "If you write poetry, shouldn't it be a word that rhymes with another one?" Damn, she had a beautiful laugh. "It's not that kind of poetry. I write in Haiku." She explained patiently. "A stanza, or verse, is composed of three lines. The first one has five syllables, the second seven and the third five again." "That sounds like an awfully complicated way to describe a sunset. Red... I know ochre, like the earth, crimson, they call blood that in books, or ruby, like..." "That's it! You're a genius, Bruce." I would have remarked that my name was Mark, but she had lunged at me, and was kissing me, so I opened my mouth for a different reason. I'm usually the aggressive type when it comes to sex. Holding this small woman, kissing her, I wanted to... I don't know, but it wasn't a wild fuck. I instinctively followed her lead. To my surprise, I liked sweet and gentle well enough. She's the one who reached into my mouth with her tongue after licking my lips. Then she teased my tongue into her own mouth. We played like that for the longest time. She'd take a nip at my lips, then suck my tongue like it was my cock. It was sexy as hell. And I was just holding her in my arms. Okay, I was pulling her close so I could feel her tits on me, but that's it. She's the one who put my hand on one. I found that I liked having it fit in my hand, with only a little extra. It was so different from big melons you can only grab onto. I experimented a bit. I squeezed a little. I didn't want to hurt her. She looked so fragile. "You can fondle my boobs better than that, can't you, Bruce?" She chuckled. "I'm not made of porcelain. There, let me show you." Cheezuz kryse! And there I was trying to go easy. The girl liked it hard. Well, hard I'd give her. I pulled her over so she straddled my legs and I could use both hands to get at her. Which I did. I reached under her top to grab her tits. She wasn't wearing a bra. I guess she didn't need one. I fondled her for all she was worth, pinching her nips. She liked it when I pulled them hard and twisted. She couldn't talk much because our mouths were busy together, but she showed she enjoyed it by grinding on my hard cock. She was getting herself off on me... And us in the middle of a public park. It's a good thing we were the only ones there, I hoped, but I didn't give much of a damn by then. She got even wilder when I put my hands on her legs, under the skirt which had ridden up. I grabbed her ass to pull her even closer, if that was possible, against me. She had one of those strings kinda thing. I was holding her naked ass in my hands, wishing I could take her proper. I was close myself when she arched her back and shook all over. Kryse she was loud. Surely the coppers would show up to take us in for indecent behavior, or something. She collapsed on me, all sweaty and out of breath. "Thanks, Bruce, I needed that." She panted. "Now, let's see about you." She reached between us and undid my jeans. She got up a bit and told me to lift my arse off the grass. When I did, she pulled my pants down, my BVDs too. She actually cooed when she saw little Joey standing tall and proud. She grabbed it for a couple of squeezes and gentle tugs, then she scooted down my legs so she could lean down and kiss it. The things that woman could do with her mouth and tongue, I tell you. At one point, she angled it right and took it down her throat. I shit you not. I'd only seen it done in porn videos. She played with my balls all along. She even licked them and took them in her mouth. Talk about a hot chick. She made it last too. Every once in a while, when she felt my cock throbbing more urgently, I guess, she pulled away and squeezed at the base with two fingers. I bet she wished I was wearing a cock ring. She reached under me, but couldn't get far, what with me sitting. I wondered about that. I'd heard about that ass sex thing, but wasn't it a woman schtick? Hell, if she wanted to put a finger up my butt, I'd sure give it a try. After taking me so close, so often, my balls were starting to hurt, so I begged her to let me come. She gave me that loving smile again, but there was a bit of the wicked in it too. Still holding little Joey tight, she lifted her skirt and came forward. She pulled the front up to push her panties aside. I got a brief look at her shaved pussy with a small patch of hair above it before she took me in. Cheezuz H Kryse, she was tight! I soon found out how and why. She used her cunt muscles to stroke me. It was even better than her mouth. With her skirt spread around her legs and over me, she looked like as if she were only kneeling on me. I knew better. She was fucking me and fucking me good. I put both hands under her top and made her feel good too, just like she'd shown me earlier. She lunged at me again. (She's still a lunger, all that time later.) She kissed me hard and deep. No more finesse. This was straight, up and down, good old fashioned fucking. Soon, she was bucking all over the place, riding me like a wild bronco. I had to hold on to her ass to keep her sheathed. I did my fair share of humping, let me tell you. I don't know how long it lasted. It felt like forever, it was so good, but I know it must have been only a couple of minutes. The moment she felt my jizz well up little Joey and into her cunt, she came again. I grabbed her neck, this time, so she could scream in my mouth instead of announcing her come to the whole neighborhood. And she didn't stop there. She continued her mad ride on my dick. Somehow, I stayed hard. I guess she didn't give me time to go soft. We were laughing ourselves crazy by the time we both got off again. This time, I joined her and roared as loud as I could. As we lay on the ground, catching our breath and simply enjoying holding each other, I got a weird thought. "What was it that set you off? You said I was a genius, then you jumped me. I'm not complaining, mind you. Just curious." "When you said 'ruby', it made me think of 'rubicond'. It's the French way to say 'rubicund'. It's perfect, you see. It's the word used to describe a red sky. It's also used when someone is red in the face. And it has three syllables. You _are_ a genius, Bruce." "Are you going to jump me again, baby? 'Cause, twice in a row is pretty much my limit. By the way, my name is..." "Mark. I know. Mine is Jamie." "Do I know you?" "No, but I know you. I've seen you around for a while. One of my friends told me about you and it got me curious." "In a good way, I hope." "Oh yes! She said you were a good and considerate lover, for a wanker. She said you're a good bloke too. She would have made a grab at you, but I'm sure her husband wouldn't have appreciated it." "Who's that? I don't do married women." "She never told you she was. She was a bit sloshed at the bar one night and she liked the way you looked. You two had fun in a stall in the loo. She only saw you again twice after that, and she said you were as good sober in a bed as soused sitting on the crapper." "So you wanted to try me." "No, in fact. Only, I kept seeing you around, so I asked about you. The more I learned, the more I wanted to know. I've been putting myself in your way for weeks now. This was my last try before I showed up at your door and ripped the clothes off your back." "You're a wild one, aren't you?" "Not at all, that's just it, but you got me all hot and bothered when you wouldn't even notice me, let alone fuck me." "And now that I have?" I guess I couldn't keep the disappointment that I was only a curiosity fuck to her out of my voice because she pulled me to her and kissed me straight. "Now that I have you, I keep you, Bruce." ***** I can see that my little poet is stuck. I snicker under my breath. If I play my cards right, I might just get to be her muse tonight. I walk behind her and kiss the top of her head as I massage her tense shoulders. Out of curiosity, I look at what's on her screen. _Bamboo waterfall Peaceful sounds on stones it flows Closed eyes, restful sleep_ _Ringing of brass gong Early morning wakeup call Meditation now_ _Walking on the path Pick a gum leaf crush and smell Hold it in my hand_ _Warm sun on my face Sitting quietly on log Birds songs serenade_ I somehow manage to keep from laughing out loud. Over the years, I've seen worse. I remember her twenty verse poem on a rock, a round, polished stone. She has the craziest ideas sometimes. "Did you have anything particular in mind, honey?" I recognize the playful tone. I feel like pumping my fist in the air. "I was just wondering if there was anything I could do to spark your inspiration. That's what a muse does, isn't it?" "Come around here, you horny dog. Your bitch is in heat too." I just love being a Greek goddess.

I thrust into my wife and with a deep low moan shot several long spurts of my sticky come deep inside her pussy. I felt her vaginal muscles spasm around my hard cock almost pulling the sperm out from me, depositing it deep inside her juicy wet hairy pussy. "Go on then." Angie said. "You know what you want to do now." I pulled my now limp cock out from her pussy and gently moved down her body to nibble on her hard engorged nipples. "Keep going downwards cum eater," Angie said to me in a playful tone. I moved my mouth away from her hard little nipple and brushed my tongue downwards over her belly heading towards her moist pussy. As I brushed my tongue over her smooth belly I left a trail of my wet saliva as I licked past her belly button. I continued my progress down the bed until my body was situated between her wide open legs, and my face was level with her hairy pussy. I breathed in deeply and savored the heady smell of sweat, love juice and my fresh thick sperm. "Lick me out then darling, get your tongue inside me and lick up all of your sticky come." I was firmly told. I stared at Angie's pussy which was gaping wide open from the fucking I had just given her. Her love lips were swollen and puffy and stretched apart revealing the wet pinkness of her juicy hole within. Her bushy pubic hair was matted with wetness and leaking love juices. As Angie opened her legs even wider a trickle of my white sperm appeared at the entrance to her pussy. "Lick it all up cum sucker, before it leaks out and makes a mess all over our bed." Angie said assertively to me. As usual I did exactly as I was told. I moved forward and poked my tongue out to lick Angie's slippery wet gash. As my tongue made contact with the wet folds of her sensitive flesh Angie let out a low moan. As I probed inside her pussy with my tongue Angie squeezed her tight pussy muscles and forced a large globule of my sticky sperm into my waiting mouth. I eagerly gulped the mixture of our juices down feeling the hot spermy mixture coating my tongue and the back of my throat. "Eat it all cumslut," Angie said and she moaned as my tongue brushed the sensitive area round her clit. "Suck it all out of me and then make me come my lovely cum eater." I licked her pussy alternating between circling my tongue round the sensitive little bud of her clit and licking deep inside her sticky hole. Each lick in her juicy hole brought more of the salty, slightly bitter spermy mixture into my mouth, which I then eagerly swallowed. As I licked her pussy I looked up and watched as Angie pinched her own nipples and rolled the engorged teats between her thumb and finger. I circled her clit with my tongue with increasing pressure and as she moaned in appreciation I brought her off with my gentle nibbles on her clit. "God, oh, yes." Angie uttered as her orgasm ripped through her, and her body shuddered. I carried on licking her wet pussy as she calmed down. When she had finished I moved up the bed and we embraced, holding each others spent bodies until we contentedly fell asleep. Angie and I have been married for fourteen years now. We are both in our mid thirties and look after ourselves by exercising and carefully watching what we eat. Angie still retains her figure and is the same size 10, as the day that we were married. We enjoy a healthy sex life and make love on a regular basis. I can't remember exactly how it first happened, but for most of our married life I have been cleaning up Angie's pussy after we have made love. I really enjoy the taste and texture of my own sperm and Angie enjoys being a bit dominant by commanding me to lick her out after we have fucked. I love tasting our combined juices. Sometimes Angie will just lie back and open her legs for me to lick out her juicy pussy. Other times she may become a little more dominant and straddle my head, pushing her pussy roughly down on to my face and mouth. As I have to clean the sperm out of Angie after we have made love it means that she always gets another orgasm on my tongue. A few weeks ago we hade just made love. As usual I had eaten my sperm out of her wet pussy and we were cuddling each other before we went to sleep. "Have you ever tasted anyone else's sperm?" Angie asked. "No," I replied, "I've always been happy with just eating my own out from your pussy after we have made love." "Have you ever wondered what other sperm would taste and feel like in your mouth?" "To be honest I've not really thought about it," I replied. "Why do you ask?" "Well I'm in no way suggesting that you are queer or anything, but I just wondered if you had fantasized about having someone else's sperm to taste, as you enjoy eating your own so much." I thought about what Angie was saying for a moment "I expect all sperm tastes more or less the same." I said. "I don't know if it does," Angie said. "I bet it all tastes slightly different." "Maybe it does, but I've never really thought about it deeply." I said. "How would you feel about eating another man's fresh sperm from my pussy?" "That would mean some one else fucking you." I said. "Yes it would wouldn't it," Angie replied. "But your reward would be that I would let you watch, and then lick the sperm out from my used pussy afterwards." "You mean that you want some one to fuck you, and then fill your pussy up with sperm for me to lick out?" "I could get quite turned on and horny thinking about it, but only if you agreed, were there watching and I could make the cream pie especially for you to eat from me straight afterwards." Angie said. I was a little taken at what Angie had suggested. In all our married life we had never been unfaithful to each other. We had never invited anyone else to join us in our sex life, and Angie even talking openly about it seemed very strange. I suppose I was not as shocked as I really should have been, as deep down I had always known that Angie had longings to be a bit kinkier. I told Angie that if it really was something that she wanted to try and if it really turned her on I would think about it. For the next few days Angie did not mention making a cream pie for me again. I did nothing but turn over in my mind what Angie was suggesting. If I licked out another man's sperm from her pussy did it make me a queer? How would I feel watching Angie taking another cock in her pussy, which up until now had only enjoyed mine? Why did my lovely wife want to experience another cock? Wasn't I good enough for her? How would it affect out relationship? I thought deeply about the matter and the more I thought about it the more aroused and horny I became. I started to imagine looking at Angie's pussy dripping full of someone else's sperm and then tasting the sticky mixture. The image of another cock pounding into her was strangely arousing. The more I thought about it the more I realized that I wanted it to happen, and would enjoy watching her get pleasure form another cock. As we lay in bed together a few nights later I told Angie that I had thought about her suggestion, and that if she still wanted to take another man's cock and make a cream pie for me then we could do it. "I can make love to another man while you watch, then get him to fill my pussy up with sperm for you to eat?" Angie asked. "Yes." I nervously said. "I have been thinking about it, and it makes me hard thinking about watching you, then licking out a sticky load from your pussy that isn't mine." "Great, I was really hoping that you would agree," said Angie enthusiastically. "I'm not sure how I will actually feel watching you fuck some one else, but even thinking about that strangely excites me." I told Angie. "It wouldn't mean anything to me," Angie said. "There would be no emotions involved; it would only be pure sex, without love. I want to make you a cream pie and watch you suck it out from me afterwards. It would give me great pleasure to have you watch me with another man, and then allow me to spread my legs for you to eat out the messy cream pie." Now that we had decided that we both wanted to actually do this we had the problem of how to put our plan into action. It would be impossible to involve any of our friends, or totally out of the question to invite anyone to join us that we knew from work. As we talked we decided that we would have to look on the Internet, and join some groups where we could look for a like minded contact in our area. Over the next few days Angie and I thought about a message we could post on the Internet on a swapping contact board that we had found by doing a search for 'cream pie lovers'. Eventually we decided to post up the following: 'A well presented, non smoking, slim couple in their mid thirties are seeking a male aged between 30 and 50 to join them for some first time no strings attached fun. She is longing to be fucked while he watches. The object is to fill her up with sperm for him to clean and lick up afterwards. Persons interested must be slim, clean and experienced. Contact to be made by email and photographs essential'. We had a few replies to our posting but none of them were really suitable. The persons who did bother to reply were either old, fat, ugly, or were not prepared to be watched. We had nearly given up hope when we had an email from a guy called John. At 48 he was a little older than us but he did live in our local area. We had several email conversations with him over a period of days before we exchanged photographs. He certainly fitted the bill as he was single, slim and was quite good looking. He said that he was willing to participate in exactly the scenario that we wanted. We exchanged some more emails and eventually agreed for John to come round to our house in a week's time. Angie even asked him not to make love to anyone, or masturbate until his visit, so that he had a massive load of sperm to deposit inside her for me to eat. On the day that we had arranged for john to visit we were both very excited. We had talked of nothing else all week. Angie had told me that she was very curious what it would feel like to have another cock inside her, as she had only had one other lover before she met and married me. Thus she had very little sexual experience with other people. I had spent the week fantasizing about watching Angie make love with John, then tasting the juicy cream pie afterwards. As the evening drew nearer Angie had a relaxing bath in preparation for Johns visit. As she soaked in the bath I watched and talked to her as she soaped and cleaned her voluptuous body. Angie even carefully shaved her pubic region. She shaved the lower area around her love lips completely smooth, but left a small tuft of hair above her slit. Angie occasionally did this but most of the time she left her pussy naturally hairy. She told me that John said in his last email that he preferred a bit of bare flesh, and that it would be sexier for me to lick up the mess afterwards if she was smooth shaven. After her bath Angie dressed in a new flimsy matching silk bra and panty set with a little black dress and low cut blouse. I thought that she looked absolutely fantastic...Good enough to eat! As arranged in our last email at 8.00 pm our doorbell rang and we both answered it. John had arrived and we invited him into our living room. We were all a little tense to start with and the atmosphere was a little awkward. However after we all had a glass of wine we started to relax with each other. John was great company and very witty. I could tell by the way that Angie was eying him up that she was not disappointed, as he looked even better in the flesh than in the photographs that he had emailed us. We talked for some time getting more comfortable with each other as we relaxed. Eventually it was the more experienced John who said "we all know why I am here, so why don't we stop the small talk and go to the bedroom and get more comfortable with each other." Angie eagerly replied "that's great, let's go then." As she got up quickly from her chair she turned to me and said "come on then cream pie eater." We all got up from our chairs in the living room and made our way to our marital bedroom upstairs. When we were in the bedroom I sat down as we had previously arranged on our dressing chair next to the bed and made myself comfortable. Here I would get a good close view of Angie and John making love. Angie and john stood nervously at the end of our bed while I watched before Angie started proceedings by flinging her arms around John's neck and passionately started kissing him. I watched as their lips parted and their tongues entwined in their mouths. John was running his hands over Angie's ass, and was pulling her closer to him grinding his pubic region into hers. I felt quite strange watching my wife kissing another man in front of me with my blessing. It was a mixture of jealousy, curiosity and mounting excitement. Angie broke away from the kiss and slowly moved down to kneel on the floor in front of John. I watched as she seductively unbuckled his trousers and then let hem slip to the floor rapidly followed by his underpants. This then allowed his semi erect cock to spring free. I looked at johns hardening cock and noticed that he was probably at least an inch longer than me, also he was really thick. Angie looked directly at me and silently mouthed the words "I love you" before she leaned forward to push his foreskin back with her lips, then she took the tip of Johns cock right into her mouth. Angie had to open really wide to take just the head of Johns really thick cock deep into her mouth. I watched as she cupped his heavy balls with one of her hands and slowly slid the length of his cock further into her open willing mouth. Angie's other hand grasped the base of Johns cock as she sucked it deeper into her. I noticed that her hand only went three quarters of the way round his thick shaft. Angie slowly bobbed her head up and down on Johns cock, gently sliding him in and out of her wet mouth. John was clearly enjoying the attentions of Angie's mouth and tongue as he told her "that feels great, suck my cock baby." Angie skillfully sucked Johns cock for a few minutes while I watched her every move. Her attention had made it harden fully and she had to really stretch her mouth to get the first few inches of it all the way in. Watching her sucking John had also made my cock hard and I rubbed myself gently through my trousers. John pulled Angie up from her kneeling position in front of him, and once again the pair sensuously kissed each other. John broke off from the kiss and started to unbutton his loose fitting flannel shirt. As he did so he said to Angie "undress for me baby." I watched as Angie slipped out of her dress and unbuttoned her blouse before casually slipping it from her shoulders. She then released the clip of her bra and let her breasts swing free. I noticed that her nipples were already hard. Angie stood in front of John, and as we both watched slowly slipped her flimsy knickers down, firstly revealing the bush of hair above her slit, then she peeled them all the way down to reveal her smooth lips below. By the look on her face she was clearly enjoying revealing her total nakedness to us. "Nice pussy," was all that John appreciatively said as he eyed her now naked smooth pussy. He then assertively guided Angie back to our large double bed. John forced Angie back on the bed and roughly pushed her thighs apart. I saw her pussy gape wide open and knew that she was soaking wet. I could even smell her musky aroma hanging on the air. Looking at, and sucking on Johns thick cock had clearly aroused her. I watched as John leaned forward and firmly thrust his tongue between the smooth folds of Angie's hairless pussy. As his tongue made contact with her dripping hole Angie let out a long moan from deep within her throat. John greedily licked Angie's pussy tasting her flowing juices. I watched as he easily pushed two of his fingers deep inside Angie and slowly but firmly thrust them in and out as he continued to nibble on her clit. I listened to the rude slurping sounds he made as he licked up and down her wet juicy slit. Angie had her eyes closed and her head back on the pillow as she moaned. "Oh yes, push your fingers deeper in me." She was clearly enjoying the oral attention and fingering she was receiving. As John continued licking up and down her smooth crack, Angie's thighs tried to clamp together, and as John nibbled on her clit she exclaimed "Oh yes, yes" as an orgasm rippled through her body. John raised himself up from between Angie's thighs and leaned over to kiss her. His mouth and chin were covered with her slippery love juices, and were shiny and wet. I watched, surprised, as Angie willingly opened her lips and tasted herself on his long kiss. John then turned and offered his sticky fingers to me. I took them into my mouth and licked the juices off, tasting my wife's sweet wet arousal. John then told Angie to move and kneel on the bed. He spread her legs apart further, and I could see her smooth pussy gaping open beneath the brown star of her puckered little ass hole. After the licking and fingering her love lips were wet and shiny covered with her juices and were hanging down from her pussy. I moved closer to watch as John stood and positioned himself behind Angie. John rubbed his thick erect cock between Angie's long wet pussy lips covering the purple head in her slippery juices. He then pushed forward sliding it deep inside her pussy in one quick movement. "Oh yes, fill me up." Angie said. "God it's so big, I can feel it stretching me." John moved into her and I listened as his thighs slapped and banged against her curvaceous ass with every thrust. Angie was clearly loving being filled up with a large thick cock and was moaning with every deep thrust. "Your wife's pussy is so tight and juicy." John turned to me and said. I felt really jealous when he said that but at the same time could not stop watching as he carried on thrusting his big cock deeply into my wet wife. It was really exciting to watch his cock spread my wife's pussy lips apart and completely fill her up. After a while of taking Angie from the rear John pulled out. His hard cock was very wet and shiny as it was coated with Angie's slimy juices. Her ass was still high in the air and I could see her pussy hole gaping wide open where his cock had just been. Her inner thighs were shiny and coated with slick wetness. John moved round the other side of the bed with his cock standing out proudly in front of him. He forced his cock in-between her lips deep into her mouth again. He held the back of her head and rhythmically fucked her mouth. I watched with some feelings of jealously as Angie enthusiastically sucked John's hard cock free of her juices. For the first time in my life I actually wondered what it would feel like to have a large hard cock push its way into my mouth between my own lips. "Lie back on the bed for me now baby." John asked Angie. She silently did as she was told and lay on her back with her legs apart. Once again I watched closely as John approached her open thighs. He carefully lifted and placed each of Angie's long legs on his shoulders, and then in once swift movement thrust the whole of his thick length deep inside her. "Oh yes." Angie moaned as he pushed into her. "God, yes, fuck me deep." I found it very arousing to listen to my wife talking so crudely to John and almost begging to be filled up with hard cock. John pumped his length into her and I listened to the rude slurping noised her wet pussy made as she received it. John leaned forward and grabbed Angie's breasts. He pinched her hard nipples as he pounded into her. Angie was really getting into it now. She was almost chanting "yes, yes, yes, oh yes," as John's cock stretched her juicy pussy as she writhed beneath him. John's tempo increased and Angie let out a long moan. "Oh God, Oh God, Yes" she almost shouted, and as John pinched her engorged nipples her body shook and she had a large orgasm. As Angie came on his cock John carried on quickly thrusting into her with increasing tempo. Suddenly he grunted loudly and I watched his buttocks tense and rhythmically contract. I realized that he was coming and was pumping his load deep inside Angie. "Yes fill me up, come deep inside me" Angie said. "Fill me up for my husband," she moaned. "God I can feel you spurting in me." As I watched John seemed to come for ages and I realized as his buttocks contracted that he must have erupted at least seven spurts of sticky come inside her. When he had finished John pulled out of Angie and faced me. His body was covered in a thin film of sweat form his exertions and his thick cock was shiny and wet. "There you are come sucker, she's all yours now." John moved out of the way and started to dress. We had agreed he would see himself out from our house while we carried on, as he did not really want to watch me eat up his sperm from Angie's used pussy. As we had agreed he had performed his part of the bargain. I looked at Angie lying on the bed. Her hair was tousled and her cheeks were glowing red. Her breasts seemed larger and her nipples were huge. Her legs were parted and her pussy was gaping wide open. Her smooth love lips were swollen and puffy. There was love juice coating her pale soft inner thighs which had run out while John was fucking her. Her pussy area was a mess, and I could see the white sticky goo that John had deposited start to drip out from her. Angie said in almost a whisper "take your clothes off lover and come to me. Come and get your fresh cream pie." Suddenly I realized that I was still fully clothed. I had been so engrossed in watching John pleasure Angie that I had not even bothered to get undressed myself. I quickly slipped my clothes off to reveal my naked body and erect cock without actually taking my eyes off Angie. "Come and eat me, clean up the hot sticky mess my lover has made, my little come slut." Angie said. I approached Angie on the bed and she opened her legs wider for me. She looked so wanton and sexy. "Taste me come eater." Angie said. Just for a moment I had second thoughts and felt as if I wanted to back out from eating another mans slimy come. Angie must have sensed my reluctance. "This is what you wanted wasn't it dear?" she said. "Come and taste the juicy cream pie I've made especially for you." As she said that I moved in closer to her pussy. I took in a deep breath savoring her musky aroma and in a swift movement placed my mouth completely over her smooth hairless pussy lips. As I did this Angie used her strong internal muscles deep inside her pussy to force out a huge wad of sperm straight into my open waiting mouth. I eagerly swallowed the mixture down; the sticky goo coated the inside of my mouth and the back of my throat. "How does it taste?" Angie asked. "Hot, sticky and yummy," I replied in between swallows. The mixture of Angie's love juices and John's sperm tasted very different to my own. John's sperm seemed to be a different texture to mine; it was not as thick and tasted strangely metallic. There was also much more of it than I was used to. I sucked on Angie's pussy and licked her slit. As I did so copious amounts of sperm just seemed to dribble out from her and I swallowed it down, savoring and enjoying the taste. "Get it all out from inside me," Angie urged me. "I felt him spurt loads inside me when he came, suck it all out from me." As Angie pulled her thighs up and spread her legs further she urged me to eat all of her lover's sperm up. I lapped at her open love hole probing it deeply with my tongue to find the globules of sperm deep inside her. As I scooped them up with my tongue I swallowed the mixture down enjoying the sensation as the sticky goo slipped over my tongue and down my throat. It took a few minutes of probing Angie's pussy with my tongue but eventually I had cleaned her pussy up of all remains of her lover's sperm. I carried on licking her while she played with her hard little nipples. As she kneaded her breasts and rolled the nipples between her fingers I concentrated on licking her clit. It did not take long before once again Angie's body shuddered as an orgasm rippled through her. Angie asked if it was good. I said that I had enjoyed watching her being fucked but that it was also very strange and that times I had felt jealous. I did not tell her that I was also jealous of watching her suck John's thick cock, and that I had had feelings of wanting to do that as well. Angie told me that she had enjoyed the fucking John had given her especially as his cock was a little bigger than mine. "I could really feel him stretching my pussy," she said, "then when he finally came he seemed to spurt for ages and I could actually feel it hot and wet deep inside my womb." I told Angie that once I had started I had really enjoyed licking up and tasting John's sperm. She had been right when she had suggested that not all sperm tastes exactly the same. "Come here lover," Angie said. "You haven't come yet and I have, let me make love to you." "Lie down on the bed," she whispered in my ear. I did as Angie asked and she straddled my body. My cock was still hard and sticking up into the air as Angie slowly and gently lowered her body down on it. Her hot, very wet pussy engulfed my cock. It slipped easily inside her as her pussy was still stretched from accommodating John's larger cock. She was also still very wet and juicy inside. Angie firmly rode me, grinding her pussy down on my cock. "You're a lovely come eater" she said, "I am very proud of you for eating up all of John's hot sticky sperm." Angie bounced up and down on my cock making her tits sway. I reached up to cup them and gently rolled the hard nipples between my thumb and finger. "Ummm, that feels nice," Angie said. I moved my hips upwards to meet her rocking motion and started to feel the tension building in my balls. "I'm going to come soon," I told Angie. "Good, come deep in me," Angie said as she increased the tempo of her rocking motion and bounced harder up and down on my cock. I groaned as she made me orgasm and spurted my come deep in her pussy, to mix with any that was left inside her from John. Angie pulled herself off from my cock and purposefully moved up the bed. She straddled my head and holding onto the headboard lowered herself down until her pussy was only inches away from my mouth. I looked up to once again see her smooth pussy with the lips gaping open exposing her wet pink hole within. "Come and get it come slut," she said as she squeezed out my white fresh sticky goo from her pussy. I opened my mouth and let the sticky mixture slowly drip in to it. As I swallowed the mess Angie sat down on my face and said "please lick my clit and make me come again." I poked out my tongue and ran it up and down her open pussy drawing out more of my salty liquid. Concentrating on her clit I circled it with my tongue and used my lips to nibble the engorged little bud. "God yes," she urged. "Don't stop doing that." Her pussy and clit were so sensitive that it did not take long for Angie to have another small orgasm. As she ground her pussy on my face she coated my lips and mouth with the final mixture of my sperm and her juices. Angie climbed off from my face and we both collapsed in a tired exhausted heap in our bed. Angie said that her pussy was a bit sore now, although she was happy that it had been well used. We both agreed that we had had a great night and that talking about whether we would see John again could wait for the morning. We embraced each other and I drifted off to sleep with the familiar aftertaste of fresh sperm cream pie in my mouth.

The next day as agreed I reached Arti Bhabi’s house & rang the door bell. Bhabi opened the door & put her arms around me and gave me a hug, as she hugged me I could feel her breasts pressing against me & could smell the perfume on her neck which instantly turned me on. She let go of me after a brief hug and we walked in the house as I closed the door. Bhabi toady was dressed in fancy salwar-suit and nice make-up. With No chunni her Boobs were protruding out & once she turned & walked her ass swayed, The warmath of her hug & her looks made my cock stood up making tent in my shorts. Once in drawing room Bhabi said "Kyon, Naveen, Kya soch rahe ho jiski vajeh se yeh ho raha hai (What are you thinking about to have this happen to you)?" pointing towards my bulge. "Bhabi seeing you it is happening like this, I now can not live without you I said. Bhabi smiled & pulling me & pressed her lips tightly against mine. We kissed passionately, Bhabi’s arms circling me and drawing me against the softness of her boobs. My chest was pressed against her full, yielding breasts, and the luscious globes flattened as she held my body tightly against hers. Pulling away Bhabi said “Main tumhare hi bare mein sauch rahi thi, (I was just thinking about you)", "Kuch piyoge (would you like something to drink) I said Doodh (Milk) from source. Saying this I took charge & pulled Bhabi close to me. My hands massaged her back and I leaned Bhabi back over the dining table and my tongue licked her neck down to her cleavage. My hands undid the hooks of her kurta & she helped me to take it off. As she was taking her Kurta off I pulled the nada (string) and pushed her salwar & panties down in one action. Bhabi drew up her legs one by one, enabling me to pull the Salwar & panties off her one leg and then the other. I stood up & unhooked her bra, pulling it to release her large boobs. Bhabi must have noticed the hunger in my eyes as I gazed on her nipples. They were only a couple of feet from my mouth now. I was about to punce on her, she ducked & entered her bedroom naked. I moved behind her to find her spread on bed. Seeing me she took her hands to her breasts and squeezed them, “Naveen would you like to drink milk now”? I wasted no time in answering and moved toward her nipples quickly & began licking, kissing and sucking on them. Continuing my sucking I raised my head & said "Bhabi, you are beautiful." I'm the luckiest man in the world." Bhabi pulled me up and her tongue leaped into my mouth, twisting and turning. My jaws opened wide, allowing her to explore. When we parted, Bhabi said “this is pre board exam (practice) for you”. “I want you to enjoy it so that you like having sex and treat women with respect”. Kissing while taking pause she continued “women need love, be gentle and respond to the woman, sex is a joint venture and not just like masturbation which you have been used to till date”. “A man who can generate erotic surges within a woman is a real man, always remember this”. Saying these beautiful words,(which till date are embedded in my mind) she gave me a long kiss & released me saying, “give me a kiss; using your tongue”. I rose back on my elbows & my lips moved to her neck as my tongue worked its way up to play over the delicate lobe of ear lobe. Bhabi’s words were echoing in my mind so I didn't rush. My lips and tongue slowly touched every inch of her neck and shoulders. Then I worked my way down, my mouth moved slowly as though each spot of her body was to be fully tasted and explored before moving on to the next. Bhabi closed her eyes & moaned while I kissed into the valley between her breasts. Bhabi opened her eyes & held me tightly there as tip of my tongue tickled her boobs inch by inch. Bhabi was now moaning loudly & I knew she was enjoying it. "You are too gooddddddd & a fast learner," Bhabi whispered, her back arching up, trying to stuff her boobs into my face. My hands joined my mouth. I sucked and squeezed, licked and rolled, nibbled and tugged & her moans were getting louder now. “Lick them and suck them,” she commanded. “Bite my nipples gently and run your teeth over them. I did as asked She moaned Aaah! That’s so good. “Try to do it just like this,” she breathed, Ï like this way.” I continued pleasuring her boobs & after some time she pulled me beside her & said “Come on, lie here, and took me in her arm and started to kiss me and with one hand she started to unbutton my shorts & pushed them down with her feet. I was only in my underwear and my shirt, she than pulled my shirt and started to kiss my chest and with other hand, started to rub my cock inside my underwear. I was mad & my mouth moved down to her nipples which were already hard and began biting and sucking them. She began moaning and yelling and rubbing my cock harder and harder. Releasing her boobs from my hand & pushing me up, Bhabi slipped down so that my fully erect cock stood up in her face. She ran her hands up the sides of my legs. She tilted her head and took one of my balls into her mouth. She rolled it around before releasing it from her mouth. Then she flicked her tongue between my balls. She licked up my shaft, tickled under the head, and went back down to the bottom. Then she grasped my cock at the base and pulled it down to her lips. It was incredible watching her mouth close and engulf my dick. Her head started bobbing back and forth. I was so aroused by all the foreplay that I came almost immediately. She held her mouth over my throbbing cock drinking in every spurt of my cum. Once finished she went to bathroom. I followed her & we washed & dried each other off. I went into the bedroom & bhabi went to kitchen. She made tea and sandwitch & we ate them quietly. After removing the plates Bhabi came back & we lay together on bed, I turned and kissed her lips softly first and then French kissed her. Our tongues met in the middle and the kiss lasted for 5 minutes. All the time my hands worked on her boobs. The nipples were hard again, She pulled my hand down to her thighs & I started to massage them. She pulled my hand & placed right over her pussy. It was wet. 'What's this?' I asked. 'Why is it getting wet, have you discharged?' 'It's precum. Same as yours. I get it when I get hot.' She smiled at me, & said 'go ahead, rub it around.' I slowly massaged her pussy & then insterted my middle finger inside her pussy. She gasped and whispered, cover it with your other hand and rub. I continued doing for a while. After a while she moved & picked up the pillow lying on side. Sliding it under her waist she said spread my pussy with your fingers & then push your two middle finger into my pussy & massage the top with your thumb. I did as instructed & started fucking motion with my fingers. Her eyes were closed & she was pinching her boobs. By her looks I made out that she was enjoying it so I increased my speed & my slipped third finger. She moaned loudly and thrust her hips forward to meet my touch. I began stroking her lightly up and down, My fingers were covered with her juices. Bhabi eyes were closed and was squeezing her nipples. I slid my left hand up and, pushing her hand aside, cupped her boob and pinched her nipple. “Ooohhh!” She groaned. As I moved my fingers in fucking motion, some time rotating, she cried & shaked her hips with every movement. I was thrilled seeing her & increased my intensity. I guided the forth finger inside with the others & became almost rough. She let out a sharp cry & gripped the bedsheet pushing her pussy towards my hand. I could see the juices seeping down as I penetrated her deeper and harder with each stroke. I wanted to please her & Bhabi was now rocking her hips violently crying ohhhhh Ahhhhh & AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Suddenly she grabbed my wrist and pulled it away. I looked up at her with confusion. Bhabi smiled & said “now time for your final test”. She was holding my wrist & moved it slowly towards my mouth. She asked me to smell it. “How does it feel”, before I could answer she thrusted my fingers in my mouth. I tasted her. It tasted better then yesterday & I enjoyed liking my fingers. Sliding back & resting on bed’s head board she pulled me near her & kissed me on lips. Then slowly she lowered my face between her legs, positioning it at her opening, which was glistening with her juices. She took my head in her hands and pulled me in slowly. My lips made contact with pussy and the taste of her juices flooded into my mouth. I touched her lightly with my tongue. "Oh, yes," she murmured. "Yes, moving it all around". "Ahhh! Oh yes. Yes, lick out my pussy. Lick up all my juices." “Move your tongue over my pussy and make it harder”. “Use your tongue like you used your fingers in my pussy”, she kept on whispering as I worked on her pussy. I moved my tongue into her heated pussy as my fingers ran over it gently. I instantly knew I was going right since her breath was coming a little faster, her hips bucked up pushing her pussy in to my face. Her juices were now flowing out continuously; the flow was getting thicker and trickling down on to the bed. My face was full of her juices. I tried to move back as her juices were troubling me in nose but she would not allow & holding my head pressed it back. I once again rammed my tongue up into the soft-rimmed flesh & began to suck her. Her head was tossing from side to side and then she screamed my name and her hips arched into. More, please. Aaaangh Oohhhh!!". She collapsed on the bed with her hips still making small jerking movements. Her pressure on my head eased & with one big moan she pulled me up. "Navven, oh Bhagwan (God), that was incredible." I moved next to her, kissed her, and she tasted herself on my lips. She wrapped her arms around me & said "Make love to me." I lay back and Bhabi moved over my cock, so that tip of my cock brushed merely with her wet pussy. “Lie still,” she ordered, “move only when I put it there.” She began to lower herself and I watched my cock slowly sink into her pussy. She started to move. I wanted her to move faster but she will not listen. I today realize Bhabi knew how to control her partner, she moved slowly, rotating her hips, squeezing and leaving me hanging on the edge. Overcome with emotion I tried to move with her but her weight made it hard for me to move. As I tried to pick up pace Bhabi whispered “Slow down,” “there’s no hurry,” “I want to enjoy you first”. She started bouncing up and down, deeper and deeper, grinding on my cock, feeling on every inch of her inner walls. We weren't much for hard banging, but more for hot passionate movements, feeling each other intimately. She wanted me to be on top. We flipped over, my dick still in her, and I took control. My hands grip her waist firmly. I worked her hole with hot male passion. "Haaa" I hear her moan with each stroke Sensations and emotions well up in my body, I started to pump hard, she met my thrusts with equal force and after few stroke I emptied my load inside her. I collapsed over her with my penis in her heavenly pussy. I feel her muscles work around my member. I feel like I am being milked for my cum. I run my hands all over her pinching her nipples & thighs. Taking controls of her breath Bhabi whispered you are a good lover and we will have wonderful times.” I kiss her back & we just lay there for a while. She got up & asked me to clean myself & leave as it is time for her maid to come in. I said “can I come tomorrow afternoon”, “No” she said. I will call you when it is right time. Kissing her for one final time I gathered my clothes & move to bathroom to get ready. More to come on my experiences with Arti Bhabi. _I am looking forward to your comments on my way of expressing my experiences._ This was my first time on a solo holiday; I joined a large 65ft charter yacht that was berthed in a marina in Plymouth, for a two week holiday sailing to France and back via the Isles of Scilly. This holiday had an unusual ending; I think. On arrival in Plymouth I met the skipper of the yacht; he looked the typical Captain Birds Eye character, complete with white beard. He introduced me to his full time crew. A Sailing Master who looked like the old man of the sea, with a heavy Cornish accent, that he was very proud off, a Mate who was of the old school of sailing and became very excitable at times and a Cook, from his round shape must have enjoyed the food he prepared. We were to refer to them as Skipper, Master, Mate and Cook, a sailing tradition, I think; maybe not. I was then introduced to my sailing companion's that had already arrived on board. I was also introduced to Jim, whom I had never met before, but was to share a small cabin with for the next two weeks. We were both about the same age and build, I was from the North he was a local from Devon. Jim showed me the cabin and where to store my gear; the cabin was small but comfortable. Given the confined space within the cabin, it was clear Jim and I were going to get to know each other, rather well, during the next two weeks. I had the top bunk, Jim the bottom bunk; no pun intended; honest. After lunch the Skipper outlined where we would be going and what we would all be doing on board during the next two weeks, he also gave us the regulatory safety briefing. There were sixteen guests, on board, all male; most knew each other as friends before this holiday. Essentially we were paired off to crew the yacht. Two on sails, two helming, two as deck hands, under the supervision of the Skipper, the Sailing Master or the Mate at any one time. Two were assigned as galley slaves under the supervision of the Cook. We would all take turns on each of these duties. We spent the afternoon getting to know how the yacht worked and where things were stowed. By late afternoon we all seemed to get the grasp of what was expected of us. We spent the evening getting to know each other over an excellent meal prepared by the Cook and his two slaves, with drinks to follow. We all seemed to get along well with each other, although this would be put to the test over the next few weeks. As we were to leave early next morning to catch the tide out the river Tamar; we all turned in early. Due to the confines of the cabin Jim and I had a challenge to get ready for bed at the same time; we kept bumping and rubbing each other as we maneuvered to get undressed. In many ways it was fun and a bit erotic too. Jim liked that me too. We were both finally striped down to short close fitting bikini type underwear. Do we stop there or go for the full display. I was starting to feel, well a bit over aroused and would show if we undressed further. I think Jim was thinking this too. As we were about to climb into our bunks we were hit with the wash from something either travelling too fast or large or both leaving the marina. We both collided and ended up face to face, bodily pressing on each other, intimately; I could feel Jim was fully aroused, as was I by this time. Also; I could see it in Jim's eyes, like me, he was enjoying the moment. Jim then ran his finger down my arm, slowly and seductively, while starting to nibble my ear lobe, I mimicked his gesture. Both our hands reach each other's underwear in unison, slipping our fingers inside exploring each other. We both then slid each other's underwear off in unison. Both being aroused by this time rubbed each other intimately; we felt a mutual response building. As we embraced each other we both decided to go to the next stage, it wasn't long before we had positioned ourselves on Jim's bunk. The close confines of the bunks bulkheads, gave us good positioning. Jim engaged with me, slowly penetrating to start with, and then he started to ungulate slowly, it was nice and comfortable. As he started to cum his rhythm increased until he unloaded. We changed position and I started to engage with Jim, after what seemed a long time, nice long time, I unloaded too. We disengaged and started to relax by spooning each other on the narrow bunk. The bunks were not that wide to share all night. Not sure what to do next. We went to our respective bunks but with our underwear on this time. Next morning we got dressed one at a time. Although I did feel Jim's wandering fingers from time to time, as he did mine; a nice start to the day. Our holiday started proper the next day, as it was a very hot summer day we were all got dressed down to swimwear, tops and trainers. Leaving the marina the Skipper took charge, before long Jim and I were on the sails as we both had done some sailing before. Took a while before we were both working together, initially we were almost literally getting tangled up with each other as we set the sails. Again as we bumped and rubbed against each other, we were both starting to enjoy the experience. Not as erotic as last night but comfortable with each other's close presence; as we set the sails and cleared away the sheets and lines. The Master was a perfectionist regarding the tiding of his sails and lines. All ship shape and Bristol fashion he kept quoting in his Cornish accent. He was one of those really likable guys, even if he was telling you for the third time to do it again. There was a lot of body contact between us throughout our watch, which we both didn't seem to mind. I liked it; Jim too. By the end of our four hour stint we had got to know each other and became comfortable working together. We went down below to the large table to have lunch; was a bit crowded. Jim was sitting next to me; our legs were touching and rubbing as we sailed. Adding to what we had already experienced. I started to think maybe tonight we might just sleep naked, I discreetly suggested this to Jim; he smiled back. After lunch, being off watch, we went topside and stripped off and enjoyed the sun together. We shared our backgrounds together; I worked in an office of a defence contractor, Jim in the Devonport Naval Dockyard. We had a lot in common; both knew of projects and people working on them in connection with our ship building and refit work. Later that evening we had a second four hour watch together, it was dark by now and we were alone. The others were having their evening meal below. Jim shared with me that he was not gay when starting college. In his second year he ran into financial trouble, looked as though he would have to give up his studies and start working full time. He didn't want to do this as he was doing very well in his engineering degree studies. He didn't know what to do, when one of the students approached him saying he knew someone who was looking for male Escorts for visiting business men. He was assured all it was, was to be with them for companionship; nothing more. He agreed and met with the person who was arranging the meets; for a chat and a once over to see if he was suitable; he was. He was then told how much he would get, which was very inviting and would get him out of his financial hole. Anything undertaken on top was up to him and he could keep half for himself. But he was not obliged to undertake anything extra. It was up to him. His first meet was at a big hotel on the Plymouth Hoe, where Francis Drake played his famous bowls game as the Spanish Amada approached. He was to meet with an American businessman; he was very nice, well presented and polite with a soft southern accent. He enquired what Jim was studying and why was he was doing Escort work. Jim felt guilty and told him; no point in not. They had a nice meal together; an unexpected but welcome extra, particularly if you are a student struggling financially. Afterwards he was invited up to his hotel suite for a drink, while he phoned his office in the States; they were on flip side time to the UK. Or; he could wait in the bar until he finished his call. Jim liked him and agreed to go and wait in his suite while he made his calls. When the calls were finished he came through from the bedroom. Sat down next to Jim and asked him directly; if he was gay? Jim said no, never did anything like that; why? He said he would be very appreciative if he was and he could show him what to do. He put some money on the on the couch beside Jim. Looking at the money; Jim said ok. The American started to slowly unbuttoned Jim's shirt and removed it; he then removed his own shirt. Slowly they started to strip until they stood naked facing each other, they had both been getting aroused together as they stripped. They then went into the suite's bedroom together. To start with they both lay on the bed together; he then started to caress Jim intimately. Jim's arousal was starting to develop and he could feel quickly his wetness starting to form; a nice pleasant experience. Then; he could feel cum forming within him and slowly inch forward, his adrenalin started to take over as he became more excited, his breathing, quickened and started to become erratic; his first client was enjoying it; he was too. Although he knew what to expect next; it happened quicker than he thought it would and, was uncontrolled, as cum squirted all over his chest in two large bursts. Now that he knew Jim was fully committed to having sex with him the client started to show Jim what he wanted to do next. He positioned Jim on his back, lifted his knees up, and opened his legs then positioning two pillows under his hips for steading and support. He then put oil on Jim and then himself, leaned forward and pressed on Jim as he tried to enter. It was difficult and awkward at first as this was Jim's first time being entered in this way; then he could feel him slowly press through and enter him until he was fully in; this was the first time Jim had had his prostrate touched in this way. Jim was now starting to fully enjoy the shared experience, the client then started to ungulate back and forth at a gentle pace, and occasionally he could feel him re-touching his prostrate. This added to the thrill and he could feel pre cum start to run out onto him. The client's rhythm was steady; not rushed but relaxed. Slowly the rhythm faltered and slowly became erratic, his breathing deepened; as did Jim's. They were both starting to ungulate in harmony as they built up to a climax, the client suddenly held back as he unloaded inside Jim; Jim could feel the enjoyment as it built up inside him. The client slowly withdrew and he could feel it drain out. It was his first time but enjoyed it. They both then lay together relaxing, the client said thanks I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. Jim said 'yes I did'. Jim was then invited to do the same to him, which he did with a bit of coaching and encouragement. Jim prolonged the experience for the both of them as long as he could; then unloaded. The client said 'yes' that was good, they both then lay back enjoying the moment and recovering. Afterwards they showered together, which was an erotic experience too. Jim returned to his small one bed room but with enough money to pay his rent for the next few weeks. He met up with the organiser the next day, for confidentiality no names were ever exchanged, who was very pleased with Jim, as his client had called up praising Jim for his companionship the previous night. And; he would like to meet him for the next three nights, could he arrange it. Jim accepted. Jim had his first regular Escort assignment, when he was over from the States which was once or twice a month. The organiser arranged other special meets for Jim too. That's how he funded his degree and found out that he was gay; because he liked to be. I explained that I was not gay, except when I went to college, I met Ian and all that changed and I liked it too. Ian was now a policeman in New Zealand, other than odd letters we were not in contact with each other. I also told him my story of my college days when I explored my sexuality with Ian and some friends. I also said that I wondered how I would have reacted had I been offered Escort work. This was to be a defining confession for me. As he was telling me his life story he placed his finger on my bare leg and rubbed it slowly up and down my leg, I was starting to get aroused by this, not annoyed, and he then started to stroke me gently. I was really enjoying it. It was not long before I was stroking him too, he seemed to be enjoying it too. Our watch finished and we went below. In the cabin we sat next to each other on Jim's bunk waiting to see who would start. Jim pulled off his shorts, I did the same, and we both sat together each aroused. Then we joined in his bunk, we embraced and explored each other intimately. We reached the point where we knew we would have to take it to the next stage again or ease off. That was no longer an option as we both wanted sexual excitement. We went to the next stage. Jim went first, positioned me to receive him and started to enter, uncomfortable to start with, but eased as we both relaxed. We were both a bit over excited by this time and it was over quicker than it should have been. We reversed positions, bit less tense this time. Afterwards we lay together for a while then went to our respective bunks. Both of us slept naked that night and each night afterwards. We were both awakened the next morning by the Skipper banging on the door telling us, time to get up as we had the watch in 30 minutes. Both of us pulled on our shorts and went for a shower and tidied our bunks and cabin. Our first full day at sea and what a day. We worked well together, the day passed quickly, we had joint mess duties that day, and fortunately we had a full time cook so nobody got food poisoning during our watch. We both looked forward to the night, as we had a mid-watch; the night was split in two. This meant we were twice as tired in the morning. We arrived in France two days later about ten in the morning, so we had almost a full day ashore that was fun too. We went to a naturalist beach along with some of the other guests. As it turned out most of the guests on board were gay or at least, inclined to explore options. With time. We had a fun two weeks in particular at the private beach parties. There was some swapping taking place but was limited to a few couples, we all had a fun holiday and were well tanned, all over with no tan lines; when we returned to Plymouth. As I had a third weeks leave Jim invited me to stay with him for the week in his apartment and he could show me the area. I agreed. Not long after we arrived at his apartment his phone rang. He said ok I will come back to you on this shortly. He then asked me, you know how you said you always wondered what it would be like to do Escort work. Yes? Well would you like to make up a foursome tonight; it was his organiser on the phone. Don't know why but I agreed; I was quite excited about the prospect and had Jim to show me the ropes; so to speak. We went to the same hotel on the Hoe, where Jim had his first client night. We were directed by reception to go straight up to their executive suite on the top floor. We entered; never saw a hotel room this big before; it was complete with bedrooms, lounge area, a very private veranda and bar. There were four guys there; Jim said we were told there would only be two of you tonight. They apologised for the late unexpected change of plan but we would be compensated for it; if we were still interested. There were two rooms in this suite if that helped. Jim agreed; I just followed his lead. We were led into one of the rooms, which were also adjoining. It was explained what they wanted, which included us dressing up in a short nightie; and each of us would have two clients together and would have one room each. We went to our respective rooms, got changed, not tried that before but must admit I liked dressing up, no makeup or wigs just clothes; which were rather sexy. The first two came into my room with only their towels on, sat on the bed beside me and started to fondle me together. Hands were everywhere fondling and stroking me, they were so gentle, and it was nice and very arousing and a wee bit messy too. Not what I expected; I didn't really know what to expect. As I stood up I felt some oil being applied and someone start to enter me, at the same time I felt the start of an oral massage; never experienced both at the same time before; it was exhausting but fun. After a short while I could feel my cum starting to build, I tried to hold it back, like Jim said to prolong the experience. My prostrate was starting to react as well. I couldn't hold back any more neither could they; we all seemed to explode cum together. After a short recovery respite break, they wanted to reverse roles. They started as before, clearly they had worked in unison before. Wasn't long before we all climaxed again. The next time I was to give the oral massage, just as well as I don't think I could have cum for a third let alone a fourth time. His partner gave him an anal massage. Another role reversal and we started again. By this time we were all getting exhausted. We all put on our towels or straighten our short nighties and returned to the main room. For refreshments and relaxation. After about a half hour or so they wanted to start over; but swapping around this time. I returned to my bedroom being joined by the remaining two clients. This time they ripped off the nightie and frilly pants that I was now to wear, not violent; just in a fun way; it was fun too. We then repeated what happened before; they were a bit quicker this time in cuming, I think long term exhaustion was setting in; it was with me. When we finished we all lay in the bed together, this time they were both massaging the inside of my leg. I could feel my cum building again but couldn't seem to hold it back no matter how hard I tried. They liked that; I suppose I did too. We all retired back into the lounge area, this time Jim and I were the only two standing there naked; they all had their towels back on. They wanted us to give them a show while they watched us, I didn't know what they wanted but Jim did; I followed his lead. We both gave each other anal then oral as they watched on with drinks in their hands. I think they took some photographs of us on their phones. I should have felt humiliated at this but I didn't. I lost track of how many times I had cum that night or how many times I was entered. They let us have a shower together; again they watched and photographed us as we washed and cleaned each other, dried each other off and got dressed together. Jim was handed a thick envelope as we said our farewells. We headed back to Jim's flat; went to bed together but to sleep this time. The next morning Jim gave me half of what was in the envelope, it paid for about half of our sailing holiday. What an experience never expected that when I went on a sailing holiday. Later on in the morning the Organiser phoned Jim to say the clients were very pleased with us and said next time they were over could we entertain them again. What can you say we enjoyed it too. The rest of our week we toured Cornwall as planned. On the Thursday afternoon Jim's phone rang; it was the organiser. Would we both be available to meet a client and his friends on his yacht in Penzance marina for an afternoon visit; Jim asked me I said yes; why not. He then explained what they were looking for; sounded like what happened on the Hoe a few days ago. It was about an hour's drive from where we were. We found their yacht, it was very big; much bigger that the 65 foot yacht that we had come off. No crew they were crewing it themselves and were about to head over to France tomorrow. But, they wanted some discreet same sex fun with strangers tonight. They wanted it on a one to one basis and had organised two cabins with double beds where we were to entertain them. The cabin I had was not that big but ok. I got striped down to my underwear when the first of them arrived with only his shorts on. Looking at him he was already fully aroused and ready to go. We stripped off what we had on; he wanted it with me standing against the bulkhead; not on the bed. He came up behind me; I could feel his warm and oiled erection touch me as his hands held onto my hips. He then pushed very hard and fully entered in one movement; he then withdrew completely and reentered, he was very quick with each stroke. It wasn't long before he came all over me but fully satisfied with what he had achieved. The second one came in, naked this time, he wanted me to lie on the bed and hook my legs over his shoulders. He was much gentler and relaxed as he enjoyed himself, slowly he built up his excitement; I was enjoying it too. I could feel him building into a climax and start to cum slowly. As he withdrew I could feel his cum drain away; a very pleasant experience. My last one came into the cabin with his towel on, which he never took off; he wanted to give me an oral massage as I sat on the bed for him with my back against the head board. I felt him start to massage me, slowly but quite purposefully. He was very good at it and I was slowly started to enjoy the experience; no rushing just a gentle building up of cum; each time building up a bit more before he eased off. Although I was trying to hold back I was starting to lose out, the more I tried to hold back the more excited I became. I soon started to breath heavy and loud and ungulate uncontrollably, I could not help it; suddenly it all came together as I unloaded in one pulse. The client really enjoyed doing it; that all he wanted to do and left. Jim came in and said we can use their showers which we really needed by this time; we had a shared shower, dried off and got dressed into clean sportswear that we had brought with us. We joined them in the main lounge area; they were now all dressed ready to go into town for a few beers. They handed Jim an envelope with their thanks. We all left together, we went to get my vehicle, and they headed into town; about ten minutes' walk for them. As we drove back we were sort of uncomfortable sitting in my Land Rover, but not as uncomfortable as we were returning from my first night at the hotel on the Hoe. A hot bath helped. Jim explained that this type of visit with a client was not uncommon; they only wanted you for an hour or so of excitement. His preference was for the whole night together as an escort, then maybe but often sex, afterwards or all night. Sometimes he would be with them for a few days, which may involve a night in London at a theater or gay club; or occasionally one of London's many sex clubs. Jim was thinking of giving up his job at the Dockyard, too many people knew what he did and were becoming increasingly more offensive and vocal about it. His security clearance was reviewed following a complaint by someone; unnamed; his security clearance was renewed at a higher level. No explanation given; other than just a routine check. As he was now making almost twice as much on part time escort work than at the dockyard, he was thinking of giving up his job at the dockyard. His organiser, who he had nicknamed the Admiral because he had just bought himself a yacht, on hearing this offered him effectively full time work. It would be mainly for a few days at a time with the occasional one night visit. He asked me would I be interested in working for the Admiral full or part time; I said I would think about it. Jim and I still keep in touch and have since done quite a few twosomes Escorts together; some overseas. We like our chosen professions.

Slowly but surely I am writing the chronicle of my life. I am writing this as much for myself as anyone else. I am an older man now, I work as a Massage Therapist, and teach massage at a local college. To help make sense of this story, you may wish to read the "Patti" series first. When the wild Party at my house degenerated into nothing less than a full- blown orgy, my life changed. I finally made love with Carol that night, and it was "right!" Carol and I grew up together, we picked on each other as children. She seemed to hate me early on, but we were always together. It grew to us holding hands on the bus, she was my first kiss. Everyone, the entire family, friends, all of them just assumed we would end up man and wife. But I married Patti.... Patti was a natural Redhead, sexuality oozed out of her, men drooled at the sight of her. She knew it, too, and she dressed to make it known she was pure sex! We were in the back seat of my old Chevy on the very first date, and from then on it was everywhere, constant. Carol took my marriage in stride, if she was hurt, it didn't show. But whenever I saw her, she would give me that look, and the slow smile. It was like the sun came out! Patti and I fought like cats and dogs, and screwed constantly. And Patti was jealous of Carol, even though in all the time growing up, Carol and I had done little more than sneak a few kisses. The night of the Party, I saw Patti with Carl, and it didn't bother me at all. But when Carol and Darin were together, I felt a pang of jealousy, I knew it should have been me. Carol went and showered, and I joined her on the beanbag chair. As we touched, and began our lovemaking, something happened. We joined, and it was perfect, we fit. I knew right then my marriage to Patti was a mistake. Patti left me soon afterwards, it was an easy separation. There was no point in making a fuss, she knew and I knew that all we had was sex. I married Carol just a few months later. How do I explain this union? The best description I can think of, is put on a new pair of shoes that fit like they have been on your feet for years! Carol was like that. If I was thirsty, she would look at me, get up and go get me a drink. She knew every single thought in my head. During the 5 years we were together, we never had a single argument. Our lovemaking was always intended to give the other maximum pleasure. Carol knew about my voyeuristic tendency, too! There was no shyness in her at all, she would note that I spotted a likely candidate to give a peek to, and she would figure out some way to flash them. There were literally hundreds of incidents, but one of the best ones comes right to mind. We were out at a local park, sitting on a bench. The bench and table were elevated above the pathway, anyone walking by had to actually look upwards slightly to see us. As we sat there enjoying the day, and the warm sunshine, a young park attendant came working his way down the path. He had one of those paper spears, and a carry sack, just wandering along cleaning up. Carol hopped up on the table, since she was facing into the evening sun, this was almost like shining a light up her soft dress. As the young man neared, he glanced up at us. I saw the reaction as he realized he could see all the way up Carol's dress, and there were no panties! But then there never were. He slowed, then looked at me in nervousness. I smiled and said "Hi", adding some drivel about nice day. I glanced at Carol, from my vantage point I could almost see all the way, I knew the young man had a clear and complete view. Carol reached down and absentmindedly rubbed her leg, opening them a bit more and moving the skirt even higher in the process. By now the guy realized he was getting a show, and he was staring up Carol's dress. The sun was shining in there, it was like floodlights, there was nothing to miss! I stepped down to the walkway, and looked up at the view. Carol grinned and lay back on the tabletop, looked right at the two of us, and slipped her skirt up to her waist. Then she slid her hands down each leg, and opened up all the way! Her pussy popped open, just as I heard a voice say, "Look at that!" I looked around, and a young couple had come down the path. At the sight of Carol, they both stopped and stared. I noted the grin on the guy's face, and the smile on the lady's, and turned back just as carol hopped up and took off for the car at a dead run! I grabbed our blankets and cooler, and took off after her. We made it to the car, hopped in the back seat and got it on right there in the parking lot! Our whole life was like that, amazing, perfect for each other. One morning she headed out the door to run to town for a few items, a trip she had made a hundred times. Just six miles. An hour later, the phone rang and my world went black. "Mmm.." I said groggily through a gag. Well, I'm fucked. I've seen a ton of horror movies and I'm pretty sure I know how this is going to end. Let's consult the Kidnapped and Probably Gonna Die Soon Checklist: Mouth filled with a filthy clothe gag? Check. Pitch blackness in a cold room? Check. Hands and feet tied down with some very tight ropes? Check. Beautiful, young, red headed girl, 5' 7" with curves for days? Check. Well, partial check, I'm not all girl. The bindings around my wrists and ankles don't budge as I test their strength. Yep, they're pretty tight. You see, I was given a little something extra by my sweet parents' genetics. A cock with a set of balls and a pussy. You're probably thinking, "Well they've got to be deformed and useless." You'd be wrong. Large, fully functioning and more easily aroused than I'd like, but what can I do. As it all sets in on me, in my 22 year old mind, I start to panic. Just a little. "MMMMPH! NNGH! MMMMMM!!" If you don't understand "gagged", it translates to "GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE." This would be a lot better if it wasn't so cold (Or if I wasn't bound and gagged) but it's pretty fucking cold. I'm laying on some kind of metal table, and the binds that hold me seem to be some kind of hemp rope. I start breathing heavily. I don't want to die like this... A sputtering cough sounds off above me as well as the rattling of chains. Someone else? Another captive, or my captor? Suddenly, bright fluorescent light shines into my eyes. As my eyes adjust, I realize I'm stark naked; not surprising. Probably why I was so cold. I've got a flat tummy, smallish boobs (a good handful), and, my pride and joy, my big girl. She's a good 10 inches hard, but in this cold, she's her small six inch self. Keeping her company are a couple of tennis ball sized... Well, balls. They fluctuate in size depending on my masturbation schedule, but that's been thrown off recently. All this was in a nice shaved, hairless package. I look down at my cock. It's in this weird contraption that I hadn't felt until now when I could see it. Some kind of combination between a flesh light and a breast pump... Fucking pervert kidnapper. I try to jiggle my hips so I can try and flick this thing off, then I feel something weird. My butt is wet... And I know this feeling. It's a thick dildo, and it's inside my lubed ass... "Mmmph.. MMMMPH!" That's "I'm so fucking creeped out, someone HELP!" I take a look around the room, and it's looks like a garage or someone's basement. Great. This is usually the kind of place where terrible shit happens. There's not much in the room that I can see from this vantage point except for something really peculiar. A man, suspended upside-down, perpendicular to me, up in the air. See, I'm parallel to the ground right now, so we're making some kind of fucked up L shape where I can look right into his eyes if I look directly up. He's got this weird mask on him that covered his nose and mouth, similar to the ones used by anesthesiologists during surgery. It has wide tubes attached to it that fall towards the floor, and from what else I can see he's tied up pretty well. Ropes bound his torso, arms, and legs, but his cock is hanging open and free, flopping onto his exposed stomach. His coughing starts to clear up, and he makes low throat clearing sounds as his eyes begin to open. He starts to take in his surroundings; looking left and right, then at my feet and legs. He looks agast at my cock (probably surprised at the size, most are at first) and then up to my breasts. Then my eyes meet his. We connect eyes in a weird way, at first it's a look of "we're fucked", then to "I know you..." then to another "we're fucked." Then he starts to shake and scream, like a worm dangling from a leaf. Suddenly, clicking sounds go off, then the whirring of machines. This cannot be good. My metal bed starts feeling warmer, not scalding, but like a pleasant warmth. Then the dildo in my asshole starts to move in and out of me, but not in a machine-like thrusting way. No, this feels almost like a real person sans the throbbing. It's an 8 inch dildo, thick and with balls. It thrusts into me to the hilt, and slowly slides out to the head, then back to the hilt before leaving me empty again. My cock is starting betray me slowly with each thrust of the machine, and it starts hardening. Not the best time for that ol' girl. With each thrust, my pussy juices flow a little more, and my cock beats to life. Veins coming forth, making me rigid and filling out the tightness of the flesh light. As my cock comes to full mast, it raises the contraption along with it. Then the flesh light/breast pump machine beginnings to awaken. A pulley on the ceiling pulls taught on the machine so that it stands without my cock having to support it. Then it slowly starts to milk my cock. Under normal circumstances, I'd love a flesh light that could take care of the work for me, but this isn't normal circumstances. This is fucking weird, and disgusting. I glance up at the my kidnapped companion above me and he's staring at the machine; or is he staring at my cock? His brown eyes glances up at my face and meet my green, and I look at him with eyes full of hate. This is the asshole that fired me. Daniel was my boss, now he's just an asshole. He has short dark curly hair, brown skin complexion and he stood to be a little taller than I was; the same height when I wore heels. He was also slender, more slender than me probably. Up until last night, (what time was it now anyway?) I was working at his office as a writer, and now I'm unemployed because I wouldn't heed his advances. I started to think he might have been behind this stunt, but obviously he wouldn't be so tied up if he was in control. I stared into his eyes with anger as he looked back into mine with fear. He always seemed to be a coward to me. I was quickly brought back by the suction of the flesh light machine. The pleasure was immense. The machine made a loud sucking and slorping noise like the sound of a really sloppy blowjob. The curvature of the fake pussy nuzzled lovingly on every vein of my cock. I'd used many flesh lights before, but this was truly something masterful. I could feel precum mixing with the lube inside the fleshlight slowly begin to flow down the underside of my cock and around my hairless nuts. I closed my eyes and muffled moans escaped my gag as the combined dildo and flesh light worked me. The dildo thrust in and out of my tight butt, not used to it's size and girth. I could feel the ring of my asshole tightening and gripping the cock as it pounded me. My wet pussy flowed juices like a leaky faucet down to my punished asshole. As I laid there writhing in pleasure, I peeked open my eyes to look at Daniel. His eyes were glued to my thick throbbing cock, bouncing inside the flesh light machine. Gears whirring and air pressure escaping it like a tire pump. "Mmm... Nnngh!" filtered through my gag. Then I noticed some warm droplets falling onto my tits. I glanced up to see Daniel's hard cock throbbing precum. It looked to be a good size, at least 6 or 7 inches. Watching his bobbing cock got the best of me. I felt it in my big balls, as they rose and tightened to the base of my veiny hose. I pumped my thick cum like my life depended on it ( it very well might!). On the end of the flesh light machine, was bulb like device and a series of tubes that flowed to floor similarly to the ones on Daniel's mask - and what do you know, they're connected. The tube turned from translucent to pearly white as my girl batter quickly made it's way through the tubing. Shifting my eyes from my tube to Daniel, I caught his face full of horror as he slowly connected the dots. The cum climbed the wide tubing that met his mask and a forceful stream of cum splashed onto his lips and nose. With no where else to go, the mask quickly filled to the brim with my thick, hot load. Daniel sputtered and coughed, wiggling in his chains before calming down. He began to concentrate on surviving the onslaught of jizm. He made loud gulping sounds as I watch his throat swallow load after load of my cum. His eyes were shut, and veins were surfacing on his forehead from being upside down. Beads of sweat were falling from his head as the mask began to clear up and I could hear him begin to breath heavily once he finished all he could. His cock didn't seem to miss a beat-if anything it looked harder-and neither did mine. More of his precum fell on my chest, this time in long strings as I could him leaning his head upwards so that he could lick the mask clean. The dirty bastard. I started cumming again. My fat balls tightened and my veins thickened. I wanted to fill that mask up again. His eyes looked worried and fearful, yet there was a twinge of lust. I wanted to see him eat more of my cum. Maybe drown in it. He deserves this for firing me. On most occasions, I pour out a good load or two. On a regular week, I could cum at least 2 or 3 cups worth. I take a special vitamin supplement just so I can make the biggest loads. It gets me off, what can I say. Today was a special occasion though. I'd been saving and edging my cock all week just for some lucky girl that I wanted to give my giant load to. Guess that's gonna be you, Daniel. The pumps squeaked air, as the flesh light worked my cock and the dildo pumped in and out of my asshole. Daniel watched his next load come through his feeding tube as it splashed his face with warm cum once again. After this second load though, the machines began to get better at what they were doing, or maybe I was even more turned on by all that was happening. "Unngh.. MMMMPH!!" I started cumming again. Back arching up off the table, I thrust up into the flesh light machine, humping it, trying to get more out to feed Daniel with. I bit deep into my gag, saliva soaking through. My cock could never have been more turned on, and the veins splayed across it made it look the thickest it's ever been. I rocked my ass back against the dildo pumping my ass and squirted another load into the flesh light. Daniel, still concentrating on drinking his second load, look worriedly into my eyes. "The fuck are you doing?! Are you trying to kill me???" His eyes seemed to say. Maybe. Just keep drinking and you'll survive, I thought with a smile curling around the ends my mouth held open by the gag. Daniel's cock shot more and more precum onto my body. As his cock stayed rigid and throbbing, Daniel looked to be struggling. He had barely gotten a third of the cum from the second load-taking a small breathe of respite-before another thick load of cum filled it right back up, with more waiting in the tube. He choked a bit as the load seemed to get the best of him, wiggling in his chains, and shuddering as he forced himself to gulp it down with the rest. Sweat pouring off his forehead and skin going purple. He clutched his eyes shut and swallowed again and again. I watched his stomach go from flat to bulging through out all of this, and a sense of pride came over me. I didn't want to hurt him honestly, but lust had over come me as well as the rage from him firing me. I was wanted to make him pay, and he wasn't making it easier. Daniel came on me without a hand ever touching him. His cock had enough and shot streams of cum on my body. 4 or 5 shots of warm watery cum covered my stomach and breasts. His body shook and he thrust against the air, looking to be having the biggest orgasm he might ever have, or ever will if he drowned in my girl cum. I knew that if I had cum once more, this would be the end of him... But if he didn't want to drown in my cum, he wouldn't have came. I shook, writhed against the bench, cumming all I had into that flesh light to feed Daniel. The immense pleasure washed over me as I moaned into the saliva soaked clothe gag in my mouth. I grabbed at the wrist binds that held me, and my cock shuttered cum into the apparatus. Daniel had finished off most of the cum from before, but this was unbelievable. His tired eyes looked into mine, and only then did I start to feel bad for what he was about to face. Sorry, guy. His stomach already looking incredibly full from the last load, but the meal was already on it's way. The mask filled quickly and the load had backed up all the way to the flesh light machine, which started to sound a bit off. Perhaps cum had gotten into places it shouldn't have? It started to chug, malfunctioning and stopped pumping completely. I wiggled my hips and the machine flew off with a loud "Slorp!" and my hard cock flew side to side, flinging cum every which way. As it hung in the air, cum spilled out of it. The machine still hard at work on my asshole, suddenly cut off, and all I could hear were the echoing sounds of Daniel's throat choking on my cum. Too much cum still inside of his mask for him to breath, he shuttered for a few moments still trying to get down all of the fresh thick cum in his throat. At that moment, there was the sound of a door opening and footsteps entering the room. A dark gloved hand slipped over Daniel's mask, pulling it off, my own cum slopping onto my face. Thanks. Daniel's chains lowered him to floor as he barfed up all of what he was forced to swallow onto the floor. I didn't see all of it, I only heard it. Suddenly my vision was again obscured by darkness. A hemp bag? Great. That must be almost 10 yeas now. I was in my late 30s and married back then. I was working for an international company as Regional Director. Every few months, I had to fly to Asia for business meetings. One year, I went to Southeast Asia for a business trip but unfortunately the meeting in Bangkok was cancelled at the very last minute. so I had a few days to kill there and I decided to get out of Bangkok for a change. I booked a taxi to Pattaya, which I had never been, for a few days. The resort hotel I booked was not in the touristy area in Pattaya, for a reason. I just wanted some peace and quiet. The hotel was quite close to local residential area. I could see there was a local food stall less than 3 minutes' walk from my hotel which was filled with locals. After I had checked in, I decided to have my lunch there. As I sat down, a slim Thai waitress, 5'5", 50kgs came and took my order. She was wearing a red dress with some makeup on. She looked pretty young, must be about 20, the most. I pointed at the soup noodles at the next table since I didn't speak Thai and had no idea the name of the noodles. She smiled and asked me in English where I was from. I told her what happened and how I ended up here in Pattaya on my own. I also told her that my hotel was just across the road. My noodles arrived and I finished it quickly because I was quite hungry. The noodles were delicious actually. I then asked for the bill and we got chatting. From our conversation, I knew that she was still a high school student. She told me her name, Ying and she was a ladyboy (which I suspected). I had been to Thailand many times and I could roughly tell when I saw one. She asked me what I intended to do in Pattaya and I told her I had nothing planned. I then headed back to my hotel. My room was on the 2nd floor of a two-storeyed wooden building. I could see from my balcony through the trees that there was a open air swimming pool. Since it was a hot day, I then decided to go for a swim. When I came back to my room, I had a cold beer and a nap. When I woke up, it was dark outside. I had no idea how long I had slept. I got up and walked to the shower. Then I heard someone kept knocking on my door. I had to stop washing my hair, grabbed a towel and rushed to the door. To my surprise, it was Ying! When she saw me in my towel and my hair was full of shampoo, she laughed. I was quite embarrassed and invited her in. I was really surprised that she appeared in my room because I didn't remember inviting her over or telling her my room number. Anyway, I let her sit on the sofa and went back to finish my shower. I quickly finished my shower and dried myself. I came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my waist. I was pretty glad that I did go to the gym on a regular basis. Despite approaching middle age, looking and feeling more like a daddy, my body was still in good shape. She looked at me up and down and smiled. I smiled back at her trying to cover the embarrassment that she was checking out my body. She then said, "You have a very nice body." " I need to go to gym more often." "You don't have to. You look perfect for a man your age." "That's very kind of you. Thank you." I grabbed a underwear from my luggage and trying to put it on back in the bathroom, but before I managed to walk away, she said "You don't need it when you are having a massage." "A massage?" I wondered. "I don't remember booking a massage." "You do now.....a free one," she said it confidently. She nodded and walked towards me. She sat me down by the bed, turned the lights off in the room, leaving only the bedside light. I was getting very confused and nervous because I wondered whether it was a scam, let alone being massaged by a ladyboy. She must have read my mind. She convinced me that it wasn't a scam. She also explained that she helped out at her family food stall during daytime and a masseur in the evening when she was free. But tonight she just wanted to give me a free massage because that was what Thai people do for their friends. She then took a massage mat out from her bag and placed it on the bed and asked me to lay face down. She moistened her hands with some massage oil which smelled like lemongrass. She started with my shoulders and then slowly moved down to my back. Her strokes were warm and firm. I was amazed how powerful her hands were despite her slender body. I then could feel she was trying to undo my towel. I had been massaged numerous times but not by a ladyboy. I had to say I was not only confused, nervous, but excited at the same time. After all, I kind of knew her by now since we chatted earlier today and this was actually the second time we met and she told me about her background. I was married for more than 10 years but never once been interested in ladyboys. I had nothing against people's sexuality and preferences. As a matter of fact, I had some close friends who were gays. But this close to a ladyboy, that was the first. I lifted my stomach a little so that she could undo my towel. She put the towel on my buttocks and continued her massage under the towel, unto my thighs and between my thighs....I could feel tingling sensation as she massaged my inner thighs. I had a rush of excitement rushed through my body. She then finished my legs and feet. She asked me how I felt and turned me around. I told her she was fantastic but I forgot that my towel was undone because when I turned, the towel fell off my body and I was totally exposed in front of her. She gave me a sweet smile when she saw that I had semi erection. She told me not to worry about the towel and continued her massage on my chest. I couldn't think properly then and just let her decide what was best. I honestly couldn't explain how I felt. Embarrassed? Aroused? Confused? Nervous? Excited? Maybe it was a mixture of everything and more. I always thought I was straight but now my body actually had a reaction to the touch of a ladyboy.....Maybe I needed to reevaluate myself. My mind was everywhere and my breath was getting heavier as she moved her palms around my chest. I had very sensitive nipples. Every time her hands brushed my nipples, it sent intense sensation through my whole body. She was literally above me as she massaged my chest, our bodies were so close that we could hear each other breathe. I could even smelled her...I mustn't think too much, so I just closed my eyes, swallowing my saliva and enjoying her working on my body. My body is rather muscular and much bigger than her. It must be hard work for her massaging me. I could feel that she had used a lot of strength. I told her that she should have a rest. She nodded and walked to the bathroom. I must have fallen asleep and didn't realise until she continued her massage. I felt her touch on my thighs and more..... I totally woke up and reacted to her touch on my cock and balls. It was so soft, warm and moist. I had a massive erection and my foreskin pulled back completely. When I opened my eyes, I couldn't believe my eyes because she was topless! Despite her slender body, she actually had a pair of full and round breasts. I sat up, as she was massaging my cock. I pulled her close and held her in my arms. She gently wrapped her arms around my neck, legs around my waist and rested her head on my shoulder. I could feel her nipples pressed against my chest and it was electric. I looked at her face. Such a lovely sweet face. I kissed her gently. She reacted passionately and stuck her tiny tongue into my mouth and we kissed passionately. She caressed my nipples as we kissed. I got even harder by then. I lay her down, lay on top of her, I caressed, kissed and sucked her breasts madly, as if I had never made love before. I then kissed her behind her ears, her neck. She enjoyed it very much. Her eyes rolled back. She moaned. She groaned. I knew she wanted it. She needed it. The more she moaned and groaned, the more she excited me. I wanted to give it to her.... I had never been this horny and excited before. It was explosive. My cock was rock hard and dripping with precum. It was all over my stomach. I pulled down her shorts and underwear. I saw a tiny ladyboy cock. I looked at her, she gestured me to give it a taste. I lowered my head and put it in my mouth. The head felt silky in my mouth. That was the first cock in my mouth, not only that, but a ladyboy cock. She then reciprocated, she crawled on my body, wrapped her thick lips around my 6-inch cock. She adored my cock so much that she sucked it up and down while making the "mmmm mmmm" sound. She was hungry and greedy. She licked my balls and swallowed them in her mouth. She certainly knew how to please me. I had to stop her from sucking my cock too much before I exploded in her mouth. I really needed to cum by then. I was beyond horny. It just had to be done, be it ladyboy or not. I applied generous amount of massage oil on my cock and around her anal. I pulled her closer, resting her legs over my shoulders. She was totally exposed and ready for me to penetrate her. I could see her ladyboy pussy hole. We didn't have a condom but I really couldn't wait any longer, I had to do it. I held my cock in my right hand, aiming at her hole, I stuffed all the way in until I couldn't go any further. She moaned, she groaned. She was moist, warm and tight. After we both got comfortable, I started fucking her in a rhythmic fashion. We both moaned and groaned like two wild animals. We were in a trance, we were in heaven. It never felt so right. After a few minutes, I lifted her up and placed her on a table and started fucking her again. I played with her breasts and she played with my nipples as I fucked her furiously. We were beasts. I just loved the looked on her sweet face as I pleasured her deeply. I kissed her repeatedly as if there was honey in her mouth. I just couldn't get enough. We then changed position again. She was on all four this time as I took her from behind. I could penetrate her the deepest in this position. Slapping my balls against her ass. We made a lot of noise enjoying each other's body. I noticed she came at this point. As for me, I just couldn't hold it any longer. I had to shoot and I shot the biggest and hottest load in my life, inside her. I shot so much that the cum dripped on her balls. By then, we were both exhausted. I stayed inside her until I got soft. It was the best sex I had ever had, period. We rested for a while, we then showered together. I gave her a very good tip. She declined but I insisted. She was happy, and so was I.

Today I came face to face with a demon. I was surfing the Internet, and reading some stories at my favorite erotic literature site (Literotica, of course), and the thing leaped out into my mind and spacked me across the ego. I say it spacked me because demons spack, they don't smack. But that's another story. So this demon spacked me across my ego good and hard, and boy did that get my attention. Just one good hard spack, and I was all ears. Of course, this was all going on in my mind, so I wasn't really all ears; but I was suddenly paying a lot more attention than I had been just moments before, let me tell you! And what this invisible but oh-so-unpleasant beast said to me shocked me. Knocked my socks off! Or would have, if I was the type to wear socks. (I prefer deck shoes without, or barefoot, thank you.) This demon stood there, in my mind, and casually knocked my other thoughts out of the way with its invisible girth - what an odd word, girth, isn't it? - and stood there forming a hole which I could see through, all the while demanding that, of all things, I am a pornographer. Pornographer? I'm a pornographer?! ME?!! "Yes!" it screamed. "YOU! You are a pornographer! And you should stop lying about it. Face it, you're a pornographer." "But, I -" "Pornographer." "I can't -" "Pornographer!" "But -" "Are you fucking deaf or something? Jesus, man, face it! You're a fucking pornographer!" I didn't know demons could say "Jesus". "How am I a pornographer? I'm not a pornographer. I'm an artist! I'm a writer! I'm a photographer! But not a pornographer!" "Fuck me in my dirty demon double ass, man, you fucking write porn for fun! You write pornographic stories. For fun. You are a pornographer." "But I -" "Let's look at this in geek speak, shall we? What do we have when we say 'pornographer'? We have the word 'porno' and the word 'grapher'. What's 'grapher' mean, Sherlock? That's right, it means 'writer'. And what's 'porno' mean? I don't think I have to spell that one out for ya." I stood there, inside my own mind, stunned. This invisible demon bastard had cornered me quite effortlessly in an argument. Mainly because I argue logically, and it was right. I write sexually explicit fiction for fun. And call it what I may, it's porn. I'm a pornographer. Wow. I just thought about it for a while. I'm a pornographer. Sure, writing is an art form, and I do strive to become a better writer when I write; and sure, my written works are an artistic expression for me in some ways... but there's also that fact that I write sexy stuff because it's an outlet for my raging, endless, unstoppable sex drive. That, and I love getting feedbacks. So I'm thinking about this little self discovery, and another of the little sculptures in my mind begins to crumble. Each of these sculptures is one of my self delusions. I used to have one that was made of white marble, where I was depicted as a chivalrous knight in shining armor with sword and shield, racing to the rescue. That was one of the first to crumble. I also had one where I was perfect. That one went, too. I've been chipping away for years at the one where I'm always right, and I'm making progress... but my statue showing me as a romanticized poet-writer-artist turned to dust then, before my eyes. "Yes," I thought. "I guess when you put it that way... I'm a pornographer." I thought back to the time I'd been trying to learn something about photography from a guy I'd met online at the very same site I'd had this little demon jump into my mind from. He'd told me he was a pornographer, not a photographer. I was aghast. It was scandalous! At the time, I could not comprehend why any man would admit such a thing. But I'm not a pornographer. Really, am I? I don't write what I write because I want to make money from it. At least, not so far. I write it because, well, it's a great way to vividly explore things I'll never get the chance to really do. Or, perhaps things I would never be able to bring myself to do for real. Such as fuck a plant. I'm sorry, but plant fucker, I am not. That's just the way it is. I cannot change that about myself. To me, a pornographer was never someone who wrote erotica or X rated stuff, it was someone who created X rated visual experiences. The guy with the camera who would rent a hotel room and spend a few hours shooting women masturbating, spreading their legs, fucking themselves with various things, and pissing on the carpet just to be naughty. Or the guy who videotaped himself fucking his dog. Or girlfriend. Or both, maybe. That's what I always thought of as porn. But I suppose I can no longer say I write erotica, because seriously, I've written several stories that are beyond just erotic. My one and only attempt at BDSM, for example. Surely that was porn? And my incest story? And... But wait a minute, isn't porn supposed to be something that has no redeeming value otherwise? I mean, to me, most of my written works have been "erotica" because they were also excursions into the art of writing. They were designed to be better than my previous works, and they were designed to make my readers respond in a specific way. Usually, they succeeded; sometimes, they would be read by someone who, for no apparent reason, would read all thirty pages of a story and then conclude that they hated that particular genre. Personally, I think those people need to pull something out of somewhere, but we'll say no more about that here. So, according to some, I'm a pornographer. Maybe I need to consider this some more. Because I never thought of myself as such. I always thought of myself more as an artistic free spirit who helped others enjoy themselves through my guiding words. Then again, there is no one definition of pornography, either. Can I come to terms with being thought of by some as a pornographer? Will I assimilate this into my psyche and become a stronger person for it? Because really, what I'm doing here is facing reality. It isn't pleasant for me on some levels, but then again, logically I see nothing to feel ashamed of, and nothing to feel bad about. In being honest with myself, I'm shedding light on some of the hidden corners of myself, and hopefully clearing away the spiders and their webs, too. Honestly, who wants spiders and spiderwebs in their minds? Not me. Bad enough we have house spiders. Although most of them have decided there's less chance of being murdalized if they remain outside, come to think of it. And I have been known to murdalize 'em. So maybe I'm a pornographer after all. Then again, maybe not. In any case, you have to admit, sometimes demons are useful. After all, if this one hadn't shown up and disrupted my little party, I'd still have no clue that - gasp - I might be a pornographer. Now would I? And that couldn't possibly be a good thing. And you, dear reader, wouldn't have had this little wander through my rambling mind. Thanks, demon. I needed that. I have been in a relationship with the same woman for quite a while. In the passage of time, we both slowly—very slowly—learned, and now accept, that I am a submissive male. It is my nature. And it is her nature to allow me into her intimacy on her terms, rather than on mine. I don't know if I would be submissive, or maybe if I would admit it, had I taken up with a different woman. I suspect each person encourages the development of various attributes of another person's nature within a relationship, especially a long one. Had I taken up with a less self-confident woman, who knows, maybe it would all be different. It is not that she bosses me around, or enslaves me (other than in play sessions). We equally share responsibility in the sense that each of us informally controls a different set of concerns. I am in charge of the more practical things, such as finances, insurance, retirement, matters having to do with dwelling, like house projects or maintenance, vehicle issues, etc. just because it is where my strengths lie. She, on the other hand, is in charge of "matters of the heart,' which includes all of the most important aspects of the relationship itself, such as health (she is a nurse), nutrition, spirituality (we are not religious, but do practice awareness of a higher being whom we don't assume to be able to define), emotional well-being, and most certainly our sexuality. That is where her strengths lie. I like to compare our respective roles to that of a concert pianist, which would be her, and a guy who turns the pages for her. I might be able to turn those pages better than anybody, including her, but she is the one who has to actually play the piece. When you think of it, how important is that guy who turns the pages, anyway, no matter how good he is at it? He can pretty easily be replaced. I am so happy and grateful she continues to choose me to do it. She has the major responsibility for setting the pace, the tone, and making it (the performance of our relationship) all work out beautifully. That's quite a responsibility! I have only a part, and I am the first to admit I can mess up. It is not something I always admitted to. It has slowly developed as a realization along with the evolution of our respective understandings of our roles in the relationship. When I do mess up, she corrects me. It is not that she just assumes authority over me and then acts out in some tyrannical manner. Correction is a two-way communication for which we have developed a ritual that keeps us both (especially me) focused on what we are doing and why we are doing it. Correction happens when she decides we need to review recent relationship performance. It is kind of like resolving to not turn the page too quickly, or too slowly, or not having pages out of sequence, etc. We are making repairs to our relationship, making it whole again after something has marred or damaged it. She is in charge of the performance, and I am the guy turning the pages—that's how we look at it. That's all a nice way of saying it. The reality is, when correction is in order, she punishes me for my failures to the relationship. You might ask, well, what about her? What happens when she fails the relationship? Who punishes her? Well, that's not the point. She is the one making it all turn into something of beauty, so the major work is on her shoulders. Pitiful little failures on my part, and subsequent punishment for it, is an easy thing to bear compared to some major failure on her part, which would make our entire relationship hit sour notes and become discordant. She is almost not allowed to fail, not in any big way. That level of responsibility I know I could never handle, so I defer to her. No, I would never think of correcting her for "matters of the heart," because that is her area, far above my area, and much more important to us than anything I am in control of. In regard to practical matters, if she messes up in my area, such as forgetting to enter a check in the register, sure, I admonish her, and she accepts it. But, punish? No. Punishment is reserved for violations against important things, and the only important thing is the beauty of our relationship. Not the accuracy of our checkbook balance. One time she totaled the car. Punishment for her? Absolutely not, just as she would not have punished me for wrecking the car. I mean, what's a car compared to the love we feel so dynamically between us? It was a 24,000-dollar car. My only concern was that she did not get seriously hurt. So, you get the idea. As I mentioned, part of her area of control involves being in charge of our sex. This was not so from the beginning. After we had been together quite a while, one day I just had to admit to myself that I am not a very good lover. Oh, sure, she occasionally told me I was sweet, and kind, and romantic. But I knew that was usually not the case. I was often moody, and irritable, and selfish about sex. Sometimes, with regard to sex, I would see hurt and disappointment in this beautiful person's eyes, and I knew I was going at it all wrong. It took me a long time to arrive at this realization, and through all of that time she was very patient. I now know that much of the time, as I'm sure is true of many men, I am no more successful directing my sexual urges toward the woman I love than I would be trying to herd a wild boar through a gateway. Maybe in the past, primitive men, because they were forced to be so occupied trying to provide for their families, attended sexual relationships much more skillfully than we do. Selfish, misdirected sexual urges did not have such a hold on them as they have on us contemporary guys. Maybe some of us (I would never say all of us, nor even a majority of us) have lost a little our perspective because we have it pretty easy these days. Just a theory. Anyway, when it comes to sex, she keeps us both focused. She just understands it a whole lot better than I do, and she understands me sexually better than I could ever know myself. One thing we practice is orgasm denial. Orgasm denial for me, that is. We do it in reverse now and then as part of our sexual play, but I am not very good at understanding how to make it a good experience when I am denying her. It is like me trying to play the piano. It is just something I am not good at. So, for the most part, when we are feeling ready for some more intense activity, she may decide to tease and deny, creating a scenario in which my focus is only to serve her whims, because that matches out respective natures. It has a number of dimensions to it, some of which I mention here. First, it is a fun part of sexual play (although initially I had a hard time getting used to it, and often still find it difficult). Second, it is an excellent means of keeping me focused on our relationship and my random urges under control. Third, when she teases me to the point of begging for release, and then denies me, that terrible, frustrating, falling sensation of disappointment, and my acquiescence to it and acceptance of it, after a passage of some hours lights a tiny fire in the middle of my being that slowly develops into a warm flame of love and respect for her. Of course, having been teased almost to the edge, sometimes for hours or even for an entire day, I am physically very uncomfortable. In simple terms, my balls may ache something awful. Enduring that for her, and knowing that she knows I am enduring it for her, allows me to experience urgent, passionate love her more than at any other time. Believe me, I am focused! In that state, I will do anything for her, and she (often waering the expression of a cat who swallowed the canary) quietly assigns me many duties to perform for her, some naughty and some nice. Later, completing the sex act (in any of its variations), whether hours or days later, brings that sense of love and respect we share to a powerful, explosive, intense conclusion. Afterwards, we both feel at peace and our relationship basks in a sense of well-being, often for days. So, you can see why I defer to her in these matters. She knows what she is doing. She is such an intimacy artist. I am just a guy turning the pages. I am thankful to be that guy. James and I had just gone hiking (I'll post that story later) and were heading home. We hadn't had lunch so we were both hungry so we decided to stop by McDonalds on the way. Haley had already taken off her bra and was only wearing her little black running shorts and black singlet. We eventually saw a McDonalds and pulled into the carpark. Whenever Haley walked in this top her nipple, then boob(s) would pop out. We walked in and Haley and I stood a few steps from the counter deciding what to wear. I immediately saw the cashier who was a guy stare at Haley's boobs as he was serving the customer before us. His eyes literally were glued to her chest as he waited for us to order. When we decided what to order I told her to order it and watched the guy's reaction. Haley's top was very low cut and showed a lot of cleavage. I whispered to bend a little more when she also asked for water which resulted in a little bit of her dark areola's peek up from under the flimsy singlet. I must admit the guy was somewhat professional and didn't look and looked at Haley's face as she ordered. We waited to the side and I sneakily snapped two pictures of Haley with her boobs almost showing. We were handed our food and as we passed two guys (around mid-20's), one of them had a quick glance at Haley's ample cleavage. Wanting more pictures I sat down opposite the counter. Haley stood in front of me facing me. The guy was still at the counter ad would have got a good look at Haley's ass in those tight short running shorts. There was a camera to our right so I didn't ask Haley to take out her boobs, but we did manage to get a number of more sexy shots. Since the top was so loose her left nipple came out just a bit (which she didn't realise, so it made for some very sexy pictures). The whole experience had me hard. Although I'd been taking pictures of Haley the whole day, the excitement of being around people, plus the fact the guy at the counter was staring at Haley made it so much better! There's just something about seeing Haley exposed in public that's so sexy, made all the more exciting when someone gets an 'accidental' look! Haley: Hey guys, so the reason I took off my bra was because I'd more or less gone the whole day without a bra, it felt weird to actually wear it. Plus I knew James wanted to try to take some pictures when ordering food. When James told me about the cashier's reaction, I smiled to myself and thought I'd have some fun. James has always wanted to do this at a fast food restaurant but in Australia, many of the cashier's are female. This guy looked new and I think he was a trainee so hopefully it made his day. When ordering I had no clue if my boobs were out or not. I knew I was showing a lot of cleavage and it felt incredibly sexy. Knowing I'd never see this guy again gave me a lot of confidence and I secretly hoped my nipple or boob popped out. James told me to bend and show even more. Usually I wouldn't have listened but I was so excited that I wanted to show more. I leant on the counter and pushed my boobs together ever so slightly giving him a much better look down my top. After we'd ordered and James sat down wanting to take more pictures, my heart was thudding in my chest. I was excited by what I'd just done and I still felt to exposed. It was a really warm day and the McDonald's was air-conditioned which felt great against so much of my exposed skin. The cool air made me feel every inch of skin that I had exposed. I nervously posed for James, only a few metres from the counter. My heart was racing as I kept thinking of what I was doing. I mean I was wearing no bra, it was totally obvious because my boobs were almost spilling out of my singlet. My shorts were tiny and tight and you could see a little bit of my ass from the bottom. There was a lady ordering behind me to the right and a few people eating to my right. Not to mention as I was standing in front of James, behind him and so opposite me was a woman in her car waiting for her meal to be delivered to her. There was a glass window behind James and right behind that was this lady who was looking my way waiting for her meal. It felt like all eyes were on me and it was both exciting and terrifying at the same time. Even as we walked out we walked past a number of people including an employee who kept the door opened for us. I don't think my nipple or boob popped out but I can't sure. They were out when I got into the 4wd but I don't know if they'd popped out on my way back to the car. All in all, a very exciting experience, and one I hope to do again! Heather Sampson tilted her head back, squinting into the bright mid-morning sunlight. This was a bad idea. What had Geoffrey been thinking? She brushed the moisture from her eyes with the back of her hand. She would never know. Just as she would never again engage his brilliant mind in debate about some esoteric topic. He was gone. A year almost, and the pain still felt like it would crush her. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind as she stared at the cruise ship. Just two days ago, she had been safely ensconced in their home. Well, perhaps a better word might be 'hiding out.' As she had been for the past year. She had pushed away all their friends. She was good at that. It was Geoffrey who had always been the buffer between her and the outside world. That buffer was gone now too. All she had was a grown daughter who did not need her anymore. Not even the home they had shared for a decade was hers. She had insisted that Geoffrey leave that to her daughter in his will. She swiped once more at her eyes as she swallowed to clear the lump in her throat. It was not supposed to be this way. They were supposed to grow old together. He had promised her thirty-five years — one for every year that she had searched for Mr. Right. Instead, they had barely more than a decade. It was not fair. Life was not fair. After a lifetime of searching, two failed marriages, and too many lovers to count, Heather had finally found what she needed in Geoffrey. Intelligence. Strength. Kindness. Patience. Everything a man should be. She drew in a deep, cleansing breath. There was no use continuing that line of thought. She had been down it a million times over the past months. There was no answer. Geoffrey was dead. Simple as that. The question was - what now? And she was still no closer to that answer than she had been that day almost a year ago when the doctor had walked through the A&E door. She knew just by the look on his face. And no amount of denial was going to bring the man she loved back. Whether it was a blessing or a curse, Geoffrey had made sure that she and Maisie were taken care of. Her daughter that had become his in every way that mattered, had inherited the house that he had bought for them as well as a trust fund. She had insurance money, more than she would ever use. That should have been a comfort. One less thing to worry about. Instead, it had become a crutch. Heather had not had a job in two decades. Her autistic daughter's needs had consumed all her time and energy. Until he had come along, then the three of them had somehow just clicked. Become the family that Heather had always dreamt of. But now that too was broken. Maisie was off to college, something that they had imagined, planned, and hoped for. And Geoffrey was not there to celebrate their victory. He was not there to do all the kinky things they had planned - once Maisie left. She gave up. This time Heather did not attempt to stop the trail of tears that cascaded down her cheeks. What did it matter? Tears changed nothing. They certainly did not bring Geoffrey back. They did not even lessen the pain that was as sharp now as it had been that day, when the consultant said, "I'm sorry..." She thought about just turning around, getting a taxi back to the train station, and a train back home. But it was not her home anymore. Oh, the will had given her the right to live there for the rest of her life. The thing was that a twenty-two-year-old college student with her first boyfriend did not want her over-protective mother living with them. And that was as it should be. But it still left Heather back to that same place: what now? Then two days ago, Stuart, their friend and Geoffrey's financial consultant, had shown up at the house with a package. Inside was a letter and a ticket. A ticket for the cruise that Geoffrey had promised her when Maisie was old enough to be left on her own. Heather wanted to tear up both. The idea of this cruise without him made it all feel fresh again. Like stripping a band-aid off a wound. A suppurating wound that just would not heal. That was what her life had become. Geoffrey was gone. Maisie had moved on. But she could not. Where was she to go? What was left for her? She wanted to run. But she had no place to run to. His strong arms that she had run to for twelve years were gone. The flesh was probably rotting from the bones by now. Just as her life was rotting like one of her tomatoes left too long on the vine. Neglected. Oh, she had tried. She had walked. Sometimes for hours on the Gower, lost in her grief. The weight that she had worked for so long to lose had fallen off. That tended to happen when you forget to eat. Her aging body had become a sack, an empty bag until she could not stand to look in the mirror. Finally, three months ago, she had worked up the courage to have the tummy tuck she had always joked with Geoffrey and Maisie about. What did her fear of not waking up from the anesthetic matter? Would that be so bad? Would death be so bad? But she had woken up after the surgery. And despite a body that was three sizes smaller, looked better than she had since she was thirty-five, life still sucked. As she recovered, she had lost herself in writing. What else was there to do since she could not wander the Gower lost in thought? Only read and write. She had almost finished her first novel in over two years. But that too left her feeling emptying. What was the point? She did not need the money. A voice over the PA system broke into her thoughts. A final boarding call. She fingered the ticket in her hand. What did she have to lose? She had lost everything that mattered almost a year ago. While she still had Maisie, that did not count, not when her daughter did not need her anymore. She sighed as she rubbed the ticket between her fingers. Didn't she owe this to Geoffrey? Hadn't he gone to the trouble to plan this? She shook her head, knowing that sometimes there were no answers. Even when you wanted and needed them most. The only thing she could do was put one foot in front of the other. Join the queue with all the others. There seemed to be an over-abundance of women, most older even than her fifty- nine. Correction, sixty. She would be sixty when she left the ship in ten days. Sixty, a widow. And no idea what to do with whatever remained of her life. It was not supposed to be this way. *** It could not be. Jan Iverson watched the passengers as they boarded his ship. But it was only one that he saw. He would know her face anywhere. It was the one that had filled his dreams for almost two decades. One he had thought never to see again after that email twelve years ago. He shook his head. No, it could not be her. She was living her happily ever after with some other man hundreds of miles from this Scottish port. He checked the ship's manifest on the tablet in his hand. Were they trembling? His eyes scanned the document. Alighting on the name he sought. He clicked on it, bringing up her cabin information. That could not be right. She was booked into a single cabin. Where was he? The man that had stolen... No, that was not fair. No one could take what was never yours. And while Jan might have enjoyed her body from time to time, that was all it was. All it could be. They had agreed on that years ago. But that had never stopped him from wanting more. Wishing things could have been different for them. But she had a child. A special needs one. And he had decided long ago that kids were not for him. So, they had agreed. Friends with benefits. Though even that was only a handful of times. He still remembered each one. They played in slow motion in his dreams every time he closed his eyes. They had for over twelve years. From the moment he received that email. The moment he knew that this time, he had lost her forever. Even then, he had refused to give up hope. She had had other relationships. It was just a matter of time. She always came back to him. Why wouldn't she? It was the most spectacular sex of his life. But it went beyond that. The kink they shared had blown his mind. Never had he been with a sub who surrendered so naturally, who entrusted herself to him so completely. But he had blown it. Three strikes, and he was out. It was his fault too. He was the one that always pulled back — gone too long between meets, between emails. But what else was he to do? The woman had gotten under his skin. To hold something in your hand. Something that you craved for practically your whole life. And know that you could never really have it. Never own it the way you wanted and needed. Hell, yeah, he had pulled back. He had had to, to keep perspective, to maintain his sanity. None of that answered the critical questions, though. What was she doing on his ship? Why now? And where was the man that had finally given her everything that he could not? Those answers were not in the manifest. But he had ten days. Ten days to find out. And he knew just where to begin. Motioning for the young ensign who was standing a few feet away, Jan scribbled a note on one of the cards he kept in his pocket. "Take this to the woman in cabin 1221. Tell her that she is to sit at the captain's table this evening for dinner," he said as he passed the card to the man. He wondered if the name would ring any bells with her. She had never known his last name. It was one way they had kept it casual. But would she think of another Captain Jan when she saw it? Would she remember those other times when she had sat at the captain's table? Though that was so different from this, a lifetime it seemed. And sitting at the captain's table on a cruise ship was far different than being the only woman in a room of fifty men on a cargo one. He had so enjoyed parading her before his men then. It had filled some sick need to stamp a sign of ownership upon her. Beyond just the bruises, bites, and rope marks that she always left with after their little rendezvous. He looked back up, but she had disappeared into the crowd. He double-checked the manifest. To assure himself that it was not all an illusion. Another of his warped dreams. Another fantasy of having that which was not and never would be for him. No, that was her name. She was on his ship once more for the next ten days. He had no illusion that they would pick up where they left off. She was happy. She had made that clear in the email. She sure as hell deserved it. And he would not do anything to endanger that happiness. But where the hell was he? The man that had become all to her that he never could be. Jan would certainly never allow her to travel alone like this. Didn't the man know that these cruises were dangerous? Maybe not in any physical way, but there were always men, young and old, who came on board to take advantage of women. Women traveling alone, and there were plenty of those to choose from. Jan forced his mind away from those thoughts. He had things to do before they set sail. And he would have time this evening over dinner to get answers to those questions. He would get answers. And he would make sure that she was not one of the women that fell victim on this cruise. He owed her that much at least. He owed her so much more. He wanted so much more from her and with her. But some things were never meant to be. One day he would learn to live with that. One day she would not haunt his dreams — one day. But today was certainly not that day.

The sun is out today. It's warm and there's a slight breeze in the air. I've been fucking you now for nearly a year and this is the first time we've ever gone out anywhere in public together without the intention of fucking. We're sitting in the nosebleed section of the baseball stadium. It's the 6th inning and your team is down by 2 runs. Lots of time to come back you tell me. I'm dreadfully bored. I wouldn't be sitting here torturing myself through this experience for any other person. I believe you when you tell me there's plenty of time left. The game is dragging by. I try to pass the time people watching but we're not exactly surrounded by hoards of people where you've sat us. In fact, the nearest people are six rows down from us, to our left. You told me we'd have a better chance of catching a ball if we were singled out. That would be true if we didn't have to watch the players from the jumbo-tron. I have a secret suspicion that we're really in these seats because they were cheapest. All the same, it doesn't matter. What matters is I'm here with you. You look adorable in your baseball jersey and your cap, I have to admit. And you're wearing my favourite pair of jeans so that doesn't hurt. On the way in you bought me one of those silly foam fingers and we stocked up on all sorts of food at the concession stands too. You suddenly stand up in outrage, screaming obscenities at the umpire (as though he could hear you from here) as one of your players slides into home and is called out. How you can tell from here that the ump made a bad decision, I'll never know. Maybe you're just defending your team regardless of their actions. It must be a guy thing. Either way, it works out to my benefit because when you stand up I get a nice view of your rock hard ass in those jeans. And I could be wrong but I think if I look closely enough from the right angle, I can see your balls moving around too. I wait patiently for you to calm down and sit back in your seat. I'm laughing at you a little as you frustratingly toss your cap on the seat next to you, still muttering. You catch my gaze and huff out a resigned sigh, squeezing my knee and giving me a tight smile. I beam back in your direction and watch you struggle not to laugh with me. You break and look the other way, covering your mouth with a fist, as though that conceals it. I take in your handsome profile, skimming my gaze all the way down your body. You really do look cute. I linger on your lap, imagining what lies beneath those jeans. I bite my lip contemplating it. You've settled back in and once again, you're intent on the game but now I'm intent on you. I know we were supposed to be on a real date today but I'm starting to feel the familiar tug of desire. We've never fooled around out the the broad daylight, in public before. I wonder if the thought has crossed your mind. I turn back to the game trying to forget about it but every time you shift in your seat my peripheral vision catches the movement and I'm finding it hard to concentrate on anything else. I might have stood a fighting chance if I gave any care to whether or not the guys in red and white beat our guys out, but I just don't. In fact, I'm not even sure what's going on and that makes you way more interesting. I understand a lot about you. I decide to test the waters. I nonchalantly reach across you pretending I want Crackerjacks. I do it smoothly enough, only brushing you with my shoulder but then I fumble them and the box falls to the floor. They've landed by your right foot, but almost under the seat; perfect aim. Before you can tear yourself away from the game and retrieve them for me, I spring into action. Bracing myself with one hand on your left knee, I reach down between your legs to pick up the wayward candy. I take care to let my elbow brush your crotch as it passes. On the way back up, I reverse the motion with a little more force, and I can tell you've straightened up just a little. I can feel you looking at me too. Just before my arm breaks contact with the denim, I hear you breathe one breath just a little deeper. Smiling I shake the Crackerjacks box, "rescued!" You're looking at me funny. "What," I ask, the picture of innocence. You shake your head, "nothing, I just thought for a second..."your voice trails off. "You thought," I repeat back in another question, letting it trail off. "Nothing," you repeat, "not important." I open the Crackerjacks and pop one in my mouth, turning back to the game. I feel sly. I know you must be thinking about a little more than just baseball today if it was that easy to affect you. I wait a few minutes and then casually lean over and put my head on your shoulder. Out of habit you slouch down a little toward me, allowing for comfort. I link my right arm around your left and place my right hand on your thigh. I love the feeling of your muscular thighs under my palm. Slowly I edge my fingers further and further to the inside of your leg. I turn toward you and tilt my head into your neck, just below your ear. I'm hardly breathing as I lightly kiss your neck, just once. I hear your stilted intake of air. My fingers are still creeping their way toward your crotch. Without moving you ask, "what are you doing?" followed by, "we're here to watch the game." I know you're not really annoyed that much because when I glance down I can already tell you're getting hard. "I know," I say sweetly, "you watch the game all you want, I just want to play a little game too." By now I have found my way to the sweet inner sanctum of your legs. You have a wonderful cock and today it's resting in the perfect spot, running down along your inner left thigh. I rub it lightly through the fabric of your jeans and watch it start to expand before my eyes. Fully erect, you have one of the most beautiful cocks I've ever experienced. It's just a little more than average length but thick in girth, with only a slight upward curve and a lovely mushroom cap. The first time I ever took it in my mouth I had a hard time stretching my lips around it. For a few moments you indulge me but before too long, you tell me I need to behave myself and gently nudge me away, except you can't quite keep the corners of your mouth from turning upwards. I ignore your pretend discouragement but sit back in my seat, using my right hand now to stroke from the seam of your crotch across the entire length of your cock. It's no longer in my view but as I run my palm back and forth over the top of it I close my eyes and imagine it getting more and more excited as you do. It's quite hard under my hand now and easily defined. I imagine the silhouette it is creating under your pants right now; the dip between the shaft and your balls, the ridge under the cap and the soft peak of the tip before the smoothness of your thigh. I glance down so I can see it. I can't help but rub a little harder and a little quicker as I do so. I never really realized before what a turn on it was to see you fully clothed and turned on, even more so while I'm stroking you. I bite back another grin, breathing a little deeper myself. I can feel my own panties starting to dampen as my vagina tightens. I look into your face, still in profile and see that you are no longer watching the game. Your eyes are shut. I reach across with my free left hand and take your right hand in it. Without losing pace I place your hand at the base of your cock and motion you to start with me. You easily join and I remove my own hands. I want to watch you stroking yourself over top of your jeans, and the cotton boxers I know you're wearing. I'm nearly drooling at the sight of the bulge beneath your pants now. I've started rocking in my seat, pushing my hips forward and clenching my ass together, letting my pussy get a little stimulation from the movement. I refuse to touch myself, I don't want any distractions from your show. You are now moaning and grunting just a little under your breath. Your thumb and fingers expertly running up and down your length, no longer just rubbing the top of your cock but now jerking off. A small spot of pre-cum appears half-way down your thigh where the head of your penis lies as you pull upward. I've never seen anything quite as sexy before. I want more. But then suddenly you stop. You take a deep breath in through your nose, licking your lips. You wipe the palms of your hands (sweaty I guess)on either one of your knees. "I can't keep this up Babe," you say, looking at me, "I'll cum if I do." "What's wrong with that," I ask, a little pout in my voice. "You want me to whip it out right here for you?" You have a sarcastic edge to your voice. "No, I suppose not," I shrug, sitting back. I don't plan to give up but I can wait a minute, until I think up a plan. The heat between my own legs is almost uncomfortable now. I can't help but discreetly run a fingertip along my own denim inseam. It's damp. Without giving it much thought, I sniff the musty aroma after. Out of the corner of my eye, I see you watching me. I turn toward you, a soft smile on my face. You lower your gaze back toward your cock. Suddenly I don't need a plan, I've inadvertently changed your mind. I can see your cock pulsing now. You reach down to undo your belt, or maybe your zipper, but I stop you. Without a single word, I press my fingertip into the wet spot your pre-cum left and lift it to my lips. Then I begin stroking you through your jeans again. You seem a little confused but in too much pleasure to argue you lean back and let me have my way. You likely think I'll free you from your confines soon enough. You're very wrong. I increase my pressure and speed simultaneously. Your hips have begun to rock now too and your jaw twitches with increased pleasure. I lean forward for a better angle and grip your balls, squeezing them gently and rolling them in my grasp. You let out a very audible grunt as I do so. In my excitement, I push further. I have to switch seats to the far side of you so I can undo your fly and reach inside your pants. My fingers are met with the soft, warm fabric of your cotton boxers. They feel a little damp with heat. Now I can watch as my whole hand grasps your cock from beneath the confines of your jeans and continues jerking you off. My fist pumps away and every so often I pull back on the stroke, rubbing the head of your cock against your jeans and pulling the cotton fabric tight over top. It's melodic to hear your groan of pleasure each time. My pussy is pulsating with excitement now. I have to cross my legs just to keep in check. The rest of the ballpark and the game itself have become background music. Another spot of pre-cum works it's way through the denim. I lick my lips. Then your hand is on my wrist, and you're begging me to stop and pull you from your entrapment. You want me to suck you off. Normally I would love to put your rock-hard, juicy cock in my waiting mouth but today feels different. For some reason I have a desperate need to see you shoot your load right here in the stands, in your pants. I want to push you until you can take no more and watch your cum shoot out through the fabric of your boxers and seep its way down your pant leg. I've never felt an urge like this before but the desire for it is unmistakeable and overwhelming. "I can't suck you today, Babe," I say, somewhat breathless, "I want to watch it." "Okay," you sound a little desperate yourself, "okay! Just pull it out and you can see all of it. I'm going to cum just for you...God Babe, I'm going to cum!" I bite my lip harder. If I wasn't so incredibly turned on at the thought of seeing that giant wet spot on your leg, I'd follow your request but something in me just can't obey. I ignore your pleading. "Do you like how the fabric feels?" I ask. "Is it good?" "Oh God, it's fucking awesome," you breath, squeezing your eyes shut tight, wincing against the urge to let go. "How good is it?" I ask, prodding you. "It's the best damn thing I've ever felt," you pant, "I can't tell you. It feels so good with you jerking me off." "Good," I try to sound reassuring, "because I'm not going to pull it out Babe." I watch your reaction. You're right on the brink now. Your grasping the arm of your seat with one hand, your other clutching the middle of your shirt. Your hips are now squirming wildly in your chair and your head is leaned right back but a look of panic crosses your face as you hear my words. You can hardly look in my direction but in between breaths you open your eyes and glance toward me. "What are you talking about? I need you to pull it out. I'm going to cum!" You're struggling to keep your voice low. Even as you say the words, you're reaching for your belt. I use my free hand to stop you, placing it over top of the one working on your belt. You keep working for a moment but you're so close to orgasm now that it's difficult for you to concentrate and you give up without a fight. "shh," I murmur, "isn't that cotton nice? I can tell you have a big load in there for me." "I do," you grunt. "I want to see it Babe," I say, "I want to watch you soak those jeans in cum for me." I'm now stroking you with my right hand and simultaneously rubbing my own crotch lightly with my left. I've never been more grateful to be in the nose bleed section. I continue rubbing your shaft, sliding your cotton boxers up and down. I can feel the heat from the friction and use my free hand to gently pull down on your balls again from outside your jeans. You grunt again. I can tell your close, I can feel the veins of your cock pulsing beneath my fingers and the skin is so tight now. I stroke as fast and hard as I can, listening for your reactions. Your breathing is increasing. You can't sit still at all anymore. With one final stroke, I pull down again on your balls and stroke forward, pressing the head of your cock tightly into the cotton of your boxers, and consequently also into the stiffer fabric of your jeans. That is all it takes. In a wild eruption you lurch forward, your cum shooting out, not just soaking through your boxers and jeans but bursting through before weeping into a dark circle. I stroke gently while you empty your load right into your pants. I can feel my own juices dripping slightly down my inner thigh. I've never been so turned on in my life. You cum in three large spurts. Both an impressive and obvious amount. When I have finished milking it from you I slowly remove my hand. You are breathless when you lean back. Your legs are spread and you turn your face lazily toward me. I wait for you to say something but words are still beyond you. I have the urge to celebrate what you've done, so I lean forward, sticking my fingers in the wettest spot, right where your semen first appeared, and where it maintains it's thick, creamy white. I scoop the blob up with two fingers and place them in my mouth. Your gaze travels to where they were on your jeans. You look satisfied as you feel the wetness with your own fingers. Your face lulls back towards mine. I smile, I can't help it. The loudspeaker blares music as the innings change over. Somehow the 6th inning seemed to fly by. "You were right," I giggle. "Hmm?" "It was easier to catch balls up here," I laugh.

_[Author's Note: A bit of a post-modern lark, this one; or maybe not? The feedback is entirely fictitious. In the real world, comments are still welcome and appreciated.]_ Alexa drained the last dregs of her morning coffee, almost grateful now to be alive, if not perhaps to be awake, and sat down to check her email. She was greeted with the usual barrage of three-day-only coupons from the Book Barn, political updates from dying newspapers in cities she had never been to, and replicas of the bills sadly piled up next to her grandmother's jar of seashells on the table beside the door. Though not a matter of daily habit, she decided to check her university email account too, in case any of her presently AWOL friends had tried to catch up. There were only the endless formulaic "urgent updates" about theatre performances, free doughnuts outside the Dean's office, and the other usual junk. The sheer daily volume of such was alone a deterrent against checking her inbox; now, having passed several days without logging in, she had to busily delete dozens of messages. It was then that Alexa remembered that she had a new account that might be in need of a log-on. Alexa had recently decided to put to use some of the dim talents awakened in her fall Creative Writing course by trying out some composition on her lap- top. Back in the fall, she had even thought for a few weeks that she was becoming quite the little literati. At least, until she found out that the department's rising star poetess, Sheila, had succeeded in bedding both of the professors (a man and a woman) who had co-taught the course. Alexa had rather imagined that feat as a kind of literary seal of approval, like winning the Booker Prize. She began to think, round the middle of October, that her Alexandrine couplets could earn her that distinction. Professor Meryton had given her such searching looks, as though trying to find the Laura hidden within the brazen Petrarchan accents of Alexa's loveridden verse. Renaissance sonneteers were Meryton's specialty, and while Alexa knew not a damn thing about them, she did scan a few of Sydney's sonnets hoping to score a chat-up line or two. And as for Braunmauer, the Poet in Residence, well: he was supposed to be an easy bag. Alexa figured she'd concentrate on leading Meryton around first. But alas, twas not to be. Slutty, gothy Sheila carried the day. She and all her dramatic airs. Her one-act play, "Doomsayers' Dilemma" was staged at the end of spring term. Were the peels of booing just recompense for her prior unearned accolades and blazing trail of sexual conquest? Hardly. But all that was past. Alexa meanwhile wanted to write for real. And so she had set out, with some unease but a grim determination, to write herself some Raymond Carver-esque marvels. Strong, severe stories of domestic alienation with the furtive intimation of transcendence. And what she brought forth from the busy endeavor of her pen was-- Smut. Filthy degenerate fantasies. Couples and threesomes. Guys and girls, guys with guys. Hard, unflagging cocks. Cunts-- did she just use that word?-- perpetually slick and waiting. Firm nubile tits, some adorned with titanium studs or heavy, hanging rings. Tough, dykey girls with potty mouths and pierced lips, wanting to get her-- was it her?-- dirty. Telling Alexa--no, wait, Audrey, or maybe-- to pop out her own lily-white breasts, make them nipples hard. Tug her out of her modest-rise jeans. Leaving her exposed, cornered, not looking for escape. Hard unforgiving hands, male and female, grabbing hold of her bottom. Spreading her cheeks open-- for what? Mauling her soft flesh. Spanking her-- that is, Alicia or Mary or Harriet or somebody--ouch! What was that f--"Shut the fuck up, bitch. I got something I can put that mouth of yours to use on...." Alexa crossed a hand over her chest and gave her breast an appreciative feel. Just because.... In the end, Alexa had decided to post a few of these original compositions on a website, one that already groaned with quite a number of similar titles to choose from. Some of these she read from time to time, for purposes of research and-- well, knowing what the competition was up to was always vital in creative literary matters.... One of the perks of membership was that the community of writers and readers could contact her with anonymous feedback and advice, if so moved. Or, you know, whatever. Hardly did she expect to hear any such thing. Probably the account would stay empty, except for the occasional piece of spam to cobweb up the place. But it wouldn't hurt to check in. Much to Alexa's surprise, she had already a number of comments in her inbox. Whatever could they be about? She scrolled down to open the oldest first. It read: _To: Sugarwallsflirtbox_ Hi. Loved ur story Clitin tha Hood. Moor pleaz. Good job bu the next one she shood be fucked by the dad. This was a bit curious. What did this person mean by "fucked by the dad"? The heroine of "Clitin tha Hood", Harriet Bunnsman, did indeed have a father-- this father was casually mentioned and then dropped in the third paragraph where he's having a Chinese lunch with Harriet before that afternoon when Harriet discovers the excitement of prostitution in the stacks at the vaguely "ghetto" public library where she drops off her hardcover Proust set as a charitable donation. But the father wasn't really a "character", and Alexa had no intention of bringing him back. In fact, there was no sequel planned for that adventure. The second email in line made no allusion to the father character, but was similarly interested in a "Clitin tha Hood" followup: _Dear Sugarwallsflirtbox,_ Oooo, I've just found my library card, sweet Sugarflirt. When next I come in for a checkout, I'm gonna be lookin fir yur stacked-up body in the hall, wearin those anal beads up that tight prim slutfuck skirt, seein that string dangling I'm gonna yank you ovar n bend you over the table and push that skirt up and let them see what a nasty slutfuckshitwhore you are. I tape your printout story to your bare titties n make you walk up and down the libery, tell them you're a nasty little whore, beads poppin out ur ass. Luv, Christian Whew! Well, thought Alexa, maybe I should outline a follow-up chapter, clenching her thighs meanwhile under the table in a little tremor of excitement. Those anal beads _were_ a nice touch, she decided. The idea of wearing them around in public was quite extreme, yet somehow, as Christian had fathomed, rather brash and exciting. The string on Alexa's own pair was rather long; if she were to wear it in such a way, it could be a problem to conceal if you weren't taking precautions. Which, she reminded herself, she totally _would_ be taking if she were to ever-- but no, that's a crazy idea.... She opened another piece of feedback. This one read: _Dear Sugarwallsflirtbox or, if I may, Mary--_ Have you ever walked the Tuileries as the last pale cast of twilight bronzed the lustrous gray armour of banished Day sinking into his erotic exile of Night? I did once, in the company of an Italian courtesan-- okay, she was a two-bit Milanese hooker, but still, she had read Dante in school, they do that there still in Italy, part of the legacy of Mussolini's not completely unenlightened rule from which we could all still learn a lot. And though I did, later, fuck her in the upscale youth hostel I was then staying in, and though I did too contract herpes from her (since marvelously contained--such are the miracles of modern science, borne from the mind of Aristotle) the thing she most infected me with was a desire, perpetually haunting, ineluctable and only nominally contained, for the company of a jeune fille with whom I could explore the joys of Bach, Theodor Adorno and tit-fucking. I think you could be the one.... Full disclosure: I am 34 and unemployed. I have some money, I'll come into more tho when my dad dies. You are a poet, I know you prize honesty above health and wealth and all the bourgeois notions of comfort and decency. In truth, "Mary Pops Her Titfuck Cherry" had said some rather scornful things about middle-class proprieties, never mind whether Mary's cum-soaked pledge week represented a symbolic assault on patriarchal notions of mammarian decorum. Still, Alexa hardly imagined her story as some full-blown social critique. Instead, she imagined Mary now, running through the shadowed gardens, naked but for the scant "Meet the Blowjob Queen" bib, dollops of come gleaming on her boobs and belly, and saw too in her mind's eye this handsome devil of a thirty-four year old, naked, his jutting cock stabbing the evening air like an outcropping of rock, catching the flying Alexa-- no, Mary-- as she tried to pass, heaving her up by her sweaty hips and pulling her core down onto that impaling, unemployed cock. Alexa reached between her thighs, cupping a hand over her crotch through the warm spandex of her leggings. A bit moist down there. Another email. This one read: _God story but harriet should fuck her dad in next one thatd be hottur_ Hmm, thought Alexa. Was it really assumed that if a character has a parent, that means the parent will become a sex partner? Maybe she should start prefacing the stories with non-incest disclosures? _Hi you write really great. Just wanted to say so. Your story made my day go by better. Yrs J_ "Ahhhh, that's so sweet!" Alexa cried out delightedly. She rubbed her palms over her C-cup breasts, it seemed the thing to do somehow. Feedback could be exciting! She decided, in honor of her unseen admirer, to heft her boobs up as an imaginary offering at the screen. Her nipples perked invitingly. "Ooooh, Jay baby, you want me to lick my nipple for you. Will that turn you on, gentle reader?" she cooed. Enjoying herself, and with more messages ahead, she chose to take off her shirt. Naughty feedback, she decided, deserves a naughty, topless girl. _Hmm. You intrigue me, Sugarwallsflirtbox._ You seem to appreciate a hardedged, butch sensibility. Witness the way you described the vaginal fisting in "Harriet Takes a Holiday." I luved what you did with the crophaired Spanish dyke, it wasn't at all frilly rose-colored pajamas stuff and I really appreciate that. But then, you seem awfully fond of hard cock? Or is that just hard silicone. _Or maybe you're just a Greek island hermaphrodite pensioner, who can say._ Or maybe I'm the Greek island pensioner? Haha Oh mysteries! thought Alexa. The next email: _Hi me again. Sorry I'm not a greek pensioner. Didn't mean to be mysterious. Not a hermaphrodite either. Is that fortunate? Well one can hope._ I am a lesbian woman and yes, you make me nervous to write this! Really you write so well, I feel like I know you but I don't and of course I shouldn't carry on but your work makes me feel really sexy and-- Alexa stole her hand beneath her leggings. _since I kinda share some of your kinks I feel like you're a kindred soul in a way._ I do love cunt fisting. Not that I get to do it every day. My guess is that you've done it too, but maybe you're just using your imagination. It's silly but if you need to explore I'd love to help. --Erin "Erin, you want to put that whole hand inside my hot wet sugar snatch, I don't think so girl!" cried Alexa brattily, as she snaked her middle finger inside her moist channel. She grinned lasciviously at the screen, opened her mouth and waggled her tongue. Her thumb slowly diddled her attentive clit. "But maybe," she said softly, "I should explore more? You want to bring fiction to fact, Erin, is that it baby? Ooo, ladyfingers know how to be gentle, don't they?... " She added a second finger inside. _Do you have nipple clamps?_ the next message asked. "Fuck yeah I do!" a zealous Alexa replied. Not bothering to continue, she pulled out her finger and got up, running to her bedroom to fetch a couple of things. She returned a few moments later to the waiting screen, bearing a pair of clover-style clamps and a bright blue dildo with a little bottle of lube. She set the toy cock and the lube beside the computer on the table and, already anticipating what was to follow, fitted one of the clamps over her erect brown nubbin. She continued to read: _Then why not wear them in honor of a fan? Perhaps I might be something more than that-- perhaps what you need is a Master._ Put them on now. I want you to put them on from now on before you check your email account. I want you to be clamped and excited when you read future messages from me. I anticipate that there are other fans of your work who may benefit from this new ritual of yours as well. So be it: they are of no real concern. They may very well be writing some rather naughty things to you-- "Oh you've got that right!" affirmed Alexa. Groaning softly, she fitted the other clamp onto her free nipple, the heavy chain swinging meaningfully as it tugged down on her imprisoned buds. _but we won't let that distract you. Certainly you are never to allow yourself to cum when reading any of their naughty missives, no matter how much they might turn you on. That would be a very bad habit, one into which I hope you have not already fallen._ Lucky me, Alexa thought to herself, I hadn't already made myself come! _As a naughty young woman, we both know you are prey to many bad habits. Fortunately your wicked little tales have brought you to my attention; now that you have it, you can be sure I will not soon be letting you off the hook._ Alexa paused in her reading to apply some lube to the quivering jelly dildo. She scrunched her shiny leggings down around her knees and felt the hard wood of the chair on her bare thighs and butt. _No, I can see you need some serious tending-to and I intend to give it to you, hard._ Time for this! Alexa thought, as she reached for her dildo. Her eyes stared into the wall in front of her, past the screen, as she held the slick toy and placed it before her opening. She lifted her hips off the seat and fitted them over the cockhead, parting her. She ground her pelvis around, enjoying the smooth girth of the toy as it penetrated her. She eased down on it till the whole of the toy was snugly inside. Smiling, she tightened her sugar walls as she sighed in contentment, stretching her arms above her head and rocking around on the fullness. _That's how you like it, right? I mean Alicia, down on all fours with that biker gang, those tattooed criminals taking turns in front and in back. Even that little dyke sidekick of theirs getting in on it, opening you up with her strap-on while you sucked on a guy who was getting his ass reamed by another biker? Enjoy imagining such scenes, do you?_ "Yes," she answered guiltily. _Or Harriet with the Britannica volumes (X, T, and C, you little comedian?) propping her ass up on the table while the bitchy librarian eats out her little pierced pussy?_ Wow! thought Alexa, did I really write that? Got a little carried away.... _You enjoyed that sneering lesborian eating out your fresh little fetishized cunt? Of course you did._ Strange, the gift her Master had of making it sound so real! As though it truly had happened.... Alexa thumbed her clit with determination now. Her shimmies shook the clamps, rocking her pinched nipples with delightful little quakes of pain. _And poor little cocksucker Mary with her diet of cum. Poor baby won't starve though, not with all those fratboy cocks she takes on, sailor cocks, rugby team cocks, especially if she makes sure to wipe up all that jiz on her DD boobs with her dirty little fingers and lick it all down. Cum in her twat, oozing out of her sore little ass. Maybe her fresh-fucked sorority sisters have kept some for her too inside their greedy sore little snatches. Spread it around from tongue to tongue. So many ways to eat cum, and she has to try them all, doctor's orders. She won't forget now, will she?_ "Fuck no, not if I can help it!!!" Alexa cried out, grasping one of her boobs roughly and thrumming the imprisoned nipple, ripe to bursting. She waggled herself on the rubber cock inside her, rocking with abandon as it moved with her. Squinting her eyes shut, she jerked up and down, letting the dildo fuck her in short rocking thrusts as her thumb and finger stroked the taut button of her clit. She moaned in a greedy little sing-song way, "Fuck yeah baby give me all your come I'll swallow it all baby you and all your friends whatever you want baby give me all that hard cock now yeah...." all the while as a bounteous orgasm writhed its way through her wriggling, sweat-sheened body. Carefully she freed her punished nipples from the clamps and set them aside. Breathing deeply, she rubbed carefully at the sensitized nubs, feeling pain but also awkward little spasms of new arousal. She eased herself off the dildo too, and left to wash it up and return it to its resting place. Her leggings restored to her waist but otherwise somewhat bedraggled, Alexa poured a glass of cold water and drank it down eagerly at the open refrigerator. Ready to return to earth, she was uneasy nonetheless that she had left her fanmail unfinished. She returned to her seat and took up where she had left off. _Noooooo, we won't let Mary forget. Not with a couple of greedy cum-whores like us to keep her on her toes!_ Alexa's eyes brightened with curiosity. _I am, you see, in a biker gang. I'm a dominant bisexual. I can make your dreams come true._ "My dreams?" cried Alexa aloud. "But what dreams?" _I have read all your stories repeatedly, and I KNOW that I am meant for you. I love piercings, I love to fist cunts. Nobody can fist your pierced cunt better than I can._ "But I'm not pierced!" Alexa protested at the screen. _We deal Ecstasy, I can supply you with all the X you want. I live on a Greek island, it's just like Ibiza here, beautiful. You will love it._ "But I hate the sun. And I've never even tried--" _I'm a pensioner, can you believe it? I know, we're destroying the Eurozone but fuck it, I was a librarian, I retired at 32. Now we have orgies, all the partners you want, men women whatever. Everything you desire._ "But I really don't want that--" _But you must obey me without question. Already I am in a fury to punish you. I have written you now seven times._ "Seven... Times?..." said Alexa, a shock of understanding sparking in her mind. _I do not want to wait. I need you to do what I tell you. Have you not been told I want you to write the incest story for Harriet?_ We all have our issues. I was born on the isle of Lesbos, the daughter of a whore and a blind shipping tycoon. We were outcasts and poor, and since that time I have dreamed of my revenge. I am Irina Elektra Christianopoulous, and I want to split that man open with my strap-on. Write it for Harriet! Write me "Harriet the Father-Fucker"! And now you will come to me in Lesbos and you will be my biker-bride. We will burn down the Parthenon in the name of Revolution and you will drink all the come of my comrades! Together we will.... "Oh... My... Gawd!" drawled Alexa in disbelief. "And it just goes on like this?" she added incredulously, as she scrolled down what seemed to be an endless screed, every fantasy scenario in her (completely fictitious, more or less) stories now realized in her admirer's eyes, along with many variations, mingling sex, Leftism, and various personal problems in wild profusion. The email finally came to a conclusion with a brief postscript: _ps. But what is with the Stacy character in the Ruth story? Is she "Stacy" or "Stacey"? I no get it. R u playing games with the reader, or is it you just can't edit? Either way I flog you when I get my hands on you._ "In your dreams, bucko!" Alexa said, as she logged off. What a trip! Still, oddly flattering somehow, but-- "I'm not going to Lesbos with Elektra, thank you very much!" she affirmed aloud as she got up and set off to find something productive to do with the day. Maybe research at the library? "After all," she decided as she held up her string of anal beads and eyed them appreciatively, "there's always the matter of this 'J'...." **Villain's Prologue** Okay, I'm thinking to myself,... maybe this part was a mistake. But, I had to make sure she was gonna be there today. There's no use in exposing a perfectly beautiful plan, if the target is going to be taking one of her sick days. She's there, all right. All fresh, and crisp, and classy, like always. I watch her rise from her desk, and step lively around the lobby, talking to her colleagues. Then, she turns on her perky little heels with that white dress wisking around trim, shapely legs. She's all businesslike, and all 'professional', but,... she kinda makes a fella wonder about just how long those legs really are up under that white dress. She's a looker. She's got great eyes, and a fabulous figure. And, she's even easy to talk to. If it weren't for the fact that she's standing between a half-a-million dollars, and me I'd even ask her out, after this is all over. But, I'm guessing, she'd probably say no. Ah, well,... now, she's seen me. But, what the hell,... the plan's in place. Me 'n' the boys pretty much got it all wired. Not much she can do about any of it, even if she does recognize me. Besides, she won't even know anything's amiss until lunch time. There, she's going on about her business again. I pull my fedora down over my eyes. I set about focusing on my own business, too. I head off down the street, out of sight of the Miller Bank Building's main doors. I flip open my cell-phone, and dial a number from a scrap of paper in my vest pocket: "Harris,... she's here. We're on." "Problem, Chief," Harris said. "Gotta technical glitch with Chano's electronic voice scrambler. It's not working." That's not much of a problem, I figure. Chano's not supposed to speak, anyway. It's probably best that he have as little verbal contact with our prospective hostage as possible, knowing how he is. Fact is, he likes pretty girls too much, which plays into my plan. "What about all the other equipment?" I ask. "The A/V works fine, comp links are up and running... hey, wait, Chano wants to talk. Here,..." Chano's accented English crackles through the earpiece: "Hey, what's up, School?" I grimace, and sigh. I'm beginning to hate that "School" stuff from him. Like a lot of young punks, they refer to anyone with an ounce of gray in his hair as "Old School", or "School" for short. Makes it sound like I'm old and infirm. The truth is, I still sling some mean iron at the gym, and still run a dozen miles every week. I'm still built like the point guard that I once was, thirty years ago, and I can hold my own on the court -- and anywhere else, for that matter -- against any of these steroid-heads that hang out at the gym, these days. I swallow that "School" stuff, only because I realize it is supposed to be an address of respect. Because mothers don't teach their children to say, "Sir", anymore. I compose myself: "Chano, you're not even supposed to be around her very much until I say so. Just don't say anything, when we're at the staging area." "Staging area? Oh, you mean the warehouse, yeah, right." It is at this moment that I make the decision: Chano will not be saying anything. He's gonna screw it up, I can feel it. Bless him, Chano has his uses: At 6'3", and 210 lbs., he cuts an extremely intimidating figure. He can get physical, when he needs to, and he's pretty good at it. And, I have to concede this much: It was his baby-faced, smoldering Latin good looks, that got him next to that intern at the bank, which gave me this idea, in the first place. But, Chano's not the sharpest pencil in the box. Thinking on his feet is... a liability. If I could replace him altogether, I would, but we're too far down the road for that. Harris is my tech-expert and I am relying on him to make everything work. Like most tech experts, Harris looks the part: Thin, slightly built, average height, thick glasses. Not a bad looking dude, but he's no GQ poster boy, either. If I were to say he looked like anybody, I'd say it was a grown-up Harry Potter. Then, I chuckle -- his favorite color is brown. How in character is that? But, what Harris brings behind those thick lenses, and large brown eyes, and shock of tousled brown hair is the ability to improvise, and to think quickly, like an engineer. He also brings a fat helping of good old-fashioned greed. I smile to myself, "Greed is good." Harris won't screw it up. With that small adjustment in mind, I know we're ready to go. Ready to get rich. I step around the corner and stride through the alley beside the Miller building. I hop into a rented blue Chevy and fire the ignition. I creep out into the morning rush-hour traffic, just as it begins to die down. The clock on the dashboard says, "9:25 AM". In a little less than three hours, we begin. Six hours after that, I should be winging my way to a nice, comfortable Costa Rican retirement. ********** It was one of those fabulous late summer mornings when every breath that you take lets you know that you are alive. I wake up without the alarm clock feeling quite frisky from the residue of a very kinky little dream that I had had just before opening my eyes. I slip into the shower and train the nozzle on that special place between my legs luxuriating in the sensual stimulation of the water vibrating off my very sensitive and enlarged female nub. The memory of my dream where I was bound and helpless to a captor's whims and fancies brings me quickly to orgasm as my body shimmies to its own private sexual music. As I dry off, I still can feel the energy of desire coursing through my body and wonder what kind of a day is in store for me. It sure started out with a nice bang I think to myself and smile. I slip on a pair of teeny light blue nylon panties that hug me everywhere that they should. I love how they feel to wear under my clothes as they give me, simply by their fit, a constant reminder of sexy. I apply my make up in the bathroom mirror, comb my hair, and decide what else to wear on such a fabulous day. My job requires stockings, which are such a pain, so I comply by wearing my beige lace garter belt with the violet suspender straps and very sheer nude stockings. A matching light blue balconette demi cup bra completes the outfit. My dress fits tight enough to show my bottom off along with my teeny panty lines, but flares out nicely to not show my garters bumps. When I add my tan linen high heels, I feel wonderful. One last check in the mirror confirms my sense of sexy self as I head out the door to catch my bus to work. I am in my early 40's, divorced from a bad marriage and have spent the last 6 years rediscovering myself as well as allowing myself to be sexy again. I hit the gym soon after my divorce and became quite happy with the results as I stand 5'5" in bare feet and am back to wearing a very comfortable size 6. I am not very big on top and thus wear push up bras to enhance the little that I have. My nipples on the other hand are quite perky and very sensitive. Once they become erect they have a tendency to remain stimulated for quite a while just like they still are this morning. My hair is dark brown but has developed a streak of gray that I was initially going to color, but then thought twice about it. It is so distinctive as it forms almost a skunk stripe on the top of my head that it seemed a shame to conceal it. I wear it relatively short, as my ex loved it long, a lingering residue of our relationship. As to my private area, I keep my pubic hair trimmed and short, as it is very thick making it quite painful and difficult to either shave completely or to wax. Oh the things that we do to feel sexy. I walk out of my apartment building into the most glorious light of the early morning sun and head to the nearest bus stop. It arrives on time as usual. I step onto the bus and as I greet my regular bus driver I can tell that the morning sun is silhouetting me in the doorway of the bus as Frank, the driver, stares at me from head to toe and gives out a most complimentary exhale of air. I swipe my bus card giving Frank a big smile walking back to the first seat facing forward in the bus. I have become a consummate flirt and enjoy sitting in a front seat so Frank and I can exchange looks using his inside mirror. Although my dress hangs down past my knees, I give it a bit of a tug northward to allow Frank some peeks at my legs and stockings. He is always so cheerful in the morning and gives me an extra minute or two when I am running late, so I repay the favor by giving him peeks. Today was one of those days that I was in a "mood", a somewhat natural continuation of my morning. By the time the bus got close to my work, my peeks had turned into mini exhibitions of stocking tops, garter snaps, and light blue nylon. Frank certainly enjoyed it, but I do feel that I enjoyed it more. I pull on the stop request cord and as Frank pulls the bus to the curb, I let my legs wander far apart as I gather my laptop case up and rise out of my seat. With a very impish smile directed at Frank along with a wish for a "great day" I head up the block to my place of employment. I can feel his eyes follow me all the way up the block. I work in a large bank downtown as an "banker" which gives me a desk, a chair, and a bit of a cubby hole to sit in as I help customers open checking and savings accounts as well as request certified checks etc. I am also privy to the bank codes, which are used to transfer funds from one bank to the next. I do love the interaction with the customers, although the last few days I have had an unusual looking man requiring my help over very minor things. I almost feel that he is making up reasons to talk to me. He is about 6'1" with a muscular build, who dresses a bit old fashioned but still stylish. He wears his hair short and well cared for, although he usually covers it with what I would call a fedora; one of those style of hats from the 40's gangster movies. He has beautiful ebony skin that almost glows. If he didn't wear such a menacing grimace most of the time, I would consider him quite handsome. I enter the bank through the side door as it doesn't officially open for another 30 minutes and get myself settled into my workstation and log onto the computer system. Once I am all ready to begin my day, I have a chance to look out the front window and there he is, my tall, dark and intriguing stranger looking right back at me. A chill runs through my body, the kind that causes you to shudder from fright but mixes with a slight feeling of sexual excitement. Well, isn't that just like me today i.e. to feel excited over an almost creepy stalker? As the front doors of the bank are unlocked, my stalker disappears and I find myself quite busy for the morning, although the constant rubbing of the fabrics of my under things serve as a wonderful reminder of how sexy I feel today. Lunchtime comes with a blink of an eye and I quickly log off as I have a number of errands to run within walking distance of the bank and want to get an early start. As I rush out the revolving doors my dress doesn't quite fully make it into the small space between compartments and I find myself stuck between the inside and the outside of the bank. My dress is caught between the glass and the rubber edge of the door so as I push forward on the sliding glass my dress becomes more extended behind me until I inadvertently give most of the customers a very nice look of the top of my stockings and my violet suspender straps. I realize that unless I want to also share a view of my teeny light blue panties it would be best to stop pushing forward and attempt to resolve my predicament without further exposure. The bank guard, who also is a subject of my teasing, hits a release button allowing the doors to slide freely resulting in my dress catching up with the rest of me and its hem to resume its place below my knees. I simply shrug my shoulders at the guard adding a big smile and hurry out the doors. As I turn the corner to take a short cut down the alley by our building I feel a strange foreboding pass through me and in a complete contradiction, my nipples become erect again just like they had been most of the morning. What is going on within me today?

A few weeks ago in Late September I went back down into the valley for a little walk and to see if there might be some fun down there. As the fall progresses and the leaves drop off the trees it becomes too easy to see distances through the woods and the activity drops off. On the weekend in question we got one of those great fall days when the weather warms up and the sun is shining. I was happy to see when I got there that most of the leaves were still on the trees and the privacy needed to screen me from view was still in place. There is a spot there I have been going to for years now. It is part way up the hill just above a small pond off the main river and although a bit difficult to get to there is an large concrete block on the ground there that provides a nice place to sit and a view of anyone approaching on the path. The path there dead end a few yards farther along so there is never any traffic past the spot unless it is someone looking for adventure. I got to the block and found it empty so I sat down and watched some of the small birds in the area for a few minutes. One of the nice things about this time of year is that there were no bugs flying around as the recent cold weather had sent them on their way. As I expected within 10 minutes I saw a man walking up the path towards my position. He looked to be in his early 40's and quite trim dressed in Jeans and a windbreaker. I'm in my mid 60's now so there is never any guarantee that someone will want to fool around but I just sat there and waited for him to come by to see what would happen. As he got there we acknowledged each other and mentioned what a wonderful day it was. He asked if I came there very often and I said that I had been there lots over the years but not so much lately. He seemed friendly enough so I asked what brought him into the area. He told me he had been hiking in the valley and was looking for a place to take a piss without offending anyone. I smiled and said it wouldn't offend me and he took out his cock and pissed down the hill away from where I was sitting. As he finished, while still turned away from me he asked me what brought me out there and I said I was just wasting a bit of time, enjoying the weather and seeing if anything interesting came up. While this was going on I could see that he was still playing with himself and the turned towards me so I could see him handling his cock. I smiled as he slowly stroked himself noting he was getting hard and while he was watching me I licked my lips. He turned to face me and from about 3 feet away continued to stroke his cock at which I leaned forward a bit and opened my mouth. Without another word he stepped towards me and I took the end of his cock into my mouth licking all around the head. He put a hand on the back of my head and started thrusting slowly in and out of my mouth. I concentrated on sucking hard on his cock every time he pulled back from me and letting my tongue press the underside of him as he pushed forward. In a few moments I was feeling him push all the way into my mouth and run up against the back of my throat. About then I noticed another guy coming up the path towards us. I'm not very shy about performing in front of another man but I know some people are so I told him about the approach. He seemed to know, like I did that there was little chance anyone climbing up there was doing anything other than what we were doing so he just stayed where he was in front of me. I went back to sucking on him as the new guy approached. About 10 feet from us he stopped having obviously seen us and I saw that he was quite a bit younger, probably in his early 20's. I continued sucking on the cock in my face and it was obvious that he could see what we were up to when he took his own cock out and started playing with it. The guy in my mouth was rock hard now and I could taste the precum leaking out of his cock. He had taken hold of my head with both hands and was stroking in and out of my mouth. I waved the new arrival closer and then putting my hands on the hips of the guy fucking my face I pulled him closer till I felt his cock squeeze into my throat as I buried my nose in his pubic hair. Our watcher had by then climbed up right beside me and the guy in my mouth moaned as I throated his cock. He pulled back again and then slowly pushed his entire cock into my mouth and down my throat. While I held my breath he made little half inch thrusts in my throat holding my head and grunting. I pulled back again to get some air and then knowing he was getting close I once again went down on him till he was buried in my throat. I felt him tense up and then felt his cock start to spasm as he unloaded in me. I pulled back so I could taste his cum and he grunted a few more times as he finished cumming. When he was done he pulled back and took out a Kleenex to wipe off his cock. The other guy without saying a word stepped right in front of me and so I opened my mouth and leaned forward again. He quickly shoved his cock into my mouth and began aggressively fucking my face. I didn't even have time to take him all the way in before I felt his cock start to pulse and he shot another big load of cum into me. I swallowed it all down and he pulled back after probably being in my mouth no more than 30 seconds. The first guy was tucked away by then and the younger one shoved his cock back in his pants and left without uttering a word. The first guy said thanks and left then too leaving me still sitting on the block and wondering if there would be any more action for the afternoon. Anderson walked into his New York apartment a little after one in the morning. Home after another two hours on the air. He started to strip as he walked into the Master Bedroom. It was there that the got the shock of his life. A woman was laying naked on his bed. "Who are you, and how did you get into my apartment," Anderson questioned the slim brunette that was laying on his bed. "I fucked my way up. Your doorman has an excellent tongue," she replied as she ran her fingers up and down her moist slit. "I would like to feel your tongue penetrate me. I bet your tongue is better than his," she squeezed one of her huge tits while her other hand continued to work her slit. "Come here, Anderson baby, lets see what you're made of." Anderson normally would've called security, but she probably had worked her magic on them as well. He had to admit, the woman laying on his bed was very sexy. Her long brown hair fell over her shoulders. Her nails were neatly manicured, and her pussy was completely shaved, the way Anderson liked it. Anderson finished taking off his clothes and walked over to the temptress, and laid down on the bed in between her legs. He worked his tongue up and down each thigh, before making his way to the honey pot in the middle. Christina was excited that she finally had Anderson Cooper where she wanted him. She was going to get knocked up by him. That was her plan. She wanted to have his kids. Yes, that was plural, more than one. She had finally gotten into his bedroom and had him eating her out. Anderson's tongue darted into her hole while his fingers massaged her clit. Then he moved his tongue up to suck her clit while his fingers were pistioning in and out of her cunt. "That's it Anderson, baby, that's it. I'm getting close to cumming, come on baby". Angela worked on her breasts, while Anderson worked on her snatch. She was getting so close, but couldn't get over the edge. Anderson, sensing how close she was, took his free hand, and started playing with her puckered asshole. His finger first danced around the edge, teasing her, and finally penetrated her backdoor. That sent Christina over the edge. "AAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she screamed, "THAT'S IT!!!! I'M CUMMMMMMINNNGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!" Anderson licked up her juices as they flowed out of her. "Oh, God, Anderson. That was incredible. Now let me work that big cock of yours. I want to feel that cock inside me, soon." She pushed Anderson on his back, and watched the little vixen go to work on his shaft. "That's it. Work my cock into that beautiful mouth. Play with my balls" he ordered. He was hoping that if he came in her mouth, he wouldn't have to fuck her. He didn't want to take a chance of getting her pregnant. That's the last thing his career needed. Christina's head bobbed up and down his shaft while Anderson's hands ran through Christina's hair, forcing her down on his shaft. After a few minutes of trying, she finally was able to get all of Anderson's 10 inch cock into her mouth and down her throat. Her tongue worked magic on his shaft, while her hands worked magic on his balls. He was coming already. "THAT'S IT!!! DON'T STOP!! I'M CUMMINNGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! UGH!!! AHHHH!!! TAKE IT ALL!!!! SWALLOW IT ALL!!!!!: Anderson shot his humungous load down the sluts throat. The amazing thing, was Anderson was still hard after all of that. Christina was delighted, but Anderson wasn't too happy. Christina got on all fours and wiggled her ass in front of Anderson. Now Anderson really wanted to fuck her, but didn't want to get her pregnant. He remembered he had condoms in his drawer, and pulled one out and put it on before he entered the sweet cunt of the woman in front of him. "Come on, baby, give me that hard cock," Christina taunted the hunky anchor that was massaging her ass. "Here it comes," he said before he slammed his cock to the hilt inside of Christina. He pumped and pumped and pumped his cock in and out of her. "Take it whore, take my cock in that hot cunt of yours," he cried. "Oh yeah, Anderson, baby. Give me that hot cock of yours, pound my pussy hard." Christina knew he had put on the condom, but had been prepared for that. She had put holes in all of the condoms before Anderson got home. "FUCK ME HARDER!!! FUCK ME HARDER!!!!! FUCK ME!!!! UNHH!!!!" She screamed as Anderson started pounding her harder. "you want it harder, slut, I'll give it to you harder!" Anderson started slamming his cock into her so hard it was pushing into her cervix. "Take it baby, take all of my cock." The dirty words were really turning him on. He started slapping Christina's ass. SLAP! SLAP! "That's what you get... " SLAP! SLAP! "For sneaking into... " SLAP! SLAP! "... my apartment" SLAP! SLAP! "Oh yeah, Anderson. I've been a bad girl. Spank my ass. Punish me." Christina whispered before her orgasm took over. "I'M CUMMING AGAIN!! OH GOD ANDERSON, FUCK ME!!!!!!!!!!! UNNNHHHH!!!!! SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Anderson was close himself, and as her cunt started convulsing around his cock, he lost it. "I'M CUMMINNNG TOO!!!!!!! TAKE IT, WHORE!!! TAKE MY CUM!!!!!!!!" He unloaded another monster load into this whore in front of him. The two collapsed onto the bed, exhausted from the fuck. Anderson stayed on top of her until his softening dick slipped out, then he rolled to his side. "That was incredible". He said looking back at the woman laying next to him. "Who are you?" he asked. "My name is Christina. I came here because I want to be your personal slut, and carry your children. I'm yours now." She rolled over onto her back and rubbed a hand over her stomach. Anderson looked down at the condom on his softening shaft and took it off. "Kind of hard to get pregnant with a condom, " then he noticed the hole. "You thought of everything, didn't you?" "Yep, I did. Please Anderson, let me stay and have your children, and raise your children, and be your personal slut!" she begged. "Okay, you're too incredible of a fuck to pass up. You're my personal whore. It'll be great having someone to fuck whenever I get home." Nine months later Christina gave birth to a baby boy. She and Anderson are still living together and are talking about getting married.

Chapter One Jerilyn stared at the phone as it rang a second time. The caller ID showed her husband's name and since it was almost her bedtime she knew what to expect. When she answered the phone, Antony would start the nightly routine he established almost two years ago and tell her he had to stay at work. Again. It rang a third time and Jerilyn scowled in resentment. Last night when she lay alone in bed, she made herself a promise to not go another day without someone's touch. In the cold light of day she doubted she could go through with it, but if he ignored her one more night... On the fourth ring her thumb hovered over the answer button. She loved her husband and didn't want her marriage to end but she couldn't bear this corrosive loneliness. When he was around, he lavished her with attention, doted on her, made her feel like the center of the universe. But those occasions were so rare they didn't make up for the endless nights alone. Her hand trembled on the fifth ring. She had to answer it now. If he let her down again, it was his problem. It wasn't like he was in the military and sent away because of duty. He chose to stay at work. He chose a nearby hotel or his office over their home, and his career over her. So be it. Jerilyn pushed the answer button. "Hello, Antony." "Hello, sweetheart." Antony sounded tired but happy. "Did I get you out of the shower?" "No." "Good. I hope I didn't interrupt you in the middle of something." "Nope." Like there was anything for her to do while she wasted her life waiting for him. You could only clean an apartment so much. "It just took me a bit longer than normal to answer." She tried to put some enthusiasm into her voice but couldn't manage it. "I can tell you're unhappy with me and I don't blame you." That was Antony's segue into his usual apology and explanation but Jerilyn couldn't listen to it again. "You're not coming home again." It should have been a question but it came out in a depressed monotone. She wanted to weep. Antony sighed and she pictured him rubbing the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. "No, I'm not. I'm sorry, I want to, I really do, but I can't afford the time away from this project, not if I want to make the deadline." "There's a deadline now?" Jerilyn grasped at this new development. Antony never mentioned a deadline before. "Sort of." He sounded evasive and her heart sank. "It's complicated." "Naturally." "I'm sorry, babe. I want to have this done by our anniversary, that's the deadline I'm shooting for. But I can't force the other parties to move on my time line. All I can do is get my side done as fast as possible." Jerilyn went to the calendar. What day was it? Friday? No, Tuesday. It seemed like it should be later in the week. Her schedule never changed which made it easy to lose track of the days. She found the date and what little hope she had, vanished. Their anniversary was almost three months away. Even if he finished his precious project he probably had another one lined up. "I miss you, isn't there any way you can come home, just for the weekend?" "I want to Jeri, I really do." "But you can't." Jerilyn wanted to whine and beg but that would only make them both miserable without changing anything. "I can't." He sounded as unhappy as she felt but it had to be an act. Otherwise, he wouldn't work so much. "Then take care of yourself. Make sure you get enough exercise and eat right. With all the hours you put in you can afford decent food." "I love you, sweetheart. You take care of yourself too." Jerilyn believed he loved her, she just didn't believe he loved her enough. At least not enough for her. "I love you too." She meant it, but she knew she no longer loved him enough either. She ended the call and went to bed. Coming to a decision the night before gave her a measure of peace but she still hadn't been able to sleep. Tonight was shaping up the same way. For the second night in a row, she considered having an affair. She may not be the most beautiful woman in the world, but she also knew she could find a guy easy enough. But the thought of picking up some random guy to have sex with repulsed her. It made her feel like she didn't respect herself plus there was too much danger of disease and pregnancy. She quit taking the pill over a year ago when it became clear Antony wasn't interested in sex anymore. He tried to give her all the attention she wanted, but he was always too tired. So if she didn't want a guy, that left a woman and she had no idea how to seduce a woman. Or even where to find a woman to seduce. The frustrating predicament got her out of bed and had her pacing the apartment. What was wrong with her, anyway? Why did Antony pull away from her? She didn't have a body like the woman living downstairs, but she wasn't repulsive. It never seemed to bother Antony that she barely filled and "a" cup. He said he liked her small breasts, especially when she didn't wear a bra and bent over. He looked down her shirt and saw her nipples, something a big breasted woman couldn't do. The woman downstairs could bend over and no matter what she wore, there was no looking down her shirt and seeing anything but cleavage. What about the woman downstairs? Jerilyn realized she saw people come to her apartment every day, stay for an hour or so then leave. What kind of job did a woman have where men and women came by every day? Perhaps a drug dealer? No, that didn't feel right. All the people coming by looked respectable, not like drug users and the schedule was too consistent. No, it had to be something else. She closed her eyes and tried to picture the people coming and going. They all looked more relaxed when they left. Jerilyn's face split into a wide grin. There was only one possibility, the woman was a professional sex worker. It fit all the evidence. The fact she serviced women solved all her problems. She could go to a professional and get the contact she needed while avoiding all the pitfalls of an affair. Having sex with an expert wasn't like cheating, it was a business transaction. With no emotions involved there wouldn't be any messy repercussions. If someone gave her the physical attention she craved, it should satisfy her long enough to make Antony see reason and come back to her. When he did, she could stop seeing the prostitute and not have to worry about hurt feelings. If Antony didn't come back, well at least she'd still be sane. With her plan formed and perfected Jerilyn finally managed to go to sleep. The next afternoon, after she finished her chores, she took a long bath then took extra time with her make-up and hair. The clothes she picked were easy to get in and out of. No reason to waste time getting undressed. After all, she wanted a service, not a seduction, which is also why she skipped underwear. The point was to get naked and get an orgasm, not to put on a show. When she finished preparing, she looked in the mirror and liked what she saw. It was time to take care of herself for once instead of waiting on a man who wouldn't come home, even on the weekends. She stuffed money in her purse and marched out the door determined to have a long overdue good time. Jerilyn rushed down the stairs and knocked on the door before she gave herself a chance to reconsider. The door opened to an incredibly beautiful woman. "Um, hi." Now that Jerilyn was faced with the reality of her decision, she didn't know what to say. In her fantasies of self gratification she got right to the sex, she had no idea how to initiate this in the real world. "My name is Jerilyn. I'm your upstairs neighbor." "Hello Jerilyn, I'm Rain." She held out a hand to shake with a wide, friendly smile. "I'm glad to meet you." Jerilyn shook the hand, taken a bit off guard. "You can call me Jeri." She always pictured sex workers as hard women with cold, suspicious eyes. Rain's face looked like an open book and her large hazel eyes made her look innocent and maybe even naive. "I've never done anything like this before." "Like what?" Rain pushed her dirty-blond hair over her shoulder and stepped back inviting Jerilyn in. "I've never asked, you know, someone for professional services before." She hurried past Rain to hide her blush. "Oh." Rain sounded a little surprised but didn't seem to care. "How did you find out about me?" "I spend a lot of time people-watching on my balcony and figured it out." Jerilyn looked around the apartment, too nervous to look at Rain. "I usually get clients through word of mouth and wondered who we have in common." Rain had a sweet laugh. "It sounds like you need my services. You're wound way too tight. Don't worry, once I'm done, you'll be so relaxed you won't remember how to walk." "God, I hope so." Jerilyn took a deep breath and finished looking at the apartment, though she couldn't describe a single piece of furniture to save her life. When she faced Rain, she noticed the loose blouse the woman had on. It hung to her knees but the thin fabric clung to her curves. "So how does this work? Do I need to make an appointment?" "Nope. I'm finished with my clients so I can do you now. If you have the time, that is." I've got nothing but time, thought Jerilyn. "Now is perfect." "Go into that room and take off your clothes. You'll find some towels set out on the counter, go ahead and wrap one around yourself. Normally I'd do it in there, but the light is so good out here today I set my equipment up near the window." Equipment? Jerilyn paused half way to the door. "I didn't think you needed equipment." Jerilyn considered changing her mind, she pictured something much more personal and sensual. Then again, the less personal it was, the less like cheating it would be. This was not about a relationship, it was about dealing with her needs. "Perfect. What kind of equipment do you use?" Jerilyn closed the door behind her. A few chests of drawers lined the walls but other than that it was empty. She always imagined a prostitutes bedroom being more romantic or at least having a bed. Rain answered her while Jerilyn stripped. The words were muffled by the door so Jerilyn had no idea what she said. Did she say sable? Or maybe it was label. Label made more sense, maybe she said something about brand labels. She set her clothes on a counter then wrapped herself in a towel. When Jerilyn came out Rain was tugging a snug t-shirt into place. "Mostly, though, I have all my oils out here." Rain had a body like a gymnast. She looked like... hell, Jerilyn saw bikini models who looked less perfect than Rain did, and they were photoshopped! "The rest is handwork." Well, that answered how she would make Jerilyn come. Lubrication made sense, Jerilyn didn't feel very excited, the whole situation felt too awkward. Rain turned to face Jerilyn. The woman had boobs like nobodies business which made her instantly jealous. Jerilyn barely filled an "a" cup and this woman... they had to be fake, which made Jerilyn feel a little better. She could have breasts that big if she wanted to pay for them. Jerilyn chastised herself for being so bitchy. Of course the woman had big breasts, her body was her job. Hell, she should be happy, she was about to take advantage of the woman's body. "Now what?" Jerilyn's mouth went dry. She struggled to erase all thoughts of her upbringing from her mind. All those lessons about loyalty and fidelity and same sex prejudices screamed that this was wrong. To hell with that. Her parents drove her sister away with their puritanical strictness and she wasn't far behind. Getting away from them was half the reason she married so young. She squared her shoulders and marched across the room. She intended to do this and damn it, she meant to enjoy it. "Climb on the table and lay on your stomach." Rain patted the table she stood next too. "Table?" That's what she said, table, not label. "Won't that be uncomfortable?" "Nope. It's made just for this purpose. Now hop on and I'll take care of you." "Shouldn't we, you know, kiss or something?" Rain blinked a couple of times, pursed her lips and tilted her head. "Did you say kiss?" "Um, maybe." Jerilyn felt herself go crimson. This was such a bad idea. "I told you, I've never done this before. All I know about it is what I've seen on tv. Can you explain what's going to happen?" Rain looked blank, like this never happened. Jerilyn considered leaving before she humiliated herself even more. Then Rain shrugged. "It's not complicated. You get on the table and I oil up my hands and start rubbing." "No foreplay?" She saw that working on men, but every woman she ever talked to complained they never got enough foreplay. "Foreplay?" Rain's head jerked back. "What does foreplay have to do with anything?" "Isn't it part of the job?" "Not in this state, and even if it was, I don't do that." "You don't? Aren't you a... you know. A... prostitute?" Jerilyn whispered the last word, like it was a dangerous secret. "No." Rain drew the word out as her lips twitched. "I'm a masseuse. I also read cards and do henna tattoos." "Oh my god." Jerilyn swayed as the blood drained from her head. She steadied herself with a hand on the table while she covered her mouth with the other. This humiliation was Gods punishment for breaking her vows. "A masseuse." What did Rain think of her? Not only did she call this woman a prostitute, she called them both lesbians. This was beyond endurable. Jerilyn bolted for the door. As Jerilyn stepped through the door, she saw Rain come for her. "Jeri, wait! It's all-." Jerilyn slammed the door shut on Rain's words and ran for the stairs. She took a step when the towel was ripped off her body. It was stuck in the door. Oh god, she was naked in public! She shoved one hand between her legs and covered her breasts with her arm. She agonized which hand to use to grab the towel when she saw the doorknob turn. Rain was coming. With a tiny little shriek Jerilyn abandoned all modesty and ran. As she pounded up the stairs, her tiny breasts bounced on her chest. They were so small she almost never felt them do that. For a brief moment she found herself aroused by being naked outside and feeling her breasts move. Then reality crashed back down and she doubled her efforts to get back to her apartment. She reached her floor and ran for her door, the last on the right. Jerilyn grabbed the doorknob. It was locked. "Oh fuck!" Jeri's mind blanked. Her keys were back in the apartment of a masseuse she just called a lesbian hooker. She twisted the doorknob with all her strength, trying to break it. She heard someone come up the stairs and froze, staring at her traitorous door. "Here, put this on." Rain held up a robe like a gentleman holding a lady's coat. Jerilyn felt tears of shame and humiliation slide down her cheeks as she slid her arms in the sleeves. A couple of those tears were of gratitude. "It's ok." Rain sounded like she was trying not to laugh. "Take a deep breath and try to relax." "I'm sorry." Jerilyn barely got the words past the lump in her throat. "It's all good, honey." This time Rain didn't smother her giggle. "Lets get back to my place and I'll fix you a drink. What do you want, tea or wine?" "Scotch." "I've got that too." Rain led Jerilyn back to her apartment and placed her on the couch. "You sit there and I'll get you that drink." "I have never been so humiliated in my life." Grateful, Jerilyn accepted the drink and gulped it down. "You want another?" Jerilyn closed here eyes and bowed her head. "Yes, please." A few seconds later Rain poured more scotch into the empty glass. "You might want to take it a bit slower with this one." Rain sat on the couch next to her but far enough away to give Jerilyn space. "Thank you." Jerilyn sipped the scotch, feeling the alcohol warm her stomach. "Let me get this straight. You saw people come and go from my apartment and decided I was a sex worker." Jerilyn looked at Rain expecting to see insult but Rain's eyes danced with mirth. "My mother would be intrigued." "Intrigued? Not shamed or angry?" "Look around. I'm a third generation hippy. My mom would want to know how taking money for sex was following my bliss." Jerilyn did look around, finally seeing the place. New Age decorations mixed with modern conveniences. It didn't look like a place designed for seduction and anonymous sex. All in all, it felt homey and comfortable. "I grew up with the free love mentality. My family would find it troubling if I charged for something they raised me to give away." Rain radiated amusement and sipped her drink while she studied Jerilyn. "You don't seem offended. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad." Jerilyn sighed, relieved that her hands stopped shaking. "Most women would have left me naked outside and figured I got what I deserved." "You know way too many women who have no sense of humor. What has me curious is why you came here looking for a prostitute." "I, um." Jerilyn had no idea how to respond. "Obviously you wanted sex." Rain put her feet on the coffee table and looked way too relaxed. "Are you gay or curious?" "No!" Jerilyn spat out a reflexive denial then forced herself to relax. "Sorry. Sometimes my upbringing makes me rude. I don't think I'm gay and curiosity isn't it either. Frankly, I didn't think it through. It's been a long time since I've been touched and sex with a woman seemed less like cheating on my husband." Jerilyn moaned and covered her face with her free hand. "I'm so pathetic." "Nope, not pathetic, just lonely." Rain downed the rest of her drink and stood up. "I'm glad you think so. I doubt I'll ever be able to look at myself again." "Don't be silly. I'm a third generation hippy, remember? I was raised to believe people's feelings are never pathetic." She took Jeri's empty glass and set it on the table then held out a hand to help Jerilyn to her feet. "Now, if it's being touched you want, I can help." Jerilyn stared at the proffered hand. "Um, I'm not in the mood." Rain threw back her head and laughed a full bodied laugh that reminded Jerilyn of crystal chimes. "I didn't mean sex, silly. I'm a masseuse. Let me give you a massage. It'll help relax you." "I don't think it will." "I'll get you another towel. I'm a professional, think of me as a doctor." "I don't want another towel. Ever." "You're being silly." Rain grabbed Jeri's hand and hauled her to her feet. "You can leave the robe on if it makes you feel better. The massage won't be as good, but I think you'll still benefit." "No, I'm... " Jerilyn balanced on the edge of rejecting Rain's offer but realized she didn't have a reason to. Rain offered a massage, but nothing about her manner suggested the offer included girl-girl sex. Maybe Jerilyn still had a chance to get the contact she craved. After all, nothing changed with her situation. The only deference between now and an hour ago was the knowledge that Rain wasn't a prostitute. "It's because I saw you naked, isn't it?" Rain interrupted Jeri's thoughts and she forgot what they were talking about. "What?" "You don't want to get a massage because you feel vulnerable because I saw you naked." "No, that's not-." "Will it make you feel better if I'm naked too?" Getting massaged by a naked woman? Jerilyn didn't imagine being touched and rubbed and kneaded by a nude woman could be relaxing. Then again, didn't she come down here to get touched and rubbed by a naked woman? What the hell, if Rain offered, why not? "That might help." "Good. You can go get another towel, if you want." Rain pulled her shirt over her head revealing her breasts. Jerilyn was no expert but if she had to guess, those breasts were perfect. And real, damn her. No one should be built like that without surgery. It wasn't fair to the rest of their gender. "I'll skip on the towel. They didn't help me when I needed them." Jerilyn fingered the belt on her borrowed robe. What the hell, Rain already saw her naked. When she left her home she intended to take this step anyway. She slid the robe off and tossed it on the couch then lay on the table's padded surface. Jerilyn heard Rain's leggings hit the floor then Rain moaned. "It always feels nice to stretch after you take your clothes off." A few seconds later Rain's expert hands rubbed the tension out of Jerilyn. Even though the massage wasn't sexual, it had a sensual aspect to it. Rain's oil slick hands rubbed across Jerilyn's skin in a way that made her feel pampered and cared for. Despite the traumatic and humiliating evening, Rain's touch was the most sexual sensation she had in years. Jerilyn felt herself moisten. She'd do something about it later. For now, she enjoyed the massage too much to interrupt it. It didn't take long for the tension to seep away and her mind drifted into a peace she hadn't experienced in far too long. "Did I fall asleep?" She pushed herself up on her elbows and stifled a yawn. Rain sat cross legged and naked on the couch studying tarot cards spread on the coffee table. "Yup." Rain looked up when Jerilyn spoke. "Good morning, sleepy head." She lifted the robe off the couch. "You want this?" "No." Jerilyn surprised herself, her parents drilled modesty into her for as long as she remembered. For some reason it felt comfortable to be nude. At least around Rain. "How long was I out?" "Twenty minutes. Usually I don't let my clients fall asleep but you looked like you needed it." "I feel wonderful." Jerilyn climbed off the table and stretched, feeling alive and relaxed for the first time in longer than she could remember. Walking to the couch naked felt brazen and sensuous. Energy filled her so she was relaxed and energized at the same time. It reminded her of the first time she made love with Antony. Plus, being around Rain, who definitely wasn't shy, made it easier. She noticed Rain staring at her as she navigated the furniture in the room. In order to make room for the massage table Rain had to crowd her other furniture together. Rain's eyes glittered with amusement but Jerilyn thought she saw something else in her expression: interest. "What are you doing?" "I thought I'd do a reading on you while you slept." Rain indicated the tarot cards spread out on the coffee table. "What does it say?" Jerilyn sat next to Rain as Rain explained what the cards and their position meant. She sat closer to Rain, not quite invading her personal space but closer than normal. "To make a long story short, you're in for a big change soon and money will play a large part in that change." Rain gathered up the cards and replaced them on her deck. "A big change, hunh?" Jerilyn looked at Rain sidelong and smiled. "That's what the cards say." "Do a reading for yourself, I want to see if you're in for a big change too." Jerilyn bumped her shoulder against Rain's. "I can't do readings for myself." "Why not? Is it some taboo among psychics?" "No, nothing like that. A real reading is part intuition and part psychology." "So you didn't give me a real reading?" "Well... " Rain shrugged. "Yes and no. It's not a complete reading, but I didn't make anything up." "Don't the cards give you the future? What difference does it make who does the reading, the cards are the same." "I don't tell the future, I give perspective. See, you come to a psychic," Rain made air quotes around psychic, "with a problem. Basically, the cards point out aspects of your personality and how you're likely to react. They act as a mirror to your subconscious, it helps point out things you already know deep inside. Say you came to me wondering if you're pregnant. If you are, your body knows it because it's changing. That means, on some level, you'd know you were. You'd draw cards for money, change, hope and happiness. Assuming you wanted the child." "You make it sound like a science." "Believe me, it's not. I have to figure out what the cards mean and translate it to the client. That's where intuition comes in. Even then it's easy to get things wrong. Which is why I can't do readings on myself, I tend to over think and end up confused and exasperated." "Do it anyway. I want to watch." Rain shrugged and shuffled the cards. She dealt them and her brows knit as she laid the first few cards out. "Shouldn't you tell me what each card means as you lay it out?" "Sure, if I was reading for you, but these cards don't make sense." Rain gathered the cards up before she finished laying them out. "I told you, I can't do myself." "You can't do yourself?" A sly grin tugged at Jerilyn's lips and she bumped Rain's shoulder again. "Sounds like you need a friend to take care of that for you." "Are you volunteering?" Rain returned her grin with interest. "I guess it sounds like it, doesn't it?" "Are you flirting with me?" Rain watched her with an appraising expression, like she didn't mind the idea. "No, of course not." Jerilyn wanted to blush at the suggestion but replayed the conversation in her mind and the motives behind what she said. She realized she was flirting and judging by the look on Rain's face, the other woman knew it too. "You don't look like you mind." "You're a beautiful woman, why would I mind?" "Have you been with another woman?" "Kind of." "Kind of?" "I'm a third generation hippy, sex isn't taboo." Rain shrugged like her confession didn't matter. "I kissed a couple of girlfriends in highschool and felt up one on a dare." "What was it like?" Jerilyn leaned in, more intent on the answer than she expected. "Awkward. A lot of tension filled the room. The atmosphere made it weird." "Oh." Jerilyn tried not to sound as disappointed as she felt. She hopped Rain might be a knowledgeable teacher to introduce her into lesbianism. Suddenly their nudity felt awkward. "It's late. I should go." Jerilyn pushed herself off the couch and tried to act as relaxed as if she had clothes on. "I'll go get my clothes." Knowing Rain watched her ass as she walked away gave her a little thrill. Jerilyn threw on her clothes, thankful they were easy to put on. When she walked back out, much to her relief, she saw Rain dressed in the robe she loaned Jerilyn earlier. "How much do I owe you for the massage?" Jerilyn reached into her purse. "Nothing. I enjoyed getting to know you." "Are you sure?" "If you want to pay me back, make me dinner. I don't have many friends around here. An evening of good food and excellent company sounds like a magnificent payment." "I'll bring something down tomorrow when you're finished working. How does that sound? " "Perfect." Jerilyn kissed Rain on her cheek then walked back to her apartment. She took her time on the short walk home, reliving the stark terror and mysterious arousal she experienced the last time she took this rout. She smiled now, seeing the humor and wanted to tell Antony. It would give him a good laugh. Then, with some disappointment, she realized she couldn't tell him. If she did, she would have to confess the reason she went down there. That's when she realized she still wanted to go through with her affair. Tomorrow night she intended to seduce her neighbor.

_Author's Note: This is a cheating wife story. If this offends you or it's not your particular cup of tea, please pass it by._ _\- - - - -_ Taylor pressed her security badge against the electronic panel. She heard the lock click and opened the door into the law firm where she worked. It was just a little past six in the morning and as usual, she was the first one at work. She walked down the short hallway and entered her office. She frowned, noticing that the huge stacks of papers on her desk hadn't magically gotten any smaller since she had left them the night before. _Has my life come to this?_ She had her morning routine down. Get up early, fix a quick breakfast for herself and her husband, drive to the gym and get her morning workout in, and then be at the office no later than six so she could get her small team of paralegals' work lined out for the day. Just like clockwork. _Four mundane years of tedious clockwork._ She criticized herself for letting those negative thoughts enter her mind. She had it all, right? She had a beautiful house, a stylish car, a husband who doted on her and loved her and an amazing career in a small law firm where she was on track to be offered a partnership before she was forty. Outwardly, she was the envy of all her friends, and she had it all. Inwardly, the truth felt much different to her. She was a couple of months shy of her thirtieth birthday and her privileged life that she had spent so many years in college preparing for felt like a prison. She had been such a free spirit from high school through college. She had been a cheerleader in both and a point guard on her high school basketball team. She was an honor student, graduating in the top five percent of her college class and she was immediately accepted into law school once she had her degree. The things she loved, she pursued with a reckless abandon, and the same was true when it came to sex. In high school and college, she had a voracious appetite for carnal pleasures, loving the touch of a man or a woman with equal passion. Amazingly, in high school, she had the reputation of a goodie-two- shoes priss, when the truth was actually quite the opposite. In college, her blonde hair, blue eyes, small athletic frame, curvy round breasts and bottom, made her the envy of many women on campus and stoked the lustful desires of all the men. As she reflected, she felt that the marital relations with her husband had fallen into a stale rut. While their sex life couldn't be described as horrible, it was routine, mundane and passionless. She had endlessly tried to spice things up in their bedroom, in a vain attempts to get their sex life off life support. Taylor had tried toys, lingerie and even erotic literature. She had even made the bold move of suggesting they invite a man, woman, or even a couple to share their bed, but her husband would have none of it. The routine and the mundane appeared to be fine with him and instead of starting a fight and damaging their marriage, he had instead worn her down. With a great deal of sadness, she accepted this unemotional, detached sex as the new 'normal' for their marriage. As she began to complete her work and prepare for the meetings she would have to attend that day, with anticipation she looked at her watch. It was almost eight, only minutes away from the favorite part of her day, the part she had looked forward to for the last few weeks. She looked up and saw them walking in, the paralegals. The first group was always the girls. There were a couple of pretty ones in there that from time to time she liked to admire, but the real show would start any second. She clicked the tip of her heel against the floor, waiting... eagerly... _There he was._ In the middle of the small pack of guys was Ray, the tall, young, African American man that had instantly caught her eye the day he was hired several months ago. Like the rest of them, he wore suit pants or Dockers with a dress shirt and tie, but none of them filled out the front of their trousers like him. Taylor bit her lip, watching out of the corner of her eye, while he casually laughed and joked with his friends as they strolled to their work area past her office. She speculated that he had to be at least 6'2", much taller than her 5'4" frame. He had a bright smile and kind, gentle eyes. Once he had even worn a short sleeve dress shirt and she was surprised to see the bulge of his biceps. He had to be very well muscled she speculated, even though she had nothing concrete to base that on. She watched as the small group migrated over to their cubicles, the object of her desire disappearing from sight. Her mind flashed back a decade to her undergrad years when she lived in the dorm and had a torrid two-month fling with a young black student who also lived in the same residence hall. She loved going back to those memories and reliving them in her mind. She had never contemplated being with a black man until she met him. She remembered how he brazenly sat next to her in her marketing class, talking endlessly about his size, his sexual prowess, and the pleasure he promised to give her if she would only agree to give him one night, one chance. That young man was just a little thuggish but his 'bad boy' persona only made him more appealing. He wasn't much of a student and only seemed to care about being a rapper, smoking pot, and bedding as many white girls as he could. He was arrogant, impudent, and insolent and at first, she couldn't stand to be around him. However, over the course of the semester, he slowly began to wear her down and all of his boisterous braggings had aroused her curiosity about being with a black man. At the end of the semester, she finally agreed to give him that one night, and that one night turned into a three-day long weekend sex marathon. Everything he promised had been true: his size, his sexual prowess and his dominance over her resulted in countless mind-blowing orgasms over the course of those two torrid months. In the end, their tryst, built solely on sex, didn't last and once he tired of her, he moved on to the next pretty blonde girl. Against her better judgment, she had allowed herself to develop some feelings for him, even though she knew that he was never really relationship material. In the end, she just wrote off the experience as the hottest sex she had ever had and vividly remembered it now, as she thought of Ray. A week after Ray had been hired she made some excuse to the HR department to check out his personnel file. Under the auspices of reviewing the new hire's qualifications as a potential candidate for her team, she quickly scanned over his personal information. Ray was 19 and lived in a middle-class neighborhood in Henderson. He was a student athlete and graduated with a very high GPA from Green Valley High School. She knew that he went to a paralegal school in Las Vegas, because for whatever reason, her law firm only hired from that school. She also noted that he had graduated at the top of his class. The next day, she was upset to learn that the managing partner had decided that Ray was to be placed on Brad's team, one of her colleagues. It was probably for the best she thought. She didn't need sexual tension on her team or an excuse to do something stupid like ruin her career by engaging in any type of sexual misconduct with a subordinate. If Ray was kept away from her, then he couldn't tempt her. It was all for the best. It was nearly ten o'clock and Taylor had just come back from a meeting with one of the partners. She had already started back to work when there was a light tap on her open door. She looked up, it was Ray. Instantly, her heart skipped a beat as she looked at his handsome face. "Ms. Jennings, I hate to bother you, but may I ask you a question in this case I'm preparing?" At least once, sometimes twice a week, Ray made an excuse to come to her office and ask her questions about something that he should have been asking his boss Brad. Taylor knew that the proper thing to do was send him away and have him consult with Brad, it was his client after all. However, she never did. Being around this young man was intoxicating and even though she had to act annoyed, she secretly loved spending time with him, even if it was only a minute or two at a time. Aside from him walking in the door in the morning, or a chance passing glance when they walked by each other in the hall, it was her favorite time of the week. "I'm pretty busy with this deposition, why aren't you asking Brad?" she said, in her best faux-aggrieved voice. "He's in a meeting with some clients and I'm supposed to have this paperwork completed by noon. It would mean a lot if you could assist me," he said apologetically. She knew this was just an excuse. He could ask one of the five other people on his team for help but instead, he always found some reason to justify talking to her. "Pull up a chair and show me what you need help with," she said, in her best- annoyed voice. He was only two feet from her and she could barely think as he showed her some numbers to some pointless something that he was working on. As he looked down at the stack of papers he'd brought with him, she looked over his smooth black skin, that manly protruding chin and she could smell that light scent of cologne that would linger in her office for hours after he was gone, reminding her of him. She could feel her thong becoming moist under her skirt, and she knew she'd have to make a trip to a bathroom during lunch to relieve herself of the sexual tension he created in her. She cleared her mind of this intoxicating presence in front of her and answered his questions with a few simple sentences. The ethical thing to do would be to speak to Brad about him. She was paid far too much to waste her time with Ray on such trivial questions that his teammates could easily answer. However, she knew she would never get him into trouble with his boss. She was certain it was all an act anyway. Ray was smart, the smartest paralegal that Taylor had seen since she'd began working at the firm. He knew the answers to the questions that he was asking her. It was all just an excuse to come to her office, to get near her, to talk to her. Ray thanked her for her help and made small talk about the weather for a few seconds before leaving her office. She took a deep breath once he was gone. It always took her several minutes to clear her mind after he had left so she could return to her work. Since he began working at the firm, Taylor wasn't the only one who took opportunities to make inappropriate glances. She'd caught him sneaking peeks a number of times while he checked out her legs and bottom. She also noticed that when he thought she wasn't looking he'd sneak gazes at her breasts. She even knew which skirts and blouses he liked best and made a conscious effort to purchase the clothes that he seemed to like and she wore them as often as possible. So many times she thought of throwing caution to the wind and coming onto him. She knew he'd be receptive, but there was so much to risk. In their haughty legal working environment, accusations of sexual harassment, substantiated or not, could damage her career. At the very least, it would ruin her chance of being offered a partnership. She shuddered to think what would happen if she gave into her lustful feelings and he told one of his co-workers. He was only nineteen after all and could she trust him to keep a confidence of that magnitude? And what of her husband? She wasn't entirely certain that he wouldn't leave her if he discovered that she had a liaison with this young man. It was just too much to risk she reasoned. She could admire him from afar, but she could never let it go beyond that, it just wasn't worth the risk. That Friday, Taylor was working late in her office. She had a presentation for a prospective client on Monday and it would be a major accomplishment if she could get them to agree to be represented by her firm. If she could sign this client it would help cement her future partnership. She looked down at her watch, God, it was seven o'clock already and her co- workers had left the building a couple of hours ago to begin the weekend. She had been at work for thirteen hours and she still had to reconcile figures from two different documents which would take a couple of hours more. She was mentally exhausted and decided to take the reports home and finish up over the weekend. Her husband was in Arizona spending the weekend golfing with his friends at some tournament and she dreaded going back to that big empty house by herself. However, she knew staying in the office any longer was pointless. Carrying her full briefcase, she walked out of the automatic doors toward the covered parking section of the lot that was reserved for attorneys. She gasped as she approached her car. "Fuck," she muttered, under her breath, as she examined the flat tire on her car. _The perfect end to a long miserable day._ She dreaded the thought of calling roadside assistance. It had taken them over two hours to help her when she accidently left her lights on and ran down her battery a year ago. Is there any way she could change the tire herself, she wondered. No, it was impossible. Not in this skirt and white top. Grudgingly, she retrieved her phone and began to dial. "Can I help you with that?" a deep voice behind her asked. She whirled around and saw that Ray was approaching her. "What are you still doing here?" she asked quizzically. He shot her a sexy smile. "You're not the only one who works late in hopes of getting a promotion." She couldn't help but notice his perfect white teeth amidst that playful youthful grin. Just being in his presence was enough to almost make her swoon. She cursed herself for thinking like a pre-pubescent schoolgirl and quickly pulled herself together. "That's not necessary, I have roadside and I'm calling them now," she said in a serious tone. Ray decided to back off. She was a boss. Not his boss, but a boss nonetheless, and she seemed serious about not wanting his help, so he figured it wasn't a good idea to push it. "I understand," he said solemnly. She observed the wounded look in his eyes and off-handedly dismissed it as she continued to call roadside assistance. Now further irritated, she was immediately put on hold, not a good sign. After several minutes, she finally was able to speak to a representative who told her it was going to be at least a two and a half hour wait until assistance would arrive. She looked thoughtfully into Ray's eyes and she disconnected the call. He seemed so eager to help her, maybe it would be okay to let him, she reasoned as her logical thought process took over. "If you'd be willing to help me change the tire Ray, I'd really appreciate it," she said softly. His eyes lit up as he removed his suit coat and loosened his tie. He was wearing a short-sleeved dress shirt and she immediately noticed his well- muscled arms that, up until now, she was only able to sneak glances at from a distance. They laughed and joked as he removed the spare tire from the trunk and began using the jack to elevate the front quarter of the car. His jovial nature was beginning to put her at ease as they discussed office politics and cachinnated at some of the firm's more interesting clientele. She marveled at his intelligence and quick mind. This young man needed to be in college and then law school she thought, as she mentally reminded herself to make sure he knew about the firm's many scholarship opportunities that he should be taking advantage of. As he was tightening the last lug nut, she winced at the thought of going home to that large, cold, empty house and microwaving some cardboard tasting entrée from the freezer. How long had it been since she'd been out on a Friday night? It had been so long she couldn't remember. She quickly dismissed the thought. Take a subordinate to dinner? Was that even ethical? Then her mind wandered to the times when she took her team of paralegals to lunch to reward them. This would be something similar to that, right? Ray did change her tire after all. She did owe him something she reasoned, trying to justify the idea to herself. "All done," he said, as he stood up and faced her. She took a moment to look at him, it was just dinner she thought, not a big deal really. "Thank you so much for your help, Ray. I was wondering, umm... would you be interested in getting something to eat with me?" He gave her an astonished look; he obviously didn't see that coming. "I'd like that," he said appreciatively. "Hop in then," she said playfully. After putting the flat tire and the rest of the tools in the trunk of her car, they sped off towards 'The District' at Green Valley Ranch which was only a couple of miles from their law firm. The District was a small assortment of high-end shops, boutiques and restaurants next to Green Valley Ranch hotel and casino. Taylor often went shopping there with her friends for clothes. Additionally, she frequently took important clients to lunch at the many high-end restaurants located there. She pulled up in front of her favorite restaurant, a small, quaint Parisian themed café. As they stepped out of her car and walked the half-dozen steps to the door, Ray wrapped his hand gently around her upper arm for a couple of seconds before he was forced to remove it, so he could open the door for her. The bold move, while subtle, sent a chill through her body as his large hand made contact with the small of her back for several seconds as they waited for the hostess. She thought of giving him a cold stare or even a verbal warning which might dissuade him from making further physical contact with her, but she couldn't find it within herself to do so. Her husband had long stopped touching her, or even holding her hand, on the rare occasions when they would go out together. Even though she kept reminding herself this was just a simple dinner between co-workers, his brief touch made her long for so much more. The hostess sat them at a small table in a corner of the restaurant. Ray had chosen to sit beside her, instead of across from her, which added to the sexual tension she was feeling due to his close proximity. After her long stressful day she could really use a glass of wine, but then thought better of it when she remembered Ray's age. They decided on ice tea and a seafood appetizer of mussels, crab cakes, and Cajun-style shrimp Picante. Taylor's initial nervousness was put at ease by Ray's jovial easy-going nature. She listened intently as he talked about his love of sports and his family that he loved to visit but still missed as he adjusted to living on his own in his new apartment. He reminded her so much of herself a decade ago when she moved out of her parents house to start her life. She remembered having all those same types of feelings that he so eloquently described when she first started to make her way in the world. It felt like a lifetime ago, at a time before she felt so encumbered by the stresses of her marriage, career, mortgage, and car payments. What would it be like to be nineteen, to live that carefree life again, even if only for a weekend? She quickly put that dangerous thought out of her mind. As Ray opened up to her about his personal life, Taylor got caught up in the moment. "So, are you seeing anyone?" she asked hesitantly, trying to gauge his reaction. He smiled slightly at her question. "I had a girlfriend that I was seeing for about a year, but I ended it a couple months ago." Her eyes widened at his admission. "May I ask why?" "She started to get very attached to me and I wanted more freedom," he said honestly. "You know how those white girls can get," he added. Taylor could feel herself blushing as she remembered back to her college days and the torrid two months she spent with her black lover. Had she acted like that, attached and possessive? she wondered. They both took a moment to take a sip of their ice tea until Ray's broke the silence. "What does your husband think of you working such late hours on a Friday evening?" he asked boldly. Taylor squirmed a bit in her seat at his inquiry, but she was the one who broached the subject of significant others, so she felt he was entitled to an answer to his question. "He knows my career is important to me, but sometimes he does get irritated when I work late," she said hesitantly before continuing. "However, he's out of town this weekend so I guess he wouldn't have much to say about it this evening," she said as a little smile broke over her face. Ray looked deep into her eyes and was about to make another comment concerning her husband when the waitress interrupted the conversation by approaching the table with their food. She had ordered the blackened Atlantic salmon and he decided on the Lake Superior whitefish. While they ate their delicious meals, they tacitly agreed not to talk about anything work related. Instead, they concentrated their conversation on hobbies and interests as they learned more about each other. He was so easy to talk to and he put her at ease so quickly. They had never had this type of conversation before this evening and it was so refreshing to listen to him speak about the music he liked, his dream car, and his future goals and plans. Once they had finished their entrées, Ray gently coaxed her into sharing a dessert with him. After looking over the menu, they decided on a decadent hot- fudge brownie Sundae. Taylor was so health-conscious that she rarely, if ever, ate any type of sweets. However, it felt like a magical evening and she couldn't find a way to say no to his genial insistence. When their server brought the delectable dessert and set it between them, they both hesitantly took their spoons and cautiously dipped it into the chocolate covered ice cream. After they had each taken a couple of bites, Ray scooped another small portion of ice cream with his spoon and slowly held it up to Taylor's mouth. It was as if lighting bolts were passing between them as she gradually and deliberately leaned forward and ate the ice cream off his spoon. This simple act was tantamount to opening a hedonistic floodgate of sexual desire within them. He gently placed his hand on her stocking clad thigh and leaned forward until their mouths met in a hot passionate kiss. Sexual electricity passed between them as their tongues gently played with each other. As they broke their erotic embrace, Taylor's hazy lust filled mind came to a decision. She wasn't going to deny herself the pleasure that she knew this young man would bring her, consequences be damned. She looked intently into Ray's eyes, "Do you have plans this evening? she said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I don't have any plans," he said huskily. She hesitated for a moment, but it was too late, she'd made her decision, and she was all in. "Would you be interested in getting a room with me?" He looked lustfully into her eyes, "I've wanted to fuck you from the moment I saw you, Taylor," he said boldly. Her heart skipped a beat at that brazen remark and she felt a current pass between her thighs that she hadn't felt in years. They left the rest of the dessert on the table and she quickly paid the check. She couldn't remember the last time she had wanted anyone this much and it was difficult for her mind to form coherent thoughts. The short five-minute drive to the Green Valley Ranch Hotel and Casino, passed like an epicurean blur. She faintly remembered his hands on her blouse; between her legs, his mouth licking, kissing her neck, her mind disoriented in a dazed, lust-filled fog. It took everything in her power to push him away so she could get the room. Several minutes later she withdrew the key card from the lock and the small motor retracted the deadbolt. While still in the hallway, Ray sensually pushed up against the door and pressed his erection into the cheeks of her ass. Simultaneously, his hands pulled the tucked-in white blouse out of her skirt. Taylor managed to get the door open so they could enter the room before anyone could witness their carnal display in the hall. Fervidly, he pushed her face down onto the bed and then collapsed on top of her. With his weight on her, she struggled to remove her blouse while he flipped her skirt up causing it to rest on her back. She moaned as his mouth found the hypersensitive region on the nape of her neck while his large hands tore the stockings and thong from her body. Taylor wantonly opened her legs as she felt Ray's fingers slide down the curve of her ass and then lower to the sodden cleft between her legs. Taylor's shallow breathing could be heard throughout the room as he gently eased two fingers inside her pussy which produced a low deep groan of pleasure. She clutched the bedspread with both hands as he moved his fingers in and out of her until she became delirious with an all-consuming lasciviousness that she knew only a fuck could assuage. "Do you know how long I've wanted to fuck this tight, white, married pussy?" he said while sucking on her earlobe. His words sent her over the edge and she shook uncontrollably in orgasm with his fingers buried deep inside of her. When she regained her senses, she felt him between her legs, his tongue exploring the folds of her vagina. She gasped as the tip of his tongue swirled over her clitoris with reckless abandon. It had been so long since her husband had gone down on her. God... he'd never eaten her pussy like this... not this good. Ray suddenly withdrew his tongue from her vulva. "Tell me what you want, Taylor?" he said in a mock-gruff, sensuous tone. "Oh... God... No... please don't stop," she begged, as her second orgasm had almost overtaken her before his talented tongue had retreated from her sopping vagina. "Tell me what you want, Taylor," he said, as he rubbed his large hands over her small, tight ass cheeks. Her cloudy mind tried to focus amidst his sensual touch and talented tongue. He was way too good of a lover to be only nineteen. "I want your cock, Ray," she said, in a low, guttural tone. "You had better be more specific," he said teasingly while gently inserting his long index finger inside of her. The sensation of being penetrated by his finger caused her mind to lose focus again. She found it so hard to think or form a coherent thought, much less speak, with his hands playing with her body like this. "I want your big black cock," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. Her words shocked her, but her lust filled mind wasn't thinking anymore in terms of politically correct speech. She only wanted to feel him inside her and she'd say whatever she thought he wanted to hear to make that happen. "Are you sure that's what you want? I don't know if you deserve me just quite yet," he said teasingly. Taylor used all of her mental facilities in an attempt to focus her lust filled mind. God, he was driving her crazy. "Please, Ray," she said, sensually "please put your black cock inside of my married white pussy. Ray smiled wickedly as he looked into Taylor's longing begging eyes. He didn't realize that he'd love teasing her so much. But this hot erotic foreplay was stoking his need for this beautiful woman. He stood at the edge of the bed and slowly, methodically, began removing his clothes. She was his, and there was no reason to hurry now, and he loved that anticipating, lustful look in her eyes. Taylor flipped over onto her back which made it easier to see him undress. She drank in that dark skin; those washboard abs, his long, black, muscled limbs. He was more, much more, than she had ever envisioned in her lewd, dark fantasies. Her jaw dropped open as he slowly pulled his boxers down exposing his long thick black cock. Just the size of it mesmerized her, the large bulbous head looked to be the size of a small apple, dripping pre-cum. She was certain she hadn't seen anything that big before, not even her former black lover in college. Maybe in a porn movie, she thought, at one of those interracial porn sites that she watched when her husband wasn't home. However, watching sex on a computer monitor never felt real. She knew there was a camera, a script, and actors who were being paid. But being in a room with him... standing in front of her... with that cock... God... this was shockingly real. He looked down into her eyes and saw what she was looking at. "What do you want, Taylor?" he said while running his hand over his long smooth shaft. He was going to make her say it again. He loved the way she looked at him with those lust-filled eyes and hearing those sensual words come out of her pretty little mouth. Well, that was pure heaven. "I want that big cock in my mouth... my married white mouth," she said meekly. "Come here and get what you want, then." Taylor immediately slid from the bed and got on her knees in front of him. She took his shaft in both hands and struggled to open her mouth wide enough to accommodate the large head. Ray groaned as she extended her tongue, running it over the slit in the head of his penis, collecting his pre-cum. Taking the head into her mouth, she swirled her tongue over it, working it as far back as she could. Taylor always loved giving head, but he was just so big, and it had been so long since she had a man in her mouth. She decided to concentrate on the head. She opened her mouth wide and sucked on the head while swirling her tongue over it in quick, rapid motions. He groaned as her talented mouth fellated him. She had always acted so prim and proper. He had thought of her as some collegiate, entitled white-girl priss, but he was quickly discovering another side of her. There was a wanton, slutty side to this women that he didn't even know existed. As much as she loved having this young man in her mouth, her evident lack of practice began to show, and after several minutes, her jaw started to ache. "It's been awhile since you sucked one this big, hasn't it?" She blushed at the not so subtle jab at her husband. Taylor wanted to please him, but she just needed a bit more time to adjust to his size and get some of her fellatio skills back. Ray witnessed the difficulty she was having with the girth of his member and he didn't want to ruin the moment by watching her struggle. "Put your arms down, Taylor, let me help you," he said gently. She complied and Ray rotated his hips, moving slowly in and out of her mouth. After a few easy thrusts, he soon discovered how deep he could go before the head of his cock reached the back of her throat which triggered her gag reflex. He took her long blonde hair in his hands as he pushed himself in and out of her hot wet mouth. Taylor's eyes began to water slightly as he moved in and out of her mouth. She had her hands on his muscular thighs to steady herself and she kept her mouth closed tightly around his shaft until she started to feel him tense up. God... it had been so long since she had given head, and even longer since a man had come in her mouth. Her saliva began oozing out of the sides of her lips, down the underside of his cock, and then onto the floor. God, she felt so good to him. Even though he was fucking her mouth more than she was giving him head, it still felt exquisite. Seeing that long, flowing blonde hair, her soft white skin around his black cock, the color contrast alone was enough to make him start to lose it. Feeling his impending orgasm, He slid out to calm himself down. He'd dreamt of this moment... this fantasy... for months. Amazingly, it was coming true. She was the fuck of a lifetime... a beautiful, blonde, lawyer. The first time he came in her sure as hell wasn't going to be in her mouth. "Get back up on the bed," he said smoothly. He took her arms and helped her up off of her knees and onto her feet. She thought of trying an exotic position like him behind her, or her riding him. Instead, she decided for their first time, simple was best. She gracefully slid onto the bed and then onto her back, opening her legs invitingly for him. He looked down at her and took a moment to linger and study the perfection that was laying in front of him. He marveled at her long, blonde hair cascading down around her shoulders. His gaze lingered at her full breasts swaying gently as she breathed, topped with those sexy pink nipples. She had a taut, tight, stomach that expanded into full, round hips and bottom. But between her legs... That was the culmination of what he believed to be the most perfect body he'd ever seen. Above her vulva, was a light thatch of very light brownish-blonde pubic hair and her vagina had small outer lips that concealed the tiny, inner pink ones that were leaking secretions onto her inner thighs. He knew she was more than ready. He slid onto the bed with her and positioned himself between her legs. Taking his cock in his hand, he rubbed the head up and down the length of her slit, splitting the lips of her vagina. She was so wet, his head was immediately shiny with her juices. He asked, "condom?" "No... Pill... Stay... bare. I want your black... Cock... Bare," she moaned lustfully. She gasped as he put the head at her aperture, and then gently, and slowly, began working himself inside of her. She felt her body open and expand around him as he kept pushing gradually, methodically, giving her time to adjust to his size and girth. He felt so big. Her husband was average, at best. But Ray, this was something different, something exquisite. She instinctively put her hands on his chest, as a silent gesture for him to continue proceeding gradually, to allow her body to accommodate his size. Taylor continued to moan and pant as Ray worked his way inside of her. Finally, after several moments, he'd fully impaled her. He looked down and gave her some time to get used to his size. He marveled at the color contrast of her tanned white skin compared to his dark, ebony flesh. The divergence in the color of their skin tone was truly mesmerizing to him. He looked down at her and their eyes met. She gave him a silent, gentle nod and she instantly gasped as he started to slowly move in and out of her. Taylor wrapped her arms around Ray's broad shoulders as he eased himself almost all the way out, and then gently worked himself back in. She closed her eyes, the intense pleasure sweeping over her. It felt like every one of her nerve endings was on fire as he moved his body over hers. Gradually, he picked up the pace and she could feel her body adjust to him. Aided by the wet swelter between her legs, he was able to establish a smooth easy rhythm as he rocked himself in and out of her. Seeing that she was becoming more acclimated to him, he progressively picked up the pace. The sweat of their bodies sensually mixed together as they moved in perfect unison, as one. She was so tight.... he marveled how her pussy felt like a smooth velvet glove that sheathed his cock perfectly. How she felt, how she moved with him, how she met his thrusts... this woman was truly exquisite. Taylor's orgasm came upon her almost without warning. He had such long, powerful strokes; she gasped and cried out as she pulled him down and their lips meeting in a salty, lust filled kiss. She felt his tongue enter her mouth as her orgasm racked her body and the waves washed over her. He exhibited such amazing control considering his youthful age. Ray never stopped his smooth easy rhythm and just as Taylor was recovering from one orgasm, the next was upon her. He was so thick and the angle was perfect. With each stroke, his thick cock perfectly rubbed her clit in an almost constant onslaught. Over and over, Ray's steady tempo pushed her body to new heights until she was near exhaustion. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, she felt him begin to tense up. Wanting to release with him, she reached down between her legs and slid her fingers over her engorged clit causing her to once again explode in orgasm. Simultaneously, she felt Ray's powerful jets of semen squirt inside of her. It took a full minute for them to catch their breath and once again breathe normally. She could feel his member lose rigidity inside of her, slip out, and he moved to her side. She felt his cock gently rest on the cleft of her bottom as he pulled her tightly against him, causing them to sensually spoon together. Both of them collected their thoughts while listening to the other's soft breathing until Ray broke the silence. "What are you thinking about, Ms. Jennings?" he said teasingly. _Your big amazing cock,_ she thought to herself, thankful he couldn't see her face as she blushed. Even after this torrid sex session, she still felt like a shy schoolgirl around him. "I think when we're out of the office; it would be all right for you to call me Taylor." "That implies we will be intimately together again, Taylor," he said, emphasizing both syllables of her name while his growing erection rubbed erotically against her bottom. She still had so many lingering questions and doubts. How would this affect her marriage? Would this ruin her career and a chance at a partnership? While lying comfortably and securely in his arms, she quickly put those lingering questions out of her mind. This young man had opened up a new, passion-filled world for her. A world that she thought she'd never have the pleasure of experiencing again. A world that she thought would only exist in her memories. She was determined not

to let fear or regret consume her actions and change the course of her life. Because of this young man, for the first time in years, she felt alive again. At that moment she resolved to never settle for a mundane, passionless existence. "It implies exactly that Ray." It was a nice cool day in the normal looking suburban area. The sun was still out as I knocked on the door of the house, I had recently seen a gorgeous young woman walk inside. I had been on my morning run and was stunned to see such a beauty out and about in the neighborhood. Around five foot four she had her long black hair pulled back into a sporty ponytail, her ample chest fighting against her sports bra as she jogged down the street. I had waited around an hour or so before approaching the house on my own, ringing the bell and hoping that the I had not forgotten which house I had seen her go into. "Um, hello?" The woman I had seen before answer the door cautiously. She looked to be about 18 or 19 now that I had a better look at her. "Yes, hello. How are you today Miss...", I trailed off gazing into her eyes, slowly taking advantage of her unguarded mind with my abilities. "My...um...Amy. Amy Zhang, um why are you..." She began to trail off as a look of confusion swept across her sweet round face. "Now Amy, it's lovely to meet you. First you are going to invite me in, then you are going to lead me to whichever room you feel most comfortable in. Oh, and by the way, is there anyone else home with you?" She shook her head submissively before replying, "No. Just me at home." "Master" I informed her. "You will address me as Master, do you understand Amy?" She smiled as her confusion gave way to joy. She would do quite nicely for me. "Yes! Of course, Master, I am so sorry." "Amy, how old are you?" I asked looking her up and down. "Eighteen, Master" "Very good Amy, now why don't you take me somewhere you feel comfortable." Amy lead me down the hall away and then into what appeared to be her bedroom. Various certificates and trophies hung around the walls with a large white desk next to a good-sized bed with intensely pink sheets fitted over it. I smiled to myself looking at the charming room of a soon to be high school graduate before casting my eyes back over to Amy. She had changed out her previous work clothes into a simple black skirt and white top, nothing too modest but nothing overly exciting either. The young Asian woman stood there awaiting my commands like a good slave. "Bend over" I commanded, getting a better look at her fit ass underneath the black skirt. Simple white panties with a single pink ribbon adorned her bottom half as I moved my hands across her behind. I gave her ass a nice smack and felt Amy shudder in excitement. I spanked her again to see her reaction and she did not disappoint. I could hear her breath hasten in her excitement at being touched and as I slowly traced my fingers underneath her, I encountered a now sopping wet spot upon her panties. I grinned rubbing my hand up and down her lips through the spot listening to her moan. "Oh yes Master, thank you Master. Please, please give me more" she begged. I had barely begun asking her to obey me and I had a wet Asian slut already on my hands. "Amy," I asked "Do you like being spanked like this?" "Oh yes" she replied, "more than anything Master." I was not entirely surprised, a lot more women than one might think harbor submissive and light BDSM fantasies. I was however very curious to see how deep these ones went. "Amy tell me about how you enjoy being spanked. Please spare no detail, you trust me absolutely. Even the most embarrassing part of your kink can be shared with me, do you understand?" The little Asian vixen nodded and began, "Well, recently I have started to find myself horny all the time. My mom's never let me have a boyfriend, but she's never really monitored my internet use so I can still watch porn and read erotica. I like to rub myself on my pillows, humping them like I was humping a nice big cock until I climaxed. Then I found out if I were humping my pussy up against the bed post", she pointed to the bed post behind me, "I could really get off a lot better. That's when I found out I squirted a ton whenever I had a large enough orgasm." "Oh, that's lovely Amy. I look forward to having you demonstrate that for me" I walked over to the bed post and gestured towards it, "this is the one?" I asked. "Yes Master. That's the one I use for it." "Hmm, while I do enjoy how forthcoming you're being, I think we could have a bit more fun Amy. How about this? I give you back some of your control and you show me how you rub yourself up on this pole? I think that's a fair trade" I clicked my fingers together. "Now Amy, you have your mind back and you understand what's happening to you. However you will still answer any question I ask truthfully and your are compelled to masturbate on this bed post" I grinned as a look of panic swept over the girls face as she pulled down her panties and began to walk over to the bed post. "Oh my god. Please no, this is is, oh god please, this so wrong!" Amy gripped the post with her hands as she began to aggressively rub her now naked vulva up and down the post, leaking her wetness all over the smooth hard wood. It was a beautiful sight watching this lovely half naked Asian teenager lewdly preforming for me her most private act. Surely though, I thought there was more here than just this fun show. "Now, Amy, you know you have to answer me truthfully. What are you thinking about when you rub yourself so vigorously up and down on that bed post of yours?" She shook her head, trying to keep her words from spilling out but it was too late. Her mind was a plaything to me, as easy as clay to shape and reshape to my will. Her face red with embarrassment she began to confess, "I've only had sex once. It was terrible. The guy was so gentle with me and boring. All I can think about when I'm aroused is a man taking me forcibly, making me submit to his will as I do anything he says. It's...why...it's why", she stopped, panting, as she began to climax. "Oh no, no no Amy. That will not do at all", I snapped my fingers quickly and said, "No cumming unless I give you my explicit permission dear. And keep going with your story, I really am enjoying it." She looked at me and almost was able to stop herself as she gave a small gasp and realized she was now stuck on the edge of orgasm. The pole was now slick and shiny with the girl's cum and I could see the panic in her eyes at what she knew she would now have to do. "Please, no, please. I can't. I don't even know you...Master. I, I, oh god just please let me cum Master, please" Amy's begging was excellent as she continued, "I want to just be owned, to be completely dominated and taken by a man thrusting his cock into my holes however he wants. I want him to humiliate me and use me like the little cum slut I know I am!" she exclaimed as she continued to her rub herself as per my orders. I smiled looking at this desperate little slut, "Amy. Stop now." She collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily, her eyes still filled with lust as her hips continued to slightly move up in down, desperate for a real escape. "Amy, strip off the rest of your clothes and crawl towards me. I want to see you naked and on your fours like the bitch you profess to be" "Yes Master" She began ripping off her clothes revealing two lovely pale breasts heaving up and down with her excitement. "Do you...do you like it?" She crawled around a bit, showing off her tits and lovely bubble butt for my amusement. I nodded in approval at her tight build, walking over towards her and inspecting my lovely find. Her breasts were quite lovely as I cupped my hands around them and began to play with them in earnest. The little slut began breathing harder the more I touched her. She was barely even hypnotized anymore and seemed very eager to play through the rest of this scenario. I ran my hand down her naked back side, my fingers slowly inserting themselves into what was now an extremely wet hole for them. It was almost too easy sliding half my hand into this young woman as she continued to gasp in pleasure and anticipation. "You have been such a willing little whore for me Amy. I really do appreciate it. Let's see just how much we can get you to squirt hm?" I pulled my pants down and stepped out of them before grabbing her backside and pulling it towards my cock. Teasing her pussy with just the tip of my member, I could hear a light quiver in her breathing as she anticipated my next move. "Now Amy, you're a slut for me, do you understand?" I said as I thrust into her fully, my cock slamming into the Asian girl's wet pussy so smoothly. "Yes, Master, I'm your slut" "Louder, slut!" "Yes Master! I'm your slut!" She yelled, her voice echoing throughout the house. "You're a little fuck pet slut, aren't you Amy?" "Oh God, yes Master! I'm your little fuck pet. Your fuck pet slut! I'm a fuck pet! Fuck me however you want, just please use me Master, use my fuck pet hole!" Amy screamed out her mantras unabashedly letting anyone nearby just what a submissive hot slut she really was. I pulled my cock out of the young girl's snatch and flipped her onto her back side, her large cream colored tits now fully in view, her face in rapt attention as I shoved her legs apart and thrust myself back inside her. My cute little slave's pubic hair glistened with drops of her juices as I pumped in and out of her eager fuck hole. I grabbed her breast and slapped it hard with my hand watching the delight in Amy's face as she registered this new sensation. Eager for more she cried out,"Punish me Master! Punish my huge tits, please! Punish your naughty slave as hard as you want!" Her eyes rolled back a bit as she begged for more while I brought my hand down across her impressive chest once again. I could see her slowly biting down on her lower lip as I held her so close to orgasm without any release. I slapped her tit again, delighting in watching her chest bounce up and down as I pounded my new slut into subservience. "Now Amy, do you want to cum for Master?" I asked, knowing the answer to my own question. "Yes! Yes, please Master. Please let me cum!" She begged desperately, her body and mind wanting release more than it had ever had in her life. "When I snap my fingers Amy, you can cum. You can cum as much as you want do you understand?" Amy nodded quickly, her mouth agape, breathing heavily as her eyes stared up at my fingers. I held my hand up slowly, teasing her, my cock still thrusting inside her wonderfully wet tight hole, feeling her tighten around me again and again trying to cum on her own. I snapped my fingers. At first, I could simply feel her tighten even more around my cock but as I pulled my cock slowly out her she began to gush from her pussy a stream of juices all over her pink bed spread. "Oh yes!!" she exclaimed as the fluids shot out of her, soaking her ass in a puddle that would dampen even the lowest parts of her mattress. I grinned and quickly pushed her legs up, directing her stream all over herself, delightfully watching Amy cover herself in her own squirt, her mouth open as it poured from her little pussy to all over her cute face. Watching this I couldn't help but grab my still erect member and finish myself off as I looked on at this perverted water works display. Sliding my hand up and down my still wet cock from Amy, I shot my load onto the naked drenched girl, covering her breasts with my ejaculate. As she laid there struggling to breathe normally Amy looked down with a look of horror as I slowly let her realize what she had just done with me. Completely naked and drenched in mostly her own cum she stared up at me angrily as I looked into her eyes and spoke, "Now Amy. You are still my little cumslut. You love being drenched in cum like this, don't you?" I asked. She paused, her lips pursed, and she slowly sat up pulling her long black hair out of her face saying, "Yes, I love being covered in cum like this." I continued, "It turns you on and sexually satisfies you. This is how so many of those dirty fantasies of yours end don't they Amy?" She nodded, "Yes, this is my fantasy. I'm a good little cumslut", she smiled and began to fondle her tits rubbing my cum over her body enjoying her new cumslut self. "In fact, Amy, from now on whenever you do get the chance to masturbate, when you cum I want you to squirt all over yourself just like this. Every time, do you understand? Make a huge wet mess of yourself like the wet slut you are now." I grinned thinking of how hard it would be for this young horny girl to have to clean up after such a humiliating session each time. She nodded again repeating, "Yes, I need to make a huge mess whenever I touch myself. Cover myself in squirt. I am a wet slut Master," She paused as the words sunk in then with a big smile began to bounce up and down on her bed cum dripping down her nipples as she exclaimed "I'm a big wet slut for my Master!" I laughed enjoying seeing such perversion now out in the open. Suddenly a loud groaning noise came from sounded like down the hall of the house. My eyes looked over and I asked, "Amy what's that noise, is that your garage opening?" Amy smiled and nodded at me, "Oh yes Master, I'm sure that's my mother coming back from the shopping she was doing. That's her calling for me right now. She always likes to check and see what I'm up to when she gets home from errands." I grinned, "That is wonderful news Amy, why don't you take a little shower for me and I'll go introduce myself to your mother. When you're done, you go on and pick an outfit that suits my wet little slut OK?" Clearly excited Amy jumped up with a quick "Yes Master!" and proceeded into her bathroom and turning the shower on. I gave a quick look, enjoying the sight of her washing the cum from her body off before redressing myself and walking out into the main part of the house.

_This story is a little pet project of mine and I'm just putting the feelers out, since it's a little different to my usual stuff. There's no sex in this chapter, if that's what you're looking for...but if I get enough feedback to warrant continuing, there will be_ _J_ _If anyone is familiar with the song "Colder" by Charon; it serves as the inspiration for this piece._ **Chapter One** "Psssst." Sol jerked left. The blackberries he tended caught his fingers with clean thorns and his eyelids mashed into a wince; he searched for the voice in darkness. Where did the hiss come from? "Over here," said the voice. Its tone was hushed, air escaping around sharp teeth. When the pain fell away, the light rushed back into Sol's eye sockets and the blood welled at his fingertip in crimson flecks. Writhing towards him was a fat green snake. Sol jumped up, searching at once for Mari, his lover; she had been picking redcurrants on the other side of the clearing. There she was still, her copper hair bound by splintered grasses -- the same ones that crafted the basket at her feet. He exhaled; she hadn't been bitten. Now, he needed to -- "I know you can hear me," said the snake, cocking its smooth little head. Sol stepped back. He must have pricked his finger on something other than a blackberry bush -- snakes did not talk. "Oh, Mother," he muttered. " _She_ couldn't hear me." The snake glanced briefly at Mari with a flicker of forked tongue. "I could go back and taste her pretty ankle, though, if that would be more convincing." "No --!" Sol brought a hand to his temples. Snakes _did not_ talk. "Ah. Now then." The snake's plump body piled into a coil at Sol's feet. "Do I have your attention?" "I...yes..." "Sit down, then." Sol gulped as he sank to his knees, now hidden from sight by the thigh-high brambles. "We can't have brothers and sisters thinking you mad now, can we?" said the serpent. "Snakes don't talk," he whispered, glued to the creature's murky gold eyes. "And yet, _you_ can hear me." The snake paused. "There are a lot of things that humans would be able to do if they only tried, Sol. If they only asked the right questions." Its black pupils swelled. "How do you know my name?" Sol said. "I know all things, all things. It's just the nature of what I am." "An evil spirit." He spat on the ground. "Already on to good and evil, are we?" The snake clicked its teeth. "Interesting." "You're not a snake," Sol murmured; understanding. The world swam with it. "Indeed." Ivory fangs flashed in the newborn sun. "Tell me, Sol -- what is the nature of what _you_ are?" "I...I don't know," he admitted, his shoulders heaving. The question was suddenly a huge weight to bear. "Let me tell you what the nature of human beings is," the snake sighed. " _Flawed_. There are faults in the depths of your guts, in the sinew of your legs, in the pit of your brain. You are mortal, Sol, and that is your problem. These are the things that make you weak." "But we are strong, too. We build, we make, we rule -- " "What do you _rule_?" The snake laughed. "Tiny, insignificant patches of land! Let me tell you - in thousands of years, you will rule no more; not the natural world, not the world beyond. I've seen it. I _know_." Sol scratched at his temple again. "I don't understand -- _I_ don't want to rule anything. What has this got to do with me?" "You can hear a snake talk." Sol gave a nervous little laugh. "But what does that mean?" The snake seemed to smile, stretching cold scales over its teeth. " _That_ is the right question." It leaned in, its voice falling. "What if I told you that in a matter of years, there will be nothing left? You will lose your strength. Enemy tribes will spring forth and steal this very orchard from your grasp. Mari will die giving birth to your children." "I..." Sol's brow fell forward, his eyebrows meeting in a bushy crest. "I don't believe that's true." "I told you. I've seen it." "Why are you telling me this?" he said. "I'm giving you the chance to change it, Sol." The snake caught his gaze, conquered and ruled it. "There's another way." Sol glanced up, as if the sky might offer a hand crafted in cloud that he could hold on to. "What way is that, and why would you offer it to me?" "Your maker has been careless, Sol. It wanted Its creations to suffer and die. It is natural and inevitable, It said. And _I_ say..." Another flick of the spear-like tongue. "I say that what is natural will remain so, and what is _un_ natural will be stronger." "What?" Sol whispered, fascinated and appalled. "I can turn you into a powerful spirit -- and you will still be a man. I can make you live as long and as strong as you desire." "Why would I want that?" "There will be more of you. We will make them together, choose them. Oh, you will have to be patient," it smiled again, "but one day, I will make you a spirit greater than any. A God." A God. Sol was trembling, even in the morning heat. He had never hoped for more than songs around the fire and love beyond the dying embers. Pain was just part of life. "There is nothing wrong with wanting this," said the snake. He seemed to be talking from very far away. "What price do I pay?" he managed. " _You_ pay no price. Well. Only the price that any might for living a life in the beginning of things. Being first can be lonely...but then you are no stranger to that." This was true. His tribe were the first humans as they were -- or at least, as far as they could tell. The world was but a slow learning curve; nobody dared to think of ruling it all. Maybe...somebody should? "Escape death. Escape illness. Surround yourself with your own kind and escape even loss," urged the snake. "But -- but Mari -- " "Be stronger. Faster. Better," it hissed. "And what's in this for you?" he said suddenly. "I am like your maker; a philosopher, a scientist," it said. "One day, you will know what that means." "I should know now," Sol retorted. "Then let me _show_ you." The snake leaned in again, its head drifting from its coiled body. "I don't have long left..." Sol ripped a fistful of brambles from the earth in adrenaline-steeped exasperation. The pain ebbed sweetly in his palm; it made him dizzy. "I don't even know what you're asking me!" he cried. "Choose this." The snake nudged his hot hand with its cold little head. As his fingers unfurled and the brambles fell away, Sol saw crimson trickling along his skin. "Choose...blood?" he croaked. " _Live_ blood. It is more powerful than you know. Do you want to be a great man-spirit or a mutated weakling?" "My brothers and sisters are not weaklings..." He couldn't peel his eyes from the scarlet patterns as they meandered down his arm. "But think of the things you will teach them, if you only have the means." It sought his eyes again, glued them to its own. "I can't wait any longer, Sol. There isn't -- " "I don't know!" Sol felt warm tears on his cheeks; it was only when one splashed on to his knee that he noticed the colour. Deep, dark red. He opened his mouth and the words queued on his tongue in unruly stutter. "W-what have you done t-to me?" The snake lunged. Sol was fast, but not fast enough. Its fangs sank deep above Sol's collarbone and frozen pain drudged in, thawing on impact. His pulse slackened and heat poured from his gaping wounds. Then he heard the voice in his head: a hoarse screech that doused everything in smoke. _Isn't the pain beautiful, Sol? It's all part of it. It won't be long..._ __ Sol could hear the snake gulping and swallowing. "Don't -- " He took a wheezing breath, "don't k-kill me!" _This is only the beginning._ __ Sol only bleated a miserable sob. _Is it dark yet? Are you fading? Let it go._ __ "No - " __ _LET IT GO!_ __ It _was_ dark, like his face had fallen into wet pitch and all the while, it was so horribly cold. _I love you, Sol. Go forth and know it._ "What...what if I want it to stop?" he managed. _If one day, you do, then I understand._ "How?" he screamed, suddenly desperate. Before the end, he must know this. _You need only..._ " _How?_ " The word flayed his raw throat. _You need only to --_ Oh, no no. _That_, my flawed little Halflings, would be cheating. **** **2012** _Brutus and Octavian Gemellus are two of the UK's most famous vampires. Their MTV show,_ See No Evil _, tops the ratings every weekend and the boys' website boasts two million unique hits a week._ _Focus_. What else did that documentary say? Don't think about how annoying the perma-tanned presenter was. No. No...aha! _With their sun-kissed good looks, the twins could make even a purist forget the myth that vampires are allergic to daylight. These guys are hot to trot and boy, do they know it!_ Because that's going to be useful during a job interview, remembering just how batchelor-tastic they are. When they ask me if I know their favourite Toni and Guy stylist, I'll be sorted. What was it that Mr. Green used to say in Media Studies? Yeah...Youtube is not research. __ _Their ancient Roman names and tanned skin mean that they are often mistaken for Italians, but as we revealed on our_ Fanguine _history special, the twins actually hail from England. They were sent to Gaul as soldiers during the Roman occupation and chose their namesakes through the wry wit that has since captured the hearts - and necks - of the nation._ Good looking. Funny. What's not to love? Aside from eating people, that is. I forget that bit occasionally. A lot of people do these days. _Bru and Tavian - as the boys are known - reside in a comfortable mansion in the Surrey countryside, formerly owned by the National Trust. You'll be relieved to know that instead of coffins, they sleep on twelve-hundred thread- count sheets and luxurious - but normal - four poster beds. The only place the boys_ won't _allow our cameras is the dining room...but we all know what happens in -_ "Miss Leye?" "Mmm?" I hid my chewing gum beneath my tongue. "You're next," said the assistant. "You've got two minutes." She stalked away on her impossibly high heels; legs like a gazelle, arse like a horse with a superiority complex. I stared down at my high street suit and wondered how on Earth I was supposed to fit into the highbrow world of vampire servitude. Not that the job I'd applied for was glamorous in the least. Not really. Crap. They're not going to film my interview, are they...? I closed my eyes, tried to ignore the way mascara had matted my lashes uncomfortably tight. I thought, just for a second, on why I was really there. Then the dark got nauseating and I returned to the waiting room at Gorby Hall with its teetering chandeliers, faded oil paintings on wood panelling and worryingly creaky furniture. Was this better than the dark? Was it merely a different shade? "We're ready for you." The assistant's voice was shrill in my ear. "Oh. Ok then." I stood up, brandishing my CV like it would serve as a stake. Paper is wood, right? I followed her down a dimly lit hall in the same mahogany panelling, and teetered on my heels as she stopped dead beside an open door. A camera had been set up beside it and I pointed nervously. "Are...are they...?" "For this?" she snorted. "Ha! No. Think yourself lucky." _Especially with that make-up_, she was thinking. It was written all over her face in eyeliner as blunt as mine. I snuck the chewing gum back into its wrapper and shoved it into my pocket. I took a deep breath; the air was musty here. _Don't cough!_ My eyeballs, of all places, felt cold. The I sank into the carpet of the drawing room and came face to face with two caramel-haired twenty (hundred) somethings, their stares bored as they lounged in huge velvet chairs. "Hi," I croaked. Brutus - the one with the straight hair tucked behind his ears, I remembered - glanced up and cocked an eyebrow. Octavian pursed his lips at his brother, twiddling with a stray wave. "Why's she here, again?" "Job interview," said Brutus. "Oh. I _see_." Octavian looked me swiftly up and down. "Right. So why do you want to be a chef?" I stepped from foot to foot. "I kind of already _am_ a chef," I said. "Ignore him. He got the question wrong." Brutus leaned forward on his elbows. "Why do you want to be a chef to _us_?" "You mean, to vampires?" Octavian gave a sarcastic little nod. "I suppose I want a new challenge?" I tried. "I'm sure you read the brief," Bru went on, "but to make this very clear - there's not much cooking involved." "We eat a lot of cereal," Tavian added, very serious. "Actually...yeah. We do." Bru scratched the back of his neck. "What kind?" I ventured. Silence. Ooh. I know my place, eh. Octavian leapt up and snatched the CV from my hands. He had a shocking grace about him; he looked like he should have lumbered. "Well, I'm not calling you Delphine," he announced. "Utterly shite name." Brutus chewed his lip. "What I mean to say is...you do know what the position entails, yes?" "Maybe Del. Dellie? Too plain? Too dull?" Octavian sank back in the chair and threw his legs over the armrest. "How about Phi, like the spreadable cheese?" "We don't _turn_ people. That's not part of the deal," Brutus said quietly. He caught my gaze and held it; I was a cat after string. "I know," I whispered. _The boys are plagued with requests to turn their adoring fans into fellow vampires, but they insist that they follow the rules_, the presenter said in my head. _In fact, no vampires have been turned for almost two hundred years._ "We could mix it up a bit. Pheenie. Phizzle. I'm liking Phizzle but it's not sexy. What do you think, Bru?" Bru ignored his brother. "You know that sometimes, you'd make the kill - don't you?" "I know." I paused, black hair falling into my eyes as I finally lost my nerve. "Loads of people do it now. They deserve it, right?" "Actually, I take it back. Phizzle sucks emu cock. I'm going to call you Priscilla." Tavian grinned at me. "That's...lovely," I muttered. "Take no notice of him," Bru sighed. "Look -- Miss Leye. Just because somebody's a criminal themselves...it doesn't make killing them any easier, not when you come to it." He cleared his throat. "For you, that is." Octavian sniffed my CV as if he was a dog going after a mate's arse. "If you're not feeling Priscilla, I could totally go with Emmeline - " "Tavian - " "She _smells_ like an Emmeline," he insisted. "Fucking hell, Tavian! Will you cut the faux-dim crap and just help me out here?" Octavian grinned at me again. "Are you a virgin?" he teased. Arses. If you can be seared by a blush, I was sizzling. "Leave off it. She's eighteen. Of course she's not a - " "Come on. They taste _so_ much better," he said. "Yes," I yelped. Ooh. My parents would be so proud of me right now. "They do not." Brutus rolled his eyes. "Total myth. If anything, they're a bit soapy." "I could... _not_ be a virgin?" "Cor. She really wants this job, eh?" Octavian beckoned me with a finger. "Listen, Emme...we'll sort out your name later. Come here." I glanced at Bru, who gave a slow nod. "Don't stand there like a dolt, Phizzle," Tavian tutted. I walked slowly, coming to a stop just between the pair of them. I had expected to see something different about them close up - blue-tinged skin? Drunk eyes? Eerie disposition? - but no, nothing. They looked...well. Normal. Before I could stop him, Bru snatched my hand, reached into his pocket and slammed a thick little needle right into my palm. I shrieked so loud that it echoed round the beams. "It's rude to stare," he murmured, watching the blood splutter up from the wound. "This wasn't in the brief," I gasped. He dipped a marble-cold finger into the blood and lathed it over his tongue. Then he paused. I used to read vampire books. I admit it. Anne Rice, Dracula, bad Buffy fan fiction...I devoured it. Before the uprising, before anybody knew that vampires were truly real - they were almost seductive. Do you remember the moments in those stories when the brooding vamp hero tastes a girl for the first time, and instantly falls in love? The look of intensity on his strange, beautiful features? For just a split second, I thought that it was happening to Bru. No. He didn't look enraptured. He didn't even look hungry. He looked...confused. "What?" I said, forgetting the pain. "What's wrong?" I dropped my hand and the blood fell on to the duck-egg carpet in fat little splashes. "Oh crap. I'm sorry - " "Shut up." Bru looked at his brother, who scowled at him. "Well?" said Tavian. Bru leaned over and whispered against his ear. I watched his mouth move as he spoke, still frozen to the spot like a thawing sculpture. I trembled as the heat seeped back in. They could tell. "I -- I would have said if you'd asked -- " I stammered. "We did ask. You lied," Bru said quietly. Tavian shook his head. "Not a virgin, eh." "Sorry," I muttered. Bru was watching me, his brown eyes still wide and intrigued. "So you should be." Was that a flicker of a smile? "You don't need to go home for anything, do you?" "Um." I should go home and leave a note, I suppose. Not that anyone's likely to read it, but it feels like it should be done. "Maybe - " "It was a rhetorical question." Hang on just a second. I got the job? "Welcome to Gorby Hall, Miss Leye." Tavian sat back and folded thick arms. "We'd best get you sorted, hmm?" _I got the job_. My pulse joined my shriek somewhere in the rafters. "Delphie. How does that sound?" said Tavian. Bru nodded. "I like it." Why was that so easy? A shock of cold shot up my arm as Tavian swiped my hand and began pressing the print to various papers. "Hey -!" "Employment terms...non-disclosure...dental policy," he said blithely, tossing the contracts aside as he smeared them with my blood. "We now own your goldfish. I hope that's ok." "I don't have any goldfish," I muttered. "Did I say goldfish? I meant _soul_." I felt my eyes dart from one twin to the other. Straight faces. "That's not funny," I said. "Best hope you don't have a soul, then," said Bru, mischief alight in his eyes. It suited him. I'm not sure what made me more uncomfortable; that I thought that, or that I noticed in the first place. I shouldn't have been looking so closely -- these men had murdered hundreds of people. Thousands, probably -- and not all of them were to the current specification of _bad seed._ Another assistant appeared in an arched doorway. She was shorter and older than the last, pale copper hair wrapped in a loose bun. "Natasha's our housekeeper - you're all hers," said Bru. "Be good, now." "I'll do my best," I managed. I followed Natasha into a drawing room with striped wallpaper and bureaux- style desks, licking at my wounded palm. "Tavian!" I heard behind me, "have some bloody manners, will you? Don't suck it out of the carp - " The door slammed with a thick thump and Natasha stood before me, hands on her hips. She had the manner of a wise old pixie and it made her almost as nerve- wracking as the twins. "They've done it again." She stopped to rub her eyes beneath wire-framed glasses. "They've hired another human. Christ." "But - but all the staff are human," I protested, "aren't they...?" "Normally. Humans aren't cut out for _this_ job, poppet." She shoved past me and clicked her fingers. "We've been through three in six months." I shivered as I followed her into another corridor. "What happened to them?" "Went mad," she sighed. "Absolutely batty." "I thought you were going to say they were eaten," I laughed nervously. "That too." I swallowed dry air. The corridor grew busier. We started to pass other members of staff in the Gorby uniform of charcoal skirts and trousers with pale apple-green shirts. They carried tea trays, stacks of files; two were carting a huge roll of plastic sheeting and we had to squidge past. We passed linen cupboards, a games room, a home cinema. Another room was decked out with large plasma screens and dotted with laptops; the assistant who I'd seen in the waiting room was barking down a phone. Newsreel clips played on the TV screens; _Tell us, Tavian_, said the reporter as she thrust a microphone into his uninterested face, _why did your kind choose January of 2009 to uprise?_ He narrowed his eyes. _Had to, before they made another Twilight film._ Finally, we reached an ancient kitchen with aged pine units and oiled worktops. A red Aga occupied half of one wall beneath the chimney breast, and antique crockery sat in dusty plate racks. It smelt like lavender and thyme. It was definitely a departure from the little pub kitchen I was used to. "Scrubs up well, doesn't it?" said Natasha. I stood against the island in the middle, stroking a shiny red apple in the fruit bowl and gazing out into the herb garden where chives shivered in the breeze. "It's gorgeous." "This is yours, of course," she explained, throwing open various cupboards so I could see the stacked flour bags and reams of spices. "We have our own kitchen in the servants' quarters." Quarters? When were we, 1814? "So what do they, you know...eat?" I asked. "The twins? It varies. They get through a lot of Frosties, generally help themselves. I've often caught one or the other with his head in the fridge at two in the morning." She shook her head in mild disapproval. "They'll tell you what they want to eat in the evenings but as a rule, always make extra potatoes on a roast. They love them cold." "So do I," I smiled, forgetting who I was sympathising with. "Not that I'd pick. Obviously." "Come on." She beckoned me into a corner; I saw the door lead to a narrow hall. "Walk-in fridges are kept down here, dry stores, that kind of thing. Entrance to the wine cellar and the Pot." The Pot...? Then she flung open the glossy steel doors to the fridges and I peered in over her shoulder. Milk, yoghurts, spinach -- "We usually keep one or two chilled," Natasha said quickly, "for warmer days." I blinked furiously at what appeared to be a naked body in a transparent zip- locked bag. It was short, slightly built, long brown hair obscuring its face...a girl? "They don't smell much like that, in case you were wondering," she added. "I wasn't," I croaked. Natasha patted me on the arm. "I'll show you how we serve them. Don't worry about it yet, poppet." "I can handle it." I wanted to be sick. We left the body -- it _was_ just a body, I told myself -- in the chiller and carried on down the hall. It ended with a door made of glass and steel; its military finish was sterile and out of place. Natasha stabbed in a code before a quiet beep and a hiss of air - then, we were in. "Is this the Pot?" I ventured, not entirely sure if I wanted to know. "Yep -- this is where we leave 'em to stew." I was suddenly very aware of the half dozen CCTV cameras that lined the walls. I could already see the man crumpled in the corner of the barred cell; then I smelled him. He reeked of sour sweat. He looked up at me and smiled with crooked teeth. "Is this the new one, bitcho?" he said. "So charming," Natasha sighed. "Nice and young, eh? I'd put her on crackers." He spat into his palms and rubbed them over his knees; his saliva was copious, drizzling on to the dirty tiles. "I'd rub them on her cunt." Oh, Jesus. "Carl Worley," Natasha said in a low voice. I knew that name. He was a notorious paedophile; his trial had been on the news for weeks. Now, the vomit reached up into my throat with spindly fingers and prodded at my gag reflex. "How -- how do we --" "You've got a lot of questions. That's good." Natasha glared at leering Carl and ushered me back out again. "It's not the time, though." Carl tittered to himself as we left. "I'll be seein' you soon, darlin'! Best get me them crackers!" "Ever had any escapees?" I asked. "From the Pot? No. Not that they'd want to. Once you see those boys move..." She paused, glancing at me over her shoulder. "You'll understand." Back in the main corridor, she piled uniform and a wash bag into my outstretched hands. My mobile phone was confiscated and a shiny new iPhone presented to me, still in its box. I would have asked how, without my old numbers, I was meant to communicate with the outside world but in all honesty...being cut off was a relief. A different kind of dark. Natasha gave me a fat government handbook on dealing with vampires. I read the leaked version online months ago; it was still strange to hold a paper copy in my hands with its no-nonsense typeset and well-thumbed pages. I remembered one line in particular: _studies suggest that the creatures are still afraid of the crucifix, although evidence from the field has gleamed mixed results. Do not rely on religious iconography for your own protection._ I clasped the tattoo that snaked around the left side of my midriff and remembered how easily Bru had skewered my hand. I'm _in the field_. Oh God. "Let's see if we can find you a room," said Natasha, tugging me towards a huge staircase. I gulped as I stared upward; it went on for at least four floors. "I get a map for this place, right?" **** As much as I writhed and tossed and warmed it, I couldn't make it feel like a bed. White sheets, crisp and made to be soaked in crimson. Flat surface of an altar. Below me, monsters heaved their cold bodies and thought on the taste of my blood; throw a jar of mint sauce on the bedside table and I was truly a lamb for the slaughter. The fact that I could hear the monsters playing Rock Band on the Wii didn't do much to ease my panic. Yesterday, I was a cook at the White Lion pub; in the morning, I'd wait in the kitchen for orders to come through and pray that Carl Worley wasn't on the menu. I just wanted to roast chickens for a few days, bake biscuits for the staff (I needed them to like me). The sad little chef in me wanted to do a stock take -- one without a tick in the box for "freshly chilled corpse." I'd been planning this for the best part of a year and now I was numb. It was too surreal. Had I been a plucky novel heroine, I'd have hunted vampires down with a few bulbs of garlic and a stake called Pointy Todd, or something. I might even have a sidekick with lots of quirky quips. This wasn't a novel, though. People who killed vampires weren't heroines -- they were criminals; the only garlic I'd use would be for pasta sauce and I didn't have any friends left, let alone an assistant. The last year had been kind of hard on me...friends got in the way of my misery. Misery led me here, to this servant's bedroom with the windows as high as the ceiling and canopies thicker than carpet; to the freshly pressed uniform with the embroidered crest of a slave. My MI5 Guide to Handling Vampires was already a fifth edition and it had only existed for three years -- what use was it going to be? They were publishing new studies but they all contradicted each other, and the tabloids produced ominous little articles every day; not quite drawing attention, not quite letting the issue go. I knew what they knew -- they weren't learning anything at all. The world got kind of fucked a few years ago. I tried escaping, I did. This is plan B. There's a crucifix that tapers in black ink; it licks at my naval and blooms up towards my ribcage. Loads of people got them during the uprising -- they started as desperation and now, they're fashionable, almost. Like 'Nam scars. As for Delphie Leye? Well...I couldn't pin myself to a cross, so I figured I might as well pin one on me. **** I don't know if I remember the door creaking or I just imagined it since. It was like a groan, the slow tear of the sound; then light spewed in from the hallway and my room was full of shadows -- the tallest pouring over the foot of the bed. I jerked, pulling the sheets to my chin. "Didn't mean to wake you," said Bru. There was a nonchalant slant to his eyebrow, as if he was annoyed at having to speak at all. He was just in jeans, his hair licking at his chin and his feet bare. He had the body you'd expect for a soldier from the second century, lean and defined and boyishly triangular, though the skin looked far from smooth (I wasn't perving; I was surveying the enemy. So there). "How -- how long have you been there?" "It's a hobby of mine, this. Lurking in strange girls' bedrooms." He crossed his arms. "Not like I've got more interesting things to do, is it, boy?" A growl emerged from somewhere beside him and I held my shoulders stiff, willing them not to shudder. Then a pair of vivid blue eyes blinked and a wet black nose caught in the gloss of the moon. I pointed at the husky dog nervously. "Is he --?" "Chester? He was the one who wanted to come in, actually. Could smell something new." Chester yowled and laid his head on crossed white paws. "He's huge," I managed. "He's a werewolf." I shivered. "Oh." Bru cracked a grin far too wicked for his face. "Of course he's not a bloody werewolf." "Because that'd just be stupid." I wondered if a girl covered in a sheet, a fanged model boy and a potential werewolf were too much cliché for one room (it was that or hyperventilate). "So...if you're going to eat me, can we get it over with?" Bru cocked his head. "What makes you think I want to eat you?" "That's kind of what you do," I said. "I'm offended! I might want pancakes. Might want to make a pillow fort." He smiled at the dog. "Chester likes that idea." I used to have a quip for every occasion...nothing about this was funny, not really. Even in the dark, he was supposed to read my fear and unease like Braille beneath fingers, should be making tart comments about it and feeding off every wince. Instead, he shuffled awkwardly. "Sleeping ok?" he said. "Kind of." He tugged at a white sheet with two fingers. "Remind you of the hospital?" "I don't know what you're talking about," I muttered. He pulled it again and I took fistfuls of cotton, pinning them to my bare chest. "Read your medical records," he whispered. "Bit of a death wish, huh." "It was tempting." "Always is." I wasn't sure what he meant and I didn't want to know, either. I cleared my throat. "Can you, like, smell how afraid I am...?" "Only if you have an accident," he said wryly. "Why, am I extra imposing tonight?" "You're a vampire," I laughed, crackling beneath my nerves. Canines flashed in the darkness. "Yeah. Not a caricature." I gulped. "Do you like being afraid, Delphie?" he said. Was liking it the same as just being used to it? "No." "Huh." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "But you _are_ afraid." "Of you. Or...stuff." He smiled at the dog again, almost a little sad. " _Stuff_. Sounds ominous, Chester." "Why are you taking the pee when you could just -- you know -- " I turned my hand into a mouth and it snapped. "Nom nom nom." "It's interesting. You're interesting." He gestured to the husky. They padded towards the door and he threw me a last grin before the light swallowed him. "Besides, they took that bit out of the contract. Fuckers." Why the hell am I here?

Mom knows. She found out about a year or two ago. I don't remember exactly when. Maybe after a year of writing for Lit, I guess. I was kinda surprised at her reaction. She told me she didn't care what I write, as long as I was making money at it. Was I? Of course, I had to say no. After all, what I write and submit here isn't written for money. It's written for that other currency that's more satisfying. I write when the mood strikes, and I write to make people enjoy themselves enough to give me positive feedbacks. Of course I'm not a great writer, or else maybe I'd get more feedbacks, but I'm good enough to get some, and that makes me happy. I try to improve when I do each section, chapter, or story, but I've yet to get that coveted green E, even though several of my stories have that nice red H. I guess I just don't have the write style. Heh. But regardless, mom knows, and she's alright with it I guess, even if she wishes I would sell something I write instead of just give it away. And hey, maybe I'll eventually make myself an anthology. As I write this, Chapter 6 of The Girl is several pages long, and I am expecting Chapter 6 to be the last one. Maybe I'll send that off to a print on demand publisher or something. Who knows. Maybe it'll sell. Mom seems to be somewhat proud of my being an "officially published author". Even if my books never had any sales, and so really never "made it into print". I wrote a book on how to find your perfect mate once, but then my hard drive crashed and I lost it. Then the place I was publishing it through tightened the screws enough that I realized that I was working for them and making money for them, but never getting paid. Down went my account with them. So when I shut it down, all trace of that book was lost. Maybe I'll re-write it some day. I wrote another book on how to photograph lightning. Funny thing, photographing lightning, you'd never guess it can be as involved as all that. I started writing that as a simple guide for myself. Field notes, you know? But I ended up with a perfect bound book over the deal. And a few pictures of lightning, too. That one's still around, although the original text was also lost in that pesky hard drive crash. If you want to know where that one is, well you'll just have to find it with Google, because hey, it wouldn't be fair of me to advertise here, now would it? Or you could ask. Not like you care how to photograph lightning, anyway. That could be a pretty good reason why it's never sold a copy. I'm considering writing a book on how to find models for nude and erotic photography. That's what I have been working on finding lately, and it seems to be working, slowly but surely. I have my first nude shoot in a day or so, if nothing else goes wrong. Well, not my first, really. Technically, it's my third or fourth, or maybe fifth, but shooting my girlfriends really doesn't count because I lost all those pics – hard drive crash, you guessed it – and because I really wasn't very experienced behind a camera for all of those shoots, except maybe one of them. Some of the results from that last couple are now part of my on line gallery, in which you can also see a variety of other photographic work I have done. I'm in the process of creating a newer site with more current images that better reflect my current level of skill, and also in the process of finding models and rebuilding my portfolio. (The CD burner died before the hard drive, so I had no way to back up.) If you'd like to see the original gallery, just ask. I'll spare you the link here. Oh, and if you think you'd like to model for me, nude or not, please, let me know. But anyway, where was I? Oh yeah. So mom and I and grandpa and my uncle Mat are sitting around the dinner table one night not too long ago, and we're talking, and all of a sudden she says something about me being a writer. And Mat, who has also been a writer and editor in his day, tells us about some of what he has done. And then mom tells him that I write erotica for the web. Hmmm. I think my brain registered shock for a minute, but Mat didn't seem phased. He just nodded and the conversation went on. Grandpa, hell, I doubt he heard what she'd said. Now, Mat is a conservative Baptist Christian. I was really surprised at his muted response, but I suppose he knows that a man is driven by sex just as much as anyone else. And despite being Baptist I'm sure he has read his share of erotica in his day. He was also a photographer, and I wonder if he's ever done any nude work, but I never got around to asking before he left for China. He's an English teacher there. I'm not using his real name. But I got the impression that mom's proud of me, even if I do write what she probably thinks of as smut. And sometimes I talk to her about my quandaries over how to have a particular character act or react, or how to make a plot work in whatever way. I even told her about my incest story. We ended up getting into a pretty fascinating discussion about incest. Sorry all you fans of the subject, I only write about it. So I suppose I have a pretty cool mother after all. Dad doesn't know I write erotica, but I'm sure he'll find out sooner or later. Maybe I'll send him a copy of an anthology or something. Maybe not. And my sister, she doesn't know either. I suspect she'd be surprised, but not terribly upset. She's the liberal artistic type. I don't think either her or my dad suspect that such hot blood boils beneath my skin. I hide it well, really. Which is part of the reason I write this stuff. And that brings me to my next point, what is the difference between porn and erotica? This question is one I face not only in writing, but in photography as well. I have seen some pretty disparate definitions of pornography in my short life, let me tell you. I once did a shoot with a girl who was my girlfriend at the time's friend, and even with all her clothes on, not showing anything, her boss decided that what I had shot was pornography. Why? Because I had strategically angled myself to make her appear to have some breast where there wasn't much to show. I figured she'd appreciate it, me doing that, and she did until this guy started in on his guilt trip. When she got pregnant a few months later, she wasn't interested in modeling for me again, clothes or no. Sometimes, I'd like to give that man a piece of my mind. Her boss, I mean. From my point of view, what I had shot was a portrait. None of her breast was showing; I just chose an angle that made her appear more feminine to my eye. After all, she was barely an A cup. I can't even say as I thought it was slightly arousing, never mind erotic. Apparently, he must have thought otherwise. Now I know his definition of porn is ridiculous, but I still am not sure what the difference between porn and erotica is. I have a series called The Girl, in which there is a lot of serious sex going on, but there is also a plot and emotional interaction between the characters. I'd like to think this is erotica, but is it? I mean, I get pretty specific about what's going on when they get down to it. Is that porn? In a couple days, I'm going to be shooting a beautiful blonde girl. She's game for anything I want to shoot, and she's of age to do whatever she wants legally. When she takes her clothes off, is it art, erotica or porn? If I have her just lean against a tree and daydream while she's nude, what's that? I'm fairly certain it's not art, and not porn. It doesn't seem to me that it would even make sense to call it erotica, since she's just standing there daydreaming. She's certainly not thinking about sex, so why are you? I'm sure it's all those spermies controlling your mind, if you're a guy. I know how that goes. I'm a slave to them myself. More than I'd like to admit. But is a nude woman standing against a tree daydreaming porn? I'm fairly certain that if I were to photograph her boyfriend fucking her in the ass, that would be porn. And if she gave him a BJ and I did pics of that, it would be porn. But when does it become erotica? Is erotica the X stuff and porn is the XXX stuff? Is a woman pleasuring herself alone in her room erotica and not porn? Does that make soft core porn erotica? And if so, how can it be any core of porn? Porn is porn, and erotica is erotica, right? I know artistic nudes aren't porn. After all, the artistic part takes away the sexual, unless they're erotic art nudes. Then they mix art with sex, but somehow they're not porn. I guess it's because they're more gentle. Artistic nudes don't do anything for me, but they used to. Back when I was just a horny oversexed teenage geek with nowhere to put it but my hands. Any mention of a woman turned me on back then, even panty hose advertisements in fashion magazines. I developed a real appreciation for the curves on a woman's body back then. Now, I see art for what it is, and it holds no sexual fascination for me anymore. I can work with a woman nude and never think a sexual thought about her while I am being the photographer, if artistic nudes is my goal. From what little I have read about the laws that define pornography, it is anything that would be considered devoid of any value but for sexual arousal. I'm speaking as an American here, or if you happen to be in Canada or Mexico, or middle or South America, I suppose a more proper term would be a citizen of the United States of America. After all, America is a continent, right? But we'll stick with "American" because it's too much to type "citizen of the United States of America" all the time, so for those of you who don't like the term "American", you have my sympathies and apologies, but it just doesn't sound right to say I'm a United Statesian. So anyway, Americans are prudes, by and large. At least, in comparison to the rest of the world, from what I gather. I've never been anywhere outside the US except for Canada, and boy do you Canadians make us Americans look like prudes. I actually rather like the mature appreciation for and acceptance of human sexuality that the Canadians I have met tend to have. I wish my country had more such reasonable views. Everyone knows that if you try to hide something that's part of you, it will come out the chinks in your armor if it has to, but it will come out. Americans try their best to deny being human, and sexual beings, but it comes out. We've probably pushed it behind closed curtains and underground more than anywhere else, but it all gets done. It all comes out in the wash. We're not fooling anyone but ourselves, I think. And I think, also, that is one of the reasons Americans are so overweight. There are a myriad of reasons, to be sure, but one of them is the refusal to accept this most basic part of ourselves. There are people I know (the aforementioned boss being one of them) who weigh in the vicinity of 400 pounds because they are subconsciously terrified of sex and are working to make themselves as unattractive as possible so it'll never become an issue they have to face. Granted, that's not a common reason for being overweight in general, but among certain specific types, it is alarmingly common. I know two men who have that same problem for the same reasons. Neither has kids, and at least one is still a virgin at the age of 40-something because he's so convinced sex is evil. I have to pity them both. The wonders of a woman's body will never cease to amaze me. Even just to look at. I guess when it all comes down to it, I really should not ask what pornography is, or what erotica is, or which pictures are what, I should just do what makes me happy and ignore the naysayers. Even if they happen to be my own family and friends. Because somewhere out there, someone will see things my way. Someone will have an open mind and they will see my story for what it's supposed to be, and appreciate my photography the way I intended... regardless of what the thought police would have us believe. I only wish it were easier to stand up and walk that road by myself. Basically, I enjoy photographing the female nude because I believe that it is the greatest work of art ever created. The human body male or female is an astounding work of art, when cared for, but the female form takes the cake in my eyes. So I like photographing it because I suppose I am attempting, in my own small way, to pay homage to the incredible artwork I see in it, that no human can ever really capture or recreate. So what's your definition of porn? What do you call erotica? I'd like to know. And if you'd like to meet my camera, be sure to say hello.

My wife Pam and I were visiting Pam's sister-in-law for Christmas. Caroline was divorced from my wife's brother, but we still got on really well with her and their two daughters. The eldest, Sally, had left home and married, but the younger one, Amy, still lived at home while she attended college. When we arrived, Amy opened the door for us. Pam headed straight into the kitchen to see Caroline, leaving Amy to show me up to the guest room with our bags. "Good to see you, Uncle Tim," she said. "You too, kid. How's it feel without Sally?" "Weird. She calls and stuff, and we Facebook a couple of times a week, but it's not the same." I dropped our stuff on the bed. "Come and have a look what I've done with my room now I've got it to myself," urged Amy. I followed her across the landing. She closed the door behind us and sprawled on the bed, which was at least king-size. "Loads of room," she said, stretching her arms out to demonstrate. "Come on, try it." I must have looked a little shocked, as she grinned and said, "Nothing to be afraid of," and patted the bed beside her. "OK," I said slowly, and sat carefully right on the edge of the bed. "Properly," she urged, and grabbed my shoulders from behind so that I lost my balance. I ended up on my back across the bed, and she playfully pinned me down with her body; I tried to ignore the pressure of her breasts against my chest. She looked into my face, her expression serious. "Uncle Tim, I know I can trust you. I'd really like to spend some time getting closer to you while you're here this time." Her half-bold, half-embarrassed expression gave me a clue as to what she meant by 'getting closer'. "Well," I said, suppressing my half-shocked, half-pleased reaction, "we'll have to see what we can do." I looked at her again in a new light, and had to admit that she was turning into an attractive young woman; she had clearly chosen her fitted top to show off her still-developing but already shapely breasts, and her jeans emphasised her long, slim legs. "We'll have to be careful," I said. "We can't let Pam and your mum get the slightest idea." "Don't worry about that," she said. "Mum still treats me like a kid, and I know how to act like one. It'll be easy to find an excuse for you to have to 'look after' me, while they go off and do boring grown-up things." It turned out she was right; Pam and Caroline went off the next day to the nearest town to do last-minute Christmas shopping, planning to be out until well into the afternoon, while I agreed with a show of reluctance to 'baby- sit', and Amy grudgingly conceded that sure, it would be OK to make a jigsaw or something with Uncle Tim and that – really, Mum! – she could manage to find something for us both to have for lunch. As the car pulled out of the drive, Amy was already tugging at my hand. "How about we use the hot tub?" she said. "I'll get my swimsuit on – you brought trunks like Mum said, right?" Without waiting for an answer, she skipped up the stairs to her room to change. I followed her up and went into the guest room to find my trunks. I changed quickly, coming back out onto the landing. Amy was already there, in a bright yellow two-piece, leaning nonchalantly against the frame of her bedroom door. "Very nice," I said, appreciating her shapely figure even more in the minimal swimwear. "Come here and tell me that," she teased. I took the couple of steps over to her, and as I reached her she pulled me towards her and kissed me hard on the mouth. "That's a sample for later," she said, turning and walking down the stairs. I was sure she knew the impact she was having as I watched her barely-clad bottom swaying. I followed her to the deck outside the patio doors where the hot tub was installed. Steam was already rising from the surface of the water. "I made sure it'd be pretty warm," she said, climbing in and lowering herself to her neck in the water. I climbed in after her and sat facing her. I stretched out, and my foot touched the inside of her calf. I began to caress her lower leg with my foot, and she relaxed, closing her eyes. After a while I deliberately moved my foot upward, gently stroking the inside of her thigh with my toes, and her eyes opened again. I watched her face as my foot reached the top of her inner thigh, and one toe lightly rubbed between her legs, touching her through the thin fabric. "Mmm," she said, "I would never have thought of that." And she opened her legs wider to give me more access. I shifted position so that the ball of my foot was pressing against her, and began to caress her rhythmically. Her hands moved to her breasts, squeezing them and stroking her nipples, and I felt her begin to move her hips in time with my own movements, pressing back against me. Her movements became more urgent, and suddenly the water was rippled by her body shaking with pleasure. When she had finished, her face flushed, her chest moving up and down as she still breathed rapidly, she spoke, her voice full of emotion. "Wow, Uncle Tim, that was amazing, not like anything that's happened to me when I've just been touching myself." "Glad you liked it," I said. "Want to stay in the tub a little longer, or have you had enough of being in hot water?" She obviously got the pun, and replied, "Oh, I think we can stand to hot things up a little more, but you're right, the water is a little warm." She stood, and stepped out over the rim of the tub onto the deck. I got out too, and we walked across the deck to the patio doors, picking up towels from a stack along the way. We entered the living room, and I slid the doors shut behind us. Amy walked over to the fireplace, where a log fire was burning, and stood on the rug. "I could use some help drying off," she hinted. I went and stood behind her, wrapping my towel around her and starting to dry her. "I need to take my swimsuit off, silly," she teased. I moved back, and she reached behind her and deftly undid the fastening of her bikini top, then did the same for the bottoms, tossing both garments on the floor. "Now," she said, "do what you were doing before." I wrapped the towel round her again, and dried her off; she moved her legs apart so I could reach between them with the towel. When she was dry, I dropped the towel and moved up close behind her, putting my arms around her waist. She relaxed back against me, then said, "No fair, you still have your trunks on." She twisted in my arms and grasped the top of my trunks, pulling them down. I stepped out of them, and said, "So, you OK with what you see?" She pretended to look unsure, then grinned and said, "Of course. But it's not the first time I've seen a man with no clothes on." I paused for a moment. "Amy, can I ask, are you a virgin?" She shrugged. "There was this one guy, but to be honest it was pretty disappointing. By the time he got the condom on and got inside me, he finished almost straight away, and he didn't seem to want to do anything else for me." "I'm really sorry to hear that," I said. "Hopefully I can make it up to you a little?" "You already have," she said, her face giving away that she was thinking back to a few minutes ago in the hot tub. "Plenty more things we can try," I grinned. I moved back behind her, this time pressing my erect penis into the cleft of her buttocks and wrapping my arms around her. "Mmm," she said, "feels nice." I moved my hands up to cup her breasts, then brushed her nipples gently. She gasped, then relaxed to the feeling. I continued touching her, then kissed the nape of her neck and her shoulders. "Use your mouth on my breasts," she requested. I moved round to face her, and bent my head to her breasts, kissing around her erect nipples but not yet touching them with my mouth or tongue. She took my head in her hands and deliberately guided my mouth onto one nipple; I obediently took it into my mouth and gently caressed it with my tongue, then suckled it. I slid a hand down her stomach, over her furred mound, and lightly touched the wetness I found between her legs. I switched to the other nipple, and she gasped again, this time putting her hand on top of mine and pressing it harder against her entrance. I followed her implied suggestion, and began to slide one finger over her entrance, then onto her clitoris. Again her hand was on mine pressing my fingers more firmly against her. I began to move my hand rhythmically, and she began to breathe more rapidly, giving little moans. "I think I want your mouth there," she said between gasps. I eased her down onto the rug and bent my head between her legs. I slid a finger inside her and flickered my tongue on her clitoris. Soon I felt the rippling of her muscles around my finger and she arched against me, her moans betraying the pleasure surging through her body. She relaxed, and managed, "Wow, I didn't know I could do that twice." "Well, plenty of time to find out if you have a limit," I grinned. "But what about you?" she said. "I don't mind carrying on like this for as long as you want," I replied. "But sometime you'll want to release," she queried. "Sure, but the longer I wait, and the more times I please you, the better it feels at the end." She thought for a while, then said, "But could you come, then carry on?" "As long as it didn't involve that part of me, sure." "Then I'd like to help you next," she said with an air of decisiveness. "OK," I said, "I'd really like that. But what did you have in mind? I have condoms in my case." "Can I tell you something?" she said, seeming slightly embarrassed. "Of course." "I sometimes watch videos on the Internet, you know the kind," she said hesitantly. "That's OK," I reassured her. "Did you see something you wanted to try?" "Yes," she admitted, relieved. "I've always liked the thought of having a guy squirt his stuff all over my stomach and breasts." "Funnily enough," I said, "most guys like the thought of that too." "Great," she said. "So what's the best way to make that happen?" "Well, the most obvious way is if I go inside you, then just as I'm coming, I withdraw and it goes on you. But I think perhaps we'd better save the going inside part till later?" She thought for a moment and said, "I think you're right – but don't worry, I'm on the pill. You won't need those condoms. So what else is there?" "You can use either your hands or your mouth – or both – to make me come, then you basically aim it where you want." "OK," she said. "But you'll have to tell me as I go along what's working for you. Stand in front of me, and we'll see how we get on." I stood, and she knelt in front of me, then bent her head to take the head of my still-erect penis in her mouth. She used her tongue, hesitantly at first, then as she became accustomed to me in her mouth, more confidently, using her lips around me to give me the feeling that I really was inside her. "I'm quite close now," I gasped. She increased her pace, using her hands round my shaft as well as taking more of my length into her mouth with each thrust. I groaned, and with perfect timing she released me from her mouth and continued to use her hands on my shaft as the first spurt of fluid got her right between her breasts. She gasped, then said, "Oh!" as my second spurt splashed over one breast and began to run down. A third got her stomach. She touched the slipperiness on her stomach with one finger, and put it to her mouth. "Mmm," she said, "I like." I nodded, still breathless. "Want me to clean you up?" "OK," she said. I fetched tissues and mopped her, then darted a quick kiss on each nipple. "Wow," she said. "I think I could take a break now – you hungry? I did promise Mum I'd get us some lunch, and I don't want her to tell me off for being a bad girl." I grinned, and said, "Sure, how about some sandwiches? You need to keep your strength up if we're going to do any more of that, and so do I." Amy made sandwiches, and we took them back into the living room to eat sitting on the sofa. When we had finished, she shifted position so she was closer to me and said, "So, what shall we do next?" "I know something you'll enjoy," I said. "It's a little like what we did earlier, but a different position, and I think you'll experience the pleasure in a different way." "I'm game," she said, "where do we start?" "Easy," I said. I moved to lay on my back on the rug. "Now you come to me." Amy complied, straddling my body. I pulled her towards me, and kissed her briefly on the lips. Then I began again to kiss her breasts and use my tongue on her nipples. Soon I felt dampness against my stomach from her entrance, and she began to move her hips a little against me. "Now move upwards," I said. She did so, and soon she was positioned so that my tongue could reach between her legs. I began to stimulate her clitoris, at the same time as using my hands on her breasts and nipples. She reached behind her and found my nipples, touching them with her fingers, and as I began to be more aroused I pleasured her more intensely in turn, until again she was writhing with pleasure against my mouth. When her orgasm was complete, she met my eyes with hers and said, "I have an idea. Stay completely still; don't move." She moved back down, until I felt her wetness on my now-erect penis. She put her hand down, and carefully guided my tip against her entrance, then moved so that I slid into her. She shifted position so that I was penetrating her deeply, then became still. She smiled at me and said, "Just a taster of what it'll be like when we're ready to go all the way." Then she slowly eased off me until I was out of her, and lay on me, wrapping her arms around me and holding me close to her. "I think we ought to make some progress with the jigsaw, in case your Mum asks," I said after a while. "Definitely," she grinned, and got up. "I'll get dressed." She quickly climbed the stairs and reappeared in jeans and T-shirt, not looking as though she'd had several hours of illicit pleasure. I went to my room and dressed too, then went downstairs to find her at the dining table carefully turning all the pieces of a large jigsaw the right way up. I joined her, and started to assemble the edges. "I have an idea you might enjoy," I said, as we carried on working on the jigsaw. "Would you enjoy watching Pam and I having sex?" A glint came into her eyes. "Sure – but how will you persuade her to let me be there?" "I have a better idea. I'll make sure she can't see, and you sneak up to the door and watch round it in the dark." She grinned. "That sounds cool!" Pam and Caroline found us halfway through putting the jigsaw together when they returned, and Amy put on a great act of grudgingly acknowledging that she might have enjoyed her day, well, a little bit, Mum. We had a meal together, then I pleaded tiredness and suggested an early night. Pam followed me up the stairs and shortly we were in bed with the lights off. "Darling," I said, "seeing as we're on holiday and don't have to get up in the morning, how about..." She stretched lazily and put her hands down to lift her nightshirt over her head. She never wore panties in bed so immediately her body was accessible to me. As I took her in my arms I reflected how different she as a mature woman was to Amy; not better or worse, just different. I kissed her on the mouth, and she returned the kiss with enthusiasm, her hands moving over my body. After a while I broke the kiss, and my mouth went down to her ample, womanly breasts and I began to pleasure her erect nipples. She made a sound of enjoyment and said, "Mmm, Tim, take me our favourite way." I let her get to her knees and turn around so her back was to me. As I did so, I thought I saw a movement from the direction of the door. I glanced over, and caught the barest glimpse of a shadowy silhouette through the crack in the door, and a glint of light from Amy's eyes. So she had come. I turned back to Pam, and placed the tip of my erect penis against her entrance from behind as she positioned herself to open to me, then eased my way into her. I put one hand on a breast, and slid the other one down her stomach and began to caress her clitoris with a finger as I started to slide in and out of her. She began to moan gently, and I moved more quickly. I bent my head to her ear, so she could hear my response to what we were doing, and after only a short while – probably because I was already excited by being inside Amy, however briefly, earlier on – I reached my climax, and with a groan spent myself in her. As she felt the rush of warmth, she yielded to the persuasive touch of my finger on her clitoris and arched in her own orgasm. Still entwined, we sank to a lying position on the bed. After a few minutes my erection softened and I slipped out of her, and I held her a little longer until I could tell from her breathing that she was drifting off to sleep. "Suddenly I don't feel quite so sleepy," I said. "I think I'll go down and read for a while so I don't disturb you." She managed a half-asleep response, and I carefully slipped out of the bed and out of the door. I quietly tiptoed down the corridor to Amy's room; she had a nightlight on and smiled as she saw me enter. I sat on the edge of the bed, and she put out her hand to mine. "That was amazing," she said. "I really liked it when you kissed her, it looked really passionate and it was obviously turning her on straight away." Amy pulled the covers back as she carried on speaking; she wore nothing in bed. "Then when you started to use your mouth on her nipples, I imagined what it had felt like when you were suckling me." Amy's hand moved to her breasts and she started to brush and gently pinch her nipples, obviously to imitate the feel of my mouth on her. "Would you like me to help?" I asked. She shook her head, and continued with her fantasy. "She was ready for you really quickly, and I really like the idea of that position – you behind her so she can't see you, almost anonymous, like domination." Amy's hand moved down her stomach, over her mound, and she began to alternate sliding her finger in and out of herself, with touching her clitoris. She continued, "I bet that your finger on her clitoris felt a little like this –" she gasped, " – and to be penetrated at the same time, mmmm." She began to move her fingers on herself more quickly, more insistently, and I watched fascinated as her eyelids started to flicker, and her other hand brushed her nipples and squeezed her breasts. Her voice betrayed her nearness to orgasm as she managed, "... and when she felt you spurting inside her..." Her words tailed off as a wordless moan escaped her lips, and her whole body shook as she finally came. When the spasms of pleasure finally died down, she closed her eyes and with a smile on her face turned half onto her side. I bent and gently kissed her on the lips. "See you in the morning..." She nodded, her eyes still closed, and I slipped out of the room. I returned to my room and slid back into bed, resting my hand on Pam's hip. Then as she stirred in her sleep, I caressed her thigh and then her bottom gently. She shifted position, giving me access from behind to her entrance. My hand found wetness again, and I slipped my fingers inside her, then tentatively touched her clitoris. She shifted position again, more onto her front, parting her legs further, and I increased the intensity with which I touched her. After a surprisingly short time, she uttered the first sound I had heard her make since I returned to the room, a low moan of pleasure, and another orgasm rippled through her body. Then she drifted back to sleep. In the morning, we all discussed plans at breakfast. Amy overdid her show of reluctance when Caroline mentioned that she and Pam would be out again for the first part of the day; Caroline, embarrassed by her daughter's behaviour, took Amy out into the porch and there was the unmistakeable sound of a slap. They returned, Amy looking chastened – but with a strange glint in her eye – and Amy mumbled an apology. The two older women left shortly after that, with Amy admonished to 'be good, and do what Uncle Tim tells you.' As the car drew away, I asked, "Amy, did Caroline really hit you?" "She whacked me on the bum with the flat of her hand," she replied. "It didn't really hurt." Her eyes met mine, and her next words explained the look in her eyes when she and Pam had returned to the kitchen. "Actually, it kind of turned me on." "You're quite a kinky girl," I teased. "You like the idea of being taken from behind because it's anonymous and a bit dominating, and you get turned on when you get a slap on the bum." "You got a problem with that?" she grinned. "Me? Absolutely not!" I reassured. "Now, what would you like to do first?" "Well," she began, "I think today it would be right for us to go all the way, but..." "Yes?" I prompted. "It would be great if you could last a while when you're inside me, when we do that, so I'm guessing the best way to achieve that is for me to help you to come to start with, then later when you're ready again but can take longer, we can do it." "You certainly plan ahead," I grinned. "I like it." "OK," she said, "how do you want me to help you this time?" "One thing all men like," I said, "is to come between a girl's breasts, because it feels like being inside her but she can do different things." "I like it," she said. "That means you'd spurt on me again, right?" I nodded. "Perfect," she said enthusiastically. She slipped off her jeans, and pulled her t-shirt off over her head. "Naughty!" I said, realising she had been wearing nothing underneath. "Who was going to notice?" she dismissed with a toss of her head. "Now, what position?" "Sit on the sofa, but lean back in the corner, against the cushions," I directed. She positioned herself as I'd suggested, and I moved over to her, put my arms round her, and kissed her. My tongue gently touched her lips, then I pressed it gently inside her mouth. She responded by touching my tongue with her own. After a while she broke the kiss and said, "Now, show me how this works?" I moved up and knelt on the sofa astride her, my penis resting in her cleavage. "Do we need some lubrication?" she asked. "I know a way," I said. I put my hand between her legs, not surprised to find she was very wet, and transferred some of the slipperiness to my penis. "That'd work," she said. I began to slide my erect penis up and down between her breasts. As I'd hoped, she used her hands to push her breasts together, making it feel even more as though I was penetrating her. I moved more quickly, feeling her nipples harden against my stomach as her own arousal increased. "OK, I'm going to come," I gasped, and almost immediately the first spurt of fluid jetted from me and splashed on her throat. As I continued to spurt, she dipped her fingers into the stickiness and deliberately licked them, sucking her fingers clean. When I was fully spent, I grabbed the tissue box and wiped my penis and her throat clean. "That was nice," she confirmed. "So, I guess it's your turn," I said. "Remember, I can help you come as many times as you want before I'm ready again." "So we've done it in the hot tub – that was amazing! – and you've made me come with your tongue two different ways, and you've watched while I masturbated," she iterated. "What haven't we tried?" "Well, there's one way which is usually for when both partners want to come, but it works just as well for just one." "Show me," she said. I led her to the rug and she lay down, then I positioned myself over her in reverse, so that my head was over her breasts and her face against my chest. I began to kiss her breasts, then suckle her nipples. She parted her legs, and would have started to touch herself, but I whispered, "Wait." Then when I was satisfied I had aroused her sufficiently, I moved down so that my head was between her legs. I felt her kiss my penis and my scrotum, then gently begin to use her tongue on the base of my penis. I wrapped my arms around her legs, parting them further, then buried my mouth in her wetness, beginning to tongue her clitoris at a completely different angle to any she'd experienced before. She began to flex her hips against me, and I tightened my grip, letting her know that I was in control and that I would determine when and how long for my tongue would be touching her. The movement of her mouth against me became more insistent and less coordinated, and eventually she had to stop what she was doing as she orgasmed against me and her breathing turned to gasps of pleasure. I deliberately continued tonguing her until I was sure she was totally spent, and it would almost be becoming uncomfortable for her, then kissed her clitoris and ceased with my tongue. "Phew!" she said, "that was amazing." I released her, and lay down on the rug behind her, fitting my body against hers and embracing her tenderly, just to reassure her that after the control, almost violence, of what I'd just done, I was still gentle with her. After a while she said, "Tim?" "Hmm?" "Are you feeling ready again yet?" "Think so," I said. "Pleasuring you is the quickest way to get me back to where I need to be." "I know I said all those kinky things I liked the idea of," she said, "but for the first time, can we just do it normal? Face to face, nothing odd." "Of course," I said, squeezing her reassuringly. "I really care for you, I don't want either of us just to do this for kicks – but when you're ready for something a bit more adventurous, just let me know – I'm up for anything you want." "OK," she said. She turned in my arms, and for several minutes we just held each other. I was conscious of her gorgeous breasts against my chest, and that my penis was gradually becoming erect again and she must be able to feel that against her stomach and mound, but just for that time it didn't matter – we were close. Then she gave me a quick kiss on the mouth and moved her head down so that she could kiss my nipples, gently tonguing them. Very quickly I went from more or less erect, to rock hard and pressing almost uncomfortably against her stomach. She looked at me, and I carefully rolled us over so that she was on her back on the rug. She smiled, and parted her legs, and I flexed my hips so that the tip of my erection was against her wet entrance. I looked at her face for confirmation, and she nodded. I pressed into her slowly, and a dreamy look came into her eyes as my length slid fully into her as it had done before. But this time, I began to move inside her, angling myself carefully to put maximum pressure on her clitoris as I penetrated her. I moved slowly at first, and was rewarded with an answering flex in her hips. Then I began to increase the pace, and Amy began to pant a little at each thrust. I moved my hands down to her hips, then under her bum to give maximum control to the movement inside her. Because she'd done such a good job of my first orgasm that day, I didn't feel under any pressure to come, and it was obvious from her breathing and the flickering of her eyelids that I was bringing her close to her orgasm. I began to feel the muscles of her vagina tighten around my penis, and simultaneously the growing tension in her stomach each time our bodies moved together at the closest point of my thrusting into her. Her arms tightened against my back, and I felt her fingers digging into me harder, then her panting breaths turned into little moans, and finally into "Ohhhhhhh!" I continued to move in her, prolonging her pleasure as much as I could, then finally I yielded to the insistence of my own orgasm, surprising myself with how much I could feel myself spurting into her depths as she continued to peak. Eventually we were both totally spent, and again we held each other close. When Amy could finally speak again, her first words were, "Thank you. That was my real first time, never mind that half-hearted boy." I nodded, and pulled her head to my shoulder, hiding her eyes for a while so she would have privacy to collect her thoughts at a moment of such significance to her.

_The Amazon Combat Arena By Submissive Romantic Edited by michael-leonard_ ***** Prologue: "Julio, you've got to pull that jab back quicker or a better fighter is going to be feeding you leather," Mike shouted as he studied the two fighters in the ring. "Don't make me come in there to prove it to you." Mike was the instructor and the night manager of The Power House, a gym for boxers and those serious about fitness and improving their bodies. He'd had a reasonably successful amateur career, but when he indicated that he wanted to turn pro, Gus, his trainer and good friend, had urged him to reconsider. "Mike, you're pretty good," he said, "Probably the best student of boxing that I've ever trained; but you don't have the intensity and the tools you need to fight at the pro level. I like you too much to see you become a palooka. You'd be better off as an instructor. Teach those that have the tools and the desire to be a pro fighter; you give them the skills they need." "Mike, telephone," Angie, the owner's daughter, shouted from the doorway of the shabby business office as she hung the handset with the long stretched-out cord on a nail just to the right of the door. "Yea, this is Mike." "Mike, this is Jake. That woman you asked me to keep an eye out for is here in my gym." Momentarily, Mike was confused, but then he remembered who Jake was talking about. It had been nearly two years since he had last seen her and he had assumed that she had left the area. "Jake, keep her there; I'll be there in about ten minutes. Don't let her leave." "I don't think there's a guy in this gym that can keep her from doing what she wants to do; if she wants to leave, I for one will not stand in her way. If you want to see her you'd better hurry; she's already gone through two sparring partners, and I believe there are only two more who have signed up for her tryout." Mike practically ran into the office and hung up the phone. "Angie, I've got to go out for a couple of hours, I'll be back to close up this evening." He ran out of the office before she could mount an argument and got into his car. As he drove across town his thoughts drifted back to the first time he had met her... _____________________________ It had been a long day, he was tired and all he wanted was to finish his workout and head home. Gus came out of Jake's office and slowly walked over to the heavy bag that Mike had been pounding for the last ten minutes. "Mike, can you do me a favor. I owe Kris over at Kris' Gym a favor. I just got off the phone with her; she's got a fighter over there that needs a sparring partner. Can you drive over there a go a couple of rounds with her fighter?" "Sure Gus; tell her I'll be over in about fifteen minutes." "Great, thanks; I already did. When you get there just see Kris at the desk." Fifteen minutes later Mike was standing at the front desk, signing her liability release form. "Thanks for doing this Mike, follow me and I'll make the introductions." As they entered the boxing room, the only person Mike saw was a tall woman, shadow boxing in the far corner of the ring. He couldn't hide the look of confusion that suddenly washed over his face. "I guess Gus didn't tell you that your opponent would be a woman, did he?" "No, I guess that little piece of information just slipped his mind," Mike said sarcastically. He was about to turn to leave, when the woman in the ring walked towards him. "Come on, get your wraps and gloves and let's get it on. You're not scared are you? Afraid you'll lose to a woman? Or are you worried that you're going to hurt me? I've been boxing for years and I could probably kick the asses of most of the guys that you fight against." "Listen lady, I don't care how long you've been boxing; it's late, I'm tired, and I just want to go home. And besides, I've yet to meet the woman that can beat a man in the ring." "No you listen, Bubba; we will settle this here in the ring." Without waiting for his reply she took off her warmup jacket, headed back across the ring, and removed a pair of gloves and wraps from her bag. Mike was certainly impressed by her athletic body. At about five feet ten inches she was two inches taller than him, and probably weighed in at around one hundred fifty pounds. She was real easy on the eyes. If she wasn't so obnoxious he would have asked her to join him for a drink. Instead, knowing that he had no other choice than to indulge her; he grabbed his own gloves and wraps, and climbed into the ring. He set the alarm for two-minute rounds and they waited for the sound of the bell. He would take it easy, not wishing to hurt her and run the risk of legal trouble down the road. By the end of the first round, however, he had changed his mind about her abilities. She was no creampuff. She had hit him with several solid shots and although he probably had won the first round, she had him in trouble near the end of the round. By the end of the second round, if the fight was being judged, he would be ahead on points. But she had taken his best punches and had kept pressing forward. As he gazed across the ring, admiring the female warrior resting her arms on the top rope, he became aware that he was becoming erect, and his gym shorts failed to hide his obvious arousal. Just before the start of the next round, she shouted across the ring, "I see you enjoy hitting a woman; I hope you enjoy it as much when I beat your ass into the canvass." Near the end of the third round he caught her with a clean left hook and a solid straight right, which put her on the canvass. As he counted her out, he experienced a very satisfying orgasm. He helped her to her feet and onto a stool as she slowly recovered. She spied the wet spot on his shorts and smirked. "I see beating up a woman gets you off. Well I hope you enjoyed it, because we'll meet again someday and then we'll see if you equally enjoy getting your ass kicked." With that she stormed out of the ring, picked up her stuff and headed out the door. Mike had all but forgotten about the incident. It was more than six months later, Jake's Gym was nearly deserted and he was getting in a little more work before heading home for the night, when he heard a voice call out. "If it isn't Bubba. I told you we'd meet again; this time we'll see if you get off as much getting your ass kicked by a woman. I've been training hard since our last fight and I think it will turn out a lot different this time." Mike stood admiring her as she shed her sweats and climbed into the ring. She had looked good the last time he saw her; now she looked magnificent. Her shoulders and arms appeared thicker than before and the chunkiness around her middle had disappeared revealing a set of well-defined abs. Was it just his imagination, or did she appear to be a little taller now as well? "Same rules as before," he said as he set the timer. When the bell sounded for the first round she came out cautiously, and with a look of intense concentration. He threw a couple of jabs just feeling her out and was shocked when she rocked him with a solid right hook. She pressed her advantage for the entire first round putting him on defense fighting for his life. When the bell ended her onslaught, she walked confidently back to her corner saying, "I told you I been training hard. This time I think you're the one who's gonna end up on the canvass." The second round was no better for Mike. She proved to be a lot stronger than him, and seemed impervious to his best punches. Just before the end of the second round, she caught him in his corner and pounded away at his body, trying to bring his guard down so she could end the fight. When the bell sounded she turned and walked back to her corner. Mike just leaned back against the ropes; he had not even heard the bell over the ringing in his ears from the brutal beating he was enduring. He had recovered slightly but was still in trouble when the bell sounded for the third, and most likely final, round. Mike should have been trying to strategize how he was going to survive the next round; instead all he could think about as how desirable she was. She had a beautiful face, a fantastic set of breasts, a trim waist with well-developed abs, a solid ass and a pair of long muscular legs. She had it all. "It won't be long now. I see you're enjoying this fight as much as the last one," she taunted him, indicating the tenting of his shorts and the small wet spot that had already appeared. She forced him back into his corner with a series of solid jabs, easily penetrating his meager defense. "I think it's almost time for you to cum," she said." I'm going to keep beating you until you do." Left and right uppercuts banged into his body. He was practically out on his feet; her brutal body shots the only thing keeping him upright. "Okay, I think I want you to cum now." She threw a left jab that knocked his gloves away from his face just long enough for her to launch a perfect right hook that landed with cruel intent on his left cheek. His head twisted with the power of the punch, his legs collapsed, and he felt his body slide down the front of hers. His face moved down the valley formed by her firm breasts, down her washboard abs, and ended its slide between her muscular thighs. The aroma of her arousal was apparent, for she had orgasmed several times during the fight. Just as she stepped back allowing him to fall forward towards the mat, he felt his body being rocked by an explosive orgasm that sent cum rocketing through his still-erect cock and into his shorts. She didn't even bother to count as she removed her gloves and wraps. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself; maybe we can do this again sometime." With that she left the ring and walked out of the gym... and, seemingly, out of his life. Chapter 1 Mike came out of his day-dream just as he approached Jake's Gym. He found a parking space right in front of the place; he parked his ten year old Honda Civic and walked swiftly into the relative darkness of the old time-style, single-ring gym. Jake was there to meet him. "That her?" Mike looked up at the blonde standing in her corner. Her back was to him so he couldn't be sure. His gaze was drawn to the fighter sitting on the stool in the opposite corner. He didn't look good. His corner man was applying an ice bag to his left eye, desperately trying to bring down swelling that had all but shut the eye. There was blood running out of his nose, some of which was smeared all over his face and chest. At that point his attention was drawn back to the blonde; she had just turned around and was using the upper rope to stretch her obviously heavy muscled shoulders and arms. "Bubba, is that you? I was just thinking about you. Why don't you get changed and put on some gloves." "I just came here to talk." "Okay. This won't take long; I'll see you in a couple of minutes." It took less than a minute. The bell rang and she practically ran across the ring, catching her already-defeated opponent still in his corner. Several hard uppercuts to his ribs brought down his guard and a savage left hook sent him down to the canvass. The referee started his count as she calmly walked back to her corner, removing her gloves and wraps as she went. She was out of the ring and standing directly in front of him as the ref reached the end of his count. "So, you wanted to talk?" "Yeah, can I buy you a cup of coffee?" "Make it a beer and you got a date. Just let me wash off this blood and clean up a little first." As she turned towards the women's locker room, Mike realized that he was actual a little shaky, such was the overpowering sexuality that she possessed. She was at least three inches taller and judging from her muscularity at least thirty pounds heavier than him. Twenty minutes later, she came out of the locker room, dressed in jeans and a tight tee-shirt that did little to hide her obvious assets. Mike turned to her saying, "Since we're not dressed for the Ritz, why don't we just walk down the street to the corner bar? It's not much to look at, but the beer is ice cold and the burgers are big and juicy." "That sounds good to me," she said as she reached into her pocket and handed Jake a handful of her business cards. "Tell those guys that they passed the first audition and if they want to earn some extra money they can reach me at that number." When they reached the pub, they found themselves a corner booth and put in an order for a couple of drafts and a couple of burgers. "You know we've never been properly introduced; I'm Mike." "I'm Karla; it's a pleasure to meet you. We'll just forget about those previous encounters and start fresh. Okay?" "Alright. What was that all about back at Jake's? "I came here for a couple of reasons; first of all I'm looking for some fighters to work in my gym," she said, handing him her card. "The Amazon Combat Arena," he read. "That sounds intriguing, what's it all about?" "We promote physical combat between men and women; boxing, wrestling, and martial arts. I'm always on the lookout for new talent. There was a break in the conversation as the bartender brought over their beer. "Mmmm that's good," she sighed after a healthy swallow, "just what I needed after a good workout." "Karla, you said there was another reason why you came here today." "There is Mike; I'm also looking for a new boxing instructor. That used to be my job, but I'm just too busy to give the proper attention that the position requires. I'm ashamed to say it but, because I wasn't aware of how much one of my female fighters had improved, I put her in the ring against a novice fighter. She ended up beating him pretty badly. It's lucky for me that he's a really nice guy and accepted my apology and agreed to stay on and not sue me. "My plan was to stop by your place after I got finished at Jake's. I figured I'd see if there were any prospective fighters that I could use, but more importantly I was coming to see you." Just then their burgers came and the conversation was put on pause. "This burger is delicious and so juicy; it's almost decadent. I can imagine what my conditioning instructor would say if she knew I was eating something like this." As they ordered a second round of beers, Karla reached into her bag for an envelope and handed it to Mike. "Mike, before you open it I just want to thank you. It was you who got me into this business and showed me where the real money was to be made. Our first fight confirmed something I instinctively knew: that there was something sexual in women fighting men. Even though I lost that first fight, I was so turned-on by the end of it that I just had to get out of there before it turned into something I wasn't ready for. It was obvious that you were turned- on as well. "The second fight was the real eye opener for me. Even though you were getting your ass kicked - sorry but there's no other way to put it - you were still highly aroused, to the point where you erupted even as you were heading to the canvass." At that point Mike could feel the heat on his face. His cheeks were flushed from embarrassment. "Mike, don't be embarrassed; you can't imagine how many times I came during that fight. On the way home I began to wonder how many men - and women for that matter - would watch a mixed boxing match just for its sexual appeal alone. That's when I started to investigate the possibility of turning my fledgling gym up in the hills into a venue for showcasing females in various forms of combat with men. "When I heard about the mega-dollars that the headline boxers generate on a pay-per-view basis, I knew that's where I wanted to take my company. I sunk every penny my parents left me into this new venture. I hired a computer whiz who set up the systems, a director of photography to create the product, and about twenty men and women to provide the content. These were actual fights, both boxing and wrestling. At first we just recorded the fights and built up inventory. When I felt I had enough content, I started advertising in men's magazines, in fitness magazines, and on some porn sites. At first we sold individual fights on DVDs, then I started a monthly subscription service giving access to most of our library, with an extra pay-per view fee for our premium fights. It started slowly at first, but in the last year it's really taken off worldwide. Our current membership is over a million viewers, in addition to pay-per-view specials." "Where do I fit into this picture?" As he asked, he glanced down at the envelope inscribed with his name, "Mike Wilson". 'How did she know my name and where to find me? We just introduced ourselves a few minutes ago and the last time I fought her it was at Jake's.' Seeing the puzzled look on his face as he stared at the envelope, Karla commented. "I had you thoroughly checked-out before I came here, Mike. I don't hire just anyone for my company. I've worked too hard and invested too much money to endanger it in any way. I spoke to Gus Brown personally. He told me where to find you and gave you a glowing recommendation by the way. Go on, open it." Mike finally awoke out of his stupor, opened the envelope, and pulled out a two-page letter. It was a job offer to be the boxing instructor for the Amazon Combat Arena. What shocked him was the salary he was offered. 'That can't be right, must be a typo.' He was about to question her when Karla said, "That's not a mistake, that's your monthly salary." "Monthly? That's more than I make in a year." "I know $10,000 a month sounds like a lot, but I'm asking you to supervise and train twenty women and approximately fifteen men at any one time. Plus you'll be asked to assist the mixed martial arts instructor teaching some of her weaker strikers how to punch and how to defend against strikers. You'll also be entitled to royalties from any of the fight films that you participate in." "Fight films? "Sure. All of my employees, including myself, are regularly scheduled for fights that are added to our inventory. And when you're not fighting or training anyone, you'll be following a strict workout routine designed by our strength and nutrition coach. Basically, once you sign on, your ass is mine." "You know that part of my compensation at The Power House includes use of the apartment in the back of the gym." "You call that an apartment; I'd call it more like a closet. Don't worry; I have plenty of room in my place. All of my management team lives together in a house I own. We work together, eat together and play together." "OK, OK. Do you have a pen?" "Wonderful. Welcome aboard Mike, I'm so glad you accepted my offer." "How could I refuse? Now, I just have to give my two-week notice to my boss. He'll either ask me to stay on until he finds my replacement, or he'll fire me on the spot and tell me to move by the end of the day." "No problem. If he fires you just come to the Arena; here are the directions." After finishing their beers - and a brief disagreement over who would pay, which Mike was finally forced to concede to her will - they walked back to Jake's. They stopped next to his car and Mike offered his hand. Karla took it in hers, but instead of shaking it she pulled him into a bear-hug embrace and whispered, "Mike, I assure you: you won't regret coming to work for me." Karla then picked up her gym bag, turned, and walked down the street. Mike watched her for a moment and then unlocked his car. He was just about to pull out when a shiny black Dodge Charger Hellcat pulled up next to him, paused, and then laid a patch of rubber nearly all the way back to the bar. Chapter Two When Mike returned to the gym, he made a call to his boss. After enduring five minutes of yelling and screaming and being called an ungrateful bastard, he was told he was fired and that he should clean his stuff out of the apartment by the end of the next day. By noon the next day Mike had his clothes and personal effects in the back seat of his car and was heading out of the city. He soon found himself driving through the affluent suburbs north of the city. It took an additional half an hour for him to leave the developments behind. He almost missed his final turn, taking him off a country road and onto what turned out to be a long, tree-lined, driveway. After a thousand yards the trees thinned out and he entered a clearing. Ahead was a huge warehouse-like building; a large sign over the front door read The Amazon Combat Arena. To his left he could see a large house, which would fit in perfectly on a family farm in Iowa. Looking around the sides of the Arena, Mike could see at least a dozen small cottages. Mike parked in front of the big building and went inside in search of Karla. Once inside he was overwhelmed. It was brightly lit and had room for three professional sized rings for boxing or wrestling, plus a full-sized octagon. There were also areas with circuit training machines, treadmills and stationary bikes, free weights, heavy- and speed-bags, and matted areas for floor exercising and stretching. To his left, against one wall, he spotted a series of doorways, which he assumed led to offices. As he approached his assumption proved correct. It resembled a medical office, with a small sliding glass window next to the door. A pretty blond sat at a desk on the other side of the glass, which she slid open to greet him. "Can I help you?" "I'm here to see Karla. My name is Mike Wilson." "Mike, Karla told us to expect you. Come on in." When Mike reached for the door handle he heard a buzzing and the clank of a lock snapping free. Entering the office he was again impressed over the crisp clean profession décor of the reception area. "Have a seat, Mike, Karla will be out in a couple of minutes." Before Mike took a seat he scanned the rest of the office, besides the receptionist there were two other people visible. One was a small, nerdy looking guy, who was busy pounding away on a keyboard, only occasionally glancing at first one screen and then the other screen perched in front of him. The other person, a cute brunette, sat at her desk. There were two large monitors mounted on a frame on one corner of her desk. A remote keyboard sat in her lap as she leaned back in her oversized chair typing furiously. After only a minute, Karla emerged and said, "Mike, it's good to see you again. Come on in, I've got some papers for you to sign and then I'll give you a tour of our facilities." He followed her as she entered her office. He had to chuckle as he read the back of her tee-shirt. It was a picture of a heavily muscled female boxer, standing over an equally strong looking male who had obviously been severely beaten by the female. The quote over the picture read, "A hard man is good to beat". She went around her desk and sat across from him. Pulling out two copies of an employment contract, she said, "Read it if you want but basically it formalizes the offer sheet we already discussed. You'll be getting the winner's royalty rate, 10%, on all videos you participate in; in those in which you act as referee, you get 1%. Your salary will be $10,000 a month, plus medical coverage, plus two weeks vacation, ten holidays, and room and board." For Mike it was a no brainer; taking the offered pen, he signed both copies. Karla, in turn, signed both copies, handed him one for his files, and kept one copy for herself. "Welcome aboard, Mike. I think, for the most part, you're going to enjoy working here. If you keep an open mind, train hard, and obey the rules you'll make a lot of money and be around for a long time. Now come on lets walk around; I'll introduce you to the rest of the crew." In the outer office, they walked up to each of the employees. "This is Ira, he's our accountant. He's in charge of payroll and royalties. Ira, this is Mike, he's our new Boxing Instructor. "Pleased to meet you Mike. When you get done with your tour, please come see me; I have a bunch of employment forms for you to fill out." "Over here is Cathy; she's our computer guru. She's in charge of cyber- security and her rules are to be followed without question. Our computers are our life blood, and the most vulnerable part of our business." The small brunette looked up from her keyboard. "Hi Mike, I'm looking forward to working with you." Mike was impressed with the firmness of her grip. He thought to himself,'she maybe petite, but she certainly appears to be athletically built'. "And this is Linda. She's our receptionist and my personal administrative assistant. Linda keeps me grounded and on my toes at all times." Getting up from her chair, Linda extended her hand in greeting. "It's good to finally meet you Mike. Karla has been telling us all about you; it's good to have a face to go along with the stories." Mike was a little overwhelmed by the sheer size of the woman; she was at least six feet tall, but it was her arms and shoulders that impressed him the most, both of which were much bigger than his own. Karla took him by the arm and steered him out the door and into the gym. "Linda is one of our best wrestlers; her videos are best-sellers in that category." "She's one of your wrestlers?" "Sure, all of our employees, office personnel included, are also fighters. All except Ira that is; I've been trying to get him into the ring but so far he's refused. Every time I confront him with it, he gives me the same response: 'You need me both physically and mentally at my best. You wouldn't want me paying a vender more than he's entitled to, or an employee more than they're due. If I get into the ring with one of your Amazons there's no limit as to how badly I could get hurt; maybe permanently mentally impaired.'" "I know he's right; but I'd still like to get my arms around him and just squeeze." "Wait... not box him." "Heavens no! I could kill him if I boxed him. Lately I've been doing a lot more wrestling than boxing, it makes for better videos." By now, they were in the gym and Karla began the tour. "Over here we have several training rings. They are also used for taping purposes. We basically tape all fights, thereby adding to our inventory. By having more than one ring we can tape a fight and still have ring time available for training matches." As they passed the second of the rings, Mike glanced over to what appeared to be a strength training area. Two women were working out. One was on the bench and one was spotting her. Even at this distance he could come to two conclusions; one, that both women were beautiful and extremely well built; two, that they were unbelievably strong. "Come on Debbie, concentrate. Last one; you can do it. Push." The woman on the bench let out a blood-curdling scream as she forced the bar off her chest and, slowly but surely, extended her arms. When she had them fully extended the redhead helped her move the bar back to the rack. "Way to go Deb! 435 pounds; looks like we're tied again." 'Jeez, that's more than twice my best,' Mike thought. Karla had continued walking so Mike had to catch up. As he did, he glanced towards the other side of the gym. There was a group of guys working out at a similarly equipped strength training area. This struck him as a little odd; he certainly would have wanted to work out with the women whenever possible. He was just about to bring it up when Karla seemingly able to read his mind stated, "Those guys over there are who we gals collectively refer to as the "Washington Generals". Mike gave her a puzzled look. "You know the basketball team that always plays the Harlem Globetrotters. They always try hard but they never win. They petitioned me a while ago for their own equipment. They explained that they were only slowing things down because they had to keep removing weight when they tried to work in with the bigger of the women. I think there was more to it than that. I think there are a lot of bruised egos among the male fighters. It's bad enough that they almost always lose in the ring; they don't want to compete against the women in the training areas as well. I can understand that." They were a little more than half way into the gym when Karla pointed to a set of double doors on the left side wall. "Through those double doors are the locker rooms; the women's room is on the left, the guy's room is on the right. In between is the co-ed sunken hot tub. If I do say so myself, it's to die for after a hard fight or workout. The next five doors are the offices of our instructors: boxing, wrestling, martial arts, mixed martial-arts, and our strength instructor and doctor. " As they turned to walk the back wall of the building Mike saw two more doors and asked, "Where do those doors lead?" "In the corner is a storage room and this is a private fight room. It's where we hold our "Light Switch" matches." "Light Switch..." what's that?" "It's a wrestling match between a man and a woman that is held in private; no live audience, only a referee... and the cameras, of course." "I still don't understand." "The best way for you to understand it is to see one. I'll set you up later so you can watch one tonight if you wish." Along the other side of the back wall was an elevated ring with seating for about one hundred people. "This is the main event ring, where we stage the fights we feel will be the best. There are eight remote controlled cameras situated around the ring; our fight director can capture all the action from various angles. Many of the fights are pay-per-view live action; later she pieces together the best of the footage and creates a video for our premium members. After demand for a premium video dies down, it gets posted to the general viewing area. The winner gets ten percent of the gross, the loser five percent, and the referee gets one percent. "Well that's the end of the gym tour and I've got a lot of work to do. I'll introduce you to Truda, our doctor and strength instructor. I suggest that you listen and do everything she suggests. She really knows her stuff, and she expects complete obedience from her trainees. I'll tell you more about her when you get finished with her." They walked back past the offices; Karla opened the door and let Mike enter the room. "Truda, this is Mike Wilson, our new boxing instructor. I want you to give him a complete strength and conditioning program." "Okay, Karla, I understand," she said as she entered the main office through a door at the rear of the room. Mike was suddenly alone with Truda as Karla closed the door behind her. Truda was the biggest woman he had ever seen. She seemed to fill the doorway as she entered. She was a tall blonde; at least 6'5" with impossibly wide shoulders and thick arms. In less than three strides she crossed the room and stood directly in front of him. "Pleased to meet you, Mike." His hand all but disappeared as she closed hers around his and gently squeezed, thus establishing her dominance over him. "Sit; I have to get some information from you." She asked about a dozen questions about his weight, height, smoking, and conditioning. While she was writing down his information, Mike looked up over her shoulder at some large writing that adorned the entire side wall of the office: TRUDA: (GER.) - FIGHTING WOMAN "Tomorrow, we will start your program. I'll quantify your conditioning levels and set up a program for you so that you'll increase your strength and stamina. I'm a hard taskmaster and I expect you to work hard. If you do, you'll last a lot longer around here. I find that the turnover of the guys is a lot lower among those that improve their strength and skills. I want you to follow the diet I give you and each morning I want you to mix a measuring cup of this powder into a liter of water." She handed Mike a large plastic bottle, which Mike accepted reluctantly. "Don't worry, it's not steroids. We don't allow steroids or any other types of drugs here. In fact, as part of the contract you signed, you agreed to submit to random drug tests. The powder was developed by my father, who ships it from his estate in the Amazon rain forest in Brazil. It has been submitted to every drug-testing laboratory used by all the major sporting organizations in the country. It passes all of their standards." Suddenly, she stood and said, "I look forward to working with you." Mike gave her a puzzled look. "I'm a boxer: I look forward to training with you. I hope you can make me a better fighter." Chapter Three: Mike left Truda and returned to the main office. Linda the receptionist handed him an ID on a cloth strap to hang around his neck. "This passkey is used to get into the gym, your office, and most of the areas within the gym. It will also be your house key. Go see Ira, now; Karla will be done in a few minutes." After a few minutes signing forms for Ira, Linda called to Mike, "Mike, she's off the phone now; you can go in." "So are you all set up with Truda? What did you think of her?" "Aside from the fact that she could have been the poster child for the Aryan race?" "You don't know how close to the truth you are. Her grandparents escaped from Germany after the war, settled in Argentina, and then made their way north to Brazil. I've seen pictures of her parents. They are blond, blue eyed, extremely athletic, and look half their age." "Truda gave me a vitamin supplement that her father developed. She told me I should take it daily." "Mike, I would do what she tells you; she really knows her stuff. I'll let you in on a very big secret about the Arena. When I first inherited this land from my grandparents, all that was here was the farmhouse and a large, roofed, open-air riding arena. My grandfather bought this property with the idea of turning what was a riding camp, into a world-class training facility. Unfortunately he never got to see his plans turned into reality. I took his plans and, with the money from my trust fund, completed the basic structure. It was during the construction that we discovered that our only source of water was nearly tapped out. I was told that our only course of action was to drill a new deeper well. We had to drill nearly 1,500 feet before we broke into an aquifer. According to the drillers, the water was the purist that they had ever tested. "I hired a couple of instructors and opened the gym. At first we attracted only a few members. It was apparent that the gym could not compete with those closer to the city. What I needed was something different, something innovative, something no one else was offering. I turned the place into a training camp for women. Members stayed here, and trained here, for as long as they wanted. We had the cabins refurbished. We started seeing an increase in interest in the camp, but were still not making a profit. We had some really good people; Truda, Linda, Debbie, and Min Lee, our martial arts instructor, all came on board. Truda introduced her vitamin supplement and her strength-training program. "After several months we began to see some remarkable results. The women who were staying here began to get physically stronger, more so than those women who only worked-out here and returned home. Later, when we started the Amazon Combat Arena, we noticed that the effects were not as dramatic for the men. Truda and I are not sure what exactly is causing the increase in muscle mass that the women are experiencing. It might be the supplement, or the water, or the camp itself, or some combination of all three." "What do you mean the camp itself?" "About two years ago, we had a woman from Sedona, Arizona come here to train. She told us that she felt the same type of vortex energy here that she felt in Sedona. It seems that the Arena is built over a source of electrical energy. She referred to it as a masculine vortex; they tend to be very energizing and are perfect for increasing ones resolve and stamina. I told her not to mention anything about this vortex to anyone; the last thing I needed was a bunch of New Age Hippies hanging around the area. "That's enough talk for now. Let's get you settled in." They got into Mike's car and drove up to and around to the back of the large farmhouse. Karla guided him to a parking space under a large free-standing shelter. Besides Karla's Hellcat, there was a vintage Corvette Sting Ray, two late model Porches, a Jaguar F-Type convertible, and a Hummer H2. "Are all these yours?" "No silly, just the 'Vette and the Hellcat. The rest belong to the girls. We'll have to do something about your ride; we'll talk about a new company car tomorrow." Mike reached into the back seat

and grabbed his two duffle bags and turned to follow Karla into the house. As he turned back to lock his car he noticed the license plates on all of the cars; VLKYRI 1 thru 6. Laughing to himself, he wondered what his plate would be. Obviously, not in the same series as these; maybe BTENMAN if the rest of the women were anything like those he had already seen. Karla led him up to the second floor. There were six bedrooms on the floor. Karla's was at the head of the stairs. She turned to the left, "This is Truda's room; this is Debbie's, she's our wrestling instructor; this is Min's, she's our martial arts specialist; this is Donna's room, she's in charge of our mixed martial arts program, and this is your room. They had just walked a complete circle around the center staircase. As she opened the door of his room she continued, "Each room shares a bathroom with the room next to it; your room shares a bathroom with mine. The bathroom doors are kept open unless the room is occupied. If you see the door closed, please respect your neighbor's privacy. When you leave the bathroom make sure the doors are open. You're the first man to have a room here. I'm sure you're going to see some sights that you wouldn't normally expect to see, so try to keep an open mind. This goes for in the gym as well. We all work hard and play hard, and we employ the spoils system; to the victor goes the spoils." Mike wasn't entirely clear as to what she meant by that last statement, but he was sure it would become clear as time passed. "We eat dinner at six; after dinner we have a staff meeting, and the rest of the night is free. Oh, yeah, we have satellite TV, including access to our own web site library. After you unpack, come downstairs and I'll give you a quick tour of the first floor." ___________________________ The first floor consisted of five rooms: a large living room; a dining room; a library lined with book shelves filled with books; a large game room with several pin ball machines, a pool table and a card table; and finally a large commercial kitchen staffed by three small women. As Karla and Mike were completing their tour, three women entered the living room. "Good, I'm glad you guys are here. It's my pleasure to introduce Mike Wilson; he's our new boxing instructor. Mike this is Debbie, she's our wrestling instructor." "Hi Mike, it's a pleasure to meet you. I hope we'll get to work with each other; maybe you can show me how to improve my boxing skills." Mike was momentarily at a loss for words. Debbie was stunning; about six feet tall, with broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms. Her shoulder-length dark hair framed her face perfectly, accenting her high cheekbones and dark brown eyes. As he felt the firmness of her grip he was reminded of the strength she possessed as demonstrated by her lift he had witnessed earlier in the gym. "Pleased to meet you, Debbie; I look forward to working with you." "Mike Wilson, this is Min Lee; she's our martial arts instructor." "Hello Mike, welcome aboard." Although not as big as Debbie, Mike could tell that Min was extremely well- conditioned, and someone he would not like to anger. "Hi Mike, I'm Donna; I'm the MMA instructor. I look forward to working with you. I hope you can teach some of my students to become better strikers. After dinner, the six members of the management team sat around the table discussing the events of the day. Taking a sip of his merlot, Mike sat overwhelmed by the presence of the five female warriors, each beautiful in her own way and all physically dominant in their manner. Although they were all friendly towards him, he kept wondering if he could indeed fit in - and, more importantly, compete - with this group of Amazons. "Mike, I want you to start working with your group of male boxers tomorrow right after Truda is finished with you," Karla announced after getting his attention. "Fine. I want to assess the skill level of all of the boxers, men and women, in the next couple of weeks. I thought I'd start off by getting in the ring with each for, say, a four-round sparring session. I'd like to film each session so I can study them afterwards." "That sounds good to me. Why don't you start with the guys this week and next week you can work with the gals. I'll set up the ring time, and filming schedules." Mike glanced around the table, more than one of the women had a smile on her face and a gleam in her eye. Truda looked as if she could barely contain herself. 'Why do I feel like I'm about to step into the Roman Coliseum?' thought the self-condemned man. ____________________________ For the next couple of weeks, his days started out with Truda putting him through a series of strength and endurance tests, in order to determine his base-levels, and ways to reach his full potential. While he was on the treadmill one day, he witnessed his first male vs female wrestling match. Karla stood in the center of the ring, mike in hand, and introduced the combatants. "In this corner, standing five feet ten inches and weighing 210 pounds, Rob Hill. His opponent, standing an even six feet tall and weighing 190 pounds, the Amazon Arena's own, Linda Jones. Debbie Romano is your referee. This is a freestyle wrestling match; the best three out of five falls, there is a one hour time limit." Debbie called them to the center of the ring and gave them final instructions. The two wrestlers shook hands and returned to their respective corners. At the sound of the bell they moved towards the center of the ring, slowly circling each other, looking for an opening. Rob made the first move, sinking low attempting to capture Linda's leg. Before he could pull her leg out from under her, Linda grabbed him around his waist and, with a mighty display of strength, pulled him off his feet and threw him across her right shoulder, in an effort to place him in a back breaker hold. To his credit, Rob was able to squirm off the side of her shoulder. Unfortunately, Rob fell nearly six feet down to the canvass, landing squarely on his back. Momentarily stunned, he was unable to avoid Linda's knee-drop to his unprotected stomach, forcing most of the air from his lungs. Looking for a quick pin, Linda grabbed hold of his wrists and quickly positioned herself length-wise over his body. Dropping to her knees, Debbie slapped the canvass twice before Rob managed to lift his right shoulder off the mat. Linda used her body as a battering ram, slamming down three times in rapid succession, driving the air out of his lungs once again. Debbie started her count, reaching two again before Rob was able to lift his shoulder of the mat. From his position on the treadmill it looked to Mike more like two lovers making out than a wrestling match as Linda moved her face directly over Rob's looking directly into his eyes. Rob was so distracted by her overt sexuality and his inability to breath that he failed to notice Linda wrapping her legs over and around his. Only when he felt her feet lock onto his ankles did he fully understand the predicament that he was in. Slowly but steadily Linda began to spread her legs apart until Rob began to feel sharp twinges of pain in his knees and in his groin. With a confident smile Linda straightened her arms, pushing Rob's shoulders to the mat and arched her back forcing his legs even farther apart. Debbie reached a count of two before Rob began to scream out his submission. "I give; I give. Please make her stop!" Immediately, Linda pulled her legs back together releasing the pressure and slowly untangled her legs from his. Debbie raised Linda's hand. "Winner of the first fall, Linda. Wrestlers you have three minutes until the start of the next fall." Linda went back to her corner. There she talked with her corner person, who Mike recognized as the redhead he had observed spotting for Debbie. Both women were broad shouldered and had extremely well-muscled arms and legs. Although Linda appeared to be slightly less powerfully-built than the redhead, Mike had no doubt that she was far stronger than he was. Mike had only been here a little over a week and already he had seen five women who were obviously stronger. Three minutes went by quickly. "Fall number two; wrestle," Debbie exclaimed pointing to each of the wrestlers. Rob approached Linda cautiously. It was obvious that he was going to have to change his tactics if he was going to stand a chance against this woman. Without warning he lashed out with his foot, kicking Linda in the stomach and knocking the air out of her lungs. Grabbing a handful of hair he brought her head down as his knee made contact sending her crashing down hard on her back. It was clear to Mike that Rob had decided that his was going to win this match with brute force and to hell with the rules. Rob pulled the stunned Linda off the canvass and whipped her into the ropes. Linda's body caromed off the ropes back into the center of the ring where Rob greeted her with a knee to her gut. Fighting for breath she put up no resistance as Rob once again grabbed her arm and flung her back in the same direction. As she came off the ropes once again, she appeared defenseless as Rob again sent a knee into her unprotected stomach. Linda stood momentarily in the center of the ring, clutching at her stomach, grasping for air. Rob, sensing victory was within his grasp, pulled her arm away from her stomach and swung her around once again and sent her body with even more force back into the ropes. Mike watched, fascinated as to how this match reminded him of how, when he was a kid watching pro-wrestling and the hero would always repeat the same move twice with much success, but when he would try it a third time the villain would always reverse the momentum of the match with a well-placed foot or forearm. But this wasn't scripted and Linda appeared in real trouble. As she felt herself being launched off the ropes a third time she knew she had to do something to avoid another debilitating knee to her gut. Instead of coming off the ropes straight into the middle of the ring, she planted her foot and pivoted slightly towards Rob, who was poised there waiting to inflict more damage on her already damaged middle. With her next step, she launched her body into the air, sending her shoulder heavily into Rob's unprotected chest and him crashing down to the canvass, his head taking the brunt of the impact with the mat. Linda's body passed over his prone body coming to rest at the edge of the ring. Both wrestlers appeared to be hurt; Rob lay stunned in the center of the ring as Linda slowly clawed her way up the ropes. When she was finally standing, instead of falling on Rob to go for a pin, she staggered to her corner where she leaned heavily against the ropes trying to catch her breath and clear her head. It was clear to Mike that Linda would not be content with a mere pin of the slowly reviving Rob. No, she was going to dish out a little punishment of her own. He watched as she grabbed his arm and hauled Rob to his feet. Spinning him around, she flung him into the ropes and waited as his body came off the ropes. Rushing forward, she caught him high with her forearm, sending his body crashing to the canvass again. Smiling for the cameras, Linda held up two fingers in a V as she pulled Rob up onto his feet and once again flung his body into the ropes, this time face first. As he came off the ropes, this time backwards and back-peddling, she caught him against her chest, closed her arms around his chest, and began to squeeze. Linda's impressive arms bulged as she slowly lifted Rob off the ground forcing all the air out of his lungs and preventing them from expanding thus preventing him from getting air back into his lungs. Mike knew that Rob could not hold out much longer before he lapsed into unconsciousness. Just as Debbie approached the wrestlers to determine if Rob was indeed unconscious, Linda released her hold, but instead of allowing Rob to collapse to the canvass, she placed one hand at the back of his neck and her other in the small of his back and giving a mighty yell pressed his limp body up over her head until her arms locked in place. Mike could see that Rob's eyes were still open but he was just barely conscious as Linda began to parade around the ring proudly showing his seemingly lifeless body as her trophy to all those present, but especially for the cameras. When she completed one circuit of the ring, she turned toward the center of the ring and with a warlike scream, bent her legs and arms and launched his body into the air. It was a testament to her strength that Rob's body appeared to soar nearly two feet above her head before it crashed down to the mat with such force that the entire ring shook with the impact. Linda slowly walked over to his lifeless body, placed her foot squarely on his chest, brought her arms up into a double bicep pose, and smiled for the cameras as Debbie went through the formality of counting him pinned. She stood, lifted Linda's hand in victory and announced, "Winner of the second fall is Linda Jones. There will be a three minute recovery period before fall number three." Rob's corner man came running out of his corner and began a desperate attempt to revive the still unconscious wrestler. Several passes under his nose of an open vial of ammonia shocked his system enough to bring him back to consciousness, but he appeared to be unaware of his surroundings as his corner man dragged him back to his stool. He was still slumped in his corner when Debbie called out a ten second warning. "Fall number three; wrestle." Linda casually strolled across the ring, pushed Rob's corner man away and announced, "I'll take it from here. You'd better get out of the ring or you'll be next. Come on Robbie, time to go to school now." For the next twenty-five minutes Linda gave Rob a hands-on wrestling lesson. First she put him into a side headlock, applying just enough pressure to cause him pain, then a full-nelson, lifting him momentarily off his feet. Linda reversed her position, maintaining control of his arms while she trapped his head between her muscle thighs. At this point Rob had no idea where he was or how to make the pain to stop. If he was more aware he could have just surrendered, but all his instincts told him he had to fight. When she got bored with this hold, Linda released his arms and, grabbing hold of his hips, pulled Rob off his feet, his head still trapped between her thighs. She could have ended the match in a matter of moments if she just dropped to the mat, a modified DDT. Instead she released him, stood him up and lifted his body onto her shoulders into a standing backbreaker. She again paraded around the ring, bouncing Rob against her muscular shoulders. Rob begged to be released, so after completing one circuit of the ring Linda obliged. Unfortunately for Rob, she just let him slide off her back and he again hit the canvass. Once she had him on the mat, Linda put him in another series of debilitating holds. First, a figure-four leg vine, hyperextending his right leg at the knee; then, turning him over onto his stomach and crouching over his back with her hands locked around his chin, she rocked back onto her heels into a Camel Clutch. Rob began to moan as she put more and more pressure on his already aching back. Before he could submit, Linda released the hold causing Rob's head to fall face first to the mat. "Crab Cakes anyone?" Linda called out as she turned and grabbed hold of Rob's legs and shifting her weight backwards, she painfully arched his back once again. Linda bounced up and down a few times causing Rob to scream out in pain. Then, sensing that she'd dished out enough punishment released the hold and strutted around the ring, stopping when she reached Rob's head. Bending over she turned him over on to his back and brought him up into a sitting position. Leaning over she whispered into his ear. "I think you've learned your lesson, don't you agree? I'm going to end this now; when you wake up you'll think you've died and gone to heaven." With that she slipped her arm under his chin and locked in a perfect sleeper hold. Rob brought his hands up in a futile attempt to escape, as Debbie dropped to her knees by his side. She waited until she saw his arms drop to his sides as his eyes rolled back in their sockets. "That's it, Linda, he's out. Release him." Linda released him immediately, but instead of allowing him to fall to the canvass, she pulled his limp body into a standing position and tossed him over her shoulder into a fireman's carry and with a little help from Debbie left the ring. Mike was sure that Linda was taking him to Truda's office, but instead as she passed the door, Mike felt a strong hand grip his shoulder. "I think that's enough for today. You have a match today at 4:00; you don't want to tire yourself out." Truda whispered into his ear as they watched Linda open the door to the storage room and close it behind them." "What's she doing?" "You know we work under the spoils system here. She beat him, rather convincingly I'd say, so she's claiming her prize. Don't worry about him; he'll be fine. I was watching the whole match, he's probably really sore right now, maybe has a slight concussion, but that's about it. By tonight he'll be fine." "If you say so, you're the doctor. By the way, I haven't seen Cathy around today, is she going to make our match today?" "No, Karla told me earlier this morning that she had an emergency at home and won't be in today." "So, do you know who I'm going to fight today?" "Sure; me. See you at 4." Mike was stunned. He had hoped that his first taped fight would be with Cathy. Although in excellent shape, he saw her as far less challenging than many of the other females in his group. Truda was the largest, the strongest and, therefore, the most intimidating of his female fighters, even more intimidating than Karla since he had already fought her twice. He shrugged it off thinking, 'this is why you get the big bucks. I hope the video sells well.' Chapter Four: At five minutes to 4:00 Mike left the locker room, walking slowly to the main ring where his corner man, Jeff was waiting. Jeff was one of the more experienced of the male boxers. "How do you feel, Mike?" "Nervous. It's been a while since I actually fought anyone. Most of my fights in the last couple of years have been sparring sessions. This has the feel of professional bout. Do you have any advice for me?" "Yeah, run." "Funny." "No, seriously, run. She's big and strong, but I'm not sure about her stamina; no one has ever gotten past the second round with her. You can't hope to stand toe to toe with her. Maybe you can tire her out if you're always moving, making her come to you." "Right." He turned to see Truda come out of her office. She proudly walked to the ring as the twenty or so people who had been hanging around stood and cheered. His attention was so fixed on Truda that he failed to notice as Karla entered the ring dressed in a tight fitting referee shirt and a pair of short gym trunks. She walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulders. "Don't try to be a hero out there. If you get hurt, stay down. Don't worry about the video. Truda will carry the video; that's who most of the people are tuning in to see. You just do your best and protect yourself; I don't want to see you get hurt." Turning, she walked back to her corner, where she was handed a mike. From the center of the ring she began to speak. "Ladies and gentleman, can I have your attention please. This fight is scheduled for eight rounds. This is a special bout as both fighters are instructors here at the Amazon Combat Arena. "Introducing for the first time, our new boxing instructor. At 5' 8" and weighing 168 pounds, it is my pleasure to introduce to you, Mike Wilson." There was a fair amount of applause, whistles, and wolf calls as Mike stepped forward and waved his gloved hand at the crowd. "And in this corner, a fighter who really needs no introduction. Standing 6'5" tall and tipping the scales at 235 pounds, I give you our strength instructor and medical supervisor, the German Amazon Warrior, Truda Schmidt." Truda took two steps forward and bowed to each side of the ring and then returned to her corner where she shed her warm up jacket and brought her arms up into a double bicep pose. The muscles of her arms and shoulders grew to massive proportions, as she stared across the ring at Mike. "Don't pay attention to her; she's only trying to scare you." 'She's doing a good job. What the hell was I thinking when I agreed to this?' Mike thought as Karla called the fighters to the center of the ring. "Mike, Truda; I want a nice clean fight. When I tell you to break, you break, stop punching, and take a step back. No holding and hitting. There will be standing eight-counts at my discretion and a fighter can be saved by the bell, except for the final round. Any questions? Let's give them a good fight." Mike only partially heard Karla's instructions; he was preoccupied with the massiveness of his opponent. Truda was even more imposing in the ring than she was in her office that first day. She dressed in white shorts with leather trim and a white halter sports bra. Her short blond hair was tied into small pigtails and her piercing blue eyes seem to bore right through him. She filled Mike with mixed emotions, mainly lust and fear. The fighters touched gloves, and then returned to their respective corners. Mike was still forming his fight strategy when the bell sounded for round one. Both fighters advanced to the center of the ring, and the fight began. 'I've got to stay away from her power,' he thought as he slowly circled her, always moving to his right. 'But at this distance I'll never be able to hit her.' She fought in the classic European style, standing erect with very little movement, her huge arms close to her body with her hands held at shoulder height. Truda was content to shuffle along, biding her time, waiting for Mike to come within her range. Being nearly nine inches taller than her foe, she clearly held the advantage in reach. Suddenly Mike closed the distance between them and fired two quick jabs that landed on her right cheek. Before he could retreat fully out of her range she fired a solid left jab that pushed his glove back into his face. 'My God,' he thought, 'that felt harder than most of the clean shots I've taken during any of my previous fights.' He continued to circle to his right, giving his mind a chance to clear, but before he could launch another attack Truda took two quick steps forward closing the distance between them. Once again her tree-like left jab drove his glove into his face, followed by a straight right that caught him flush on the brow over his left eye. Mike staggered backwards and fell into the ropes. Sensing blood in the water, Truda came in for the kill. But Mike, keeping his wits about him, did the only thing he could, launching himself directly at her and clutching tightly around her body. Karla gave them a few moments to see if Truda could break free, and then yelled for them to break. She had to repeat her command when Mike, still feeling the effects of Truda's punch continued to hold on, buying precious seconds of rest. This brought a warning from Karla. "When I say break, you break; do you understand?" Karla took a quick look into his eyes and yelled, "Fight." 'I've got to get inside and stay there, otherwise she'll tear me apart.' This time as he circled her, he suddenly stopped, reversed his direction and then took three quick steps forward, ducking low below her jab, and stuck his head into her lower chest as he fired left and right hooks into her formidable abs and obliques. Mike felt like a mosquito attacking an elephant; his punches seemed to bounce off her body with no effect. The only thing he knew for sure was that at least he wasn't getting hit with that left jab. It appeared to him that her extreme muscle development was hindering her ability to throw any effective hooks to his head or his body. He could feel her hitting his shoulders and arms but they were far less effective than when she had more punching room and could extend her arms. He had found her Achilles Heel. As the bell sounded ending the first round, both fighters stopped punching and returned to their corners. Mike took a seat on his stool as Jeff applied an ice pack to his face in an effort to bring down the swelling that was beginning to form over his left eye. Truda, refused to sit, calmly leaning back against the ropes, draping her arms along the top rope. Her mind was going a mile a minute quickly analyzing how the fight was going and devising new tactics to combat her opponent's strategy. "You're doing great out there, keep it up." Jeff yelled as Mike stood waiting for the bell. As the bell sounded for round two, both fighters rushed out of their corners. Mike, determined to take advantage of Truda's weakness, immediately moved inside and began where he left off the previous round. Although they weren't doing any serious damage, his punches were beginning to annoy her; especially when he popped up and hit her in the face with a left and a right hook before dropping his attack back to her body. Before Truda could launch a counter-attack, Mike slipped back outside of her reach and began circling to his right once again. He didn't dare become predictable; that would be his downfall. Instead, looking like Joe Frazier, he stopped circling and starting bobbing and weaving as he crouched in front of her, then moving into a peek-a-boo defense, his arms crossed in front of his face, his elbows, arms and shoulders protecting his head. Truda tried to hit the moving target in front of her with lefts and rights but because of the movement and the fact that she was forced to punch downward she was missing badly, expending a lot of energy for very little reward. By the end of the round she was clearly frustrated. As Mike sat on his stool, Jeff massaged both his arms and shoulders trying to stimulate the circulation of blood to his aching limbs. "Mike, that was fantastic. She's totally frustrated. Just keep doing what you're doing and she's yours." Mike wasn't so sure. He was running out of ideas and was worried that he could only get away with what he was doing for only so long. He knew Truda had the power to take him out with either hand with just one punch. He could not make any mistakes out there. The bell for round three sounded and once again Mike started out the round circling to his right, away from her power. For the first minute he stayed away, only occasionally moving close enough to score with a quick jab and then retreat. Truda continued to advance trying to cut off the ring in an attempt to corner the quicker fighter. Trying to keep her off balance, Mike moved back inside burying his head against her chest once again. He was scoring with solid shots to her obliques when he suddenly felt her dip her right shoulder. A moment later he experienced the worst pain he had ever felt in his life as she dug a brutal right uppercut into his unprotected gut. Before he could escape he felt his right arm become trapped between her body and her left arm. Truda, smiling for the camera, hit him with a second right, this time lifting his entire body off the canvass. A third and a forth uppercut followed before Karla realized that Mike was being held. "Break, Truda; let him go. Break." Truda immediately released his arm, allowing Mike to sink to the canvass and roll on his side into a fetal position. Karla got right in Truda's face, issuing her a stern warning for holding and hitting, then turned and helped Mike to his feet. Karla gave him a standing eight count, allowing him time to recover or at least catch his breath. She put her hands on his shoulders and looked deeply into his eyes. "Do you want to quit? Don't be a hero. Are you okay?" Mike's pride would not allow himself to quit. He would go out on his shield before he quit. No, she would have to beat him, he wasn't going to quit. Reluctantly, Karla turned to Truda and yelled, "OK, Fight!" Truda moved in quickly planning to end the fight. Mike, heavily favoring his left side, moved as quickly as possible to his right off the ropes. Just as Truda cornered him, the bell sounded ending round three. Jeff jumped into the ring and guided a wobbly Mike back to his stool. As Mike sagged onto his stool Jeff placed two ice packs on his stomach and ribs. Mike tried to get as much air back into his lungs as possible, but with each breath he experienced a sharp pain in his ribs. He feared that she may have cracked one or more of his ribs on his left side. "I thought you were finished. It's a miracle that you were able to get out of that round." Mike did not reply, instead saving his strength and his breath for what he knew would be the final round. There was no way that he was going to survive this next round. He couldn't stay outside of her reach for long and he sure as hell could not take another pounding like he had just received. When the bell sounded for round four he gamely stood and walked slowly to the center of the ring. Truda, in a sign of respect for a valiant effort, raised her hands to her all but beaten foe. They touched gloves and began a slow shuffle around the ring. Mike had his left arm tucked in tight to his side in an attempt to protect his ribs. He knew it was too dangerous to stay outside, he had no left jab left to set up his right and his only hope was to get back inside and pound away with his right until the end came. He never got that opportunity. As he tried to move inside he was met with a double fisted blow to his chest. It must have looked like a shove but was in fact a legal blow with both hands. He stumbled back into the ropes, which then catapulted him back towards Truda. Mike gazed at Truda as he attempted to put up some sort of defense against what he knew was coming. What he failed to realize until it was too late, was that Truda had shifted her stance to southpaw, with her right leg in front, and that her jab would now be coming from her right hand rather than her left. With his left arm still protecting his ribs he had no defense for the straight right jab that came crashing into his face. His was only able to turn his head slightly, thus saving his nose. The punch landed solidly on his left cheek and everything turned to black. The smell of ammonia brought him back to consciousness. When he could finally focus he saw Karla on his left, the ammonia packet still in her hand, and Truda to his right. Her discarded gloves were supporting his neck and head. "Mike, Mike, can you hear me," Karla shouted at him with a very concerned look on her face. "Yeah, I can hear you, you don't have to shout. You're giving me a head-ache," he said smiling into her captivating green eyes. "Mike, follow my finger," Truda said as she tried to assess the damage that she had inflicted. After a couple of seconds she exclaimed, "Good, it looks like you don't have a concussion, but I have to run a couple more tests to be sure. I'd also like to get a couple of x-rays to check out your face and ribs, just to be sure there aren't any broken bones." To Karla she said, "Help me get him to my office so I can examine him for internal injuries." After getting him to his feet they got him out of the ring, and with each taking a side guided him across the gym, into her office and onto a rolling examination table. "Hold his shoulders in place. Mike, this is going to hurt like hell, but I have to see if there is any damage to your internal organs." Karla held him tightly to the table as Truda pushed and probed his gut. Tears began to run down the side of Mike's face as he endured the pain in silence. When she was finished, she smiled down at him as she exclaimed, "Good, there doesn't appear to be any damage other than some intense bruising. Karla, you can leave us; I just have to get a couple of x-rays, then he should be good to go." "Great fight, Mike! You did really well out there; no one has ever taken Truda to the fourth round before. Truda, can I talk to you a second?" Both women then went out in the hall. When she returned to the exam room, Truda wheeled Mike into the x-ray room. Twenty minutes later, Mike slowly entered the locker room and took a well- deserved shower. Truda was there waiting for him as he exited the locker room. "Mike I want you to eat light tonight; maybe just a cup of soup and a couple of crackers. Here are three Advil tablets. Take these now with a glass of water and go lay down. I'll check on you later tonight." His bed never looked so good when he finally made his way back to his room. As soon as his head hit the pillow he was out like a light. Nearly three hours later he was awakened by two women having a discussion in Karla's room. He guessed it was Karla and Truda. They must have forgotten that the bathroom doors were both open. "I know you won and it's your right to claim the spoils, I just want you to remember that he's mine. I'm not averse to sharing, but don't think that I'm giving up my prior claim. You can administer the sexual healing, just take it easy on him. I want him whole when you tell me he's finally ready for our bout." "Don't worry, I'll be careful. Judging by today's results, I think he'll be ready in two or three more weeks; no more than another month for sure." "Good. I don't think I can wait much longer than that." "Okay. I'm going down to the kitchen and get him a cup of soup. If I were you, I'd plan on spending the next four or five hours down stairs. You know how vocal I can get." When he heard her door close, Mike assumed that Karla had gone down stairs and slowly slid out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. Closing her bathroom door he stood assessing his body in the full-length mirror. His entire stomach was one large nasty bruise. His face didn't fare much better; his right eye was nearly closed and he had a large bruise over the left eye along the eyebrow. His left cheek was swollen and blood had already begun to accumulate under that eye as well. By tomorrow he would be sporting two Technicolor shiners. He wondered if the company provided sunglasses. Remembering the conversation he had overheard, he questioned out loud: "I wonder what this sexual healing is all about." He was about to find out. Mike heard a knock on his door. Figuring that it would take more energy than he had to get dressed, he made his way to the door and cracked it open. "Mike can I come in please." Truda entered the room carrying two cups of chicken soup. After placing the soup and two spoons on his dresser, she turned around just as Mike shut the door. "Ouch," she exclaimed. "How do you feel? Any dizziness or nausea?" "No, I just feel like I got hit by a Mack truck. I think my scalp and the soles of my feet are the only two places on my body that don't hurt." "I'm sorry I was so rough on you. I was just trying to make a good video... and to impress my new instructor." "I'll reserve my final judgment until I watch the video of the fight. But I think I can safely say that the new instructor is impressed." "Thank you. I can tell you that I was very impressed with your abilities as well. No one has ever pushed me like that before. If it wasn't for the fact that I'm so much bigger and stronger than you, I think you may have beaten me. I don't think I can do anything about you getting any bigger, but I can assure you that I'll be able to make you stronger." "You've already helped me get in the best shape of my life. I've dropped about five pounds of fat and replaced it with ten pounds of muscle." "Good, I'm happy for you. Now, let's eat before it gets cold." When he had finished his soup, Truda took his cup and spoon and placed them back on the dresser. "Now it's time for me to claim my spoils as is the right of the Victor here at the Arena. " She could see the apprehension on his face as she slipped off her robe revealing her magnificent body. Even though she was at least ten years older than him, he couldn't help but be impressed by her degree of muscularity and lack of visible fat. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle. Get those shorts off and lay on the bed. I'll do all the work, you just lay back and enjoy." When Mike dropped his shorts, his cock was already rock hard. Looking down he couldn't believe the size of his erection. His last girlfriend had measured his erection at just over six inches; now it had to be at least three inches longer and a lot thicker. She looked at the expression on his face and started to smile. "It's a side effect of the supplements we all are taking. The women get rapid increased muscle growth; you guys get increased length, girth and vigor. I guess it's a win-win for us all around. Now get on the bed before I throw you on it." Mike didn't have to be told twice. Before he could get comfortable Tr

uda was already crawling up between his legs. She grabbed his cock and stuffed as much as she could into her mouth. For the next fifteen minutes she worked her mouth over every bit of his nine-inch erection. He was rapidly approaching the point of no return and tried to pull out of her mouth. Truda would not be denied; she simply slid her hands under his butt and worked his cock in and out of her mouth. Mike moaned with pleasure as he erupted into her mouth. "Mmmmm", she cooed, and sat up, towering over him. "That was good; now it's your turn." Continuing her journey up his body, taking care to avoid his sore ribs, she finally stopped when her knees reached the sides of his head and her pussy hung just out of reach of his extended tongue. "Make me cum and drink my nectar." Reaching down she cradled his head and brought it up to her pussy. His tongue worked up and down her lips, occasionally dipping between them and invading her opening and his nose bumped her extended clit. As she inched closer and closer to her orgasm, she began to rub her pussy up and down over his entire face. Soon she could feel the heat rising up through her body as her orgasm began to rock her body. "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue, and get it all," she moaned. Suddenly a stream of clear lube shot out of her and into his mouth. He desperately tried to keep up with the flow, fearing to lose a single drop. When the stream ended he stuck his tongue into her to capture any remaining fluids. 'Hhhhm, that was good; you have a very talented tongue." Climbing off his face she made her way back until she was again straddling his hips. Guiding his still erect cock to her opening, she slowly lowered herself, relishing the feelings as his impressive tool filled her to the max. 'Oh, that's so good. I could get used to this, too bad she's already laid claim to you." Slowly at first, Truda began to raise her butt until she nearly lost her grip on him and then lowered herself again until their pelvic bones met. Again and again she repeated this maneuver as her pussy clung to him like a glove, giving them both a great deal of pleasure. When she felt his hips thrust up off the bed she increased her pace until she was slamming down on this already abused body. The bedsprings began to squeak along with her movements. When she felt that he was close to cumming, Truda clamped down over him and squeezed her internal muscles until he moaned from the pain. "Not yet, my pet. We have all night and I want you around until the end." When she was sure the crisis had passed, she started again, bringing him to the brink again, before suppressing his release. Again and again she brought him to the point of no return until he begged her to let him cum. Her orgasms were coming so close together that they appeared to be one long, never-ending earth-shattering experience. When she felt that he couldn't take any more she sat up straight, expanded her chest, brought her arms up into a double bicep pose, and whispered, "Cum for your Master," as her pussy slowly contracted around him. Mike's orgasm rocked his world. She had kept him on the brink for so long that when he finally came he felt like his body was being turned inside out. His contractions were so intense that his whole upper body pulled up off the mattress again and again until he had nothing left to give her and collapsed unconscious back onto the bed. Mike's eyes began to flutter as he slowly regained consciousness. Truda was standing over him, washcloth in hand, sensually cleaning him. "It looks like we're almost done here. Once more I think should do it," she said. She climbed back onto the bed until she was kneeling next to him. Before Mike could respond she spun around, throwing one of her massive legs over his body, and ending up facing his feet. His world shrunk until it consisted of only her magnificent back. He felt his cock lengthening in her hand, her erect nipples, hard abs, and wet pussy being slowly dragged along his body. Her legs, first one and then the other, moved over his shoulders coming to rest on either side of his head and then the exquisite feeling of his now fully erect cock being engulfed by her mouth. He knew what she wanted. Throwing his arms around her hips he lifted his head until he could reach her pussy and began to lick and probe. He knew he was pleasing her when she started gyrating on his face, offering him her extended clit. He could feel the vibrations of her moans of pleasure as her skilled tongue swirled around his sensitive head. All too soon, he was reaching his climax. He felt her legs slip behind his head, firmly forcing his face into her as she positioned her opening directly over his mouth. Their climaxes hit simultaneously, sending a torrent of bodily fluids into their partner's mouth. Mike felt her body relax over him, her full body weight pushing him down onto the mattress. Just before he began to panic due to lack of air, Truda released him from her hold and rolled over onto her side. "You were very good, Liebling. We'll have to do this again soon." Getting off the bed, she took his hand and practically dragged him to the bathroom. "Come, I want to show you something." As she turned on the light Truda guided him in front of the mirror. "How is that possible?" Mike exclaimed as he stared at his reflection. There was not a hint of the damage he had endured during their fight. The swelling was gone from his face, his black eyes were gone as well and there was no trace of the body bruises she had inflicted on him. "We call it sexual healing. We don't know how it works, but we believe it comes from the exchange of bodily fluids. It's how we can keep the guys around as long as we do. Could you imagine them staying around if they had to endure weeks of pain after each fight they had?" Chapter Five: Mike woke up late the next morning, but he felt great. He dressed quickly and hurried downstairs. As he entered the dining room, he bumped into Karla who was just finishing her breakfast. Karla gave him a stern look. "I expect my boxing instructor to give a better account of himself than I saw yesterday." Mike was taken aback for a moment and immediately went on the defensive. "With all due respect, Boss, what did you think would happen when you match a heavyweight with recent experience against an amateur middleweight who hasn't fought anyone in over two years?" He replied with more than a hint of anger in his voice. Turning towards him she suddenly broke out in a huge smile and laughingly said, "Gotcha. All kidding aside, Mike, you really did great out there. I know firsthand the power that she has. I've ended up on my back on more occasions than I care to admit to while sparring with her." "You two have fought before?" "Of course. When I first started this company, we had very few male fighters to challenge us, so Truda and I fought all the time. It was how we built up our inventory of fight videos. "By the way, I thought you'd like to know, I saw the preliminary figures on the gate for your fight with Truda. It looks like we had about half a million pay-per-view viewers at $ 9.95 per head. That puts your take at a little less than half a million dollars. Not bad for an afternoon's work." Mike was stunned. He hadn't made more than $10,000 in any year since he had graduated high school. Now she was telling him that in addition to his salary he'd be making at least half a million dollars more - and that was just from one fight. "Mike, for your next fight I'm going to challenge your reasoning as to why you lost yesterday. Your next fight will be with Cathy. Against her you'll have the overwhelming advantage in height, weight and strength. We'll see how you do." ____________________________________ Later that evening, Mike learned that his fight would take place at the end of the week. That gave him five days to prepare, as well as fulfill his duties as boxing instructor, and continue his strength training with Truda. The days flew by, and before he knew it, it was Friday afternoon. There was a good-sized crowd in the gym gathered around the main event ring as he approached. His opponent was already in the ring, dancing from side to side, as she shadow-boxed an unseen opponent. Mike entered the ring to a series of boos and cat calls from the majority of fans present. As he stood in his corner he assessed his situation. If he had really thought about it he would not have accepted this fight. He was in a no- win situation. He was at least a half a foot taller than Cathy, weighed at least fifty pounds more than her and more importantly, to everyone watching, he would be looked upon as a big bully beating on a much smaller defenseless woman. If he somehow lost to this woman he doubted that any of his trainees would ever again take him seriously. As he watched her, he couldn't help thinking that she was really cute. She had short brown hair, a cute face, and an athletic build. Her arms and legs were sleek and trim. She wore a short-sleeved cut off tee shirt that clung to her body, displaying her tiny waist and washboard abs. Her breasts appeared to be like the rest of body: perky. She was the type of girl that you would have no hesitation in bringing home for Sunday dinner to meet your parents. Karla, who once again would be acting as referee and MC, called for quiet. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the main event, scheduled for eight rounds. "In the blue corner, standing five foot eight inches tall and weighing in at 170 pounds, with a record of 0-1, Mike Wilson. "And in the red corner, standing five foot three inches tall and weighing in at one hundred ten pounds, with a record of 6-0, always a fan favorite, Cathy Collins." Karla called the fighters to the center of the ring. "You both know the rules; I want a nice clean fight. Listen to my commands and may the better fighter win. Shake hands and come out fighting." The fighters touched gloves, hers red and his blue, and retreated to their respective corners. Jeff once again was Mike's corner man. "This fight should be a cake walk compared to your last fight. Just go out there and knock her out so we can go home early tonight." Mike wasn't so sure; he had a feeling that he was being set up once again. The bell sounded for round one. Both fighters approached the center of the ring cautiously. Mike flicked out a light jab, just to establish his range to his target. Before he knew what hit him, he saw a streak of red and felt the effects of a solid right hook connecting with his jaw. It was nothing that he couldn't handle; he was just shocked at her quickness. He turned left expecting to retaliate but his quarry was no longer there. A moment later he felt a sharp pain in his right oblique as she sunk a left hook into his side. Before he could respond she was out of range, on her toes dancing and feigning in and out trying to lure him into another mistake. A moment later she was all over him, throwing lightning quick jabs and numerous combinations. In response he followed suit. They were standing toe to toe, over two solid minutes of nonstop action. Mike was constantly being hit in the face and body with shots that were more annoying than they were damaging, while his punches either bounced of her gloves or arms or worse still, nothing at all. When the bell sounded marking the end of round one, both fighters turned and walked back to their corners. Cathy stood in her corner bouncing from one foot to the other as her corner woman shouted out encouragement. Mike, on the other hand, sat on his stool taking deep breaths trying to re-oxygenate his overworked lungs. "That was the greatest first round that I have ever seen. Keep it up." Only Mike knew better; he had not landed a single punch and, although he had not been hurt by any of her punches, he doubted that he could keep up this pace for the entire fight. As the bell sound for round two, Cathy came charging out of her corner and picked up where she had left off. Mike, trying to change tactics, absorbed her onslaught as he forced her into a neutral corner. Yet even as he was wailing away with left and right hooks to her body and head, she manage to block his best punches and make him miss badly with others. It was Mike who had to retreat to the center of the ring; not that he was being hurt, but because he was already experiencing arm fatigue. By the end of the round it was Mike who had his back to the ropes as Cathy threw combinations to his head and his body. It was almost comical, when Mike brought up his gloves to protect his head; she dropped down to his body with hooks landing from both sides. When he dropped his arms to protect his body she peppered his face with lightning quick jabs and combinations off the jab. By the end of the round he was never so happy to hear the bell. As he slumped down on to his stool, Jeff, getting somewhat impatient for his fighter to do something positive yelled right in his face. "The least you could do is try to hit her at least once." "What the hell do you think I've been trying to do? I've never fought anybody this fast before." Rounds three and four were no better for Mike. By the end of the fourth round, her punches that had only stung a little at the beginning of the fight, were now causing him serious pain. What was worse, now Cathy was constantly smiling at him. It looked as if she was actually having a good time, that this was all just a game to her. In the fifth round he finally began to land some punches of his own. The reason was that she was no longer up on her toes, she was standing flat footed trading him three for one, no longer concerned over being hit. As the round ended, Mike wearily headed back to his corner. Suddenly Karla shouted out to Cathy, "I've got a thousand dollars that says Mike will make it through the next round." Mike turned and glared at Karla; she had just painted a bullseye on his forehead, and he was not happy about it. The bell sounded for round six. Mike dug deep inside for the energy and the will to fight on, knowing that Cathy was going to make every effort to end it in the sixth. The smile was gone from her face as Cathy stormed out of her corner. Both fighters stood in the center of the ring slugging it out. If it was based upon heart alone, Mike would have been declared the winner. He gave it everything he had left in him for nearly three minutes, but by the end of the round he was backed up into his corner as Cathy desperately tried to put him down for the count. Karla was just about to step between the fighters to end the slaughter when the bell sounded. "You just cost me a thousand dollars! Now I'm going to take it out of your hide." Cathy yelled as she retreated to her corner. Karla looked over Jeff's back as he applied ice packs to both sides of Mike's face with a third ice pack in the waist band of his trunks. "Mike, that's it; I'm going to call it." Karla shouted with a concerned look on her face. "There's no way you're going to win this." "Don't you dare stop this fight. I'm a fighter. If I lose, I lose standing in the ring; not sitting on my ass in my corner." Karla couldn't believe he had that kind of passion, that strength of character. She smiled as she headed back to her neutral corner. Mike was already on his feet as the bell rang for round seven. Cathy charged out of her corner. Mike was expecting her to stand toe to toe with him once again. Instead, she reverted back to dancing around him taunting him, content to hit him continuously throughout the first minute of the round. By now Mike's arms felt like lead. He couldn't raise them to protect his face. Sensing that the time was right, Cathy launched a series of lethal combinations which finally ended the fight. She had just enough time to avoid Mike's body as he sunk to his knees and pitched forward hitting the canvass face first. "Come on, get up you wimp. I haven't gotten my thousand dollars' worth yet." "That's enough Cathy; you'll get your thousand dollars. He doesn't deserve to be treated like that." Realizing that she was acting like a bully, Cathy stopped, knelt down by Mike's head, and tried to apologize. But Mike was still out, so she apologized to Karla and skipped out of the ring and into the locker room. Meanwhile Truda, as ring doctor, turned Mike onto his back and removed his mouthpiece. "She really did a number on his face; but as far as I can tell it looks like most of the damage is superficial, just a lot of cuts and bruises. I think he passed out more from sheer exhaustion rather than from any physical damage. Let's get him back to the office; I'll stitch him up and check him for a possible concussion. He'll be fine by tomorrow, especially if he gets a little TLC... if you know what I mean." "Not from you. You're one up on me already. Maybe one of the other ladies will volunteer her services." ____________________________________ Mike left Truda's office under his own power after an hour of smelling salts, ice packs and simple neurological tests. And also with six stitches to close the cut over his left eye. "It will leave a little scar; but it will add to your rugged good looks." As he entered the entrance to the locker rooms, Mike was confronted with not one but two muscular, bikini-clad beauties: Debbie the wrestling instructor, and her best friend Beth, who Mike recognized as the red-head who had been spotting for Debbie that first day Mike had been to the Arena. "Cathy sends her regrets that she couldn't be here in person, but she asked us to minister to you." With that being said, they each placed a hand under an arm and carried him back out the way he came walking past Truda's office until they came to the storeroom door. When they entered the room, Debbie closed the door and turned the dead bolt as Beth flipped on the light. The room was filled with spare parts for the rings, extra equipment, and a pile of spare mats, some of which appeared to be stained with blood. Mike stood with his back to the stack of mats as Debbie pulled the string of Beth's top allowing it fall forward off her chest baring the most perfect set of tits that he had ever seen. "Like'em," Beth asked, "they're the best that money can buy." Of course Mike liked them; they were perfectly round half globes that sat high on her massive chest topped with dark nipples that stuck out half an inch, just begging to be sucked. Debbie pulled the other string and the top fell to the floor. Now it was Beth's turn to pull some strings. They must have gone to the same doctor because Debbie's tits looked equally good and inviting. They each pulled a third string, which allowed the bottoms that they were wearing a second before to drop to the floor. Both were clean-shaven, making it impossible for Mike to determine whether their hair was natural or dyed. All he knew was that they were both exquisite. "Well what are you waiting for? Strip!" They commanded in unison. For the next three hours Mike was... muscle fucked. There was no other way to put it. These two amazon beauties simply used and abused his body in astounding ways. They tossed him around like he weighed nothing. When one wasn't riding his cock, she was riding his face. He couldn't tell you how many times he had cummed or how many times he had nearly drowned trying to keep up with the nearly constant stream of fluids coming from the woman sitting on his face. When the ladies were finally sated, they each gave him a kiss on the forehead, and then left his exhausted body, shut the light and locked the door. ____________________________________ Later that evening, as the ladies gathered around the dining room table in anticipation of their daily recap meeting, Karla noticed that Mike was not in attendance. "Where's Mike?" she asked to no one in particular. Truda answered, "I checked his room before I came down just to make sure he was feeling okay; he wasn't in his room and it looked like his bed had not been slept in." "Has anybody seen him since the fight?" "He left my office after I cleaned him up. He was fine by then; said he was going to take a shower and then pass out on his bed until dinner." Min Lee and Donna both said they hadn't seen him. Only Debbie remained silent. Sheepishly she responded, "I think I know where he is. After her fight, I met Cathy in the locker room. She asked me to take care of Mike for her, so I met Beth and asked her to help me. We thought it would be fun to double-team him. Well, we ambushed him as he entered the locker room area and brought him to Shangri-La, you know, the storage closet. We worked him over pretty good. When we left him he was sleeping like a baby. I shut the light and locked the door, figuring that he'd just sleep through the night." Karla was fuming, but she kept her calm and looking up at the clock and sighed. "Well, it's nearly nine o'clock; the maintenance people are already hard at work. You know my agreement with the Menendez sisters: the gym closes promptly at eight and they are not to be disturbed for any reason between eight and six the following morning. I suppose he'll be alright if, as you said, you locked the door and shut the light. We'll probably have to wake him tomorrow morning for breakfast." ___________________________________ Sometime around two in the morning Mike's eyes popped open. He had no clue where he was; the room was pitch black. Finally he noticed a sliver of light under what he assumed was a door. Then he remembered what had happened to him and where he was. Marveling at how good his body felt, even after his brutal sexual healing at the hands of Debbie and Beth, he stood, found the light switch and then his clothes, got dressed and left the room. The gym appeared to be deserted; only the lights over the entrance were still on. He heard laughter coming from the general area of the locker rooms and thought he could hear the low hum of the washing machine. 'It must be the cleaning crew,' he thought as he approached one of the practice rings on his way towards the front door. Suddenly he felt the impact of someone jumping on his back. Strong arms wrapped themselves under his chin, around his neck and over his head. He could feel the legs of his attacker tighten around his middle. Within moments his eyesight began to blur as he desperately tried to free himself. Mike fell to his knees and then everything faded to black. When he awoke again, he found himself flat on his back in the center of the ring. His arms and legs had been secured by ropes, one limb to each of the ring posts; and he was naked. Standing off to one side he could see three figures. When they realized that he was awake they approached him. They were females, very pretty, dressed in work uniforms obviously part of the night crew. "Please let me up, I work here." The ladies began conversing in Spanish. Mike, having grown up in Southern California had picked up a little knowledge of Spanish, but not enough to communicate with them. What he did understand didn't please him. "Since I caught him I'll go first, you two finish your work and then it will be your turn. Go!" He watched as the two left the ring; now it was only himself and the remaining woman, who calmly began to undress. When she was naked she stood over him. Mike began to yell for help, so she picked up one of his socks and sat on his chest. He clamped his mouth shut, turning his head from side to side in a valiant attempt at preventing her from silencing him. In the end she moved up his body until she had him in a school-girl pin, clamped her knees to the sides of his head and pinched his nose and covered his mouth with the sock. Mike had no other choice than to open his mouth gulping for air. The next moment the sock was shoved into his mouth. "If you're a good gringo, and promise not to yell, I'll remove the sock," she said in perfect English, "but not until I've had a little fun first. You've been told that the gym closes at eight. You broke one of Miss Karla's rules and now you must be punished." She stood, and moved backwards until she was standing between his legs. At first Mike feared that she was going to kick him in the balls and began to fight desperately against his bonds. When he felt her foot gently begin to rub up and down along his lengthening cock he calmed down. Mike studied his captor; she was smaller than he first thought. She had to be less than five feet tall and probably weighed under a hundred pounds. Yet she seemed to be solidly built. Her arms were thick, and he knew from experience that they were very strong. He assumed they were a product of hard work as much as from working out. She had a set of washboard abs and her legs were rock solid. All in all, a very desirable package under different circumstances. "I see you like my body. Wait until you meet my sisters." Then, noting the size of his erection, she exclaimed, "My you're a big one. I think you're going to have to get me really wet before I can handle something that big." Abandoning the object of her desire for the time being, she walked back up his body until her feet straddled his chest. Dropping down to her knees, she assumed the schoolgirl pin position from before. This time, however, she began to rub her pussy over his face starting from his chin and moving up until she captured his nose between her lips. Once again Mike began to panic; she stopped, knowing that he couldn't breathe. After a minute she would slide back to her starting point, pause to let him get a quick breath, and then repeat the process once again. After numerous repetitions, she looked into his eyes and seeing what she wanted to see, sat back onto his chest. "Are you going to be good?" Mike nodded his head emphatically indicating that he would. So she carefully reached into his mouth and pulled out the damp smelly sock. "Thank you," Mike whispered. "You can thank me by getting that tongue of yours working; I need to cum." She moved back over his mouth. Mike attacked her pussy with a sense of urgency. He sensed that his captors would treat him a lot better if he pleased them, and that was what he planned to do. The more he worked his tongue, the more she gyrated over his face. Just when his mouth began to ache, she grabbed hold of his hair with both hands and cried out as a torrent of fluid poured from her covering his face. When she finally recovered, she released his head, which landed on the mat with a thud. "Oh Gringo, where have you been all my life?" she said with a low laugh. "I hope you're as good with your cock as you are with your tongue." "Release me and I'll show you just how good I can be." "Sorry, no can do. You might run away before my sisters get back and I'll never hear the end of it." Moving backwards until she could grab him with her hand, she placed his cock at her entrance and, slowly and carefully, took him in, an inch or two at a time, until she had him all. "Oh, my God! I feel it all the way into my stomach," she gasped. "I've never had one so big before." She began bouncing up and down, slowly at first, but as she became more excited she began to piston her body harder and harder slamming into his body as if she were trying to drive him through the mat. Her pussy was so tight that Mike feared she would tear his cock from his body. As her orgasm rushed through her body, she let out a blood-curdling scream and collapsed onto his chest. Mike could still feel the tremors all long his cock as her internal muscles clenched rhythmically around him. He had never felt anything like it; before he knew what was happening, his own orgasm hit sending spurt after spurt of jism into her comatose body. When she regained consciousness, she moved up his body until she was looking into his eyes. "That was wonderful. It's been quite a while since we've had one of you guys in here at night; I guess you're new around here." Before he had a chance to reply she continued. "You're not finished yet; you still have to clean me." Not giving him a chance to react, she scurried up his chest until she placed had her dripping pussy directly over his face. With her knees locked alongside his head, he looked up helplessly as their combined fluids dripped out of her landing on his face. "Stick your tongue in there and get it all; clean me good." She ordered as she dropped down once again. She stayed over him, enjoying the sensation of his gloriously long tongue as it working in and around her opening until she heard the voices of her sisters. "Come on, Consuela; that's enough, it's our turn now." Reluctantly, Consuela rolled off of his body on to her back, saying, "I'm not sure I can walk right now. I'll just rest over here, while you guys have your fun." Mike looked up just in time to see her sisters walk out of the shadows and stand on either side of his head. Looking at one and then the other he decided that he couldn't tell them apart. They laughed as they responded to his unasked question, "Yes, that's right we're identical twins; I'm Maria; and I'm Anita; and you haven't experienced it all until you've gotten it from a set of identical twins." For nearly an hour they used his body for their pleasure. Not that he was complaining, it was just that his pleasure was merely a bi-product of their insatiable lust. It seemed like he was in a never-ending cycle. First one of them would ride his cock and the other would ride his face. When each had an orgasm, one would yell switch, and they would start again. He came at least three more times until - was it Maria, or Anita - proudly proclaimed, "He's done; we've fucked him dry. Let's wake Consuela; it's nearly five thirty, and we have to get out of here before they open the gym at six." "What should we do with him?" "Just leave him; they'll release him when they find him." As Consuela got to her feet, she walked over to Mike, dropped to one knee, leaned forward, and whispered in his ear, even though she knew he was sleeping. "You were very good, Gringo; why don't you come by and visit us again real soon. The four of us can have a real good time together. I'll send Karla an e-mail telling her where to find you." ______________________________________ Karla couldn't help but laugh as she read the e-mail from Consuela. Ms. Karla, We caught a prowler last night in the gym. We took extra good care of him. You'll find him tied up in ring number 2. I hope my sisters and I weren't too rough on him. He seemed to enjoy himself; I know we did. Sorry about leaving him such a mess, but we didn't have time to clean him up. Thank You, Consuela, Maria, and Anita Menendez 'I'd better get down there before Linda gets in or I'll have a full-fledged orgy on my hands. I hope the new security cameras that Cathy installed were triggered by the movement in there. I'd love to have that on video.' She hurried down to the gym and proceeded directly to ring number 2. There was Mike, naked, spread eagle, tied to the ring posts completely helpless. She could tell he was still alive by the light snoring coming from his prone body. She climbed into the ring and stood over him. 'It really is a shame to have to wake him; I could do so much with that body of his; but I just don't have the time right now. Maybe we'll revisit this situation again sometime in the future." Kneeling by his head, she gently tapped his cheek, while calling his name. "Mike, Mike, time to get up." His face glistened and his body reeked of sex. 'Oh please, if there is a God, we'll have this on video.' Mike's eyes slowly opened. Once again it took a couple of minutes before he realized where he was and what had happened to him. "Karla, it wasn't my fault, honest," he croaked out. "It all started after the fight..." "Don't worry I know the whole story," she said as she untied his arms. "I'm not mad at you, in fact I find it sort of enlightening." Mike didn't quite understand what she meant until he followed her gaze down his body realizing that he was still naked and totally exposed. "I'll let you finish up here. Afterwards, grab a shower and join us for breakfast," Karla said as she left the ring and headed back towards the exit. After a long hot shower, Mike finally made it back to his locker, which had been his original destination nearly fifteen hours earlier after his fight with Cathy. He dressed and made his way up to the house. When he entered the dining room he received a standing ovation. The whole management team was there, in addition to Cathy, who sat at the end of the table with her laptop on the table in front of her. As he took a chair and looked around the room, he sensed that something was up. Min, Donna and even Cathy were looking at him as if he were a piece of center-cut fillet mignon. With a nod from Karla, Cathy turned the lap-top around so he could watch. To his horror, there he was spread eagle in the center of the ring, two females riding him hard and a third lying motionless on her back off to the side. The video was a little grainy, but there was little doubt as to the identity of the participants. Mike fell into his seat, turned scarlet, and brought his hands to his face as the room filled with laughter and cat calls at his expense. "Mike, don't take it so hard. Cathy assures me that she can clean up the video; we'll be able to put it into our library in a couple of days." Debbie reached across the table and, pulling his hands away from his face, offered him a very sincere apology. "On behalf of myself, and I'm sure Beth as well, I'm so sorry that we left you like that. Had we known that something like this was going to happen we'd have never left you in that room. Please forgive us." Mike looked into her hypnotic brown eyes; he couldn't be mad at her. "You're forgiven; you couldn't have known." Looking over at Karla, Mike began, "Is there any chance that..." Karla shook her head, "None at all." "I didn't think so but it couldn't hurt to ask." "I'll tell you what I will do, however; since you're the only one in the video, I'll double your commission rate.' "What about the sisters?" "They'll each get the referee's share. I can't pay them too much or I'll have to hire a new maintenance company. "While I've got you all here, I just want to remind you that Anastasia will be here today for her 4 o'clock match." A collective groan filled the room as all the women voiced their displeasure. "I want you all to be civil to her. It's in all of our best interests to keep her happy. The company makes a lot of money from her videos which allows me to provide you people with a great benefit package and a lot of hidden perks." After breakfast, everyone left the table headed for the gym. Just before Mike left the room, Karla called out to him, "Not you Mike; get yourself up to bed and get a couple of hours sleep. You've got the day off today. Set your alarm; I'd like you to come to my office at 3 o'clock; I'd like to introduce you to Anastasia." "Okay, Boss. Thanks." Chapter Six: Mike's alarm went off at 2 p.m. With a moan, he got out of bed and made his way into the bathroom. After splashing some cold water on his face he finally felt wide awake. Remembering that Karla was going to introduce him to the mysterious Anastasia, he took a little more care in how he dressed for the day. Wearing a freshly cleaned and pressed pair of Khakis and a matching golf shirt, which showed off his now, thanks to Truda, extremely buff body, he walked confidently over to the gym. He entered the offices, gave his best smile and afternoon greetings to Linda and Cathy and a nod to Ira. "Is she available, she wanted to see me at three?" "Go right in Mike, she's expecting you." With a quiet knock on the door, Mike opened it and stuck his head in. "Hi Boss, You wanted to see me." "Come on in Mike; I want to go over a few things with you before she gets here." Mike took a seat in the furthest of the two guest chairs as Karla began to speak. "First of all I just wanted to add my apology for what happened last night. I should have known something was up when Truda told me you hadn't returned to your room after the fight with Cathy. I could have gone over there and gotten you out before anything happened to you. If you want, I'll keep the video off the website. But let me tell you, if Cathy can clean it up, I'm sure it's going to be one of our best sellers for a long time to come. As far as the fight yesterday, you did a great job." "Come on Karla, she beat me like a drum. And look at her; she's sixty pounds lighter than me and half a foot shorter. I should have been able to win that fight easily." "Don't be too hard

on yourself. I got you two together on purpose, because after your fight with Truda I wanted to prove a point. It's not about how much bigger you are or how much stronger you are than your opponent that really matters; it's about how much skill you have and how much heart you show that's important. Sure, in both cases I took it to the extreme; in the real world you would never be matched up against either of them. Truda is a freak of nature; she's just too big and strong to go up against anyone other than another heavyweight." "What about Cathy, according to that logic she had no business being in the same ring with me and yet you saw the results." "Pound for pound, Cathy is the best pure boxer that I have ever seen. Her reaction time is so fast that she appears to know what her opponent is going to do before he does it. I can't get her to take boxing seriously. For her it's only a game. She just loves it. If I could just get her to train seriously, to have Truda work with her to develop her upper body strength there's no telling how far she could go. When I try to talk with her, all she tells me is that her husband wouldn't approve of her fighting for real, so she doesn't tell him. Instead she tells him that she's teaching aerobic boxing to some of the office staff. She loves him so much that she's afraid that if he ever found out the truth that he would leave her." "That doesn't make any sense. What about the videos? Sooner or later her husband is going to see one of those." "Not really; we have an arrangement with her. We edit the video so that for the most part the viewer is seeing it through her eyes. When her face does come up on the screen it's shielded from view." Mike nodded that he understood. "So you see losing to her is nothing to be ashamed of. I tossed in that extra incentive because I knew it would make for a better video. Also, tomorrow is her husband's birthday and I figured she'd want to use the money to make his day extra special. Just to let you know, because she loves her husband so much, she does not claim any of her opponents under our spoils system; she always asks one of the other ladies to take her place." Just then her phone rang. When she hung up, Karla smiled. "Anastasia is here." Moments later the door opened and she entered the room. In a business-like manner, she said "You wanted to see me, Karla." "I want to introduce you to our new boxing instructor, Mike Wilson" Mike was already on his feet, trying hard not to stare. Crossing the room was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her features were perfect. She had long, nearly jet-black hair that framed her oval face, offsetting her flawless light-colored skin. Her eyes were dark, almost almond shaped, and her lips were full and inviting, but it was her height and her manner of dress that immediately caught his attention. She had to bend slightly in order to clear the door-frame as she entered the room; meaning that she had to be at least six feet eight inches tall. Mike's eyes glanced down at her feet, noting that at least four inches of that height came from her stiletto-heeled open-toe shoes. Clad in a little black dress with spaghetti straps, she looked like she was dressed for a night on the town rather than a trip to the gym. Mike immediately pegged Anastasia as a sexual predator; every fiber of her being screamed "Worship me!" 'No wonder none of the women like her,' Mike thought as she extended her hand in greeting. "My name is Anastasia; I'm very pleased to meet you, Mikhail," she said with a very noticeable Russian accent. Mike was momentarily mesmerized by the sultriness of her voice. When he finally found his voice all he could say was "Hello." Anastasia moved closer to Mike, closer than he felt comfortable with. "So you are a boxer. I don't do boxing; it is too violent for me. I much prefer wrestling; it's so much more intimate. Do you know what I mean?" All Mike could do was nod his head. He felt intimidated by this woman. Standing this close to him, he was overwhelmed by her size. Not just her height, but the width of her shoulders and the length and thickness of her arms; not to mention her sheer sexuality. As she talked to him he felt her hand caressing his chest. "Do you wrestle, Mikhail? I would love to set up a match with you sometime." Mike nearly missed the almost imperceptible shaking of Karla's head. "No, wrestling is not my thing. Sorry." "That's a pity," she said as she took a step backwards and turned back towards Karla abruptly dismissing him. "Is my opponent here yet?" "Yes, I understand he got here about an hour ago. He's probably in the locker room getting ready, which is probably what you should be doing as well." Glancing at her gold watch she replied, "You're right of course. I'll see you in the room at 4." Without even acknowledging his presence she turned and headed for the door. Mike took note of her incredibly long and sculpted legs, and the sensual swing of her firm-looking ass as she exited the room. "Okay Tiger, you can stop drooling now," Karla said with more than a hint of annoyance in her voice. Without hesitation Mike replied, "No thanks; not my type. She thinks entirely too highly of herself and would definitely be way too high-maintenance for me. I won't be anybody's lap dog." "Well, I can assure you that you're not her type, either. She's not into men at all as far as I can tell. However, before you judge her too harshly let me give you a little bit of her background. "Anastasia grew up on a small ranch in Siberia, near the Mongolian border. She lived there with her father and two older brothers. At some time in her early childhood, her mother vanished from her life. She was never told the reason why. "Up until the age of twelve, she took care of the domestic duties of the household; cooking, cleaning and doing the men's laundry. From that age forward she experienced an unusually long period of rapid growth. By the age of fourteen she was over six feet tall. Her father made her work in the fields alongside her brothers in addition to her household duties. It was soon after that that the sexual abuse began. Soon her father, and then her brothers all were taking regular turns with her. For two years she accepted their abuse... until the beatings began. "One night, after the three of them had consumed a bottle of vodka; her father came to her bed with the intention of taking his sexual pleasure with her. He apparently was unaware of how strong she had become from her field work. According to Anastasia, she killed him with her bare hands. Then she calmly walked to each of her brothers' rooms and killed them as well. In the morning she packed a bag and began the long dangerous trek eastward to the port city of Vladivostok. "Because of her natural beauty, she had little trouble exchanging sex for passage to the United States on board a cargo ship heading to Long Beach, California. She was smuggled into the country, and at the age of sixteen once again used her body - to get herself a new ID and make a living. "About two years ago, she came to me and presented her idea for a new form of video entertainment. She called it "Light Switch Matches." I was intrigued by the idea and struck a deal with her. We would split the net proceeds of any video revenue equally, in exchange for exclusive rights of her services. It's been a very lucrative arrangement for both of us. "So, don't judge her too harshly; she's had a rough life." After several moments of contemplation, Mike responded. "Okay, I understand that she's had a rough life and I'll cut her some slack. But that doesn't give her a license to be such a stuck up bitch. I have one question; what's a Light Switch Match?" Karla replied at length. "A light switch match is between a man and a woman and can best be described as a form of sexual combat. Since Anastasia created the rules, they are written from the female point of view. The object for the female is to turn the man on sexually, giving him an erection, and then, by any means available to her, making him loose it; thus the name "Light Switch". She must do this ten times in the course of the match, which has a one hour time limit. Since this is a wrestling match, she accomplishes this feat by placing him in various holds. There is a limit of how many light switches she can accomplish in any one type of hold. This makes for a better video. Anastasia is very skilled at getting guys hard, so we've had no problem in that area. The referee is the judge as to when her opponent is hard and when she has made him soft. By the way, she will only allow me to be the referee. Both combatants wear a suit made of an extremely lightweight stretchy material that clings like a layer of skin, revealing every contour underneath. The male's is made like the swimsuit that a male stripper wears where he's not allowed to show his genitalia. It has a pocket in the front for his penis, which makes it almost impossible to miss an erection. "From the man's point of view it's almost like a regular wrestling match. His goal is to either pin her shoulders to the mat for a count of three, make her surrender, or knock her out with a sleeper hold or something similar. His motivation for entering into this type of match is money. If he wins the match, or she fails to reach ten light-switches within the time limit, he gets ten thousand dollars. "There is one other rule; if the male ejaculates he's automatically disqualified. It doesn't make for a good video if she goes for this type of win so she hardly ever does it. In fact, this rule has only been used in one match. "It was about six months ago. A guy signed up for the match. Anastasia had him to the point that he was nearly helpless. She put him in hold, after hold, after hold, but could not get him hard no matter how she tried. Looking up at the clock, she panicked; with about ten minutes left in the match she placed him in a sleeper hold, and knocked him out. She stripped him of his suit, dragged him to one of the walls, sat him upright, and sat behind him. Using her long legs, she spread his wide and planted her feet on the mat holding his legs in place, so that I had an unobstructed view of his cock. She placed him in a full nelson, but then grabbed hold of his right wrist with her left hand, trapping both his arms but leaving her right arm free. She took his rather impressive looking cock in her hand and began to viciously manipulate its head between her thumb and forefinger. She did this for the next three minutes as he struggled to escape. His breathing became more erratic and he suddenly began to cry out, 'Oh God, Oh God, No, No, Please God No.' "With a series of convulsions, his whole body shook as cum rocketed out of him with just seconds left on the clock. I had no choice but to disqualify him. Anastasia released him and walked off, leaving him crying uncontrollably, curled up in fetal position there on the mat. I was able to console him enough so he could finally get his emotions under control. When I asked him how he was able to resist her and keep control of his body. He told me his heartbreaking story. "Three years earlier he had been diagnosed with prostate cancer. After listening to all of the treatment alternatives available, he chose radiation therapy. The good news he said was that the doctors were able to save his prostate; the bad news was that because of the location of the tumor, the nerves that ran along the side of his prostate that controlled his ability to get an erection had been permanently damaged. He said he hadn't had intercourse with his beautiful wife ever since. He had planned to use the money he won to supplement the ten thousand he had already saved to pay for an implant that would artificially stimulate the muscles controlling the blood flow out of his penis thus being able to get an erection with the pressing of a remote. I was so moved by his story that I asked him to see me in my office after he cleaned himself up. "By the time he came to see me, I had already written a check for him in the amount of twenty thousand dollars. "Before I gave him the check, I had a little fun with him. 'You know, you did lie to us. In the contract that you signed before the match is a clause that states you are in good health and are capable of getting an erection.' Not waiting for a response, I continued. 'Be that as it may, I've got a check here for you, consider it a consolation prize'. "When he opened the envelope and saw the amount of the check I thought he was going to start crying all over again." "That was awfully nice of you!" Mike exclaimed. "It wasn't that nice. I took it out of Anastasia's share of the proceeds from the video for being, as you put it, such a bitch." Looking at her watch, Karla exclaimed, "Come with me, I have to get to the match it's almost 4. First we'll stop in your office so I can set you up to view the match live." ______________________________ One moment Mike's computer screen was blank, then the picture suddenly came to life. The camera was fixed on Karla as she looked directly into the lens and began to speak. "Ladies and Gentlemen, you are about to witness the latest in a series of Light Switch Matches. I must warn you that this type of match is extremely sexual in nature, so if this type of entertainment offends you, please return to our home screen in the next sixty seconds for a full refund. "At this time the rules for this match are scrolling down your screen. I am the referee and the judge for this match. My rulings are impartial and cannot be reversed. Now let's meet the combatants. "In this corner wearing the white suit, standing an even six feet tall, and weighing in at a very athletic one hundred ninety eight pounds is our challenger, Chris Johnson." The screen changed to a shot of a very athletically built handsome young man. He was shaking his arms and legs to keep them loose and limber, shifting his weight from on leg to the other. He was well built, with a swimmers body. His shoulders were broad, his chest full, with a narrow waist and what appeared to be powerful legs. Mike was reasonably sure that he would be a favorite with the female viewers. The picture changed momentarily to a tight shot of his suit and now Mike was absolutely sure of it. The man was well-hung; even before the match had begun he was filling out his pocket nicely. "In the black corner, wearing all black, standing six feet four inches tall, weighing in at two hundred twenty two pounds is our undefeated champion... ANASTASIA." The camera zoomed in for a tight shot of her face. Mike noticed that she had tied back her long black hair. She was just as breathtakingly beautiful as she was in Karla's office. The camera then backed off slightly and began a slow pan downward, as she too shifted her weight from side to side trying to keep limber. When the view hit her chest, Mike could see that the material of her tube top clung to her breasts as they bounced ever so slightly, her erect nipples clearly visible. As the camera continued downward, it paused at a view of her washboard abs before continuing downward to show her bikini-type bottom. Once again the material did little to hide what was underneath. The outline of her lips was clearly visible; the term 'camel toe' immediately popped into Mike's mind. Lower still, the view was of her long dancer's legs, the muscles of her thighs clearly visible as she shifted from foot to foot. Dramatically, the camera moved back until her whole body filled the screen. The whole process was intended to be sexually arousing; Mike had, unconsciously, put his hand in his lap to adjust his growing member. Karla called the fighters to the center of the ring. "You both know the rules. This match has a sixty-minute time limit. The time, score, and status will be posted on the scoreboard," she said as she pointed to what looked like a basketball scoreboard that had been significantly altered. The time on the board's clock indicated sixty minutes in bright red lights. Along the bottom of the board was a line of white lights, none of which were lit. In the center of the board just under the time clock was a neon depiction of a man's penis which the scorekeeper began to change by flipping a switch. The depiction of the penis in red pointed upward; a moment later the color changed to blue, and the penis was pointing downward. Along with the visual change was an audio cue: an excited repeating tone for the red penis and a lower, sadder tone for the blue. The entire score board suddenly appeared in a small window that opened in the lower right corner of his screen. As Karla was giving them their final instructions, Anastasia was gazing at Chris with hooded bedroom eyes, her lips in a slight pout. This gamesmanship was having a visible effect on Chris as he stood trance-like less than three feet from this beautiful amazon. Mike wasn't even sure if he heard Karla give them their final command, "Let's have a nice clean fight," and waved them back to their corners. With a blast from the scoreboard's buzzer and the match began; the clock beginning its countdown from sixty minutes to zero. Both fighters moved cautiously to the center of the ring. Of the two, Chris looked like the more experienced wrestler. He moved easily, feigning attempts to grab one of her legs as he slowly looked for an opening. He hadn't counted on her strength and quickness. Before he could react, her long arm grasped his and pulled him into her chest, which he hit with a loud thud. Moving quickly behind him capturing his arms, she placed him in a reverse bear hug pulling up and back until his feet left the mat. She held him like this, using just enough pressure to secure him but not causing him any pain. "I love your body, so hard, so strong, what fun I could have with it," she said as she nibbled on his ear. Suddenly the red erect penis flashed on the scoreboard. The camera zeroed in on his erection, which was quite impressive. Glancing up at the scoreboard, Anastasia verified that he indeed had an erection. Suddenly Chris screamed out in pain. Mike could see the muscles in her arms and shoulders bulge as she applied more pressure to the hold. All sexual thoughts disappeared as he fought to breathe. Soon the lower tone sounded, the status changed from red to blue indicating that the light switch had been accomplished, and the first of the white lights was lit. With what appeared to be little effort, she tossed his body sideways; he stumbled until he hit the padded wall and collapsed to the floor. Mike looked at the clock, which showed less than five minutes had passed. "Come on Chris, get up; we're going to have lots more fun, the party has only just begun." Chris scrambled to his feet only to end up in her waiting arms. This time she put one arm between his legs and the other over his shoulder, lifted his body, turned, and slammed him back onto the mat. Lifting him by one arm she got him back onto his feet again, only to lift him up again and slam him back down once again. This time however, she followed him down, landing hard on his chest and forcing any air left in his lungs out with a rush. Taking his arms high over his head she pinned him to the mat. This was of no concern to Karla, because pinning him in this match was of no consequence. It was what she was doing with her lower body that mattered. Mike watched with fascination as she shifted herself directly over his supine body and began to sensually gyrate over his captured cock. From a distance it would appear that they were in the middle of a sex act, especially with Anastasia urging her supposed lover on: "Ooooo it's so big, it feels so good. That's it; give it to me hard." She moved her chest over his face and rubbed her nipples back and forth across his lips. She could feel him hardening below her and knew she had turned him on once again, so she lifted her body just enough to allow Karla to verify that. When she heard the excited tone she knew his status had changed to 'on', so she lowered her body back down, distracting him with her breasts as she snaked her legs around each of his. When she had secured the grapevine she began to move her legs apart, and placed her hands on his shoulders lifting her upper body off his. Soon the pain became unbearable, as Chris screamed, "Make her stop; make her stop!" She held her position a little longer, until she was sure the pain had turned him off, then she released the hold and came to a kneeling position between his legs. The deflated tone sounded again, the erection changed from red to blue, and a second light was lit. Not giving him a chance to recover, she straddled his body and slowly crawled towards his head. "Chris, Chris, why do you fight me so? You know you want me; why put yourself through all this pain?" She sighed in her velvety, accented voice. "Come, smell how excited I am for you." Before it registered in his pain-racked brain, she had him in a schoolgirl pin. With a quick yank of his hair she pulled his head firmly against her barely covered sex and tightened her legs locking him into place. She was sexually aroused, but it was not for him, but rather because of her control over him. The camera shot changed, allowing the viewer to see his struggles as his lower body twisted and his legs thrashed in a futile effort to escape. Soon it became clear for all to see: Chris was beginning to get hard again. His pocket began to elongate and slowly lift off his lower belly. The now familiar excited tone sounded again, and the red erection lit once again. Checking the scoreboard, an evil smile slowly came to her face. Releasing his head from between her legs, she allowed it to drop to the mat. "I see you enjoyed yourself; if you liked that then you'll love this." With a quick shuffle forward, her calves holding his head steady, she placed her ass directly onto his face. Within moments his body began to buck wildly. His hands moved to her ass trying desperately to push her off; but at over two hundred twenty pounds she was far too heavy for him to dislodge. His movements began to slow as he ran out of air and at last ceased altogether. Moments later the low tone sounded, and Anastasia rolled off his now motionless body. With a quick glance at the scoreboard she verified that she had cycled him three times in less than fifteen minutes; she was right on schedule. Anastasia walked calmly to her corner of the room and took a sip from her water bottle, adjusted her hair, and waited for Chris to rejoin her. The view changed once again to show Chris's face, which appeared to be peacefully asleep. Mike suddenly realized that Karla was wearing a wireless camera and microphone, just like the police. He watched, fascinated as Chris's eyes opened and he slowly became aware of his surroundings. The view changed again; now a long shot showing Karla backing away from his prone body as he began to roll over in an attempt to get to his feet. "I'm glad you decided to join us once again; it's time for some more fun." Anastasia quickly closed the distance between them, just as Chris made it to his feet. She hooked an arm under his, turned quickly, took a couple of steps and tossed him over her hip sending his body several feet into the air and then crashing down on to the mat. She picked him up and repeated the move back in the other direction. Picking him up a third time, she moved behind him placing him in a standing full nelson. She held him motionless for several seconds; Mike could see her deltoids bulge as she began to bear down causing Chris to moan in pain. The view changed to Chris's face, a look of fear clearly displayed for all to see. Suddenly she moved them quickly towards the camera. The viewed changed just in time to capture the impact against the padded wall. Chris absorbed the brunt of the blow; first by hitting the wall and then a split second later, her rock solid body slammed into his back. "Are you having fun yet? I know I am," she asked more for the viewers than for Chris. She moved him back to the center of the room. Mike assumed as she bent to her side that she was going to preform another body slam; instead with one arm around his neck and the other between his legs she effortlessly hoisted his body onto her shoulders into a backer breaker hold. Anastasia turned until she was facing the scoreboard, noted the time remaining and bending the arm that held his leg she began to caress his scrotum using her elbow to keep his leg in place. Her finger traced a circle around his package and then lightly along the crack of his ass. Soon her actions achieved the desired result; when she received verification of his status change she simply began to increase the pressure on his back. It only took a few seconds before the pain in his back erased any of the erotic feelings he had previously had. Looking back at the scoreboard, Anastasia saw that the status symbol had now changed to blue and, with a shrug of her shoulders, released his body and allowed it to fall to the mat. Not giving him time to recover, she turned his prone body onto his back and sat astride his stomach. At the same time she grabbed his wrists and stretched his arms over his head. Anastasia slid backwards until she could feel his cock wedged between her ass cheeks. "Chris, you're not hard yet. How can we have any fun if you keep losing your erection? Let's see if this helps." She said as she slowly began to gyrate her hips. In order to speed the process along she bent forward and began rubbing her breasts lightly across his face. Before Chris could respond, Anastasia leaped off his body, and while still controlling his arms knelt behind his head facing him. She placed a knee on each side of his head, pinning his arms to the mat and started to rub her hands down his chest and across his stomach. She left little doubt as to her ultimate goal. By this time Mike could tell that Chris was fully erect and so could Karla. A moment later the excited tone sounded and his status changed to red. As her hands touched the top of his suit, Chris tried to capture her head between his legs. His first attempt failed, but with his second try he momentarily succeeded if only for a second. "That wasn't very nice Chris; I think you are going to have to be punished." Disregarding her words he tried again. With lighting quick reflexes, Anastasia captured both of his legs and slowly pulled them towards her causing his body to bend over onto itself. An idea seemed to be forming in her mind as a sadistic smile appeared on her gorgeous face. "There once was a man from Nantucket, whose dick was so long he could..." As she pulled his legs further back, panic overcame Chris. Mike could see him trying to turn his head, but she squeezed her knees inward thus holding his head tightly in place. "Open your mouth. I said, open your mouth! If you don't open your mouth I'm going to break you in half." The screen now showed a close up on Chris's face as his erection began to poke at his tightly clenched lips. Mike could see a tear running down the side of his face as he capitulated to her demands and opened his mouth. She pushed his legs down further, forcing the head and at least two inches of his cock into his mouth which remained wide open. "Suck it. Suck it. That's a good boy," she said as he closed his lips around his cock. By adjusting the amount of pressure she maintained on his legs, she started moving his cock in and out of his mouth. "Oh Chris, that's so kinky. I think, maybe, you've done this before." Mike couldn't help but feel sorry for Chris. It was bad enough to be manhandled by this powerful woman; but to be totally humiliated for all the viewers to see was just too much. Mike didn't know if it was the obvious pain that she was inflicting on him or the humiliation he must have been feeling, but soon Chris began to soften, until he could no longer maintain contact. The down tone sounded once again and the fifth light was illuminated. Anastasia looked up at the clock; she had five cycles to her credit, half way to victory. But that last cycle had taken fifteen minutes off the clock. She had less than twenty-three minutes to complete five more cycles. She released her hold and started to get to her feet. But, she had turned her back to Chris; she didn't see the hatred in his eyes as he scrambled to his feet and charged her, knocking her onto her back. He quickly covered her body, pinning her shoulders to the mat. Mike found himself rooting for him as Karla struck the mat twice, before Anastasia could lift one of her shoulders. Before he could be thrown off her body, he tried to capture one of her legs to gain more leverage. To Chris's surprise she scissored his arm, and with a burst of strength extended her legs pulling him off her body. "I see you've finally grown a pair of balls to go along with that impressive cock." They each scrambled to their feet, but Anastasia was a little quicker; before Chris was ready to defend himself she swept him off of his feet and slammed him to the mat. Three more times she repeated the maneuver until he could barely breathe. Mike watched as the brutal beauty brought him up into a sitting position and sat down behind him. He was pretty sure what was going to come next. Sure enough, Anastasia placed her legs around his waist, and used a full nelson to capture his arms. Chris was facing directly into the camera; all of the fight had been beaten out of him. Capturing his right wrist in her left hand she had him totally incapacitated, and yet had her right hand free to stroke and caress him. In less than a minute she turned him on again. Then she tightened the leg scissors until he screamed in pain to complete the cycle. Three more times she ran him through the cycle. When she checked the clock she had nearly fifteen minutes to win the match. Still holding him in place she whispered in his ear, "I could end the match right now, but what fun would that be. So, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to give you a wrestling lesson for the next ten minutes, and then I'm going to turn you on again. If you are a good boy and get nice and hard for me, I'll tell Karla to turn off the cameras and give us a little privacy." For the next ten minutes Anastasia used her magnificent body to torture him; moving from one submission hold to another, maintaining each hold just long enough to cause Chris agonizing pain but releasing the hold before he passed out. With five minutes to go, she switched tactics, using her body as a weapon of seduction instead of destruction. Mike watched in amazement as Chris' body once again responded to her caresses in spite of the beating that he had endured. Anastasia stood and held him at arms-length proudly displaying for the viewers his rock hard cock as it pulsated with the beat of his heart. She was just about to begin the turn off process, when Chris suddenly reached out and yanked her top down, exposing her firm C-cup breasts with their prominent nipples, and pulled himself forward. His mouth latched onto her nipple and he began to suckle. "Smart move Chris; that just might work," Mike shouted at the screen. Chris knew that he could not fight her off if she tried to complete the cycle by inflicting more pain. He hoped to distract her long enough by giving her pleasure and maintaining his erection as well. Anastasia's eyes were partially closed as she savored the sexual sensations pulsating through her body. Mike had one eye on the clock and the other on the close up of Chris as he sucked and nibbled on her breast. Then, with exactly three minutes to go in the match, Anastasia bent her head and whispered into his ear. "If you wanted to see my titties why didn't you say so? Here, have a closer look." She pulled his head back until she dislodged him from her nipple and then, with both hands behind his head, she smashed his face into the valley between her breasts and held him firmly in place as she pushed her breasts together with her arms. With less than two minutes left in the match, Chris's arms fell to his side and his body hung limply against her. Anastasia, once again held him at arms- length so Karla and the viewers could watch as his erection ever so slowly began to sag. From pointing upward it began to sink, past perpendicular and finally pointing towards the floor. The final tone sounded, the status signal switched from red to blue, the tenth and final light turned on, and the busser sounded ending the match. Mike noted the time; 58 seconds remained on the clock. Anastasia held him for one last moment and then dropped him like a bag of garbage, turned and walked towards the door, leaving Karla to see to Chris's condition. ________________________________ "That woman infuriates me sometimes!" Karla hissed as she closed the door to Mike's office. "She treats all of her opponents as if they were sexual predators. They are totally humiliated, physically broken, and in some cases, sexually destroyed. Then it becomes my job to fix the damages as best I can. Fortunately, Debbie and Linda volunteered to take care of Chris. The last time I saw them they were just about to enter the storage room." "The longer the match went on, the more I found myself rooting for Chris. To tell you the truth, I really don't understand why anyone would want to wrestle her." "Money and sexual pleasure. Most of the guys that accept her challenge have no clue what they are in for; all they see is her beautiful facade, not what's in her heart. Now you can better understand why none of the women can stand her and why all of the guys hate her." "Then why do you keep her around?" "I'll admit it: it's for the money. She accounts for about a third of the company's income. We're sort of stuck with each other. I need her to help grow our revenue. I won't be able to do this forever; nor would I want to. Someday I'd like to sell the company and retire early. She needs me because she couldn't get the money she gets from here anywhere else. She needs a lot of money to fund her lifestyle. She lives as a recluse; in a huge compound, with three beautiful female employees - a housekeeper, a personal assistant, and a grounds keeper - each of whom is also her sexual slave." "How do you know so much about her personal life?" "When she first started with the company, she invited me to her home for an afternoon of swimming and fun. When I arrived the door was answered by her housekeeper, who was completely naked. She escorted me outside to the pool where Anastasia and two other women were sunbathing; all three equally naked. She told me that the house rules required everyone to be naked and that I was totally over-dressed. I figured 'when in Rome...', so I stripped and enjoyed the sun and the pool. "At some point in the afternoon, while she and I were soaking up the sun, Anastasia clapped her hands once and the three women got up and stood in front of her. Suddenly one of the women crawled up between her legs and began to lick her. Another woman stood behind her lounge chair and massaged her breasts. I was so engrossed with what was going on in front of me that I was totally unaware that the housekeeper was kneeling at my feet, waiting for me to spread my legs. When I shook my head, she pleaded with me." 'Please, my mistress will be very angry with me. If she finds that you are not pleased with me she will beat me.' "I'm really not into female on female sex; reluctantly, I spread my legs and closed my eyes and tried to relax. I have to admit that she was very, very good at what she was doing. I must have cum half a dozen times before I had to push her away because I just couldn't take any more. "When I glanced over at Anastasia she was wearing a huge strap-on and was fucking one of the women from behind while that woman was licking the other woman who was on the lounge. Soon the housekeeper straddled the lounge chair and was gyrating on that woman's face. "I have to tell you, it was what it must have been like to be part of a Roman orgy. They continued to switch places until all three had been thoroughly fucked by Anastasia, who then turned to me and asked if I wanted to take her place. It was at that point that I realized how emotionally damaged she was." After a period of contemplation she turned back to Mike and asked, "Enough about her; how's everything going with you? Any problems? Anything I can help you with? How's your strength training with Truda coming along?" "Everything's going well, I've got a pretty good schedule going with most of my trainees. As far as my training is concerned I'm more than pleased. I've never been stronger or in better shape, but you'll have to ask Truda what her opinion is. All she does is push me harder and harder and all she tells me is that I'm almost ready; for what she won't say." The whole time she was talking to him, she'd been standing close and running the tips of her fingers up his arms and across his chest. If he didn't know better, he'd say that she was flirting with him. But she was the boss and besides, as beautiful and sexy as she was, she had to have a boyfriend, right? "I keep in close contact with Truda and she's very pleased with your progress. In fact everyone that I've spoken to about you has had nothing but good things to report. Keep up the good work." With

that Karla stood and walked out the door. Chapter Seven: After three hours of working with his trainees and another two hours of strength training with Truda, Mike was more than happy to retreat to his office and do some paperwork. After making some progress notations for each of his trainees, he called up his email. He had one new email. It was from Linda in the office. 'You have been scheduled to fight Karla Anderson on the 28th at 4:00 in the main event ring. Event type - Boxing. Please click accept to respond.' 'Great,' he thought, 'another chance to make some real money and to avenge my previous loss to her. I have ten days to get ready.' He clicked accept and then called up the fight calendar. Sure enough, there was their fight scheduled on the 28th. He also noted that Karla was scheduled that afternoon at 4:00 to wrestle some guy named Bruno. Checking the time, he noted that he had just enough time to get his hour in on the treadmill and grab a quick shower before the match. At five minutes to four, Mike ran out of the locker room and headed for the main event ring. It seemed like all the seats were taken, but then Truda stood up and waved him over by her and the one remaining empty seat. Debbie, the wrestling instructor, was already seated on his other side. "Who's the big guy? I've never seen him before." "That's Bruno Moretti he's not one of our regulars; he's one of Karla's specials." "Specials?" "Oh, I forgot you're relatively new around here. Our opponents basically come from three sources. One source is our employees/members; the guys you see training here on a regular basis. Then we have the challenge matches where different gyms and fight clubs challenge our fighters. The third type is what Karla calls 'Specials'. Karla goes out to various 'Tough Man' competitions and offers the winners big money to come here to fight. We also get tips from the local cops about guys who get off on beating up their wives or girlfriends, and who seem to be able to evade prosecution. Karla offers them $50,000 to fight her. Of course that's chump change to her, especially when you take into account the potential revenue from one of these videos. "Bruno, it seems, likes to slap his wife around when he gets bored. The cops were alerted a number of times, but the wife refuses to press charges, probably because she's scared to death of him. Karla and I met with her a couple of weeks ago. He doesn't know it yet, but she's going to leave him right after the match and is coming here to live and train." "He looks pretty big; I hope Karla can take him." "No problem; the guy's big and strong, but he's got no formal training, he's out of shape, and I'm sure he's never fought anyone who can compare with Karla," Debbie answered. Mike wasn't convinced. He watched as Bruno paced from one side of the ring to the other. The look on Bruno's face was enough to scare the hell out of just about anyone. "Where the hell is she? Is she too scared to come out of the locker room?" he thundered. "I'm right here, Bruno, don't have a stroke. Are you in that much of a hurry to get your ass whooped?" Karla replied as she stepped through the ropes. Dressed in a white one-piece bathing suit which clung to her like a second layer of skin, she looked invincible. Her huge arms and shoulders shocked Mike. He hadn't seen her dressed like this before. When she was in the office she always dressed in business casual clothes and when she worked out it was always in sweats. 'She must be close to 200 pounds,' he thought to himself,' and I've got to fight her next week.' Donna, the MC for the event moved to the center of the ring. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Amazon Combat Arena; this is our main event. Introducing, in the blue corner, standing six feet three inches tall and weighing two hundred forty five pounds, from the city of San Diego, Bruno Moretti." The gym was filled with sound of boos. "And in the red corner, our founder and CEO, standing six feet and one half inch and weighing two hundred and two pounds, the one, the only, Karla Anderson." The place went crazy. The sound of cheers, whistles and the stomping of feet seemed to shake the ground. When the noise finally abated, Donna continued. "This is a no-holds-barred, submission only match, one fall, with a one-hour time limit. The prize is $50,000. Fighters, good luck and may the better fighter win." The bell sounded and Bruno came running out of his corner planning on ending this farce quickly. Karla easily side-stepped his bull rush and Bruno crashed into her corner. Furious he turned and launched himself once again in her direction. This time Karla pivoted on her left foot and hit him squarely in the chest with a spinning mule kick, stopping Bruno dead in his tracks. Before he could recover, she grabbed his arm and flung him across the ring into the ropes. As he bounced off the ropes, Karla, standing in his path, bent at the waist, allowed him to run in to her. At the moment of impact she stood up sending Bruno high into the air. He came crashing down onto his back shaking the entire ring expelling any air he had in his lungs. Not allowing him to recover, Karla pulled him to his feet and with one arm between his legs and one arm over his shoulder picked him up as if he were a sack of flour and slammed him back onto the canvass. Twice more she slammed him and then dragged him onto his feet and whipped him into the ropes again. Bruno's nearly comatose body careened off the ropes; Karla waited in the center of the ring. At precise the proper moment, she jumped high into the air and planted both feet into his chest, again stopping his forward momentum. Bruno crashed to the mat, only the twitch of his legs assured Mike that he wasn't dead. Karla regained her feet and slowly strutted over to Bruno's prone body. Standing tall, she prodded him with her foot as she taunted him. "Come on tough guy, get up; I'm not through with you yet. We were just starting to have some fun." Seeing that he wasn't getting up any time soon, Karla retreated to her corner. Reached down and grabbed her water bottle. She took a sip, then walked back to his body and made a show of slowly pouring a little of her water onto his face. Bruno spurted and coughed and after several moments, slowly turned onto his side and, with the help of the ropes, struggled to his feet. Meanwhile Karla had turned her back on him, sealed the bottle, and tossed it back to Min Lee her corner person. As she turned to face Bruno once again, he lashed out with a powerful right hand, which, if it had landed squarely, would have done significant damage to her beautiful face. As it was however, it just grazed her jaw, just hard enough to draw a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. "That was a big mistake," Truda whispered to no one in particular. Mike had to agree as he watched Karla wipe the blood with the back of her right hand and raise it to her mouth, her tongue giving the back of her hand a quick lick. Just as quickly she moved into her boxing stance. Both Mike and Truda, as with one voice, began the chant: jab, jab, jab, shift your weight, straight right! It was as if Karla could hear their instructions. Bruno had no defense for her onslaught. The right hand caught him flush on the jaw. He fell back into the ropes and keeled forward, face first crashing down to the canvass once again. "Get up tough guy, get up and fight. You like hitting women, beating them for your own amusement. How does it feel to be on the receiving end? Get up, I'm not through with you yet." When he didn't move, Karla walked over to the nearest camera and did a slow, sensual muscle show for the video. Mike sat in awe as he watched each set of muscles seem to explode into full definition. He could feel one'muscle' of his own quickly come to life. His face turned red from embarrassment as he felt Debbie's hand slowly begin to caress his thigh. "Don't be embarrassed Mike, all of the guys and at least half of the women have all felt the same way at one time or another. Look over there." Mike, followed her gaze and notice two women sitting on the aisle of the next section of seats, each had a hand between the legs of the other as they watched the spectacle going on in the ring. Finished with her impromptu performance, Karla sauntered back to Bruno's still unconscious body. She knelt near his head, grabbed a handful of his dark, curly hair, and pulled his head up, giving the viewers a good look at her handiwork. "I'm not through with him just yet. I want to hear him cry for mercy. They all cry for mercy in the end. But the only thing is, I have no mercy to give these weak, spineless thugs. Just think how it would feel to get in the ring with me; to feel these python-like arms and legs slowly crush your weak, insignificant little body. You too could be crying for mercy just like he'll be doing in a couple of minutes. Just give me a call or shoot me an email. The number and my address are on our website." Karla looked back down at his lifeless face and began to slap him, gently at first, and then with more authority, until his eyes began to flutter open. Letting his head flop back to the canvass, she retreated back to her corner allowing Bruno to slowly revive, stand up on his shaky legs, and retreat to his corner. All the bravado that he had exhibited earlier was gone replaced by fear. Karla slowly crossed the ring, like a panther on the prowl, until she stood directly in front of Bruno. Without a word and with no defense from Bruno she tossed him head over heels across the ring. For the next ten minutes she gave him a wrestling lesson that he would never forget; putting him in one debilitating hold after another until he was prostrate at her feet. "Bruno, I want you to surrender to me right now and promise me that you will never strike another woman as long as you live. If you don't I promise you that the pain you're in now is nothing compared to the pain that lies ahead." Mike didn't know if Bruno was even aware or could respond to her. With a shrug of her shoulders, Karla moved forward and placed his head between her muscular thighs, crossed her ankles, and began to slowly squeeze. Bruno began to moan and, as she increased the pressure, began to scream out his submission. "Aaggh! Please don't kill me; you're gonna crush my skull. I give. I give. You win. I promise to never hit another woman ever again. Please stop. Please." Karla, looked up into the camera, struck a double bicep pose, and smiled a wicked smile. "See, I told you they all beg in the end. Dream of me tonight." Debbie leaned over to Mike and whispered in his ear. "It's almost over now." Karla released the pressure, uncrossed her legs and Bruno's head fell to the canvass. Mike could tell that he was still alive by the rhythmic movement of his chest, but knew for certain that he would need extensive medical care. Karla moved behind him and pulled him into a sitting position. She clamped one of her mighty arms around his head under his chin, while placing the other hand on top of his head. "That's it, a classic sleeper hold, he's finished." Linda fell to her knees in front of him as Karla increased the pressure of the hold. At first Bruno began to wave his arms, then one hand grasped her arm in a vain attempt to break her hold. Linda watched as his eyes slowly closed and his arms fell to his side. "He's out, Karla; release him," she yelled. Karla released the hold and allowed the body to fall face first to the canvass. She waved to the crowd as the bell rang ending the massacre. She left the ring to a standing ovation while Linda and Truda, who had already made her way to the ring, slid the motionless body under the bottom rope to the apron of the ring and then on to a rolling gurney for transport to a hospital back in San Diego. _____________________________ Mike was very quiet at dinner. The only thing on his mind was his upcoming fight with Karla. How was he ever going to beat her? He had thought he stood a chance against her because of his training with Truda, but that was before today's match; before he realized just how muscular she had gotten. She was as strong as a heavy-weight, but appeared to have the speed and the skills of an experienced middle-weight. For Mike, that was a lethal combination. At least he had nine more days to get himself ready. The only positive element to his upcoming fight was that it was going to be a boxing match and not wrestling. Chapter Eight: For the next nine days he trained hard with Truda, increasing his personal bests in three upper body lifts. He also scheduled two sparring sessions a day with the best of his trainees. He beat all of the males and all but two of the women. Truda and Cathy still gave him trouble but he felt he held his own for most of their sessions. The day of the fight, Mike did a light cardio workout in the morning and rested most of the early afternoon. Unable to overcome the excitement and anticipation of the fight, he left his room at 3:00 and walked over to the gym. Fifteen minutes later he was sitting by himself in front of his locker. Jeff had already wrapped his hands and helped him with his gloves. "You should see the crowd out there," Jeff exclaimed after returning to the locker room. "I'll bet every current member and nearly every former member is here to see this fight." "Terrific" Mike replied dourly. "What's wrong Mike? You should be really jazzed about fighting her. What's the worst thing that can happen? She destroys you in the first round? So what, look what you have to look forward to afterwards; terrific sex with one or more of the Amazons and then sitting back and watching the money rolling in." "I don't want to lose; but if I do, I want my healing to be with Karla. I love her, I think I've loved her since the first time I met her" "Then I think you may have a problem. I've been here for nearly three years. I've never heard of anyone who's been administered the sexual healing by Karla. Come to think of it, I've never even seen her with a boyfriend. Maybe she's not into guys if you know what I mean." Mike didn't appear to be listening. He just sat with his arms on his knees staring at the floor. After ten minutes, Jeff jumped up off the bench next to him and shouted, "Enough is enough. You've got a fight to win. Get up off your ass and warm up. I'm going to set up our corner. Come out at 4 o'clock." Promptly at 4:00, Mike entered the gym and made his way to the main event ring. Jeff had been right, the crowd was huge; there wasn't a seat to be had and people were standing three or four deep wherever they could. By the time he climbed into the ring he could hear the chant being raised by the guys in the crowd. Mike. Mike. Mike. Mike raised a fist in the air acknowledging the cheers of the crowd. For Mike, this was, on a smaller scale, what he had aspired to when he had wanted to turn pro. He was brought back to the moment by the sudden roar of the crowd as Karla climbed into the ring. She was dressed in her signature white. An Amazon Combat Arena tee-shirt with the arms cut off, and shortened to reveal her incredible abs. On the back was the Arena's familiar motto, 'A Hard Man is Good to Beat'. This was over a pair of white gym shorts and fringed, white boxing shoes. The outfit did little to hide neither her obvious muscularity nor her feminine curves. Mike and Jeff were huddled in their corner going over some last minute strategy. "Mike, I think your best bet is to try to take her out early. She hasn't boxed much since I've been here. She's been concentrating on improving her wrestling skills and bulking up. There may be a lot of ring rust built up. The longer this fight goes the tougher she's going to get." Suddenly, the voice of the MC for the event boomed out of the speakers. Linda stood in the center of the ring, dressed in what could only be described as a sexual version of a black tuxedo consisting of a black string bikini, and a jacket with tails. On her legs were black stockings, and on her feet black shoes with five-inch heels. "Ladies and Gentlemen, can I have your attention please. This is the main event of the evening. We have two of our most popular boxers fighting tonight. These fighters have a history together. They have fought on two previous occasions. Each has come away with a victory by knockout. "In the blue corner, standing five feet eight inches tall and weighing a trim one hundred and seventy four pounds, the man that all the female fighters voted the fighter they'd most like to administer to after a match, the Arena's boxing instructor, Mike Wilson." Linda waited patiently for the considerable cheers to die down. "And in the red corner, a woman who needs no introduction. Standing six feet and one half inch tall and weighing two hundred and two pounds, our founder and CEO, the blonde widow-maker, 'Killer Karla' Anderson." Once again the crowd erupted, the noise filling the arena. "This fight is scheduled for ten rounds of boxing. Your referee for this event is Truda Schmidt." Truda beckoned both fighters to the center of the ring. Placing an arm on each fighter's shoulder, she gave them their final instructions. "I want a nice clean fight; no holding and hitting. When I say break, you stop punching and take a step back. You can be saved by the bell in every round but the final round. I can administer a standing eight count if I deem it necessary. Any questions?" Neither Mike nor Karla responded; they were too busy staring down one another; trying to intimidate the other. "Okay, then; let's give them their money's worth. Protect yourself at all times. Touch gloves now and come out fighting at the sound of the bell." They touched gloves, turned and retreated to their respective corners. Mouthpieces were inserted and last minute words of encouragement exchanged. With the sound of the bell the first round began. Both fighters moved out cautiously, respecting the abilities of the other fighter. Mike was the first to throw a punch; a quick jab, which penetrated Karla's defense. Moments later he tried another jab with the same result. But, this time Karla responded with a left-right combination, which Mike was able evade. He circled to his right, away from her power, changing directions when he felt she was trying to cut off the ring, all the time flicking his jab into her face. Near the end of the round he moved inside, scoring well with both hands to her midsection. Her abs and obliques were more than capable of withstanding his onslaught. This was an attack to build up points, and hopefully to slow her down in the later rounds. When the bell sounded ending the round, both fighters returned to their corners. Jeff congratulated Mike. "That round belongs to you. I told you she'd be rusty, it was bound to happen after a three-year layoff. I want you to pick up the pace this round. Get to her early and she's yours." Mike sat on his stool, 'it had been a good round,' he thought, but he held no illusions that this was going to be easy. He was a light heavy weight, fighting a skilled fighter two weight classes above his. In addition, he knew she was at least twice as strong as him. She could end the fight with one punch if he wasn't careful. One mistake and the fight would be over. Just before the beginning of the second round a thought came to him. 'In all the fights I've had here and all the fights I've seen, I've never seen a fight end with a decision. Every fight has ended by knockout. I wonder if they even have judges and a scoring system.' The ten second warning was given and moments later the bell for round two sounded. This time Mike hurried out of his corner bringing the fight directly to Karla. The fighters stood toe to toe for a good thirty seconds exchanging punches with Mike's the crisper of the two. He ate some leather but for each one of her punches that landed he landed three. Then, just as quickly, he reverted back to circling and sticking his jab in her face. He could see the frustration on her face, as well as a slight welling under her right eye. With less than a minute to go in the round, Mike tried once again to get inside and pound her belly. He never made it; Karla landed a right uppercut to his unprotected ribs, knocking all the air out of his lungs and forcing him to hang onto her for dear life. Mike was still trying to breathe when he heard Truda's command to break. Ignoring her he continued to hold trying to get a couple more seconds to recover. Before Truda could issue a second command, Mike's arms seemed to fly outward as Karla expanded her chest and thrust her arms outward breaking his grip. But before Karla could follow up on her advantage, Mike practically ran sideways out of range. Moments later the bell sounded ending round two. Heading back to his corner he received a warning from Truda about obeying her commands. As he slumped onto his stool, catching up on his breathing, Jeff was already applying an ice pack to his ribs. "Damn. She hits like a mule." "Be careful out there; a couple a more shots like that and we'll be picking you up off the floor." When the bell sounded for round three, Mike moved out of his corner more cautiously, his left arm held closer to his side to protect his rib cage. This was just a ploy; he was hoping to draw her in, maybe take advantage of a mistake or two before she caught on. He resumed his circling to his right, throwing left jabs to keep her away, and, occasionally, a combination off the jab. Karla tried to follow up on her success from the earlier round but all she succeeded in doing was score a couple solid shots to his arm and shoulder, nothing that would cause him any more damage. Near the end of the round, Karla threw a left hook to his ribs, trying to copy the success she had had on his other side. Mike never consciously saw the opening that was suddenly presented to him, but his years of training made him react to it. He launched a powerful right hook over her left, which landed solidly on the left side of her jaw. Her head lurched to the right, sweat and her mouthpiece flying out of the ring, before her body crashed to the canvass. The whole arena was in shock; even Mike stood looking down on her prone body, as Truda pushed him towards a neutral corner and then turned to start the count. All of the males in the arena began to cheer as they finally realized what they had witnessed. Just as Truda reached eight, the bell sounded ending the round. Debbie, Karla's corner-person, raced across the ring and half- dragged the still woozy fighter back to her stool. "That was beautiful. Crap, you had her, only the bell could have saved her. How do you feel?" "Her hook landed just after mine did. I think she may have cracked one of my ribs." Jeff crouched directly in front of Mike as he held an ice pack to Mike's right side. He wanted to hide the maneuver from Karla and her corner person. 'No sense telling them that Mike's hurt again.' Both fighters move out cautiously at the start of round four. Karla appeared to be over the worst of the effects of her, near knock-out the previous round, while Mike moved constantly to the right giving as much protection to his ribs as possible. Each fighter landed solid shots during an exchange midway through the round. It appeared that Karla was beginning to move the momentum of the fight in her direction. Rounds five, six and seven proved to be more of the same. With each round Karla gained more confidence and inflicted increasingly more damage on Mike's face and body. During round eight Mike was knocked down twice, once with a beautiful uppercut that landed solidly in his midsection, dropping him to his knees gasping for breath. The second was the result of a five-punch combination that ended with Mike sitting in his corner and Jeff shouting for him to get up. Mike just beat the count as he climbed the ropes back to a standing position. It was a testament to his skill and conditioning that he was able to survive to the end of the round. "That's it; I'm ending this before she kills you," Jeff said as he reached for the towel he had used earlier to clean Mike of his own blood that Karla's gloves had smeared all over his face. "No way," Mike yelled, grabbing the towel from Jeff's hand and tossing it out of the ring. "Don't you fuck'n dare try to stop this fight. She's going to have to beat me to win. I'm not going to quit." The bell rang and round nine began. Mike came out of his corner quickly; a new shot of adrenaline coursing through his veins brought him back to his earlier level of aggressiveness. Circling to his right, he shot out a steady stream of jabs to Karla's unprotected face. Karla's total lack of defense was apparent as she stalked him around the ring looking for an opening to land a fight- ending punch. Blood was dripping from her nose and from a nasty looking cut at the corner of her right eye. The swelling under that eye, which Linda had been able to keep under control, now seemed to all but close the eye all together, making it almost impossible for her to see to her right. Realizing her problem, Mike suddenly reversed directions, quickly moving to his left before launching a series of left hooks to her midsection and ribs, setting up a straight right that landed solidly on her jaw. Karla landed on her back, her arms and legs outstretched. Mike quickly retreated to a neutral corner as Truda began the count. 'There's no way she's going to get up; it's over.' Mike thought as he sagged back against the corner, his arms hanging along the top rope. Truda had reached five as Karla rolled over and began the slow climb up the ropes. She made it to her feet at nine and turned, holding her gloves in front of her face as Truda checked her condition and cleaned off any debris that could cause harm to the other fighter. Satisfied with her condition, Truda waved Mike out of the corner and the fight resumed. Karla went into a protective shell as Mike did the best he could to bring her guard down. It was a testament to her conditioning and overall muscularity that she was able to withstand his body barrage. When the bell sounded ending the ninth round the entire crowd was on its feet screaming encouragement to both fighters. An adrenaline rush can only last so long, and it was a totally exhausted fighter that collapsed onto his stool. Jeff was trying everything he could think of to energize his fighter; even to the point of pouring a handful of ice chips into his shorts. Across the ring in the other corner, Linda was working the ice bags as well in a desperate attempt to re-open Karla's right eye. It was two battle weary fighters that answered the bell for the final round. The crowd was still on their feet, cheering on both fighters as they touched gloves. The fighters stood toe to toe, neither wanting to bend to the will of the other. Mike using his superior hand speed and movement to make Karla miss. Karla, willing to take numerous hits in order to land one solid fight ending punch, absorbing the best Mike had to offer. In the end the old adage turned out to be true; a good big man, or in this case woman, will prevail over a good small man. After a near miss with a straight right that just grazed Mike's right cheek, Karla fired a perfectly timed left hook that landed solidly on his jaw. Mike never saw the punch coming, one moment he was evading a lead right and the next moment everything went black. Mike's body pitched forward, his knees hitting the canvass a fraction of a second before his face. As she stood over him Karla knew that the fight was over. She calmly walked back to her corner where Linda and Debbie both were cheering loudly. "You two know what to do." Both nodded; no words needed to be exchanged. Truda, by this time, had reached "10" and proclaimed Karla the winner. Karla had her hand raised, posed for a final camera shot, climbed out of the ring to the cheers of her fans, and headed to the locker room. Truda knelt over Mike's motionless body and slowly turned him over onto his back. The rolling gurney was brought ringside; Linda and Debbie helped Truda get Mike out of the ring and on to the gurney, and rolled him into Truda's office. He was just coming to when she finished reading the x-rays of his ribs and skull. She gave him a concussion test, concluding that that too was negative. "Mike; that was the greatest fight I have ever seen. You should be proud of what you accomplished. "But I assume I lost, right?" "Yes you lost, but you can hold your head high; you didn't back down, you gave everything you had. Unfortunately you were up against a better fighter. There's no shame in losing to one of the best. Here's some Advil, take them now; they'll help with the pain. I'll stop in later this evening to check on you. Now it's time for you to leave." Truda helped Mike to stand and, on very unsteady legs, he left her office heading back to the locker room. As he entered the vestibule between the two locker rooms he became aware of two figures lurking just beyond the door. Before he could react, two beautiful, very muscular and very naked women took him under the arms and carried him into the men's locker room. Debbie held him upright while Linda removed his shoes and socks. Mike, much to his embarrassment, was already beginning to respond. He tried to escape but Debbie easily maintained her control as she whispered in his ear. "Relax; we're just here to help you get cleaned up, and to make sure you don't get hurt." By this time, Linda had him completely naked and was gently holding his impressive equipment. "I can't wait to get my share of this." "Easy girl, we have our orders; we can look but can't touch, remember?" "Oh, alright. Let's get him cleaned up before I get myself in trouble." The women helped him into the shower and scrubbed him down, being careful not to cause him any more pain than was absolutely unavoidable, washing all of the dried blood, which was mostly his own, off his body. Linda couldn't help herself; after rinsing off his now totally-erect cock, she took him all the way into her mouth, just to prove to herself - and to him - that she could. "Linda, if he cums you'll be in a world of trouble." They helped him back to his locker and were drying his hair with a towel when Truda came into the room holding a small syringe and quickly stuck it in his butt cheek. They held him upright until his legs gave way and then laid him on the bench. They quickly got him dressed, carried him out to Truda's Hummer, and transported him to the house and up the stairs to Karla's bedroom. ________________________ Mike's eyes began to flutter and open as he slowly regained consciousness. At first he thought he was lying in his own bed. 'No wait; this is not my room. Whose room is this?' He tried to get up and then two things became readily apparent; one, his head was pounding and two, every part of his body above his waist was screaming at him to keep still. Suddenly a female figure appeared in the bathroom doorway. She was backlit so he couldn't see her face, but there was no doubt that she was a woman; a large, muscular and very sexy woman. "I'm glad to see you've finally come around. I've been checking on you for the last hour or so and I was beginning to get a little worried. Do you remember anything that happened to you?" 'Karla?' he thought. "The last thing I remember, I was in the care of two beautiful and very naked Amazons." "And before that?" "You beat the crap out of me." Karla closed the bathroom door, slowly crossed the room and climbed onto the bed. Two candles on the nightstand issued a soft light illuminating her face. It was clear that he had inflicted considerable damage during their fight. "If you look that bad, I can image what I look like." "That's one of the reasons why you're here. I know you've been through this a number of times since you started here so you know what we are about to do. But even if I had allowed one of the other women to administer the healing, we still would have gotten together. "Remember when I hired you I said I had two reasons? You see, the other reason is that since the first time we met I've been attracted to you. I've kept myself at arms-length from you because I wanted to see what kind of guy you were, how you worked with the rest of our people, and what kind of heart you possessed. I found myself liking you more and more every day. That posed a new problem for me. "Here in The Arena, I had set a high standard for the women to follow: to the Victor goes the spoils. Well, in your case, I wasn't the Victor because we had each won a fight against the other. If I was going to be the Victor I would first have to beat you once again. But for us to have fought in the condition that you were in when you first started here would not have been fair; and it would have been a hollow victory for me. That's why I had you train with Truda; you needed to be a lot stronger and better conditioned. You also needed a lot more experience with fighters who could push you to your limits and beyond. You have no idea how hard it was to wait until you were ready. But for me it was worth the wait. You proved to be everything I hoped for... and more. You pushed me to my limits... and almost beat me. I'm not sure what I would have done if you had." "I know you would have been the spoils I'd have taken. Karla, I've dreamt of this night for as long as I've known you. I just assumed that you weren't interested in me in that way." "Now that we've cleared the air, I think we should begin your healing. Don't worry I'll be gentle. At first." Epilogue: The wedding took place two months later. For the mail order minister who presided over the event it was the most unusual he had ever witnessed. All of the current employees were invited to attend the wedding service, which of course was held in the Arena. All were instructed to arrive one hour before the actual wedding. As they were arrived they were given a clean set of fighting attire and assigned to either one of the rings, the octagon, or a one of the temporary matted areas set up for the event. Promptly at three o'clock, Mike and his best man Jeff entered the Arena and climbed into the main event ring. After a short wait, Karla entered, followed closely by her bridesmaid Truda, to the sounds of the Wedding March. When everyone was in their proper locations, the minister began the service. As he glanced around the room, he was overwhelmed by the overall fitness and muscularity of all of the attendees, especially the bridal party. His hands were actually shaking as he read through his prepared script. All of the women had been previously told what was expected of them at the conclusion of the service; even the minister had been warned. So after their vows, after expressing their never ending love for one another, after the exchange of rings and after he proclaimed them man and wife, the minister asked the wedding party to turn towards the crowd and taking several steps backward to the edge of the ring announced: "Ladies and Gentlemen, for the first time I am proud to introduce Karla and Mike Anderson." What happen next was captured by twenty-four cameras strategically placed throughout the arena. The "Royal Rumble" that took place lasted over an hour and required more than a month of editing, until the final product was made available as a super-premium addition to the website. The Healings that took place behind closed doors in the offices, locker rooms, storage room, and hot tub were not made available to the general public. Only the participants were given that authorization code. THE END ***** _As always, your comments are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading. Submissive Romantic_

Ch. 1: (of 6) The Subservience to Stewardesses Directive. Ms Gina Summers, Chief Operating Officer of BlueSky Holidays, observed the hundred-plus male cabin crew assembled before her in our Gatwick Airport crew room. There was a glint in her eye, a satisfied sparkle of mission- accomplished success at seeing our troubled faces. The reason for the summons of all cabin crewmen to attend the meeting at our Gatwick HQ was unannounced. But it had not been hard to guess. We knew which way the wind was blowing, and our experience of previous such meetings called by Ms Summers was all the reason we needed for our concern today. Now, the anticipated ill-wind having blown through the packed crew room, those fears of worse to come were duly confirmed. But the fire-and-rehire employment terms outlined by Ms Gina Summers had exceeded the worst worries of the most pessimistic cabin crewmen. And now we were faced with an on-the-spot decision to make. The top exec of the UK's most popular holiday airline had delivered her take- it-or-leave-it option to cabin crewmen in her usual blunt style. "Your revised conditions of employment are effective from today," said Ms Gina Summers. "Therefore, those of you who feel unable to accept them are exempted from working the usual notice period and may resign at this meeting's conclusion. You will receive a cheque for your severance pay, along with an attached letter of recommendation - that is, those of you considered worthy of one by your flight supervisors. Plus the generous bonus I mentioned. My special offer, payable only upon your resignation today... Now, to those of you who have decided to sign your revised contracts: This is your chance to reconsider. So before signing on the dotted line, be sure of your commitment to honour your new duty requirements under the Subservience to Stewardesses directive." Abruptly, almost all of my cabin crewman colleagues, the majority of whom had reported from their regional airport bases, vacated their seats and filed out of the crew room in mass resignation. For them, this was it: the final straw. The female-favouring COO had finally succeeded in evicting them from their much-loved jobs. The new terms and conditions as just laid out by Ms Gina Summers were beyond untenable. They were going to grab the COO's special offer quit-money and run. "Excellent!" said Ms Gina Summers brightly after the noisy departure of the irreconcilable cabin crewmen. Addressing now just the remaining few 'committed' cabin crewmen, Ms Summers said, "We have separated the wheat from the chaff; or, the dross from the gold. And so now Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson, attended by Senior Stewardess Donna Didsbury, will oversee and co- witness your contract renewal signatures." Vacating my seat in the back row, I joined the queue of the whittled down contingent of just ten or twelve BlueSky Holidays cabin crewmen. Among them were my five remaining Gatwick-based colleagues. Terry and Darren were in their sky-blue uniform as I was, which meant their flight duty was imminent too. Terry was at the front of the line, and Darren was in front of me a few places. Tony, Glen and Greg were not in uniform. From a glance at the duty roster earlier, I knew the three of them were off-duty today but here to attend the meeting. Having concluded his re-signing procedure, Terry was headed for the exit door when he spotted me at the end of the queue and came over. "Hey, Mason! It's done! I've just signed my revised contract!" announced Terry, grinning all over his face. I couldn't imagine why Terry was so cheerful. "Well, I'm sure congratulations are in order, Terry," I said sardonically. "Which flight are you on, Mase?" Terry wanted to know. "I'm on the 14:00 Cyprus flight, Terry. And, worst luck, I'm under Senior Stewardess Camilla." "Mase, it's amazing how often you are under Camilla!" "Oh, it's not so amazing, Terry." I could see Terry wanted to question me about that. But he indicated his watch. "Tell me later, Mase. I don't know what it is with you and Camilla, but there is some kind of turbulent undercurrent. But anyway, I have to go. I'm on the 13:45 Barcelona. I'm under Senior Stewardess Jasmine." "There are so few of us left now, Terry. Maybe a dozen cabin crewmen, all told. And I have to say, I am surprised to see Darren here, signing his revised contract. And which flight is Darren working, Terry, do you know?" "Yes. Darren is on another short hop to Spain: the 13:50 Gerona. Darren is under Senior Stewardess Amelia. And if our flights return on time, Darren and I will be back before you - you are working the 14:00 Paphos, right? But I've a feeling we'll see you in the crew room tonight, Mase. See you!" As I moved forward upon my last remaining colleagues signing on the dotted line, I surmised that their reasons must be the same as mine: job satisfaction, financial commitments, and anxieties over job security in a climate of rising unemployment. But I had a more compelling reason for signing on the dotted line. If I became unemployed, my girlfriend Gemma would expect me to promptly relieve her of all household chores and more, as had been the case when I'd left education at eighteen for a job that fell through and, stuck on the dole for nearly a year, I couldn't pay my fair share of the bills. Domestic bliss for Gemma: she didn't have to lift a finger for nearly a year. Didn't so much as have to wash up a teacup, let alone cook or clean or go to the shops. A wakeful nightmare for me: a tiresome, tedious torment of housekeeping drudgery. Not least, answering Gemma's beck-and-call bidding for cups of tea and snacks, especially at the weekend when she wasn't working and home all day. My household chores, sternly overseen by my nitpicking taskmaster girlfriend Gemma, who, ruthlessly making me 'earn my keep', made the absolute utmost of her temporary advantage. I didn't want to endure another reign of Gemma's domestic discipline, go back to living under her dominant domiciliary thumb. I feared that in today's depressed jobs market, the COO's severance pay plus her one-time financial inducement to quit quietly might not last until I found other work. With the resultant resumption of my daily domestic grind as Gemma's de facto live-in house servant. But more to the point, I enjoyed my job, and the COO's latest disimprovements and impositions today were still not enough to evict me from it. So my on-the-spot decision had been 'Yes'. Yes, to Ms Gina Summers' take-it- or-leave-it ultimatum to cabin crewmen to sign a revised contract agreeing to abide by her new Subservience to Stewardesses directive. But Gemma wasn't going to like it. It was another argument in the making. Gemma already wanted me out of this job because it played havoc with our social life - as she'd vociferously argued and correctly predicted it would. Gemma's mantra was that I should find a daytime job like hers. Gemma's tolerance threshold for last-minute disappointments, inconvenient plan changes, and indeed the inability to plan was long exceeded. Each new annoyance was one nudge nearer to Gemma's tipping point - it was only a matter of time before she finally flipped. Gemma had a fiery temper. Maybe it had something to do with her red hair; proverbially, redheads are noted for their tempestuous temperaments. And from experience, I could affirm Gemma fit the bill. And now Gemma would flare up again when I told her this latest incendiary news of my revised contract's new terms and conditions. The wage-cutting, the flat- rate overtime, the discontinued travel concessions, and most explosive of all: the Subservience to Stewardesses directive. The rows of stackable seats, used by the 100-plus male cabin crew attending the meeting at the summons of BlueSky Holidays Chief Operating Officer, Ms Gina Summers, were being stacked and removed to return the crew room to normal. The last in line, I finally came to the re-signing desk. Like two recruiting sergeants enlisting reluctant draftees (with the notable exception of Terry), Senior Stewardess Donna Didsbury was seated beside Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson. Senior Stewardess Donna was in uniform: sky-blue blouse and above-the-knee skirt, dark nylons, and black three-inch heel uniform pumps. Except for air hostess Deborah - an absolute dreamboat - I didn't know of an air hostess the uniform looked so good on. And I'd seen on the roster earlier that Deborah was working on Donna's flight to Funchal today. Senior Stewardess Donna and Air Hostess Deborah - Donna brunette and Deborah blonde - were ideal poster girls for BlueSky Holidays. Donna's hair was long, and she wore it up in the elegant style favoured by many air hostesses for its imbued air of sophistication. Deborah's hair was much shorter, styled in a concave bob, which really suited her. Donna was twenty-two, Deborah twenty- one. Donna was an air hostess for BlueSky Holidays when I joined the company a year ago, at nineteen. So I'd worked with her; and, under her a few times since her recent promotion to Senior Stewardess. "Good afternoon, Chief Stewardess Lawson, and good afternoon, Senior Stewardess Donna," I said respectfully. Senior Stewardess Donna said, "Well, well... last but not least. If it isn't Cabin Crewman Mason Mallard." "Yes, Senior Stewardess Donna," I said. I was hoping now that Donna didn't remember the... incident. That it was long-forgotten. "Do you recall, Mason, before I became a Senior Stewardess, I once asked you nicely if you would massage my tired, achy feet when we got back to our crew room? Hmnn? And you said, no, because it wasn't a part of your job. And I said, I know it isn't, but my feet are killing me. And you said, forget it." "Um... I, er..." "So, this is this true?" said the BlueSky Holidays Chief Stewardess, Lois Lawson. "How could you be so unfeeling? Have you no gallantry? Would it have hurt you, Cabin Crewman, to kindly relieve the discomfort of a footsore female colleague who has just returned after a long and tiring shift on her feet wearing three-inch heel uniform pumps?" "I, er... no. I'm very sorry." "it isn't to me you should apologise," Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson told me. "If I were to show you the bare soles of my feet, Cabin Crewman, you would see what a twenty-year career of both short-haul and long-haul air hostessing in attractive but unforgiving three-inch heel uniform pumps has done to them. Before Civil Aviation Authority flying hours rules were so restrictive, we had to do long-haul non-stopover turnarounds. Sometimes to America - trans- Atlantic tootsie torture, we used to call it. But let me tell you, it was not a joking matter. Before we were halfway back on the return flight, some of us were going out of our minds from footsoreness. Not, for us, was the dreamed-of luxury of overnight or longer stays on expenses in quality hotels enjoyed by hosties working for the more prestigious airlines. Let me tell you: Our feet were killing us!" "I'm, er... very sorry to hear that, Chief Stewardess Lawson." "Are you, Cabin Crewman Mason? I don't think so. I had somehow imagined that today's cabin crewmen were more gallant. But I see now that nothing has changed. Today's cabin crewmen are just as unsympathetic, just as indifferent to our suffering. And here is the proof: Look how few of you have signed a revised contract today because of the new Subservience to Stewardesses directive. Oh, let me tell you, Cabin Crewman Mason, I wish the Subservience to Stewardesses initiative was introduced in my day! As soon as we arrived back in our crew room, do you know what I would have done? I would have ordered a cabin crewman to kneel before me and massage my tired and achy feet!" "So, Mason," resumed Senior Stewardess Donna, "after listening to the Chief Operating Officer Ms Gina Summers' announcement, do you fully understand the changes implemented by management? That new, stewardess-friendly ground rules have been introduced and are in force from today for cabin crewmen who have signed their revised contracts?" "Yes, Senior Stewardess Donna. I understand. And I am ready to sign." Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson said, "Well, you seem resolved in your decision, Cabin Crewman Mason. But I must be satisfied that you are compatible. I must bear in mind what I have just learned from Senior Stewardess Donna of your ungallant past behaviour, your unsympathetic attitude toward your footsore female counterparts. So, before I let you sign your revised contract, I want to hear you say it. Mason: What will your future attitude be towards any BlueSky Holidays air hostess who asks you for a post-flight foot massage in our crew room?" I paused to recall the exact wording of Chief Operating Officer Ms Gina Summers' Subservience to Stewardesses directive. "First and foremost, I must at all times be agreeable. I must promptly comply with any and all foot massage requests from my air hostess colleagues, and I must observe strict silence while performing their post-flight foot service as instructed, Chief Stewardess Lawson." "Well, Mason," said Senior Stewardess Donna. "Nice to know you were so attentive to Ms Summers. And, most important, you remembered the revised- contracted cabin crewman's one-word motto: 'Agreeable'." "Yes, most impressive," agreed Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson. Senior Stewardess Donna said, "All right, then. That's it. I believe Chief Stewardess Lawson and I are both satisfied. So here, Cabin Crewman Mason, use my pen to sign your revised contract, witnessed by Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson and me." I had one of my own, but Senior Stewardess Donna's BlueSky Holidays logoed ballpoint pen seemed the more apt with which to sign my revised contract. So I signed on the dotted line, sealing my foot-serving fate. "Well, that's twelve of you, newly signed up, Cabin Crewman Mason," Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson told me as she put my signed revised contract in an official BlueSky Holidays folder along with the eleven others. "You and five others, based here at Gatwick. And the other six, now returning to resume duty at their regional bases at Stansted, Birmingham, Manchester, Cardiff, Belfast, and Glasgow airports." Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson placed the official BlueSky Holidays folder into her sky-blue leather executive briefcase, closed the lid and pressed shut the catches, which locked with a snap of finality on the fates of the twelve remaining BlueSky Holidays cabin crewmen. Ms Gina Summers was based at Gatwick Airport. But she spent most of her time visiting resorts affiliated with BlueSky Holidays. Before today, I'd only seen Ms Summers at the airport, at meetings such as today's, or on TV, as it was the glamorous personage of the COO herself who fronted BlueSky Holidays commercials. So our paths had never crossed until now. Ms Gina Summers was beautiful, especially when tanned golden from her latest excursion to the sunshine. In her presence, I knew now just how charismatic she was. It must have been the mixture of charisma, beauty, and authority that I found Ms Gina Summers so utterly unsettling. In her early thirties, Ms Summers stood about five feet nine inches, had a fabulous figure and the shapely, well-toned legs to go with it, which were customarily bare and usually tanned golden. Her eyes were blue, and her crowning glory was her long platinum blonde hair that made her so instantly recognisable. "Are you finished here now, Lois?" Ms Summers inquired of the Chief Stewardess. Ms Summers had walked over to join us after seeing my former cabin crewman colleagues off the premises. Some of whom had put away the rows of stackable seats at her request before they left for the final time; though Ms Summers had just induced them to sack themselves, she was a woman who it was hard to say no to. "We should be going, Lois," Ms Summers said. "My flight to Madeira leaves soon; I wouldn't want to have to hold it up. I'm spending three days there, reviewing the Golden Sands, the brand-new five-star all-inclusive hotel complex. Hard work, but someone has to do it." "Yes, Gina, I'm sure. I only wish that I could go along to assist you. But yes, Gina, I'm all finished up. And I am delighted to tell you that it was a highly successful exercise. Voluntary male redundancy on an unprecedented scale. Even better than we'd hoped, Gina." "Even better than we'd hoped? Now you have me worried, Lois. I hope we haven't overdone it; we want to winnow them, but not to the point of extinction. So what are the cabin crewman figures reduced to now, Lois?" "Actually, we have overreached our ideal air hostess/cabin crewman ratio of one cabin crewman per flight. From over a hundred in total, we now have just twelve cabin crewmen on our books. A docile and dutiful dozen, you could say. As it happens, six of them are each stationed at one of our regional bases, which has worked out perfectly. Oh, they will be in demand - I can imagine our hosties there vying to have their solitary cabin crewman working on their flight! Cabin crewmen are now so under-numbered that they have gone from no one to someone, from nonentity to novelty. Cabin Crewman Mason Mallard, here, along with just five remaining colleagues, is based with us here at Gatwick." Chief Operating Officer Ms Gina Summers offered her hand and, such was the majesty of the woman, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to shake it or was required to kiss it. Ms Summers solved my dilemma by taking my hand firmly in hers. "Congratulations, Cabin Crewman Mason, on being one of the few to pass my new Subservience to Stewardesses directive qualification. I knew that not many of you would. Well, good riddance to them; to your now, former colleagues, who felt themselves to be above performing a post-flight foot massage for their footsore female counterparts. Did you take naturally to flying, Cabin Crewman Mallard?" I must have made a good impression, I thought. The ice maiden COO of BlueSky Holidays was joking with me. I was starting to feel more at ease. But before I could reply in a similar jokey vein, Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson clipped my wings before I could get off the ground, as it were. "Gina, what I can tell you is that Cabin Crewman Mason didn't take naturally to massaging his female colleagues' tired and achy feet upon their return to the crew room after a long and tiring flight duty. Senior Stewardess Donna says he flatly refused her polite request. Donna had virtually begged him, and in his callous indifference to her suffering when she told him her feet were killing her, he still said no. Gina, I hope I have done the right thing in allowing Cabin Crewman Mason to sign a revised contract. First and foremost, he must be agreeable. I had my doubts, and I raised questions as to Mason's agreeability. But I have full confidence in Senior Stewardess Donna, who told me earlier that she is sure of Mason, that his previous disobligation to her was not disinclination but merely from awkward shyness, and she had no hesitation in recommending his revised-contracted reinstatement." The warmth gone from her voice, her hand gone from mine, Chief Operating Officer Ms Gina Summers said, "Cabin Crewman Mason, you had better remember your contractual commitments to the Subservience to Stewardesses directive. There is no place for disinclination, no room for disobligation - only agreeability. And you should be aware that I will be scrutinising cabin crewman performance closely. Filed by your flight supervisors, the Cabin Crewman Conduct Report has the provision also to encourage the remarks and judgements of your air hostess colleagues. Trust me: you do not want to be summoned to my office. So, be warned. Do not disappoint me. I shall be monitoring you, looking for solid evidence of reform in your attitude - a vast improvement in your agreeability." Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson said, "Well, now we must take our leave. Thank you for assisting me here today, Senior Stewardess Donna." "It's been a pleasure, Chief Stewardess," Donna said earnestly. "To see the way Ms Summers culled the cabin crewmen! It was priceless. It makes me smile to think of it. I mean, to see the looks on their faces, when Ms Summers read out the long list of disimproved terms and conditions they would have to agree to and fully abide by if they were to stay on in their greatly reduced capacities at BlueSky Holidays!" Smiling, Ms Summers said, "And we'll all be better off without them. Having drastically cut our male staff numbers today, we are in a position to massively increase our female staff numbers. So we can offer immediate starts to the one hundred air hostesses from other airlines, who in their applications have expressed their wish to join us to benefit from our female- priority core values. Forty of the new air hostesses will join us here at Gatwick, and the other sixty will be spread out evenly, ten each at our six regional bases." "That is fabulous news, Ms Summers!" enthused Donna. "Some of them can sign up to us immediately, but most must first serve their required minimum notice with their present airline," Ms Summers said. "But we'll get by. The irresistible offer to our air hostesses of overtime at triple-pay rates and extra travel concessions and the double-shifting and reduced rest-perioding of our few remaining cabin crewmen will see us through. So Lois will begin the recruiting process today. Lois will also brief our Head of Crewing, Janice, to maximise utilisation of our remaining cabin crewmen, six of whom are based here at Gatwick." Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson said, "And, as for our departing cabin crewmen, well, it is better they should go. And no doubt they will find work quickly and fit in rather better at our competitor airlines where there will be a sudden upsurge in cabin crew vacancies." Ms Summers said, "So today, we have taken the company another step closer to our ultimate goal. Well, now I really must be off. But it's been a pleasure seeing you again, Senior Stewardess Donna. I am extremely pleased that Lois recognised your potential and that I authorised her strong recommendation for your fast-track promotion to Senior Stewardess. I see a bright future for you, Donna. I am sure you will enjoy a greatly gratifying career with us at BlueSky Holidays." "Thank you, Ms Summers," said Donna. "I am sure I will, too. And especially now, with your introduction of the Subservience to Stewardesses directive." Ms Gina Summers turned to me now and, smile gone, gave me her stern stare. "Do not give me a reason to call you into my office, Cabin Crewman Mallard. Because, one by one, I will pluck all of your feathers." With that parting shot, the BlueSky Holidays Chief Operating Officer and the Chief Stewardess turned on their high heels and left us. I admired the backs of COO Ms Gina Summers' shapely bare legs, tanned golden from her latest trip to one of the company's affiliated hotel complex resorts. I looked at my watch. The time was 13:40. Today I was working BH501/BH502, the BlueSky Holidays 14:00 Monday flight to Cyprus, scheduled to arrive back at Gatwick with returning holidaymakers at 23:50. Senior Stewardess Donna was buoyant after receiving such high praise and glowing recognition from COO Ms Gina Summers. Donna's career with BlueSky Holidays was really taking off - on the up and up, as it were. Having noticed me looking at my watch, Senior Stewardess Donna retrieved her smartphone and tap dialled. "Camilla, tell whoever is on Stand-by to operate on your flight: BH501 to Paphos. Cabin Crewman Mason Mallard is now working under me on flight BH529 to Funchal." Donna held her phone away from her ear, and I could hear the gist of Camilla's outraged complaint that Donna was taking it upon herself to remove me from her flight and onto her own. "Yes, Camilla, I know it means you will be without a cabin crewman on your flight. Bye, Camilla." Camilla was Senior Stewardess Camilla Cameron. At just twenty, Camilla was the youngest Senior Stewardess at BlueSky Holidays - no doubt, Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson had quickly recognised Camilla's outstanding 'potential' too. Camilla was already a Senior Stewardess when I joined the company. I'd worked under her many times - with disproportionate frequency. That was Camilla's doing, pulling strings with her contacts in Crewing. Camilla's nickname for me was Ducky, and variations thereof which she called me because she knew it got under my feathers, as it were. I knew from experience that Camilla's reputation for being sharp-tongued and bossy with her cabin crewman underlings was well-founded. And as far as I knew, we were all underlings. In more than a year with BlueSky Holidays, I'd never known a cabin crewman make it to Senior Steward. But Camilla was particularly despotic and down-putting with me because it was such an easy way to goad her arch-foe: my girlfriend, Gemma. Camilla and Gemma were longtime antagonists. Committed adversaries, they had pitted themselves against each other all through their secondary school years. I know, because I was there. Attending the same school in the same year and attending many of their classes, I had witnessed their antagonism. I had listened to their foul- mouthed yelling and screaming and watched their anything-goes catfighting. Not only outside during break times but causing chaos in the classrooms too. I couldn't understand their intense aversion to each other, their implacable enmity, their enduring hostility. They were just chalk-and-cheese characters. Gemma and Camilla were of chalk and cheese build, too. Gemma was five feet five inches and of slight build. Camilla was five feet eight inches and more substantially built; bigger-boned and fuller-fleshed - voluptuous would be an apt description. But while the comparative powerhouse Camilla had the larger frame and more muscle, her adversary Gemma was the cannier combatant. Gemma's speed of thought and fluidity of movement often got the better of Camilla. It told of Camilla's respect for her perennial opponent Gemma that she called her the 'Ginger Ninja'. Both still living in their home town, it was inevitable that Gemma and Camilla occasionally crossed paths. And when they crossed paths, just as inevitably, they crossed swords. But it didn't have to be that way. Gemma and Camilla could drastically reduce the probabilities for their happenstance confrontations. They could go to a different gym, patronise another hair salon, visit an alternative nail bar. But they didn't - or wouldn't, take these simple measures of mutual avoidance. Gemma and Camilla would not even cross the street to evade the other's approach. When I joined BlueSky Holidays as a cabin crewman a year ago and told Gemma that Camilla worked there as a Senior Stewardess and that I had worked my first flight duty under her, Gemma had blown her top. And so it was to prevent an escalation of hostilities between them, and to deny Camilla her little Gemma-goading satisfactions, that I did not report to Gemma any of Camilla's many mistreatments of me. But Gemma, knowing Camilla, was convinced of their regular perpetration. Senior Stewardess Donna was unaware of Senior Stewardess Camilla's feud with Gemma. Like most of our cabin crew, Donna sensed'some kind of turbulent undercurrent', as Terry had put it, between Camilla and me. But Donna was oblivious that Camilla was waging her attritional war with Gemma and winning frequent little victories against Gemma through me. And so, though her motive was selfish in wanting a cabin crewman on her flight, Senior Stewardess Donna had rescued me, as Camilla was Senior Stewardess on the flight I was rostered to work today: BH501 to Paphos. Then it hit me: Flight BH529 to Funchal was Madeira. And aboard, going on her latest BlueSky Holidays affiliated resort hotel spot-check/review would be Ms Gina Summers. "Hard work, but someone has to do it." I wondered now if I had misjudged Senior Stewardess Donna. Had I wrongly impugned Donna's motives for snatching me from Camilla's clutches and appropriating me to work under her instead today? Had Donna presented me with, if not a career furthering, a career keeping opportunity? A chance to demonstrate my cabin crewman qualities to Ms Gina Summers? To convince Ms Summers that I was, in fact, agreeable? Because, if so, I owed Donna a debt of gratitude. And I would have to find ways to demonstrate the depth of my appreciation. So, what to do? How best to seize my career keeping opportunity? Should I wait on Ms Summers? Or would the COO rebuke me for being over- attentive, tell me that treating her differently from the holidaymakers would not be a good impression? It might be wiser to let the air hostesses serve the COO her food and drink and tend to any other in-flight requirements. And anyway, the hosties would want to, wouldn't they? To get themselves noticed by Ms Summers. I could only hope to keep my career; theirs could be furthered. So, all things considered, I'd just play it by ear. Senior Stewardess Donna reached for my neck, and she tightened and straightened my already tight and straight uniform sky-blue tie. There was something proprietary in the way she did it. "Come on, Mason. You are working under me today. You will be working with air hostesses Deborah, Pamela, Julie and Analise. You are down to work under Camilla, and she was adamant over the phone just now that you still do so. But as they say: possession is nine-tenths of the law." "Yes, Senior Stewardess Donna." "There is no point in denying that our Chief Operating Officer Ms Gina Summers is pursuing a reforming agenda of male workforce reduction." "No, Senior Stewardess Donna, there isn't." "But Mason, let me add my congratulations to our COO's upon you signing a revised contract. Agreeing to an immediate twenty per cent pay cut, a pay freeze at the next wage review, relinquishing your travel concessions, and pledging to abide by the Subservience to Stewardesses directive." "Thank you, Senior Stewardess Donna." "I have always held the opinion that cabin crewmen should be subordinate to - and, yes: subservient to - their female counterparts. And I am sure that a major aspect of what Ms Gina Summers has achieved today with the introduction of her Subservience to Stewardesses directive is the dream of air hostesses worldwide: the empowerment to command a cabin crewman to administer a post- flight foot massage." "Yes, Senior Stewardess Donna." "Mason, you are one of the few survivors of a gravely endangered species, of a tenacious, clinging-on remnant of redundancy resistant cabin crewmen. Understandably, you are anxious about your position here, your existentially threatened future. But let me mitigate your misgivings. You are endangered, yes. But not unprotected, if you are from now on a shining example of my version of a model cabin crewman. Am I making myself clear to you, Mason; am I getting through to you?" "Yes, Senior Stewardess Donna." "Good. And, do you know what, Cabin Crewman Mason? I am already looking forward to my first ever post-flight foot massage. Looking forward to those hands of yours working on my tired and achy feet when we get back to our crew room tonight. Knowing that this time, Mason, shy and awkward or not, you will oblige me." "Yes, Senior Stewardess Donna," I said again. Having signed my name on the dotted line today in committed agreement with the new Subservience to Stewardesses directive imposed by the Chief Operating Officer Ms Gina Summers, it was all that there was to say. I had to be agreeable. The Air Stewardesses' Footmen continues in Ch. 2 (of 6). Ch. 2: The Affliction Common to Air Hostesses.

The room is dark, all but for one soft light casting a warm hue over a bare bed. Two large armchairs are facing the bed, one on each far corner of the bed, maybe 3 or 4 feet away from the bed. "What did I agree to?" you think to yourself as you are sitting in the chair. The chair is soft with cushioned arms and a high back. When I had asked you to come over because I wanted to show you something, you were surprised when I asked you if you wanted to play along, no questions asked. You looked at me and responded with a hesitant, "ok?" You did as I had instructed and now you are sitting in the chair in your bra and panties, staring at the bed. I walk in and smile at you. Without a word, sit down in the other chair that is facing the bed. I am only dressed in my underwear, black with grey stripes. Silence You hear creak of the floor boards behind you and your skin crawls with goosebumps. Another creak and now you know that someone is walking towards us from behind. Then you see a white flutter of cloth as a girl appears out of your peripheral followed by a soft scent of perfume. She reaches the edge of the bed and turns around to face us. She has long black hair framing a porcelain white face with red full lips. She is wearing a sheer silk robe and it is very easy to tell that she has nothing on underneath. You gaze at her and follow the material of her robe as hangs off her shoulders down to her arms. The slit at the front meets between her firm tight breasts and you can see her dark erect nipples almost pushing through her robe. You let your eyes wander further down and your can see that below her waist, the robe has loosened and her smooth bare sex is visible, leading down to long and shapely legs. You steal a glance at me and see me hungrily looking at her body, my finger tips lightly brushing the arm of the chair. With one hand she pulls at the belt of her robe and it falls away, letting her robe open, exposing a toned stomach. She shrugs and the robe falls off her shoulders and flutters to the ground. She runs her hands up the sides of her body, letting her thumbs pass over her nipples and then cups her breasts together before releasing them. She slides her hands back down over her stomach and when she reaches her hips, she moves them back to her ass and arches forward a bit. You feel the warmth between your legs as the blood flows down to engorge your lips, you move a little bit on the chair and just that movement alone sends a little jolt of pleasure through you. Glancing over to me, you see me rubbing my growing bulge through my shorts, caressing and letting my fingers tease the head... as I am fixated on the girl before us. She turns and places one knee on the bed, then the other as she leans forward. As she leans forward, her heart shaped ass slightly parts between her thighs to show the lips of her sex. She crawls forward and you hear a moan escape my lips as you once again look over and see my hand in my pants, gently stroking my cock. I look at you and smile and lick my lips. At the sight of me with my hand touching myself, you scootch forward just a bit and slip your hand under your panties. You let your fingers slide past the top of your pussy, over your clit and around the outside of your lips. You run your fingers back up on top of your lips and then push them apart as you make your way back down. Your fingers are instantly covered in your wetness and you begin to move your fingers up and down between your lips. The girl turn around and lays on the bed on her back. She opens her legs wide, exposing her pussy. With her hands on the inside of her thighs, she moves them down until they are over her sex. One hand moves up to her breast and the other begins to rub in circles her obviously wet pussy. She arches her back and begins to move her hips as she fucks her fingers. By now you can see that I have my hard fully erect cock out of my pants and I am stroking myself up and down, the head of my cock glistening with precum and my other hand cupped around my balls. You push your fingers inside you, feeling the heat, and your pussy begins to pulsate with pleasure as your dip your fingers in and out, in and out. I stand up and let my underwear fall to the ground. I step out of them and walk over to the side of the bed. I look back at you and wink. The girl removes her fingers from her snatch and runs them up her body as she turns to the side of the bed that i am on. She leans up on one elbow and opens up to take my cock in her mouth. Wrapping her full red lips around my shaft, she sucks as I begin to fuck her mouth. She takes me in deep and gags but keeps me inside and continues to blow me with wet slurping sounds... I pull out for a second and she follows my cock, taking it in her hand and running her tongue all over it before taking me inside again. Now, your fingers are rubbing your clit, in tight motions and you can feel the wetness dripping from your pussy between your ass cheeks and onto the chair. I pull out of her with a POP! and I go to sit down, my hard on bouncing in front of me as I walk, all wet and shiny with her saliva. She looks at you and smiles, her red lipstick smeared and she beckons for you to come closer. You stand up and walk to the other side of the bed. She rolls over to you and you lift your one leg on to the edge of the bed. She moves close and leans up to firmly place her tongue at the entrance of your pussy before she licks up... You feel a jolt of excitement as her tongue parts your lips. Her hands reach around and grab hold of your ass, pulling you on to her mouth as you bend your legs just slightly to allow her a better angle. She begins to lick you hard between your lips, taking a moment to flick your clit before sliding back down. Her hands on your ass pull your cheeks apart and you can feel the cool air on your asshole as she darts her tongue in and out of your pussy hole. She stops and looks up at you, her mouth covered in your nectar. She turns her head and looks at me and says, "Fuck her...on the chair" You walk back to the chair, your pussy throbbing and wet between your legs. I meet you at the chair and turn you around, pushing you forward so that your knees are on the chair and you are holding on to the back of the chair. You arch your back and push you ass out to me. I reach out and grab your hips and pull you towards me. You first feel the head of my cock pushing against the entrance of your pussy for a second before it slides in between your lips. They keep spreading as the girth of my shaft keeps going inside you until you can feel my pubic area up against your ass. I begin to fuck you from behind. Long deep strokes at first, almost coming all the way out... then harder and faster. Your tits, now released from your bra, are swaying back and forth with each thrust and you feel my balls slapping up against you. You look over your shoulder at the girl on the bed and she is watching us, furiously fingering her cunt. "MMmohhhh... fuck her ass, do it now!" the girl says in almost a choked up voice. As I pull out of your pussy, you can feel the void that was once my cock as my finger slips inside to get it all lubricated with your juices. I run the tip of my finger over your asshole... "Mm, god, just fuck me", you say. I pull your cheeks apart wide and push my cock into your ass, all the way in. The pain mixed with pleasure is indescribable and your hear a deep moan come from the girl behind us. I begin to fuck you in your ass and you can hear my grunts as I shove myself into you. Harder and faster.. the chair almost tips over a couple of times. I reach up and pull your hair back before giving your ass a hard SLAP once... and then another SLAP. I lean forward and reach between your legs to rub your clit and you begin to moan... Behind us, the girl begins to whimper and your steal a glance over your shoulder to see her, her eyes fixed on us and her hips beginning to buck. Just then you feel it, it begins between your legs and radiates out, your ass muscles clench my cock and you start to shake. My finger keep on your clit as my cock pumps in and out of your tight ass. "Mmmmmm,ggg,ohhhhh"... you push back against my thrusts. "Ahhhhhahhhhhhaaaa... aaahhhOohhhhH!" the girl cums hard as your orgasm bursts over the edge and your pussy and ass pulses with wave after wave of pleasure. Oh god..oh god.. oh GOD! I Yell as my orgasm spills my cum deep inside your ass. I keep on pumping it inside you as far as I can and when I stop, you feel my legs shaking... I pull out. You collapse on the chair and turn around feeling my seed dripping out of you. The girl is standing up, a wet spot on the bed where she lay. She walks over to me and kneels in front of me as I am sitting in the chair breathing hard. She takes my heavy semi hard dick into her mouth and sucks and licks it clean before standing up and putting on her robe and walking past us between the chairs, her hand lightly brushing against your arm as she walks by. You hear a creaking of the floor boards and there is that lingering scent of perfume... and then there is silence other than the sound of our breathing. _What kind of mind would come up with something like this..._ Dear Electra: I'm writing to say that all is forgiven, and that despite our little 'problem' I eventually did have a good time with you last Monday. No doubt that, given enough healing time (and drying time!), I'll look back on our time together and see nothing but the humour of the situation. Well, no - the humour and the sex! I really appreciate your efforts to 'pick up the pieces' and give me what I was looking for after all. Maybe I'm different from your other clients, not a ready-aim-fire kind of guy. No wham-bam-you know the rest for me. Not a guy whose testosterone spatters like superheated bacon grease. No, I wanted to talk with you, to get to know you, to have some intimacy if for only a while and importantly, to enjoy a main event with a, er...highly-skilled professional. Even though things didn't work out exactly as I had envisioned it, in the end I truly appreciate your being so considerate, accommodating and generous of yourself, all of it for me (and the money of course). I want to give something back and, I truly hope that what I'm about to tell you doesn't creep you out. I'm telling you this because I do care about you, your well-being and your safety, just in case something is amiss. You already know that on the Internet I go by the handle CheckItOutFirst and that I did a lot of checking-out-first on the web before choosing you for my first experience with an, er...independent female entrepreneur in the adult industry. One of the web sites I visited while I was still shopping was www. InsideTheEscort. com. This is a site that contains insights into the world of escort services both for clients and also for girls trying to learn the trade. I first looked at the site because I was intrigued by the double-entendre in the domain name. Even though we've done our deed already, and my shopping phase is long over, I casually dropped in to InsideTheEscort on Wednesday night, two days after our rendezvous. I was shocked at what I saw there. At first I felt outrage, angry at you. But then I thought, no, that doesn't seem like something Electra would do. She's too discreet, too nice. Then I realized that something was wrong and I'd better get in touch with you to let you know. What was posted there was what looks like a page from your diary! That's right. A page from your diary. Frankly, this is freaking me out. How it got there I do not know. Here's what it said verbatim: \---------- "Well today was my meeting with Bob (aka the CheckItOutFirst). Brother! Things couldn't have gone more wrong! It's a shame, too, because he really seemed like a nice guy. Somebody I could have as a regular or even as a friend. After that long introductory email he sent me it was crystal clear -- or so I thought! -- what he wanted in terms of fantasy. The poor guy must be obsessed, because he's obviously spent HOURS writing all that stuff in his email. It was an essay, I think about 1500 words. Imagine handing something like that in to your English teacher! Actually though, it was kind of fun to read. I've dumped the message already but now I wish I'd kept it. At times it was really funny - I remember him saying that he was an enthusiastic but inept golfer and between the sheets, the same. Ha! Another time he got me going a bit with his subtle erotica - he called it e-foreplay. And he was very specific about what he wanted and how he saw our time together going. Anyway, he made me curious about him. I was really looking forward to meeting him to see just what kind of character was behind the words. Now I wonder what he's thinking about ME, after the debacle! Fortunately, after our 'rocky' start, he eventually did seem to enjoy himself, and I don't think he's going to be posting a bad review of me on any of the escort review boards on the web. He seems like a decent guy so I'm hoping that my reputation will come out ok. But WOW! I wouldn't really blame him if he did dump all over me on the boards. I screwed up royally. Usually I'm pretty careful about my clients and their preferences, especially the new ones. I keep a coded notation in my appointment book to keep track of who wants what and when. This week, my book shows: Mon 12:30 2 Bob Trvldge B Tue 1:30 2 Jim Hltn Nrs Wed 3:00 3 Rick HldyIn ScGrl Thu Fri 10:30 2 hrs Al Hm B NoMkup You see, diary, how it's a little cryptic? That's on purpose in case, God forbid, somebody found my book. For each of my gentlemen I record the day, time, duration, client's name, location and a little code or a little short- form note about whatever role-play, special outfit or preparations they want me to make. I consider myself a flexible, creative girl and so I try to accommodate my men as best I can. Besides, fetish/fantasy always adds a little fun for me, too. After all, the usual drill - smalltalk, massage, blowjob, cowgirl, mish, and the 'yes, baby, yes!' -- can get pretty boring after a while. For my dates this week I had a few gentlemen who were into role-playing. For one I was going to be a businesswoman dressed conservatively, but a wildcat under the clothes. That one's easy for me. I've got a nice suit and lots of lacy things to wear underneath. I like that one, too, because I start out acting pretty uptight but then when the moment is right, I like to really turn on the supercharger and let him have it! To pretend that I'm all over the guy, that what he wants I don't care about, that it's just his cock I'm after, wow! They ask for it, so I give it to them. The truth is though, sometimes I don't pretend. Another of my gentlemen this week wants the naughty nurse. That one's easy too. A long time ago I realized that this one was going to be popular so I bought the outfit. You know, the ultra-short, starched white tunic -- it's hard to keep the stains out! -- the cap with the red cross, white lacy bra, panties, garter and stockings. "Are you ready for your sponge bath Mr. Smith? Your needle?" Of course there comes a time with this one that it's me who's being injected, though not with a needle! Probably I'm best at doing the schoolgirl. That one I can do two different ways, depending on what my gentleman prefers. If he wants I can be the naïve, innocent virgin, tempted into her first sexual experience by her horny, manipulative teacher. Or if he wants, he can be the uptight teacher and I'll be the naughty student tempting him. I'll flirt, bend over so he can see down my blouse or turn away from him and give him a peek under my skirt. Playing with an undone button or two usually gets them going. You get the idea. There's a weird one this week as well, Bozo the Clown. Now that's a new one! Nobody ever asked for that before! How a clown can be a sex fantasy, I'll never know but I always say, whatever floats your boat, baby! Versatile girl that I am, I agreed to it over the phone. It takes all kinds to fill the freeways, right? Now you see why I keep my little book. I talk to so many men, and I get so many requests for fetish/fantasy experiences, it's sometimes hard to keep them all straight. Who wants the naughty school girl again? Was it Jim, Rick, Al or Bob? Who wanted the nurse? The lawyer? The businesswoman? Catwoman? Dominatrix?... You'd think by now with all the requests, somebody might have asked for candle stick maker! The only one this week that I wasn't ready for was the clown. So I went to the mall (they've got all their Halloween stuff out) and got myself the full Bozo outfit: the polk-a-dot jumper, the big floppy shoes, the bright red wig, the makeup kit. Everything. I even thought of something else to jazz up the clown experience just a little bit, so I hunted high and low to find exactly what I was looking for, a little accessory to make Bozo Electra just a little more authentic. I wanted to be sure that I got it RIGHT so I even practised with the makeup beforehand. The white face, the circles around the eyes and the crosses through them, the big red nose and the most difficult part of all: the huge red mouth. When I was done (it took me almost an hour!), I stood back from the mirror and looked. Perfect! Ready for action. When I woke up on Monday I looked into my book and saw that it was Bob's day, a B. I skipped the gym because I knew I'd need extra time before my 12:30 appointment with him to get myself into the clown getup. You see, I knew I'd have to make an exception and, instead of dressing professionally and changing into Bozo once I was there (which would take the better part of an hour), it would be best to get into costume before I left home. Yes, people would stare and laugh at the sight of a clown and maybe a few kids would come up to say hello, but surely they wouldn't figure out what I was really up to. Still, I felt a little awkward about driving around town, walking through the hotel lobby and riding the elevator dressed as Bozo. But I guess this just comes with the responsibility of being a versatile girl. It's not easy being legendary! Well the long and short of it is this: I endured the embarrassment of being out and about dressed like a clown and finally arrived outside Bob's hotel room, my clown accessory at the ready. I knocked on the door and when it opened I gave it to him: a full blast in the face with my little accessory, the seltzer bottle. But I didn't stop there. I hosed him up and down, from top to bottom and then back to the top again. Poor Bob. He just stood there and took it. Yes, he flinched a little when I hit him right between the eyes at first, but he didn't slam the door or even back away. It's like he was a deer caught in the headlights. I aimed at his crotch, I aimed at his shoes. Back and forth, up and down. Everywhere the stream went, he just watched it splatter on him. Finally the bottle was empty. So there I was, in full Bozo regalia, holding an empty seltzer bottle with a huge, goofy grin on my face, waiting for somebody to make the next move. Bob hung his head for a long time, water dripping from his face, his hair, his clothes, making a puddle on the carpet. After a while, me still standing there grinning like an idiot, he raised his face calmly, and as if nothing whatsoever had happened, politely asked me "And you are?" Uh-oh. Wrong room? Right then I knew the wheels were falling off. "I'm Electra! What do you think of me so far?", I said. He took a step backward into the room and I followed so that he could close the door. Ok, at least it wasn't the wrong room. "Well actually, Electra, I don't know what to think. This isn't..." and there he stopped. "Isn't what?" I asked. "It isn't what I thought you'd be wearing, what I'd asked for." "You asked for the clown.", I said not so confidently anymore. "You're the clown guy, right? It's in my appointment book, right beside your name. 'B' for 'Bozo'. Bozo the clown, right?" We were standing right outside the bathroom, Bob soaked to the skin. I scooted in to get him a towel, trying my best to recover. He took it, thanked me and started to dry himself off. His clothes were sticking to him. He might as well have jumped into the hotel pool fully dressed. "Well actually, Electra" he said, "I don't know what you wrote in your appointment book, but I know I didn't ask you to be a clown. Actually, I'm a little like Kramer on Seinfeld. I don't like clowns." My heart sank. My mind was racing. He's the clown guy, isn't he? Isn't he? If he's not the clown guy, then who IS the clown guy? Jim? Rick? Al? If he's not the clown guy, what guy is he? I was getting panicky. "Actually, Electra, what I wanted was to fantasize about your being a lawyer or business woman...", his voice trailing off self-consciously. OH. MY. GOD! I thought. Then again, this time out loud. "OH. MY. GOD!" It was coming back to me now. Again Bob said, "Yes, I wanted a business woman, professionally dressed..." But before he could continue, I could remember it all: the precise, carefully worded request, the erotic writing he called e-foreplay that actually had me feeling a little hot. I could remember all of it. How could I have mixed him up with someone else? I finished his sentence for him. "...professionally dressed. Conservative on the outside, lacy femininity underneath. Stockings. Formal to start, sex- crazed later. " OH. MY. GOD! The makeup! He doesn't like lipstick. "Just a little makeup to enhance. No lipstick." And here I am in full whiteface with a HUGE red mouth. There was another long pause. The awkwardness was palpable. Now I'm an experienced girl and I've been in a lot of pretty unique, even scary situations. But I was really stuck now. My first impulse was to reach into my purse and slap a hundred bucks into his hand to cover his expenses, a partial customer refund if you like, and then get me the hell out of there! How humiliating! But Bob, a first-timer, handled it with a lot of class, like he'd seen just about everything in this business. He graciously took the lead and ever so gently let me off the hook. He looked at me as he said it, and I could tell from the look in his eyes that, while yes I'd screwed up once, he still was prepared to give things a whirl anyway. Give them a whirl, yes, but ONLY if I gave him my rock-your-world, top-drawer, Nobel prize winning, earth-shattering 'A' game for a good couple of hours. He said, looking at me all the while with a keen glint of mischief in his eyes, "Well, I'm getting kind of cold. I think I'd better get out of these wet clothes." I got the message. "And I'll scrub this stuff off my face. I'm SO sorry. Don't start without me, honey." \--------------- Now Electra, how this diary entry got onto the InsideTheEscort web site, I'll never know. I feel certain that you need just as much discretion as I do. But still, how did it get there? This is the big mystery and this is why I'm bringing it to your attention. If your own diary is an open book, who knows which of its secrets might be divulged? You could be the next Heidi Fleiss! Anyway, this is the end for us, Electra, so let me just say this: once the clown costume and makeup came off, in fact when it was all off, makeup, clothes, everything, I did indeed get to live out the fantasy I was looking for last Monday. You are the ultimate girl friend fantasy experience. Thanks, take care and no more clowning around. Your verbose, soaked friend, Bob (aka CheckItOutFirst) Is there such a thing as too much of anything in this life? I sure hope not. My name is Evelyn Kara Auberge. I am head over heels in love with a reformed player from the States. Here's a little bit about me. I was born in the town of Cap-Haitien in the island of Haiti but I barely remember it because I've lived in the region of Ontario, Canada, ever since I could remember. These days, I'm a recent graduate of Carleton University in the City of Ottawa ( I've got a Master's degree in Psychology ) and I also work as a Newcomer Issues Counselor for the Social Services Department. Since I speak like ten languages, and the Province of Ontario is a beacon for immigrants, they keep me around. I'm one of three non-White employees on the overcrowded first floor of the office headquarters. Nice, eh? When I'm not giving advice to people from places whose names I can't pronounce, I'm an amateur dominatrix. Right now, I'm dating this great guy named Adam Herbert. I met Adam while visiting some friends in the suburb of Kanata, Ontario. He recently moved there from his hometown of metropolitan Gary, State of Indiana. Adam is six feet two inches tall, well-built and handsome, with light brown skin, curly Black hair and pale green eyes. He was born in the United States to an Italian mother and African-American father. I was pleasantly surprised to meet a good- looking Black man in Kanata because it's quite possibly the whitest part of the City of Ottawa metropolitan area. Walk around Kanata and they stare at you if you're Black, Asian, Arab, Hispanic, Aboriginal or pretty much anything other than White. Trust me, I know. I've lived in Canada for twenty six of my twenty seven years. When Adam told me he was from America, I was shocked. Why in hell would an American move to Ottawa? Adam told me he came to the Province of Ontario for work opportunities. Things were BAD in the State of Indiana, apparently. We exchanged phone numbers, and got to know each other. By now I should know not to trust good-looking guys who have smooth operator written all over them. I did a bit of research on Adam Herbert. He was born in Gary, Indiana, on February 5, 1987. Damn. That makes him two years younger than me. I was born at Justinian Hospital in downtown Cap-Haitien, Republic of Haiti, on November 8, 1985. Adam was a real troublemaker in Indiana. A long list of petty crimes from theft inside Wal- Mart to joyriding and also indecent exposure. Yeah, Adam Herbert was bad news alright. How he managed to get a Canadian work permit with a list of offenses in his record, I'll never know. Looking into it, I found out why. All the stunts he pulled happened while he was still a brat. The grown-up Adam Herbert had a Bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice from Indiana University Northwest. Wow. I was impressed. Brother graduated with Honors and he was the valedictorian of his class back in 2007. Adam came to Ottawa looking for work, and he was getting frustrated. It's not easy being a foreigner in Canada, even if you're from almighty America. And if you happen to be Black, it's going to be tough as hell for you. I can relate, believe me. I'm a Canadian citizen who speaks French, English, Spanish, Haitian Creole, Portuguese, Swahili, Algerian Arabic, Mandarin Chinese, Japanese and German. I've got a Master's degree in Psychology from Carleton University, one of the best schools in the Ontario region of Canada. I'm smart and sexy, standing five feet eleven inches tall while barefoot. I've got dark brown skin, a curvy body and what fools refer to as a ghetto booty. I'm a Haitian woman with a big derriere there's not much I can do about it because I've got African DNA. It's a gift and a curse, believe me. I look good in business suits, and I'm always rocking my dreads. I'm not getting rid of them because they don't look 'professional.' If the Arab chick at work can wear her hijab on the job, I can wear my dreads. Thank you very much. I know I should be doing better things with my life than working at the Ottawa Department of Social Services, listening to immigrants whine about how tough life in Canada can be, all for a measly twenty bucks per hour. Before you cuss me out, listen up. In Canada, they tax you to death. Twenty bucks per hour is merely sixteen dollars after the government gets its taxes. In Canada, the minimum wage is ten dollars an hour. I don't make much more than people working at McDonalds, even though I've got degrees up the yin yang. Sounds like fun, eh? Yeah, believe me when I say I could relate to Adam Herbert's frustration with the system in Canada. I encouraged my new friend to enroll in Law School. I helped him with the process. First, we created an account for him with O.U.A.C. the Ontario Universities Application Center. Then he applied to the University of Ottawa's School of Law as an international student. He had to get his transcripts mailed from Indiana University Northwest, along with a study permit from the Canadian government. Now that Adam's application to one of Canada's best law schools was underway, he had to get himself a job. Adam applied to work with the Canadian Department of National Defense, since he had a Criminal Justice degree from the States and he was once in the U.S. Army National Guard. They told him they couldn't hire him because he was American, not Canadian. THAT really bothered Adam because the U.S. government hires foreign contractors from places like Canada, Australia, New Zealand and England all the time to work for government agencies. Unlike the American government, Canada was closed to foreigners. Adam grew semi-depressed after this and several other setbacks. Finally, I encouraged him to apply for work with an armored truck company. After all, he had a gun licence from the State of Indiana. Adam had to get a gun licence from the Province of Ontario, and that wasn't easy. He also had to undergo security guard training. Next came the security clearance process. His personal information was analyzed by the FBI on the U.S. side and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police on the Canadian side. After a grueling few months, he made it. He now drives an armored truck for G4S, a private security company, along with other armed guards on overnight shifts. I let Adam know that in Canada, they charge international students a lot more than local ones. He began working for G4S, making twenty five bucks per hour on eight-to-twelve hour shifts. It's always fun when a man rises above a woman in pay and accomplishment after she sacrifices so much to help him get where he's at. Isn't it? Throughout this lengthy and tedious process, I stood by Adam's side. He started making money, more money than me, in fact, and I told myself I was happy for him. The day he got accepted into Ottawa University's Law School, we went out to celebrate. My sexy American stud took me to this neat little restaurant called East Side Mario's, and we had ourselves a good time. I really enjoyed talking to him about his plans for the future. Adam was really optimistic. He thought he could make something of himself in Canada. I liked being with him, and the restaurant was neat. The food was delicious. Afterwards, we took the bus and walked around downtown. Just a well-dressed, happy and smiling non-couple. That night, Adam and I sat inside Confederation Park, looking at the stars. Yes, you can see them in the Ottawa night sky. I had so many thoughts swirling about my head. Throughout dinner and the entire outing, Adam mainly talked about himself. His plans at the University of Ottawa Law School. His goal of being an international lawyer, practicing both in Canada and America. Him. Him. Him. Oh, my. I sat there, silently wondering why I always chose these guys. At work, I help all kinds of people. Sometimes it's rewarding. Often, they don't even remember me five minutes after I've done everything I can to help improve their lives. That's always been my problem. I take care of people. I send money to my parents in Montreal, Quebec. They're enjoying their retirement. I send money to my older brother Jose, who does nothing with his time except chasing and impregnating fat white women. Why he bothered getting a Master's degree in Art History from Carleton University, I'll never know. I take care of everyone. Who takes care of me? I thought about my ex-boyfriend Lars Henderson. He seemed like a dream come true at first. Tall and good-looking, with alabaster skin, blond hair and blue eyes. A native of Heidelberg, Germany, he came to Ottawa, Ontario, to study civil engineering at Carleton University. We met during my last year in the psych program. I date men of different races and cultures. Black men, white men, Hispanic men, doesn't matter as long as the chemistry is right. I fell for Lars. He seemed like he was out to conquer the world, and he called me his Black Goddess. I'm tall, chubby and nerdy. Nobody ever called me a Goddess before. Yeah, I fell for him. And he cheated on me with a Chinese bitch. Yeah, I've got lousy taste in men. Doesn't matter what color they are, I tend to fall for men who love themselves. Here I was, sitting on the park bench with Adam, listening to him talk about himself. Argh. I seriously felt like screaming. What stopped me? Adam gently took my hand. That made me freeze. He'd never even touched me before, except playfully and teasingly, in a buddy kind of way. Adam took my hand and looked into my eyes. Smiling, he brought my hand to his lips. When he did that, a tingle spread from the top of my hand to....well, everywhere. Adam smiled, and thanked me for helping him. Locking eyes with me, he told me that he'd be nothing without me. He would have given up on himself and his dreams if I hadn't been there, helping him along the way. I smiled at him. Adam smiled cockily, and then he kissed me.

America's Playboy...What's His Secret? How does an old man get beautiful, buxom, big boob, blonde bombshells? When Anthony flew out to LA, he told everyone that he was going there because he needed a vacation. Only, truth be told, he went to LA because he owed a bookie, Julio Russo, money, a lot of money and rather than have his legs broken or worse, he decided to go west. He had never been to California, specifically LA, but he begrudgingly went when Julio Russo made him an offer that he couldn't refuse. It all started when Julio Russo saw yet another photo in the newspaper again. He threw the entertainment section of the newspaper down on the counter. "Look at this fuckin' guy, America's fuckin' playboy. How does someone this fuckin' old get broads who look this fuckin' good? Look at these fuckin' broads. He's forty to sixty years older than them. He's old enough to be their father. He's old enough to be their grandfather. All of them are beautiful, buxom, big boob, blonde bombshells. And it's been like that with him for fifty fuckin' years. He's such a fuckin' pig. He's fucked everybody. He's probably had more pussy than Wilt Chamberlain. I don't get it. How does he do it? What's his secret?" Mario scooped up the newspaper while Vito and Angelo looked over his shoulder. "Holy shit, Boss, those are three good looking broads," said Angelo whistling his appreciation for the beauty of the women after studying the photo. "I'd love to get with any one of them, never mind having the three of them together." "Wow, look at the tits on that one," said Vito. "Momma Mia! I'd love to rub my face in those big breasts." "Look at her ass. I'd love to slide my dick into that," said Mario. "Can you imagine being naked and in bed with her? Oh, my God." "Imagine the possibilities of having three women who look like that in bed with you," said Angelo giving Mario a nudge while looking at him. Mama Mia," he said waving his hand up and down and whistling. "That's the way that I want to die when I die. I want to die with three beautiful, buxom, big boob blonde bombshells in bed with me. Wow! I'd die happy and with a big smile on my face. What a way to go." "You die like that and Saint Peter won't allow you in Heaven," said Vito shaking his head and making the sign of the cross. "Won't allow me in Heaven? Are you kidding me? Saint Peter is a man or once was a man, that is, before he became an Angel. He'd understand when he asked me the question how I died. I'd tell him that I died happy. I'd tell him that I died with a big smile of my face. I'd tell Saint Peter that I died while doing something that I love to do," said Angelo moving his hand back and forth. "I'd tell him that I died sharing myself with others who were less fortunate and who didn't have me in their lives," he said with a laugh. "I'd tell him that I died giving pleasure to the masses of women kind, well, at least to three beautiful, buxom, big boob, blonde bombshells," said Angelo laughing. "What you just said is sacrilegious," said Vito making the sign of the cross again. "You're going to Hell when you die. You're doomed. Even Saint Peter won't be able to save you from burning in Hell's fires." "Well, I'm going to Hell already, Vito," said Angelo waving a hand of despair at him. "I've done much worse than being sacrilegious with Saint Peter's name. I think I've already broken all the Ten Commandments a few times over. The devil and I are pals." He nudged Mario with his elbow and said, "Hey Mario, the devil is a friend of mine." "Read the article," said Julio pummeling the newspaper with his fat, stubby finger. "Read the fuckin' article. Look at that, they all fuckin' live with him. Do you believe that shit? He's got three broads who look like that living with him. Let me ask you guys a question. You tell me this, why would three beautiful broads who look as good as that and who can get any man they'd like want to live with someone this fuckin' old, unless he was their fuckin' grandfather or unless he was using some kind of mind control shit on them?" "Mind control? Nah. Maybe, he is their grandfather, Boss," said Angelo winking at Mario. "Grandfather my ass. He's their Sugar Daddy. Sugar Granddaddy is more like it." Julio started pacing the room while thinking. He always paced when he didn't understand something. "It's got to be something more there that what meets the eye here. Only, what the Hell could it be? I don't get it," he said walking while shaking his head from side to side. "How the fuck does he do it?" "I don't know, Boss," said Angelo. "Maybe he's got a big cock. Maybe his cum taste like cotton candy and that's why they call him a Sugar Daddy or Sugar Granddaddy," he said laughing at his own old ill humor. "Yeah, a big, old, soft cock that oozes sugar that tastes like cotton candy," laughed Mario. "Do you ever listen to some of the shit that comes out of your mouth? Don't you never think about what you're gonna say before you say it? Do you realize some of the stupid shit you say? You embarrass me all the fuckin' time. You should think about what you are going to say before you say it and then just don't fuckin' say it. Sometimes, it's better just to be fuckin' quiet. Sometimes, it's better just to listen." "Hey, at least I finished high school," said Angelo. "At least I graduated." "Yeah, well, just 'cause your educated doesn't mean that you're smart. You might have book smarts, but I have street smarts and commonsense, which you ain't got neither of those. Besides, I got my GED when I was in the Army serving my country," said Mario sitting up straight and puffing out his chest. I was staff sergeant of supply. "Is that what you call it, serving your country? You were stealing whatever you could out of the PX. The Army couldn't wait for you to end your service," said Angelo laughing. "You're lucky they didn't Court Marshal you and stick you in Federal Prison. No wonder why we spent so much in Iraq. It's because you stole everything that wasn't nailed down. They had to appropriate more money because of all the shit you stole," he said laughing. Angelo and Mario continued their squabbling in the background while Julio pondered how someone so old could get women so young. "Hey, I got big salami in my pants and I don't get any broads who look like that," said Julio. "Even when I was younger and was better lookin' than I am now and not as heavy, I still didn't get no broads who look like that." "It's probably all for show, Boss. He does it for his image to promote himself, is all. Maybe he doesn't do anything with them but stare at them all day and all night," said Mario. "Maybe at night they just spoon and cuddle is all. Maybe, they are even allowed to have boyfriends and to have sex with other men and/or women. Maybe he just likes to watch them having sex while jerking off. Fuck, they probably all sleep in different beds for all we know. For all we know, they're probably lesbians, Boss." "Nah, I ain't never seen no lesbians who look as good as that," chimed in Vito. "Normally lesbians are fat and ugly and don't shave their legs and underarms. Normally, lesbians don't like men. Matter of fact, they hate men. They'd rather die than to fuck a man. They'd never be standing there and smiling like that to take a photo like that. They'd embarrass themselves to all their other lesbian friends to look so happy being with this degenerate." "Well, if you consider a woman who is fat and ugly and who doesn't shave her legs and underarms a lesbian, she could be a Sicilian woman instead of a lesbian. She could be a French woman. The French women don't shave their legs and underarms. And did you ever see the bush on a French woman? Momma, they have hair as black and as thick as they have on their head," said Mario laughing while making a sour face. "I'd never be with a woman who didn't shave her legs and underarms. I'd feel like I was doin' a guy." "Hey, you'd be surprised. There are some beautiful lesbians out there who'd you never think they were pussy lickers. What about that big, tall blonde from Texas that died of an overdose recently? She was a lesbian," said Angelo. "She preferred women to men." "Who Anna Nicole? Nah, she wasn't a lesbian. She was just another slut," said Mario. She loved men and love sucking cocks too much. Don't you remember we watched her sex video? Now, that was hot. No lesbian I know could make a sex video like that." "Yeah, Anna Nicole, that's right. I always forget her name. She was a lesbian and she was really beautiful," said Angelo. "She said she was a lesbian when she had that television show, The Anna Nicole Show. Maybe, she liked both pussies and cocks. Maybe, she was one of those bisexuals who swung both ways." "Yeah, that could be. I could see her being a bisexual, but not a lesbian." "Oh, and what about that Sharon Stone and the one who played in the quiet sheep movie. Oh, yeah, and what about Madonna. Definitely she's a lesbian the way that she kissed Britney Spears. Now, that was hot. Oh, yeah, and Britney Spears is a lesbian, too, in the way she returned Madonna's kiss with a French kiss and then when they caught Britney Spears with those two women exchanging bikinis. Yeah, Britney Spears is a lesbian alright. They are all beautiful women and they are all dykes." "Quiet sheep movie? What the fuck you talkin' about, Angelo?" Mario looked at his friend with disbelief. "Do you mean Jodie Foster in Silence of the Lambs?" "Yeah, her. She's a lesbian," said Angelo. "Maybe so, but all those broads put together don't look any where as good as these three broads do separately. Are you kiddin' me? Just look at these three beauties. I ain't never seen women as gorgeous as these three," said Mario. "Listen to me," said Julio getting agitated more now by the conversation of his knuckleheaded captains than by the photo. "That's what I'm fuckin' talkin' about. How the Hell does this senior of senior citizens get three young, beautiful blondes to spoon and cuddle in bed with him? You tell me that," he said looking from Mario to Angelo and to Vito while banging his finger on the newspaper. "How? I don't get it. I just don't get it." He threw his hands up in the air and returned to pacing back and forth in the room. "It makes no fuckin' sense to me." "Maybe, it's like what Mario said, Boss. It's just one of those, what do you call them, platonic relationships," said Angelo. "Plutonic my ass. What the Hell does planet Pluto have to do with what I'm talkin' about here. I'm talkin' about broads and I'm talkin' about controlling those broads with your mind, you moron. What d'ya have wax in your ears and can't hear me so good?" Julio put his hands on the table and leaned his fat belly into Angelo's shoulder. He knew to be quiet when the boss was agitated like this, but spoke anyway. "Take it easy, Boss. You're getting all riled up over a photo in the paper. It don't mean nothin'. It's just a picture," said Angelo knowing not to correct his boss about planet Pluto and knowing not to make his boss appear stupid. "Listen to me; I don't care how old you are, unless you are retarded or a vegetable, if you are living with three broads who look like that," he used his index finger to pontificate his point by pounding the paper with it, "you're gonna do more than just stare at them and you're going to do more at night than just spooning with them. Capice? Definitely, you're gonna want to touch them in a sexual way and you're going want them to touch you in a sexual way," said Julio waving his fat finger in Angelo's face. "Momma, if I was spooning with these three broads, I'd have an erection that would keep me up all night. And I'll tell you somethin' else. I'm gonna find out how the Hell this guy does it so that I can do it, too." "Okay Boss, okay. Calm down," said Angelo patting him on the back. "You'll get yourself all nervous like that and you'll give yourself agita or take a heart attack." Julio stood and walked away from the table where his three captains were still sitting looking at the photo. "I'm jealous of him." There was a long silent pause. His three captains stared over at their boss. "When I get old and if I live to be his age, I don't want to be alone without no broads," said Julio suddenly showing a face that appeared sad. Immediately, he looked away from his Captains. "I can't imagine a life with no broads, you know? I can't imagine not having sex no more. I'd kill myself if I had no broad in my life and if I couldn't get it up no more." "I can sympathize with your predicament, Boss, but people in our business, especially bosses who have the responsibility of a family haven't been known to live long enough to collect a Social Security check," said Angelo choosing his words carefully and looking up at the receiver of his message to see how his message was taken. "That is, except for Whitey Bulger, but he's on the run. Besides, he's probably dead already. The FBI probably killed him to keep him quiet and they'll never find his body unless a FBI agent rats it." "What the Hell does that mean? You don't think I'll live to see my retirement? You know somethin' that I don't know? You lookin' to be the boss of this family? You lookin' to take me out? I ought to plug you full of holes right here and right now," said Julio pushing a chair out of the way and putting his hand on his gun. "No, no Boss, I was just making an observation is all," said Angelo. "Gees, take it easy. I didn't mean anything by it. I wasn't even talkin' about you." "Angelo meant nothing by what he said, Boss. He's just a stupid fuck, Boss. He always says stupid stuff," said Mario looking at his friend. "Right Angie?" "Yeah, yeah, Boss, Mario is right. I always say stupid stuff. I meant no disrespect to you or to this family. I'm sorry." "Maybe he hypnotizes them, Boss," said Vito. "Maybe he uses some kind of mind control to get them to do whatever he wants." Now it was Vito who had Julio's focused attention. "Yeah, yeah, that's what I was thinkin', Vito. It's got to be somethin' like that," said Julio. "I had a friend who could give hypnotic suggestions. He started hypnotizing girls to put them in a trance so that he could feel them up. Then, he graduated to hypnotizing girls so he could get them to give him a blowjob. He even had a women strip naked once right out in the middle of the street. She was the mother of a kid I used to play with. It was so hot to watch this woman remove her housecoat, her panties and her bra and stand there naked with her eyes closed and her head forward until my friend gave her the command to come out of the trance." Julio, Mario, and Angelo listened to Vito in stunned silence. "Yeah, so what happened when he woke her up," said Angelo. "She couldn't believe it when she woke up. He was laughing his ass off and she was so embarrassed. She didn't know what to cover first. We were just kids. I don't know how the Hell he did it, but he did." "See? That's what I'm talkin' about," said Julio. "Mind control and hypnotic suggestions is probably how he gets all these broads. He probably hypnotized them to think that he is a young stud." Julio looked at Vito. "Where is this friend now who hypnotizes women? Maybe, he could show me how he does it, so that I can try it, too." "Oh, he moved away. I have no idea where he is, Boss. This was twenty years ago." "Hypnosis. Yeah, yeah, I never thought of that and now that you mention it, it makes perfect sense," said Julio. "That hypnosis shit is very powerful stuff, very powerful. Sure, sure, it could be that. He could be a master of hypnosis. That could be how he gets all these beautiful broads. How else could he get them?" In the next chapter Boss Russo is determine to find out how an old man has so many young, beautiful girlfriends. * _Thank you for reading my story. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. Please take a moment to vote, make a public comment, and/or give me feedback. Your support is why I write. Your feedback will motivate me to write a better story the next time._ If you haven't already, please take moment to add me and/or this story or any other of my stories to your list of favorites. Thanks, Freddie, Bostonfictionwriter. To be continued... _This chapter introduces the characters, explains the relationship among characters. Most of it summarizes an incident that has triggered everything that has happened after that, which will be narrated in the succeeding chapters._ She can be a real bitch sometimes. Diya is 37. She is incredibly hot ( which I recently started to notice ). Her skin looks like its made of butter. She has a deep navel which is often exposed to the world when she wears sarees (during festivals and family functions). Her body is surprising lean for her age. I will describe more about her features later. Like I said, She is a total bitch, a selfish bitch. All she does is, party with her bitch friends. She cares for no one, not even her son. And, of course I am her son. I know that there is more to her than what catches the eye. Let me introduce myself, My name is Mahesh, I am 18, still in school. I have to stress the word "still" since I am bit dull. My mother resents me for it, atleast I think so. I live in a comfortable apartment in Bangalore, with my divorced mother. I love her so much, more than anything else, more than myself. She is the only family I got left. My mother, being an integral part of the company, works 10 to 12 hours a day. We barely see each other, let alone have a conversation. I have expressed my concerns many times, she didn't even pretend to care. I guess I can understand after all that happened to her, to us. It happened almost a year ago; my parents started fighting. My father started cheating on my mom. His intentions were clear. He wanted a divorce. But my innocent mother wanted to save the family. So, the drama began. My father started being more and more open with his cheating but my mother kept quiet, hoping that everything will somehow go back to normal. It just got worse. He became more and more perverted. He started to talk about his conquests with her, in front of me. One sunday afternoon, me and my mom came back home from shopping. What happened that day changed our lives forever. There he was, my dad fucking his secretary (Neha) in the ass, in the middle of our living room. I saw things I have never seen before. For the first time in my life, I saw an adult cock, making weird noises, going in and out of Neha's asshole, A women who I saw as a sister, who is young enough to be my sister. For 2 minutes me and my mom stood there, still in shock, while my dad continued sodomizing Neha.My young mind, unable to face reality, drifted back to the past. We used to be a conservative family. Wake up in the morning at 6 am, go to school in time, go back to bed at 10 pm. Regular poojas every friday. We used to visit the nearest temples very week or so, and talk about spiritual shit. A loud noise carried me back to the present. On the background of this catastrope, porn was running on the TV, 3 guys are nailing a milf, filling all her holes, in an unconventional style. Loud enough to make the neighbours in our floor uncomfortable. And I could find cum stains, even on the TV screen. There was cum everywhere, the sofa, the floor. I just realized that there could be more than one male in the house, excluding me of course. We were in for another shock. Two naked men sneaked up on my mom, from behind, grabbed her and placed her head on the sofa facing Neha's asshole, just underneath the action ( anal sex ). They must be using some kind of a lubricant. It started dripping on my mom's face instead of the sofa. My mom dint fight back, she didn't even move, She was surprisingly quiet. Her calmness started to scare me now. The other 2 men started to remove my mom's saree, in a rough fashion. I now recognized those 2 men from my dad's office. They are Pankaj and Gurdeep Gupta who jointly owned the firm. While these thoughts were running through my mind, my dad pulled his relatively huge cock out of her ass with a popping sound and shoved it in my mom's mouth, all the way. I mean, ALL THE WAY down her throat. That was the breaking point for me, watching my beautiful conservative mom gagging on a huge cock, hot out of my kinda sister's ass. Looking at my dad's bosses almost naked in our living room where I spent most of my childhood, imagining what they are about to do to my surprisingly calm mother, I couldn't take it anymore. I guess I just passed out. When I woke up It was already 11:30 pm. I slept for 9 hours straight. I jumped out of the sofa, when I realized that I've been sleeping on the same sofa, where the whole shebang happened. My mom, dad and everyone else left the place, it was silent and empty, except for the porn running in low volume on the TV. The whole place smelled like cum, a smell which I am more than familiar with now. There were a few pizza boxes lying around on the floor. There was slice of pizza which was clearly soaked in cum; and also I felt like I just ate a whole large pizza. I stopped asking questions, found a clean spot on the sofa, sat there watching porn for around 5 minutes while I recollected that day's events, atleast what I could remember. The image of my mom being naked on top of me, slapping me came to mind. It must have been a dream, after all, a teen's mind can only process so much. After that day, my dad stopped coming to the house. They split up, filed a divorce and moved on with their lives. My mom and me continued living in our house. I never asked what happened that day (to me) when I was passed out. She never cared to explain. We stopped talking about dad and as days passed we stopped talking about anything. My mom started working long hours, she was rewarded with a promotion. She stopped doing household chores like cleaning the house, making me breakfast. I am like a ghost to her. I still cared about my mom. I made her breakfast and made sure she eats it before she leaves early in the morning. My life went down the gutter. I barely go to school, I sit around the house watching porn all day. I still get nightmares about that day. I keep reliving it again and again every night. What puzzles me is the end. I left the sofa to take a bath. When I went into the restroom and saw my face in the mirror, I realized that my face was covered with cum stains. There was dried up cum on my lips. There was more than one man's cum on my face. What happened that day? How could my mother let it happen to me? And why does it turn me on so much? _This is my first erotic story. Please leave your comments below and let me know whether I should continue._

Jamie Jacobs was sitting at his computer and putting the finishing touches to his latest mission design. He and his friends spent a lot of time using the game editor to make missions they then exchanged between themselves. This particular mission was going to be a blast and Jamie had but to finish recording the briefing voices, knowing full well that his imitation of Yoda's voice will bring much laughter to his friends. He glanced at his bedside clock, he had ten minutes until the start of his favorite TV show. He took a deep breath and depressed the microphone button. Jamie found himself coming to from losing his train of thought. He frequently daydreamed. Last two weeks, however, he found himself snapping to from a sort of stupor from which he couldn't remember not only the original distracting thought, but also the entirety of his daydreaming. On top of that, he was tired all the time. He yawned and scratched his beard, reminding himself that he needed to shave tomorrow morning, before going to school, and then he remembered he was going to record a funny voice briefing. Jamie glanced at the clock, seeing that the episode he wanted to watch had begun some fifteen minutes ago. He cursed softly, pressed the button to disconnect the microphone, turned off the monitor and desk lamp, and rushed to the den to watch the remainder of the episode. When Jamie came back to his room, he was a little miffed that he missed out on the resolution of last episode's cliffhanger. All the characters were just there and Jamie hated not knowing how the episode began. He would have to look it up online. His brow furrowed. He was alternating between being angry with himself for sitting idly for twenty minutes and being worried that he might have had some sort of seizure which caused him to lose those twenty minutes of his life. He was standing there completely baffled as to why he couldn't remember anything. He pressed his memory and kept coming up with pressing the mic button and then coming to, nothing in between. Jamie let out a mighty groan of frustration and sat down in front of his computer. Then he realized that he turned the mic off before rushing to the den, but after the lost time. Jamie's eyes bugged out when he saw that his hard drive housed a twenty minute audio file, which his sound editor software clearly showed was not twenty minutes of flat line silence. He connected his earphones and played the file. The first sound was that of his room door opening, followed quickly by Jamie's own voice exclaiming, "Helena! What are you doing here!?" Jamie paused the playback and took his earphones off like they were burning him. He jumped out of his seat and went to the window, looking across his parents' backyard at the backyard of Helena Worth's house, just sixty feet away. There was a light on in her room, which was upstairs and facing their backyards, just like Jamie's. Jamie peered across the dusky distance and saw that Helena was changing into her bedclothes. Helena had been his neighbor for his whole life and they were originally friendly to each other, despite their parents' big differences in income. When you're a kid, all that matters is that there is another kid your age on the next street over, and thus a friendship is often born. One summer, before they entered middle school, Helena realized that her family was several income brackets above Jamie's and publicly terminated their friendship with little regard for her playmate's feelings. After they started high school, Helena joined the bitch squad, frequently known as the cheerleaders, and all the interactions the two of them had were those of her mocking him and pointing out his utter lack of fashionable, label clothing before the whole class. Possibly she was so zealous in her mocking of Jamie because she felt some sort of fear that Jamie would tell on the fact that she used to be a little girl that wore overalls and pigtails a la Pippi Longstocking and hung out with him. Jamie avoided Helena at all times, except when he was home in the evenings, when he would turn off all the lights in his room and gaze across at the statuesque blonde changing clothes with her lights on and the drapes open. Jamie frequently thought she did that on purpose. She was almost six feet tall and athletic. When she tanned over the summer, her skin stayed noticeably bronzed all the way until Christmas. She had a narrow face with high cheekbones and the only fault Jamie could find with her was the fact that her breasts were, by and large, nonexistent. Jamie's mouth fell open when he now saw that his favorite inspiration for masturbation was sporting a discernible "rack" right across the yard. He sat on the floor of his room with his back to the window and wondered how that could be. He distinctly remembered masturbating furiously (twice!) to the sight of a topless, flatchested Helena just last week. Jamie fought back a rising sense of panic and let out a deep breath he didn't even realize he was holding. He knew breasts didn't grow overnight. Every girl in his school that "grew a rack overnight", did so over a period of months and was only noticed one spring school day when the weather denied any opportunity for concealing clothing, but here, either Helena literally grew overnight, or Jamie was seriously losing his marbles. Considering the fact that he had a recording of a conversation with her in his room, a conversation that he could not remember at all, he was leaning towards the latter explanation. He pulled down the shade on his window and returned to his computer, forsaking the opportunity to ogle Helena, and continued the playback. Helena's voice spoke a few strange syllables then said "Be silent!" and Jamie's voice suddenly cut out mid-question. "Sit back down." commanded the haughty blonde and Jamie could hear the chair creak to confirm that he did. "Get hard and take out your cock." was her next command, followed by the rustling of Jamie's jeans. Jamie looked down at his jeans, seeing no trace of anything untoward that had happened, but feeling a distinct tightness developing in his boxers. "Good. Stroke it. Okay, stop panicking and enjoy this. I still hate it when your eyes go wild like that." Jamie was utterly stunned. How could this have happened in his room, with his parents just ten feet away, and him having no memory of it at all less than an hour later? How could he be getting hard listening to a recording of apparently being raped by his neighbor? Why did she say "still hate it"? Did this happen more than once? Why did she do this to him? The questions piled on, but Jamie patiently listened to himself masturbating at her direction and climaxing all over her bosom as she directed him to do. Afterwards, he couldn't make out the sounds she spat out before she commanded him to clean up, get dressed, count to a hundred slowly, calming himself with each number and then forgetting everything that happened since just before she entered his room. He replayed the recording several times, gradually coming to terms with a few facts. Helena was a witch that could command him. She used him to apparently make her breasts grow and wiped his memory of it. She was probably doing it for two weeks now. He went to the kitchen and idly chatted with his mother, who always liked Helena. After he turned the chat to the subject of the newly discovered witch, he realized his mother had no memory of Helena being there that night either. Jamie retreated to his room, but he did not feel safe anymore, not in his room, not anywhere. He peaked through the shades at the window of her room. There was no light, no activity. He didn't have a lock on his door and began fearing she might come back to do something to him again. Who could he turn to for help without getting locked up and medicated? Even his mother was bewitched, and he feared Helena could do that to anyone, a cop, a doctor, anyone. He spent a sleepless night in a state of almost panic, jumping at every sound a house makes in the dark. By the morning, he was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. School was a nightmare. He barely stayed awake during his classes and ditched math to avoid being in the same room with Helena. Later, he regretted that, thinking his absence might be a red flag to her. His head was swimming with scenarios, each more terrible than the last, until he collapsed behind the gym, out of breath with panic. As his sight grew dim, and the weight pressed down on his chest, Jamie remembered that Helena's breasts grew, and that he was commanded to cum all over them. His gut told him that the growth was the witch's doing, but what if it wasn't? Why was he even involved? What if it was a matter of him having magical sperm? The thoughts of a porn career, or a super successful and enjoyable breast enlargement clinic brought him back to life. Women could be lining up to give him money and a blowjob and have him cum all over their boobs. The crazy images those thoughts conjured up in his mind broke Jamie's cycle of panic. He took a deep breath, got up and dusted himself off. He strode away from the school with a newfound sense of purpose. He wasn't going to be scared and used by anyone. Not even for breast growth. "What ate you up and shat you out, man," asked Cyrus as he was greeted by the sight of a wobbling, unshaven and disheveled Jamie at his doorstep. "Don't even ask," mumbled Jamie. Cyrus let Jamie in and held him up when he stumbled. "You alright there, J.J.," he asked with genuine concern. "Yeah, I'm fine," lied Jamie and collapsed onto Cyrus' living room sofa. "Just didn't get enough sleep last night." "Ah, yes," said Cyrus sagely, "you must have had an all-nighter of imaginary sex with insert name of porn star here. Note that I didn't specify the gender of your porn star," Cyrus jabbed. Jamie raised his head and growled. Cyrus snorted in reply and fetched a pair of beers from his fridge. He opened them and gave one to Jamie. "Here you go, young master Jacobs," intoned Cyrus with a bad British accent, "something to finish you off." Jamie took a long sip. Cyrus sat down in the armchair opposite the sofa, cleared his throat and said, "Seriously J.J., what the fuck are you doing here on a school day? Princeton accepted you already?" Jamie briefly considered confiding in his older friend, but opted against it. He leaned forward in his seat and adopted a conspiratory tone, "I need some help. No questions asked. Have you got something like that crap you see in the movies, where you turn someone's cell phone into a listening device?" Cyrus raised an eyebrow. "Without them knowing about it," added Jamie. Cyrus had a way with computers and electronics, and Jamie always imagined the older boy had ties to organized crime or something. Cyrus leaned forward. "What type of cell phone are we talking about," he asked businesslike. Jamie felt blessed relief. Less than an hour later, Jamie was tipsy and dragging his tired feet home. Cyrus gave him everything he would need to spy on his witch neighbor. In lieu of instructions, Cyrus gave him a hastily typed up document with lots of diagrams, as Jamie was too fatigued and drunk to commit anything to memory. Still, the closer Jamie got to his house, the more hopeful he felt. "Know your enemy," thought Jamie. "And knowing is half the battle," he shouted out loud and belched. He stumbled into his house after a long fumbling with the keys and went straight to bed, thankful for once his parents were both working double shifts that day. Jamie's rest was undisturbed that night and he woke up in time to peruse the instructions and set up the software on his own cell phone before heading off to school. At school, he sat close to Helena's table during lunch and typed her cell phone number into the program. Ten tense seconds later, the deed was done, the control software transferred. He had a spring in his step for the rest of the day. When he got home, he booted up his computer and checked the results of his wiretap. He now had complete access to Helena's phone. He saw she made three phone calls, and sent and received a dozen text messages since lunch, and there was almost a hundred stored messages and several voicemails he could access. He downloaded it all and began perusing them in chronological order. There was very little that could be interpreted as incriminating evidence of witchcraft. Jamie rubbed his temples in frustration, it seemed his hopes of not being a helpless witch's puppet were entirely unfounded, when a beep and a blinking icon on his screen alerted him to the fact Helena's phone was ringing. He put his earphones on and clicked the icon just as Helena answered her phone. The voice on the other end was that of Sonya Mitchell, a tall brunette from the cheerleading squad that had the same ideas on "proper behavior" as Helena. "Ohmahgawd, I can not beeeeeelieeeeve it's working," shrieked Sonya, and Jamie's heart leaped into his throat. This must be it. "Damn, your tits are fine! How big they gonna grow," inquired Sonya. Oh, yes, this was it. "I cast the spell to be a C cup, so two more shots and I'm there," giggled Helena. "Well," said Sonya, "Sandra and Rose are beside themselves! They can't wait 'till Saturday to get their own shots!" As the girls giggled over the phone, Jamie panicked at the thought of stroking himself in front of four girls. His reverie was broken by Sonya's voice. "So, which one of us goes first," she inquired. "Well, you'll all come over on Saturday to cast the spell," said Helena "I know he'll be home and in range, 'cause I've spelled his mom to keep tabs on him for me." A sense of dread came over Jamie as he heard those words. "Remember what I said, it doesn't matter who casts her spell first, or in which order you get him to spray you, the girl that has the most inner power will grow fastest. I suspect Sandra will be a D cup in five or six spurts." "Yeah, the lucky bitch," drawled Sonya "Anyhoooo, what time on Saturday?" "Be here at four, but we won't start 'till six, six thirty. You still got a lotta learnin' to do," said Helena. "Okay, I'll tell the bitches," said Sonya, and the girls exchanged goodbyes. If Jamie's head had been spinning before, it was a freaking propeller by now. He was going to be used by an entire coven of witches starting the day after tomorrow, and his mother, that had recently seemed a bit smothering, was an enemy spy, unknowingly working to subjugate her son. Jamie was replaying what he heard in his head, particularly the part about him "being in range", whatever that meant, when he heard Helena's voice sigh over the wiretap, "Time for another spurt from the little freak." Jamie panicked and turned to the window. He could just see Helena exiting her room. She was going to come to his house, his room and spell him again. He considered running, but decided against it. Not only did he fear tipping her off to his only advantage, but a big part of him wanted to see her naked. Jamie's mind raced with the estimate of how long would it take Helena to come to the end of her street and walk up his street. "No climbing a fence for little miss Worth," he muttered angrily to himself. He quickly decided to stay put and film the whole thing with his web cam. He put it in a hidden spot on the shelf and framed his shot carefully. He wanted to have a nice view of this rack he was helping to make. Then he panicked thinking about the memory wipes. What if she told him to forget anything about her and the spells? He quickly turned on his microphone and dictated for himself a hurried narrative of what had happened and saved the audio file in a system directory. He wrote a note to himself to listen to that file and stuffed it into his wallet compartment where he kept his lunch money hidden. He decided to leave the mic open to get a second recording of things and went over his room one more time to make sure there wasn't anything that might tip her off. After that, Jamie sat in the camera frame and tried to clear his mind to be able to act convincingly. Jamie stretched his tired muscles and looked at the clock. He had nearly fallen asleep waiting for Helena to cross the short distance around one street corner. His whole body was feeling exhausted. Jamie took a look out his window and saw a light coming on in Helena's room. He startled and fell off his chair. A thousand questions popped in his head. What time was it when she left home? Was it as dark outside as it was now? Seeing Helena take off her sweater across the way, Jamie felt he had been had yet again. He double checked the time stamp of the phone call he listened to on her phone and saw that it was almost a half an hour ago, not ten minutes. Sure enough, there were two files being recorded on his hard drive, an audio and a video. He stopped them both and rubbed his tired eyes. He was exhausted and he saved everything on his computer and went to sleep. After Jamie came home from school the next day, he immediately turned on his computer and checked where Helena was. Her phone's GPS coordinates put her at the mall. Jamie loaded the video of his rape last night and broke out the wanking paraphernalia. There he was, sitting in his chair, breathing deeply, when Helena crept silently into the room and uttered those weird words. Before tape Jamie could even stammer out a protest, she ordered him to shut up and relax and enjoy himself, right off the bat. On her order, he opened his zipper, and real life Jamie mimicked his actions. Both their cocks were hardening even before Helena took off her sweater to reveal a flimsy white undershirt with long sleeves. Jamie kept mimicking his tape self, wanting to pretend Helena was right there with him. Despite the fact that she was using him in a magic ritual and wiping his mind, both of which probably had unknown, but serious, long term consequences for his health, Jamie still wanted to feel her smooth skin under his fingers. Helena was disappointingly uninterested in the sight of Jamie stroking himself and only knelt before him when he indicated that he was close. Helena looked at him expectantly, and when he nodded, she quickly pulled up the hem of her undershirt and Jamie's cum splattered all over her breasts in four mighty spurts. Seeing this on tape, Jamie came all over his desk. Helena smeared his cum all over her breasts with two fingers, and the cum seemed to be absorbed into them. She lowered her undershirt and put on her sweater before wiping her fingers with a wet wipe she produced from her jeans' pocket. Jamie caught his breath faster than his tape counterpart and let the recording play itself out before he rewound it to the few seconds her breasts were on display and froze it. They were a sight to see, perky, big and creamy with ruby areolas the size of silver dollars. He was disappointed not to see the nipples erect, but he hoped to rectify that in the future. As Jamie played the whole video for the second time, he realized he gave Helena the signals that he was about to cum, without her ordering him to do so. Only after checking the sound from the much closer mic did he pick out her quietly whispered orders to do so. It sounded almost as if she was embarrassed by the whole situation. Jamie didn't feel like dwelling on the idea of an embarrassed rapist witch, so he cleaned up everything and spent a few hours making up for the lost schoolwork of the week, even though his mind kept turning towards tomorrow afternoon when the foursome would cast spells on him. Jamie's Saturday was spent, as usual, at the electronics retail store where he worked the morning shift that, coupled with the employee discount, kept him in video games and equipment. If he didn't work there, he would find himself without cash for clothes, school trips, etc. during the school year. At three thirty, he was home, and wiping his sweaty palms on his pants repeatedly. There was no lack of a sense of panic in the young boy at what was about to happen, but he did his best to keep his cool. At four o'clock, he turned on the microphone on Helena's phone, having Sonya's number ready as backup, and began to listen in. The voices were clear and he soon recognized the alto of Sandra Grant, a flat- chested girl of average height from his class that had hazel curls she kept boyishly short, and the silky voice of Rose Romano, a petite girl with a perky behind and long, auburn hair. He had admired Sandra for her beautiful blue eyes and dimpled smile, and he was surprised that the kind-hearted girl would be a witch. He tried to listen close, but the girls spent an hour engaged in inane gossip. Just as he thought he would lose his mind listening to their drivel, they finally started to talk shop. Now he concentrated and began to piece together a narrative from the snippets of their meandering conversation filled with bragging over successful spells. "Well, girls," said Helena with a tone of formality, "Now that the last of our coven has finally turned eighteen, we can begin our work in earnest." The other girls congratulated Rose on her recent birthday and she thanked them before asking, "I still don't get why I have to be eighteen to cast any serious spells? All the books I've ever read that had useful spells in them said, basically, turn thirteen and rock on!" Jamie heard Sandra sigh heavily before saying, "The laws of magic state no spell with permanent effects or malicious intent can be cast on a minor, they don't state what age that is. In medieval Europe, you were thirteen, you were pulling your own weight. Here and now, it's eighteen." "Still doesn't make sense," said Rose quietly. "Never mind that," said Helena, in a diplomatic tone of voice, "we're eighteen, Jacobs is eighteen, everyone involved is of age by the laws of our land and we can proceed." Now Helena finally made a coherent lecture, and Jamie listened intently. She began with how the spell form was drawn on the floor and then stated that the spell was made up of four parts. The first part was the initiating chant, then came the desired change stated plainly by the witch, and then came five repetitions of a chant during which the price was stated. This brought the other three witches to an audible snap and they peppered Helena with questions. Helena responded to the questions in turn. As long as Jamie was nearby, the spell saw him as a willing participant in the exchange. As long as Jamie didn't speak the price aloud and in the proper form during the five repetitions of the chant, they got what they wanted without giving up anything in return. Jamie was a little angry at such an exchange. Then Sandra asked, "So it's an exchange, and we don't give anything, but we receive breasts, so what does Jacobs give, it's not like he's got boobs?" The girls giggled and then Helena answered, "He gives away his life force, it's the only thing that can empower such a thing as permanent bodily modification." Jamie was stunned. This was why he was so tired lately. "How much life force are we talking about," inquired Sandra. "Oh, a couple of months' worth," replied Helena, like it was no big thing, "He's young, so it won't show." Blood rushing to Jamie's temples almost drowned out the wiretap. "So, we're shortening his life," asked Sandra, almost casually. "Well, yeah," said Sonya, "but it's not like it matters, he dies a year or two earlier than he's supposed to, and we get proper boobs! Besides, who gives a shit about some loser like Jacobs?" Jamie was enraged beyond belief. If he had a gun, he would shoot them dead right now, from where he was sitting. The girls slowly, but casually, agreed that, them having what they ought to have, was worth such an inconsequential price. Jamie expected something like that from Helena and Sonya, the two were heartless, spoiled, rich cunts, but he hardly ever met Rose and he thought that Sandra was a much better person than that. His rage kept growing and growing. Then he was snapped from inert rage by Sonya declaring she's going first and Helena saying she needs to check to make sure Jamie isn't doing something that might accidentally wind up as a statement of a price. Jamie minimized his screen and loaded a replay of a game. Just as he did this, he heard the girls comment on how lame and pathetic he was, playing video games alone on a Saturday evening. Jamie's inner voice just kept repeating the formal statement of the price in an attempt to come up with an adequate one. Nothing he could think of in his enraged state of mind seemed enough, and his headphones relayed Sonya's voice chanting. Finally, Mitchell said, "I, Sonya Mitchell, daughter of the winds, sister to the tides, wish for a natural enlargement of my breasts to a size equivalent to a standard US D cup." As Sonya started to repeat the price naming chant, Jamie wished for more time to think of a fitting price and/or punishment for the witch. But he couldn't think of anything. His roving eyes stopped for a moment on his collection of ticket stubs, namely the one for Django Unchained he saw last weekend. Suddenly it all clicked. "I, Jamie Jacobs, do hereby name as your price, Sonya Mitchell, becoming my obedient slave for the rest of your natural life," he hissed furiously just before she ended the fifth repetition of the chant. Jamie heard the girls congratulating Sonya on successfully casting the spell and he repeated the price on the next two girls. Once they were his slaves, he could do whatever he wanted, and Jamie intended to get his life force back. With interests. After the girls finished all their chants, Jamie heard them cleaning Helena's room and beginning to discuss in what order they would take their shots from him. Then Helena detonated a proverbial thermonuclear warhead inside Jamie's skull. Jamie's heart stopped as his mind rebelled against what it had heard, wishing it unheard. "His semen carries his life force," said Helena, matter-of-factly, "and having it applied to the outside of your skin is really inefficient. If you want it fast, you need to take it into yourself. You know, the old fashioned way." Sonya exclaimed how horrible it would be to have him pawing at them, and, for a moment, Jamie's panic abated. He was a virgin and the thought of his first time being under mind control, and then wiped from his mind, unnerved him to no end. Even if it would net him three slave witches, he didn't want it to happen that way. "Well," said Helena, "you can have him cum on the floor and then step on it, but that way, it'll take you about a hundred sessions. Getting it on your boobs is the only practical substitute for sexual exchange." He nearly doubled over in physical pain when the low pitched voice of Rose Romano declared that she would do it the fast way, consequences be damned. Helena declared that taking his life force through sex would wind up achieving Rose's goal of C cups in two or three sessions, instead of her own three weeks' time. Sandra jumped on the bandwagon stating that it would be an act of charity to "give the boy a little something something in return". In the space of a minute, they had elevated Jamie from raw sewage material, to worthy of a pity fuck, and Jamie nearly wept with relief when Sonya said she would still prefer to just have him cum on her bosom. "You guys just remember," said Helena seriously, "it doesn't matter if you mix it up a little. You can take his cum the slow way, sprayed on, or the fast way, sex, and you can alternate your methods of retrieval freely so long as you do it within a lunar month." Jamie prayed for the spraying. "So, that's twenty eight more days," said Rose after a moment's pause, "We won't all make it going the slow way." Sonya reluctantly agreed and stated that it would be wise of all of them to mount Jamie the first time, and then continue on with the slow method. Jamie couldn't take any more listening to them talk about violating his body and mind in such a casual manner, so he minimized everything and left it recording while he went for a cup of water to alleviate the desert in his throat. After that, he spent some time in the bathroom, alternating between splashing cold water in his face, relieving himself and lying out lud to his reflection that everything will all be alright. Jamie was thankful his parents never bugged him about sleeping in 'til late on a Sunday and it was half past noon when his mother showed up in his bedroom and gotten him to come down for lunch. Sunday lunch was the start of a five hour block of family time in the Jacobs household, and there were no excuses for cutting out. Jamie sat and chatted with his parents and baby sister, who was barely civil to the rest of the family. Jamie couldn't believe he was so tired after sleeping for so long. He never got up later than ten a.m. on a Sunday, and here he was with three extra hours of sleep, nearly offending his mother's cooking with his lackluster intake of food. After lunch, but before the family movie time, he stretched and went to the bathroom. Coming to his room to change t-shirts, he glanced out his window at Helena's window and was curious to see movement in the slit of her curtains. He decided to take a peek and turned on his computer and then turned on the spy software on Helena's phone. It stated it was being recharged, but that didn't matter, as only a dead battery was a hindrance to him. Still, the phone was nowhere near any action, so he activated it's bluetooth and, sure enough, a mobile device with Sonya Mitchell's number popped up. He transmitted the spy software on that phone, bypassing it's flawed security and installed it. Now he heard Sonya's voice exclaiming, "Thirty-two cee? You rotten cuntwhore!" and then three voices exploding in giggles. In a minute he realized that Sonya and Rose had stayed the night at Helena's and were now on Sonya's phone talking to Sandra to hear how much her breasts have grown, but that didn't make any sense to Jamie, unless... With shaking fingers, he called up his power usage records, hoping against hope that they wouldn't show... Yep, his computer powered down from idle on it's own at eight thirty last night. With a cold, sinking feeling in his gut, he listened to the three remaining girls in Helena's room talking about their new boobs. His father angrily called up to his room for him to come down for family time. Jamie didn't bother acknowledging the call or reacting to being called a worthless, lazy lout for the umpteenth time. He brought up the recording of last night's wiretap and saw it was stopped at the last save he made, the rest lost in the automatic shutdown. He was taken. He was taken in the night, against his will, by a trio of witches, and it was rubbed out of his mind. Apparently, he came and gave them his life force and he didn't know which thing cheesed him off more, the fact that he was taken, or the fact that he had sex and couldn't remember it. The rest of Sunday passed unnoticed by Jamie. He lost himself in thoughts of vengeance. He formulated a plan. Then he formulated several backup plans, each more cruel than the last. He was going to enjoy himself in no time. There was only one issue nagging him. Would they become his slaves after their breasts fully grew, or are they becoming more obedient as they changed cup size? There was only one way to find out. Jamie wished he could find it within himself to be patient and find out in time, but he burned for revenge. On Monday, Sandra sat through biology class, her attention divided between the lecture and the sight of Jamie Jacobs three seats over. Despite herself, she found that she was thinking of him more and more often during the day. He was, after all, her very first man. She quickly lost track of the teacher as she reminisced on Saturday night. Helena had led Jamie into her room, his eyes vacant, and ordered him to strip. He was the first boy Sandra saw in the flesh and she drank in the sight. Helena ordered him to get hard and Sandra blushed seeing her first erection. She remembered how hot she got watching him stroke himself and then splatter his seed over Helena's bosom. Helena exclaimed that she felt she was finished. Rose took him by the hand and lay him down on the bed. She got naked and impaled herself on him, riding him for mere minutes, before she climaxed noisily. None of the girls giggled or laughed at the animalistic rutting that was happening before them. They were all mesmerized by the sight of Rose grinding herself against the boy's pelvis. Finally, Helena reminded her that it was Jamie who needed to cum for the spell to work, and Rose began to hop up and down his hard shaft, until he did just that. As Rose and Jamie were catching their breaths, Sandra was watching their genitals in fascination. The smells that were saturating the air were making her pussy leak. Sonya went next. She stripped naked and ordered Jamie hard and slowly lowered herself. She stopped after she took in an inch, and rose up sharply, proclaiming it impossible in a panic. Sandra just watched mutely. Helena and Rose started to gently stroke Sonya and calm her down with soothing words and encouragements. Sandra knew exactly how the girl felt, she was an 18 year old virgin as well, and as hot as witnessing the fucking made her, she was still quite scared of getting her v-card punched. She felt lucky Sonya had jumped up first and so she could witness a deflowering before she went through it herself. The girls calmed Sonya down and got her to confess she trusted them. They cooed relaxing words in her ear and she closed her eyes, twisting her pelvis in circles to rub her clit and pussy lips against Jamie's erection. Sandra observed that Sonya was leaving a slimy trail on the red head of the cock. Helena whispered something in Jamie's ears and he took Sonya's hips in his hands. Helena and Rose asked Sonya if she was ready. She nodded yes and the two girls kissed either side of her neck. Helena and Rose grabbed one shoulder each and bit down on Sonya's neck. Sonya opened her mouth to protest or scream, but then the girls pushed down on her shoulders, and Jamie pulled on her hips, and his cock vanished completely up Sonya's pussy. Sandra searched her face. Sonya looked to be deep in concentration for a few moments. Rose and Helena did their best to calm her down. Soon, Sonya was bouncing up and down Jamie's shaft with increasing delight. After they came, Sonya went to the bathroom and Jamie was given ten minutes to gather his strength. Now Sandra was no longer fascinated, but nervous. Rose and Helena started to undress her and Sandra couldn't resist their gentle hands. They proclaimed themselves her sisters, there to help her become a woman, and Sandra relaxed into their arms. Sandra was daydreaming in the biology classroom about the other night when she had sex with a spelled Jamie Jacobs. Her pussy was wet as she thought back to the phenomenal feeling of his cock parting her pussy lips and stretching her around himself. The physical sensations were, in her mind, a distant second to the emotional context of the night. She was held in the loving arms of her sisters, feeling a greater closeness with them than she ever thought possible, and she was being taken by a boy. Despite being on top, and him being in thrall, Sandra felt that his penetration of her was making him the dominant one, and she liked it that way. The bell rang and she snapped out of her reverie, realizing she missed half the lecture. Now was not the time to goof off in class, she was wait-listed at a few out of state universities and she needed to keep her grades up if she wanted to study away from home and establish her own coven. Just as she stood up, Jamie was next to her. She blushed from head to toe and she felt like someone was running an acetylene torch over her face and neck. "Tell me the truth," Jamie demanded. "You missed half this class, didn't you? You were thinking about something else." Sandra couldn't bring herself to lie and she admitted the truth with a mere, "Yes." "You want my notes." Jamie stated, more than asked, and Sandra admitted to herself that was true. She nodded and Jamie smiled. Something about that smile felt off to Sandra, but she ignored it as Jamie said, "Meet me after school, today at the south parking lot." Sandra nodded and Jamie moved off. She finally let out a deep breath she didn't know she was holding. Sandra spent the rest of the day deep in thought. She was obviously having feelings about Jamie Jacobs, and she hated herself for being so docile in his presence. Regardless of the spell, Jamie was her first man, and Sandra felt claimed by him, up to a point. She decided to meet him just as he instructed. Jamie had a wide smile when he saw her approach. Sandra again blushed as she walked up to him and opened her mouth. "Don't say a thing," said Jamie, and Sandra complied. "Come to my house with me, you can copy my notes there." Jamie turned and took off. Sandra skipped a bit to catch up to him and walked with him, not making a peep. When they got to his house, Sandra wondered what she was doing there. Why didn't he just let her borrow the notes for a day? Why didn't they go to the copy place? She opened her mouth and he put his finger on her lips, saying, "Shhhhh, don't talk. You want me." Sandra blushed anew. Hell, yeah, she wanted him! She wanted him to bend her over and plow her pussy until the cows came home, but, how did he know that? "I can see it plainly in your eyes," he said. "Relax," he instructed, and she did. She started

taking orders from Jamie. He ordered her to take off her top and she did. "Relax," he ordered, "You like that I'm taking the lead." Again, Sandra's apprehension dwindled. Jamie was taking the lead and she liked it. "You want to have sex with me," he said, "You want to enjoy yourself. You want to give me pleasure." "These things are true," thought Sandra, as she felt herself getting more aroused with each passing second. "Don't think of anything but having sex with me," said Jaime. With that order from Jamie, Sandra's thoughts left her, one by one, and she let them. She was now soaking wet and she took off her bra on her own. Jamie stopped giving her orders as he watched her rub her tits. He finally swallowed and told her, "Tell me the truth of what you think of me and having sex with me." "I want you," she simply said, and Jamie's jaw fell. "I want you to have sex with me as often as you like and I would prefer it to be very often, please." Sandra blushed. Where did this courage to talk to a boy, in that way, come from? She continued nonetheless. "You were my first ever lover and it was an amazing experience." "Did," Jamie swallowed, "Did you like it?" His brow twitched in suspicion. Thoughts kept cropping up in the back of Sandra's mind and trying to alarm her to something. Sandra felt too relaxed to be able to dwell on them. She was already naked before the boy, why should she not bare her mind to him as well? She smiled warmly and said, "Yes, I loved it. I used to fantasize about being a man's sex slave, any strong man's, but, this morning, I fantasized about being your slave." Jamie gaped at her in stunned disbelief. "What," he barked. "When I woke up," continued Sandra, "I lay on my bed and thought about being your slave, naked at your feet and obeying your every command. It made me squirm and pant in heat." If anyone had ever told him a female creature would ever say something like that to him, Jamie would have known with certainty that they were insane, but now... He could not have been more disoriented if the Sun suddenly started to rise in the North and set in the South. He blinked and cleared his throat and then swallowed a few times. "Did you," he paused, not really believing he was asking this, "touch yourself?" "No," she answered. "I never touch myself," she paused and emphasized, "you know, down there, when I fantasize about being a sex slave. I always grab my headboard, like my hands were tied to it, and then writhe and rub my thighs together. I love being turned on like that, and wanting to stroke my nubbin, but being unable to. I love thinking of myself as chattel. As a prized possession that's helpless to even give herself pleasure without her owner around. This morning, I dreamed I was your property." Jamie gaped long at the beautiful girl in disbelief at what she was saying. He had no idea how much of what she was saying was the spell's fault and how much was genuine. She did say she had always had such fantasies. Hearing a girl declare him to be the object of her dreams shook him to the very core. No girl had ever even blown him a kiss before. His plans for Sandra changed. He was going to keep her with him forever. He finally shook himself and ordered her to follow him to his parents' bedroom. Upstairs, safe from the view of Helena Worth's house, he ordered her to strip her panties, and she did. After he took off his own clothes, he ordered her to lie down on his parents' bed. Sandra was eagerly awaiting him on the bed. Jamie took a few moments to enjoy the sight and then pounced. Sandra passively accepted his mauling of her breasts and thought of how much more pleasing he will find her, after he fucks her, and they double in size. In a few moments, he started to fumble with his cock on the entrance of her pussy. She took hold of him with one hand and spread her outer lips with the other. Jamie sank into her with a long, drawn out sigh. The heat, the tight pressure from everywhere at once, the wet friction were maddening. He started to pump in and out of her, going deeper with each thrust. His hips seemed to be running on autopilot as his cock transmitted more and more pleasure to his brain. In a few minutes, he ejaculated in her and then passed out on top of her, overwhelmed by his first ever orgasm. Sandra reveled in the sensation of his hot semen being in her womb, for just a few moments before it was absorbed into her body. Her breasts grew, despite the weight on them, and Sandra knew her spell was completed. She also knew, without a doubt in her mind, that she would forever be obedient to Jamie Jacobs, her new owner. She dozed lightly with a wide grin. Jamie woke up feeling somewhat tired, but also happy. He had just popped his cherry in earnest. As he took a deep breath, he noted that Sandra's breasts were now about a D cup size. "You love and obey me," he ordered the girl, "Always tell me the truth. Is your spell finished?" "Yes, it is," said Sandra dreamily, "They've grown as big as I wanted them to. If you want them bigger, I can-" "No, no, that's enough," exclaimed Jamie. Sandra was looking a bit frightened. "They're perfect the way they are," he said and meant it. Now Sandra had a wide smile on her face. Jamie checked the bedside alarm clock. He had about an hour until his bratty kid sister came home from soccer practice and a half hour more until his parents got home. It was his turn to make dinner and he knew he had to buy the ingredients with the cash he made at the electronics store where he worked part time. He turned his attention back to Sandra, who was gazing up at him in adoration. "How much money do you have," he asked. By the time they got back from the supermarket, where Sandra bought the ingredients with her own cash, Jamie had gotten enough information from her to refine his plan. He ordered her to keep his plans a secret, particularly from the other witches, and to never reveal her status as his slave. Sandra made dinner for his family and left ten minutes before his sister got home, his orders first and foremost in her mind. Now he had a slave and a proper plan for the future. Life was good. On Tuesday, Rose sidled up to him after school and spoke a few words of power. She ordered him to be silent and follow her to her car. She drove them to the make out point and parked. She ordered him to relax, get hard and enjoy himself. Jamie barely suppressed his grin, and watched as Rose got out and beckoned him to follow. She sat on the hood of her car and spread her legs, showing him she was not wearing panties under her plaid skirt. She ordered him to fuck her and be quick about it. Jamie opened his fly, moved his briefs to the side and penetrated her. Rose started to squeeze him with her vaginal muscles and Jamie picked up the rhythm. He changed the angle of his penetration and started to feel even more friction across the head of his cock. He quickly came inside her. Rose pushed him off and got off the hood of her car. She pulled her top up and admired her boobs. Jamie took a flask from his pocket and drained it. It was a potion Sandra brewed for him last night, and gave to him in class today. He felt reinvigorated. Rose turned around to order Jamie to get in the car, but stopped and stared at his rock hard erection. She smiled and resumed her position on the hood of her car. "Fuck me again, stud," she purred lustily, "Make it fast, hard and cum inside me." Jamie proceeded to do just that. Sandra had told him that Rose was going to take him today and that she would probably be his in just two fuckings. The potion was there to make sure that happened today. Jamie was not as sensitive as earlier, so Rose started to look bored. After a while she started to gyrate on the hood to put pressure on her clit. In a few more minutes, she came, wailing like a banshee. The spasms of her pussy around his cock finally sent Jamie over the edge, and he emptied himself into her again. The heat from his loins temporarily blinded him with pleasure. He was fighting the creeping darkness that beckoned to him in the aftermath of the rutting. When Jamie caught his breath, Rose was looking at him in mute confusion. "You love and obey me," he wheezed. Rose's face cleared of all doubts and she started to look at him in pure adoration. Jamie ordered Rose to check if her spell was complete and she said it was. She even produced a bra of her desired size and modeled it for him shamelessly. He ordered her to drive him home and fell into the rear seat heavily. He was completely drained. When she drove him to the beginning of his street, he had summoned enough strength to walk, so he had her stop and park there. He gave her standing orders to keep him from being discovered and some special ones for her and Sandra, concerning Sonya. After that, he went home to sleep. On Wednesday morning, Jamie was one happy trooper. He went to school practically skipping all the way there. Helena and Sonya were particularly mean that day and even Jamie took a few barbs in his side. He just shrugged them off. He knew Sonya was coming for him the next day, but he also knew it would take him a few more sessions to get her to her desired size. During study period, his slaves Sandra and Rose gave him a note. Jamie read it carefully when he was alone and nearly whooped in joy. After school, he piled into Rose's car with Sandra and they took off to Rose's house. She had the house alone for the week, as her mom was out of town on business. After a brief necking session, Jamie ordered the girls to cast the spell they cast on Saturday. This time, the girls asked for a beauty mark on their cheeks, a boon they would be granted by merely looking at Jamie's seed. Jamie named as their prices half their sorcerous powers and twice the life force they took from him in both the spells. Jamie took his clothes off and sat down in a cozy armchair. He ordered Rose and Sandra to make out and touch one another while they stripped each other. The sight of two hot, 18 year old girls kissing and undressing each other made Jamie hard in seconds. He ordered them to undress each other more quickly and then ordered Rose to mount him. As Rose started to hump up and down his shaft, Jamie was mesmerized by the sight of Sandra licking one of her breasts and pinching the other one. Before long, he felt his balls tighten and then explode in Rose's tight pussy. He felt faint and weak for a moment, and then he felt stronger than ever before. His whole being was suffused with a power he had never felt before. He felt like his old self, but enhanced in ways he didn't even suspect possible. Jamie stood up, gently deposited the exhausted Rose on the coffee table, and turned to Sandra with a predatory gleam in his eye. Sandra was rubbing her thighs together. Jamie grabbed her by the throat and began to rub his hand all over her pussy. Her juices were leaking all over her thighs. He bent her over the back of the chair and started to plough into her from behind. He was rock hard and her soft flesh was parting before him. He leaned a bit to the side and enjoyed the sight of Sandra's massive tits swaying around and slapping the back of the chair with each thrust. Her hot pussy was so wet he felt next to no resistance, just pressure from all sides. He felt like he had died and gone to heaven. He came with several strong spurts. Again, he felt a bit weak, but soon he felt stronger and healthier than ever. Jamie had Rose cart them off to their respective homes and gave the orders for tomorrow. He admired Sandra's new beauty mark. It was a minor change, but it made her face truly spectacularly beautiful, and he liked her taste. Jamie ignored the fights that greeted him at home and went to sleep. He dreamed of angels. Sonya was pissed off. Rose and Sandra cast the spell again and drained the boy of more life force. The very same life force she was going to harvest to make her breasts grow. They had a bitter shouting match and Helena, who had been too busy flirting with boys to notice the recent developments, stayed out of it. When Sonya started to make some vague, but menacing threats, Helena quickly jumped in to try and defuse the situation. Rose was as strong as Helena and Sonya put together, magically speaking, and Sandra was even stronger than that. As Helena reminded Sonya that she would stay out of any throw down, the fight left Sonya in a hurry. The girls shared a tense few moments before apologies started to fly to and fro. It was finally decided that Helena would go on a date with the football quarterback, while Rose and Sandra assisted Sonya with harvesting Jamie's life force. Rose discreetly sent Jamie a text informing him of their success. When Sonya showed up at Rose's house, Jamie was already there, and looking like he was in trance. The girls reiterated their contrite apologies and agreed that Sonya would have sex with Jamie all night here, in Rose's mom's bed, and that Rose and Sandra would be on hand to assist. They told Sonya that they spelled Jamie's family to not notice he was absent until tomorrow night, and that they gave him a potion that would make him recover his erection in no time. Both of those things were true, but they were done on Jamie's orders. Rose offered Sonya a potion that would prevent her from getting sore from all the fucking and enable her to feel a whole lot of pleasure. Sonya blushed a deep crimson and mutely accepted the glass. She drained it in one gulp. Sonya barely had time to ask Rose which bed they could use before her legs gave out. Jamie caught her and lay her down on the couch. Sonya felt uneasy that Jamie could be so alert and spry all of a sudden, but she started to have difficulty forming thoughts. She felt like she was flying while encased in concrete at the same time. Jamie chuckled. Before Sonya could even register it, he and the two other girls began chanting a spell. When they finished, she became alert and scared. They had cast a spell on her, and they used a potion to amplify it. Sonya was not a powerful witch, or a knowledgeable one, but she knew that meant big trouble for her. "What did you do," she asked of Rose and Sandra. "They only did as I ordered them to," said Jamie. Sonya's eyes darted between their faces and she could not believe what she was seeing. Rose and Sandra suddenly displayed devotion to Jamie. It was as plain to see as the light of day. Sonya's mind could only rebel against it in horror. "Don't worry," Jamie said, "you will very soon join my newly formed harem." Sonya's eyes and mouth were open wide in horror. "You see, I named a price on Saturday. Your big boobies come at the price of your freedom. And, as you can tell, I'm gonna soon order you to cast a second spell and name an even bigger price." Sonya's limbs would not work. The spell left her with next to no control over her muscles, absolutely no control of her power and she realized with dread that she was Jamie's to do with, as he saw fit. She cried and begged. Jamie listened with an ugly smile on his face and merely nodded along. She started to scream at them all in rage, threatening bloody reprisals. When Sonya started repeating the same pleas for mercy over and over again, Jamie merely reminded her of some of the things she said to him, or about him, over the years and that left her in stunned silence. Jamie, Rose and Sandra did another quick chant and laid their hands on Sonya's face. Now, Sonya was completely paralyzed. All she could do was dart her eyes around and blink. Rose and Sandra took her clothes off gently, and then helped Jamie carry her to bed. Jamie laid her down gently and Sandra undressed him. Rose applied a salve to Sonya's pussy. Jamie looked down at Sonya in triumph. Sonya's eyes pleaded with him mutely before she noticed that Rose and Sandra were undressing each other and kissing. She stared in disgust at the two girls as they started to massage each other's breasts. Jamie was getting hard looking at them. Sonya was alarmed when her fellow witches lay down in a sixty-nine position right next to her, just out of her line of sight and she could no longer see them clearly, but she could hear them. The two were slurping at each other's snatch with wild abandon. Jamie watched the other two girls as he mounted Sonya and guided himself into her wet cunt. It was the pinnacle of humiliation. Sonya cried mutely, tears streaking through her mascara as he penetrated her. She was now lubricated against her will and penetrated by a worthless loser that was ogling other girls WHILE he was fucking her inert body. Sonya pretended she wasn't there, she pretended this wasn't happening, she tried to think of anything that would take her mind off the smells in the room, off the sounds of sex and the jostling of her body. After a few minutes, Jamie made a face Sonya thought was funny and grunted. With distress, Sonya noted he had cum in her, and his cum was absorbed. She strained her eyes all the way down and could make out her breasts growing. She was now somewhere between a B and a C cup. Jamie caught his breath and resumed watching the action next to them. Sonya could feel his cock softening and hope sprang inside her. Maybe the incapacitation spell would expire before he transformed her into his slave, maybe she could get loose somehow. He couldn't last much longer, could he? She noted with dread that a growing part of her wished he could. As if in answer to her thoughts, Jamie got hard again and started to plow into her with renewed vigor. The sounds of Rose and Sandra orgasming messily right next to her were impossible to ignore. The fact that she couldn't see them, only made them figure highly in her mind. After he came the second time, Sonya noted, with distress, that she had been quite close to orgasm herself. She checked her boobs and saw they were now C cups. If Jamie could cum into her two more times, she would be finished. Jamie's soft cock slipped out of her, and Sonya cried tears of relief. Jamie ordered Rose and Sandra to stop. He took out a small flask from his pants and uncorked it. He drained the thing and looked at Sonya's face. "Girls," he said to Rose and Sandra, "hold her head up, I want her to see this." Rose and Sandra repositioned themselves on either side of Sonya and gently lifted her head off the pillow. Sonya now noted, in panic and simultaneous yearning, that Jamie was once again rock hard. He knelt between her spread legs, put his erection next to her entrance and lifted her knees. He pushed in and Sonya would have screamed at the displacement of her pussy walls. Was she more sensitive, or was he even bigger than before? "All right, girls, time for some fun," exclaimed the sweaty boy, "Rose, Sandra, you two pleasure Sonya, I want her to come a few times now, just to humiliate her before she becomes my slave." Sonya was now torn between pure dread and pure ecstasy. Rose started to gently kiss her face and stroke her breasts. Sandra was kissing her nipples and stroking her tummy. Sonya was losing herself in a sea of pleasure and inevitable subjugation. She was becoming less and less sure her enslavement was a bad thing. Before long, she came and Jamie followed her closely. When Rose lifted her head to kiss Jamie, Sonya noted how huge her tits looked in Sandra's small hands. "Just one more and you're done," exclaimed Sandra with a broad, happy smile on her face. Jamie looked Sonya in the eye, "Cum with me now and become my obedient slave!" Sonya couldn't disobey his order and when he came again in a few minutes, she had an orgasm which erased all her worries. Jamie nearly passed out with the exertions of the night. He wrapped his arms around his newest slave and rolled them to the side before falling asleep. In the morning, Jamie felt as invigorated and powerful as ever. Apparently, he now had life force to spare. After a bountiful breakfast he shared with his slave witches, he ordered Sonya to cast again the bodily modification spell that was her downfall. He ordered her to ask for a perfect waist to hip ratio. He named as her price all of her sorcerous power, twice the life force both spells required and her ability to concentrate on things other than sex or fulfilling his orders. After the spell was finished, Sonya looked panicked and the other two girls asked him if that was not a bit excessive. "Excessive," he asked incredulously. "Excessive?! After what the four of you did to me?! Excessive?!" He pinched the bridge of his nose to try to calm down. The girls looked ready to bolt. "I am ordering all three of you to consider this punishment just and merciful. Sonya, you are going to be a cunt to be fucked and that is all your life will ever be, understand?!" Sonya nodded, sniffling away tears. Jamie sat down in front of her and, speaking in a soft voice, gave her a series of orders to ensure she would not reveal anything about him, or the other girls, to anyone. He also ordered her to truly love him. "Now," he said, reconcilliatorily, "Let's all gather 'round and think and discuss. Sonya, it'll be weeks before you're a drooling, oversexed retard and I need all three of you to put your brains and books together and find me a way to enslave Helena Worth. Ok?" "We should try to get her to cast the modification spell again," offered Rose. "Yes, but how," inquired Sandra. "You heard her. She's abso-friggin-lutely perfect. What could we possibly encourage her to change on herself?" All three girls bowed their heads in thought and concentration as Jamie looked at them expectantly. After a few minutes of silence, he slapped the table in frustration. "This is not going to work," he declared. "I think we should do her like we did Sonya here," he rubbed her thigh and she responded with a warm smile, "an incapacitation potion, and then the chant, and then rape or... something to enslave her. Hm?" The girls nodded their assent, but they didn't know of any spell that would accomplish the permanent enslavement bit. Jaime listened to their thoughts and complaints, but his patience soon expired. "Alright, girls," he declared finally, "there are many things still unknown, but that doesn't matter. I'm ordering you to do the research and come up with suggestions by next weekend. We have all day today until we are missed and we are going to fuck our brains out." He laid a gentle hand on Sonya's shoulder. "Don't worry, sweet thing, I'm not going to cum in or on you until after we've enslaved Helena. Then, you'll be fucked!" He guffawed at his double entendre and the girls parroted his laugh.

**Editors** **LadyPhoenix and Wildsweetone** ** _The author wishes to make it clear that all errors, grammatical and historical are solely his responsibility. The professionalism, and good grammar used in this story are thanks to the sterling work of the editors._** Doctor Simon Forman and many of the other characters existed as did many of the events that I have recounted, it is up to you the reader, to work out where fact ends and the fiction begins. ** _PART I_** Although the sun had risen, laying a shimmering path along the broad river, the morning air retained its night chill, and over the river Thames gossamer tendrils of dawn mist still clung to the water. In the town of Deptford, just down the Thames from London, the streets were already packed with throngs of people. Christopher Marlowe, who was more often called Kit, sat at his desk, trying to think. There was a vicious pounding in his head from the copious amounts of wine he had imbibed over the previous day and night. He had been drinking to forget the troubles that seemed to plague him. Despite the previous night's alcohol, a presentiment had awoken him unusually early. As his eyes opened the dream had ceased, but he was able to recall every detail with startling clarity. Despite his success as a playwright, other aspects of his life were troublesome. He was certain that his former employer, the Master Intelligencer, who operated Queen Elizabeth's security services, Francis Walsingham was the source of these troubles. Looking back he wished that he had not accepted the purse of gold, and that he had remained an impoverished scholar and playwright. Just as his hero, the eponymous Doctor Faustus had concluded a compact for his soul with the devil, he had sold himself and his conscience to Walsingham. Marlowe shivered. He knew he had been unwise in threatening to unmask his patron. Walsingham and the Cecil family had their hands firmly planted on the levers of power, and the means both lawful and unlawful to ensure they retained their position. He had little doubt that at this very moment, Walsingham would be devising a plan to silence him before he answered the Council's summons. Marlowe took a sheet of paper and wrote a letter. After drying the ink with sand, he folded it, then sealed it with wax. On top of the letter he placed an old box. "Pyke!" He shouted. "Pyke! Come here!" "Thou called upon me, Master Kit?" Despite his young age Pyke addressed the playwright with only a trace of deference. Two years of playing female leads and knowing his worth, had given to the boy a degree of self-assurance beyond his years. "Pyke, I want thee to take this letter and box to my friend Doctor Simon Forman. Thou wilt find him at his lodgings, the Stone House by Saint Botolphs. Dost thou remember being there when thy leg wast sore?" "Yes master Kit. He was a kindly doctor and he never bled me." He handed the boy some silver coins. "Now take these three bords and get a waterman to take thee up the river to the bridge. Make all haste, Pyke. Let caution be thy guide. And let no man detect thy true purpose, nor that 'tis I thou represent." A child actor, Pyke was already wise in the ways of the world. He had been raised near the playhouse, where prostitutes, pimps and cutpurses lived cheek by jowl with the players and their law-abiding patrons. Before leaving the house he tightened his belt and secreted the box and letter inside the folds of his jerkin. He decided to act the part of an urchin on an irksome errand, so scuffling his feet he shuffled into the street. Obeying Marlowe's instructions the boy took a circuitous route heading east then west, and east again, steadily north toward the river. It was about the same time as Pyke made his way along Thames Street, that Kit Marlowe entered the drinking house of Widow Eleanor Bull. Marlowe spent the remainder of the day there, drinking with three companions. Despite being unlicensed Doctor Simon Forman's practice was a busy one. During the plague outbreak of the previous year Simon had been one of the few doctors who had not fled to the safety of the countryside. Indeed as a result of treating plague patients he had contracted the disease, by his own treatments he had survived. As a result many people trusted him more than the licensed doctors and he was prospering. That day he had seen a number of patients in his rooms, before making a call upon a widow woman. She wanted him to draw up an astrological chart for her and a potential suitor. Ever the gallant, he had stayed for some time paying the woman compliments in the hopes that she might favor him. Unsuccessful, from the woman's home he made his way to a somewhat meaner dwelling, where another woman had relieved his lust. Exhausted from his exertions the doctor had repaired to the nearby Blue Boar Tavern. It was in this ordinary that Pyke found the doctor. He had been told by the doctor's servant, Stephen, that this was the place where Simon often spent his time. Entering the dimly lit bar, Pyke's eyes were immediately drawn to the affluent looking man who wore a velvet gown trimmed with fur. "Doctor Forman, I come on an errand of both urgency and secrecy." Pyke whispered so that those nearby would be unable to overhear. "Speak up boy. Do ye have to mumble like some blushing maiden?" "Sire, thou will not recognize me by my appearance. My motley is that of a queen, a lady or a maid. My name is Pyke, a humble player in Master Henslow's company. Thou mayest remember last Michalmas, I had a sorly abscess on my leg, thou cured me. Our good friend, the playwright Kit Marlowe esquire, has given to me instructions that this is a matter that requires some delicacy." "Damned players and writers of plays, ye all think the world is naught but some foolish revel," Simon muttered as he raised his pewter tankard to his lips. "What has the impetuous fool done? Got some pretty maid in trouble? No not Kit. Tis not his inclination. Is it thee boy? Tell me the symptoms. Is it a fever? Pain? Dost thou have some rash or pox marks?" "No, Sire, this has naught to do with me. I am but the messenger." Pyke tugged at Simon's sleeve, "I pray thee, good doctor, accompany me to a place more private where we will not be over-looked." Still grumbling, Simon drained his tankard before rising from his seat. When they were in the street the boy pressed the box and letter into Simon's hand. "Master Marlowe wishes thou only to examine the contents when no one is privy to thy actions." "Has Kit taken to being one of Walsingham's damnable intelligencers yet again?" Just as Pyke spoke, an altercation erupted inside Eleanor Bull's alehouse between Ingram Frizer and Kit Marlowe. The witnesses, Marlowe and Frizer's drinking companions, who were also employed as intelligencers by Walsingham, later testified that the argument had been over the bill. Tempers fired by drink flared and both men drew their knives. Moments later, Marlowe lay on the floor, his life flowing away. Simon Forman put the box and letter into his purse before he returned to the Blue Boar. Later, when he was leaving, one of Henslow's jobbing actors entered the establishment, clearly in shock. His face chalk white and his eyes red, he lurched to the bar, demanding draught of strong ale from the serving wench. When he had the tankard in his hand, he held it up. His loud stage voice commanded respect and caused the chatter to die down. "Gentleman! Wilt thee one and all join with me in drinking to the spirit of our greatest playwright whose mortal coil was cut short this day? Let us drink to the memory of Kit Marlowe, may his atheistic soul rest in peace." On hearing those words, Simon felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Unconsciously he touched his purse, where he carried the box and letter. He drained his tankard, called for the reckoning and when he had paid it, hurried from the tavern. News was confirmed later, when the boy Pyke hammered on his door. "Doctor! Doctor Forman! It is me Pyke the boy player, open the door, I have news of great import!" 'Damned players. Do they always have to bawl so loudly?' Simon thought as he drew back the bolts and turned the key of the door. No sooner had Pyke entered the room than he related the news of Marlow's death. Simon gave the boy a groat to pay the waterman before ushering him out. He locked and bolted the door. The rude tallow dip that lit the room did not give enough illumination for him to read. Finding one of his precious wax candles, Simon lit it, placing it on his table. From his purse he took the box and letter, he set the box to one side. Carefully breaking the seal, he unfolded the paper, smoothing it on the table. _Greetings my dear friend Simon,_ Prey bear with my presumptuousness, in sending thee this without prior warning. My messenger will have passed to thee this letter and a small box. I send this because I have awoken from a sorely disturbing dream that appears to be an omen that some violent harm may be visited upon my person. Please keep the contents of the box in a place of security. So long as I am alive I ask that thou keepest my confidence and tell no person, however high their estate, that thou hast possession of this box nor do thou gaze upon its contents. If some misfortune comes to pass and I meet an untimely end, the contents of the box I bequeath to thou… 'Poor Kit! He has certainly met an untimely end,' mused Simon. _… If naught of ill consequence befalls me, I shall be asking thou to return to me the box once my business with the council has reached a satisfactory conclusion._ If however my fate be governed by an ill star and adversity should befall me the contents of the box I bequeath to thou, with no instructions as to the purpose or use thereof. A man with thy fabled knowledge of the secret arts should be able to discern the means to employ this Talisman to thy most profitable advantage. As thou wilt see, this Occidental medallion, so richly carved of ivory is not without monetary value. However dear friend, that apparent value is of no account when it is compared with the value of the power that appears is secretly embodied within its very fabric. I will cease now, thy good friend, KIT Simon reread the letter. Marlowe was dead; of that he had no doubt. The box and its mysterious contents had been bequeathed to him. He lifted the lid, even in the flickering candle light the carved ivory disc seemed to glow. To examine it more thoroughly he took the medallion from its nest laying it in the palm of his hand. He could see that Marlowe had not been mistaken, the design was undoubtedly not a symbol from Christendom. 'Occidental', Marlowe had said. For no clear reason Simon suddenly knew it originated from the Spice Islands. 'And this gold chain must be worth a pretty penny – I have never seen the likes of it.' Then he became aware of the heat. Like a crystal the ivory disc was alive, gently vibrating with energy and generating warmth. Simon sensed the ivory Talisman was trying to communicate with him. The figure carved on it intrigued him; at first glance it appeared to be of a woman, an occidental Venus or some unknown fertility goddess he had surmised. Then when he viewed the figure from a slightly different angle its gender appeared to change, and the figure had distinct masculine characteristics. He was confused. What was the meaning of these phenomena? What did this object mean to him? Would it bring him good fortune or ill? Deciding to take the prudent course of action he returned the Talisman to its box and closed the lid. From the shelf that housed his precious books, he took down his Ephemeris and Almanac. Taking a sheet of paper he swiftly jotted down the information he already knew: the angles and altitudes of the planets and major constellations at the time of his nativity. Then he opened the Ephemeris and Almanac and computed a nativity chart for Kit Marlowe. From these two charts he was able to draw up a third symbolizing the relationship between himself, the dead playwright and the Talisman. Dawn was breaking when Simon wearily rubbed his tired eyes, rising to put his books away. Covering the table were the three charts Simon had drawn up. At last he was satisfied that the Talisman Marlowe had given him was not inherently malevolent. Confident that the Talisman would cause him no harm, Simon went to his bed, closing his eyes and falling into a deep sleep almost immediately. It was not unusual for Simon to rise at noon as his study and practice of the occult often filled the hours of darkness. Having risen he followed his usual routine, visiting a number of his patients. As he made his way along the teeming streets and crooked alleys, he encountered many friends and acquaintances going about their business, and at every opportunity he sought more information about Marlowe. Of course, it was not necessary to ask many questions, as news of Marlowe's death was on everyone's lips. All Simon had to do was listen. Some said Marlowe had been involved in a drunken brawl. Others, those who lowered their voices and looked around furtively before speaking, said Walsingham and the Cecil family had some hand in Marlowe's death. Simon listened to both opinions without comment. Speculating about the Queen's Master Intelligencer and advisors could lead to the Tower or a worse fate. That night as darkness fell, Simon checked and rechecked that the lock and bolts on the door were secure, and that the shutters on the windows were shut fast. Dragging a trunk from under the bed, he took several items from it. Holding a sword in his left hand, Simon incised a circle on the floor. On the northern point of the circle he placed a small pot containing earth, at the west a pot of water, to the east an empty pot and at the southern extremity a lamp. Next he picked up a small mirror, holding it over the lamp just above the flame then lifting it away to examine it, and returning it to the spot over the lamp. He repeated this process a number of times until the lamp-black evenly coated the glass. When he was satisfied, he placed the mirror near the empty pot, so it faced towards the middle of the circle. Finally in the center of the circle, he erected a small wooden tripod. Placing a stool in the western sector of the circle, he sat down facing the black mirror. In his open left hand he held the ivory Talisman. Taking several slow, deep breaths, he cleared his mind. He rose to his feet, and walked around the perimeter of the circle in a counter-clockwise direction whilst chanting an invocation. The words could at best be described as Dog Latin mutated with Hebrew, anyone who was not an initiate would understand very little of what he said, and nothing of the meaning. Having completed three circuits of the circle, Simon again seated himself on the stool. Ignoring the object of his enquiry, the Talisman, he gazed with a fixed stare at the mirror. At first he saw the mirror in the context of the room, with the tripod between himself and the mirror, with the empty pot behind it, in the shadows he could see the wall. Sitting motionless, his gaze did not waver. Soon time became suspended and he no longer heard the call of the passing watchman. The mirror loomed larger in his vision as it seemed to grow in size. Eventually there was nothing but the mirror, a matte black mass of nothing. His mind was a blank except for the blackness and the warmth of the Talisman in his hand. He was no longer in the room. Both time and space had lost their meaning. Before his eyes he saw a figure, the same figure that was carved on the Talisman dancing a jig before his eyes. From somewhere far away he could hear the pipes playing a discordant form of music that was foreign to his ears. When the first thin gray streaks of dawn intruded through gaps in the shutters, Simon rose. Walking three times clockwise round the circle, in the doggerel language he mumbled a closing prayer. Taking up his sword, he cut symbolically through the circle at the east point. Then he went to the table and wrote a wealth of notes about what he had experienced before packing his things away and retiring to his bed. Night after night Simon cast his circle, but until the tenth night he learnt no more about the Talisman than he knew from Marlowe's letter and the first night. The alien music and the dance confirmed his view that the object's origins lay in the fabled Spice Islands of the Indies, but beyond that fact he had learned nothing. On the tenth night he saw the figure from the Talisman come to life before his eyes. It had transformed into a dancing girl who became a butterfly that grew and grew until it filled the room, consuming Simon. The dancing girl was Simon, and Simon was the dancing girl. Simon was the girl who danced for the priests, whoring herself chastely for the temple, in innocence enjoying sex that was free of guilt, for the innocent cannot be guilty. Giving enjoyment in return for enjoyment. Simon was aware of a feeling of warmth in his abdomen when she enjoyed an orgasm. When the delicate pink flower between the dancing girl's legs opened, it revealed to him a glowing bud. In a flash Simon achieved a level of understanding that surpassed the goals his imagination had set him. When with the arrival of dawn he had ritually broken the circle, Simon then wrote his cryptic notes in his usual semi- educated mishmash of Dog Latin and French. _Noxt est dies et dies est noxt. Lume est niger et niger est lume. Et vice verca ad infinitum. Homme est femme. Femme est homme. Femme cum as homme but with difference. Noxt I was a femme and homme. Did pleasure my femme. Femme pedagoge a homme._ Translated he had written, _"Night is day and day is night. Light is black and black is light. And the opposite into infinity. Man is woman. Woman is man. Woman orgasms as a man does but there is a difference. This night I was both a woman and a man. I did pleasure the female. Female instructed the male."_ Simon reread his notes. To anyone else they read like a bad riddle, but for him they would serve as an aide-memoir, without betraying the great secret of duality to anyone else. He doubted if there was another man in London who possessed the knowledge he had of female sexuality. For in becoming female he had discovered the secret source of female sexual enjoyment. Now all he needed and wanted, was an opportunity to put that knowledge to use. Never before had the forty year old doctor even considered it to be possible that a woman might take some enjoyment from sex. This was not because he was inexperienced in sexual matters, even though he had been a virgin until his thirtieth year. Since then, after having made love to Anne Young, he had taken his own enjoyment with many women, however he had never considered whether they got any enjoyment from the act. Now he knew they had such dazzling potential, he was anxious to put the theory into practice. Circumstances favored Simon that very day. Just before noon a servant girl knocked at his door. Simon was in his bed when he called out, "Who is it?" His voice sharp, he was irritable from lack of sleep. "Doctor Forman sir I bring a note from my mistress. Mistress Alice Blague," the girl answered through the still locked door. She stood shivering on the doorstep while the mysterious doctor, (who some said dabbled in witchcraft), pulled back the bolts. At last the door swung open, an unforgettable man greeted her once handsome, his looks had faded with age. His face heavily freckled and from beneath his heavy brows twinkled bright eyes. His hair, despite his forty years, was still red. "Well my pretty one, is thy mistress as sweet a portrait as thy art." As he spoke, Simon was eyeing the girl speculatively, sure that he would succeed in tumbling the doxy if he wished. She had the fresh innocent looks of the country about her and a generous mouth, and in Simon's experience these qualities in a woman equated with a willingness to indulge in dalliances. "Oh sire, thou dost make a jest with me. My mistress, the wife of the Dean of Rochester, the reverend doctor Blague is a far grander and prettier woman than I could ever be." Handing Simon the note, the girl scurried off. Simon, thinking a visit to Mistress Blague would give him an opportunity to further his acquaintance with the maid, answered her summons. He believed he had been rewarded when the same maid answered the Blague's door to him. Without giving him chance to dally or make light conversation, the girl ushered him into the chamber where Alice Blague was waiting. "Doctor Forman please, take a seat here, alongside me." Simon struggled to make a reply. Looking about the chamber of a senior cleric's wife, he was stunned. The first thing to catch his eye was not the lady's red hair, nor her long face, nor even her large mouth. It was the lady's bosom that commanded his attention. He saw a woman – a lady - attired in the manner of a tavern serving wench who had not even pinned a kerchief across the low cut of her gown, consequently leaving her more than ample breasts on display to all who entered the room. At length he mumbled, "Your servant Mistress Blague." Fidgeting nervously he took the seat Alice had indicated. "Oh, I pray thee good doctor, do not stand on ceremony with me. The good Dean is at present away upon some business and I have a small problem, for which thy knowledge can surely find a cure." The woman made Simon nervous. If he had not judged the maid to be an honest girl, he would have thought this woman to be a prostitute, and not the wife of a cleric. He feared that this summons might be yet another clever trick designed and laid by either the College of Physicians or the Barber-Surgeons. "Mistress Blague I would recommend to thee that thee seekest the advice of thy husband's physician." "The doctor my husband consults is naught but a fool and a knave. The only physic he will prescribe is the leech." The mention to Simon of letting of blood as a means of treatment was like showing a red rag to a bull. When he replied Simon was clearly agitated, his hands whirling like windmill sails, as he gestured to emphasize the points he was making. "Mistress Blague it is my experience that leeching, or cutting, or any other of the divers means of letting blood are not conducive to the patient. If I am able to use my skills to keep thy precious blood safely inside thy comely body I shalt do so." Having delivered his diatribe he was clearly more composed. "Now Mistress Blague, tell me what ails thee?" "Doctor Forman 'tis my leg that sorely tries me." "Mistress, I need thee to be more precise as to the nature of thy symptoms. Hast thy troublesome leg a cut or an abscess that is the source of thy ill?" As she spoke, Alice Blague got up from her seat, lifting her dress and underskirts. "'Tis here that the trouble occurs," she said, indicating the inner part of her thigh. Simon saw that Alice was a traditionalist, who did not wear the new drawers that some thought in fashion. Simon slid to his knees from the chair to better look at the lady's leg. Alice Blague slowly ran her fingers up and down the inside of her thigh, on each ascending movement her fingers venturing a little higher, until they brushed against her fleshy labia, delicately hanging down like curtains. Kneeling with his nose inches from her sex, Simon was aware that his breathing had become heavier. "Pray, be seated mistress Blague, so I may examine your thigh more closely." She sat with her legs wide open. Looking not at the thigh that was the ostensible object of his examination, Simon's focus was instead on the view between her thighs. Whether by accident or design, her labia were parted, lying open like a pink butterfly resting. He recognized the shape, for it was the one he had seen in his vision the previous night and there in the middle lay the carmine jewel. Without a second thought he touched her clitoris with his forefinger. Alice gasped when at the same time as gently applying pressure he began to move his finger in a circular motion. She was not surprised that the doctor had touched her in such a manner. Indeed she had hoped the doctor would accept her invitation. She was bored and her elderly husband was out of town. Although she was the wife of a clergyman, Alice was not an innocent in matters to do with sex. Married at fifteen years of age to a man of twice her years, she had subsequently taken a series of lovers, two of whom were also clerics. What surprised Alice, was that the doctor had stimulated her clitoris. Early in her marriage she had discovered that the fleshy nubbin was a source of pleasure, but to her knowledge, no man had ever before intentionally set out to bring her to a climax. Simon positively glowed with pride when Alice, her voice husky, cried out. "Pray, sire, do not desist! Please, I plead with thee to go on with this delightful motion of your hand." Her hand covered his hand, and he felt a stab of pain when her nails dug into the back of his hand. "Dear Doctor, please … please, dear doctor I prey do not cease stirring my nubbin." "Mistress Alice, why dost thou call this thy nubbin?" "Why, sire, 'tis what every woman I know does call this part of herself." "And what do the men you know call this?" "'Tis not a subject of conversation in the ordinary way of things, Sir!" Simon was so intent upon the discoveries that he was making that he did not notice the sharp edge to her voice. Not heeding the warning he asked, "Dost thy other lovers not speak of these things?" "Sire, thou dost presume too much! Dost thou take me for some doxy who would lie with men other than my husband?" she asked indignantly, apparently oblivious to the contradiction of the act she was indulging in with him. Replying as manners dictated, Simon murmured, "Mistress Alice, please accept my abject apologies, I assure you my words were not intended as a slur upon thy good character." As he spoke Simon, without thinking withdrew his fingers from her clitoris. "Pray, sire, do not desist thy sweet labors." She said pulling his hand back towards her quim. "In truth doctor to the best of my knowledge, limited as it should be, other men appear to remain ignorant of the nubbin and its secrets." Simon was aware of his stiff pizzle pushing against the fabric of his breeches. In the past he had done no more than cursorily caress a woman's sex before entering her, and then only for the purpose of ensuring his ride would be smooth and wet. Now he could see Alice ecstatically wriggling her hips; could feel the heat her damp sex emitted, and smell her faintly animal odors. He could also sense the joy he brought to her. Within his head some new process was occurring, it was almost as if she was stimulating him as well. "Mistress Alice thou mayest call me by my given name, Simon." Unsure of his path in this new discovery he kept stimulating her with his fingers. Moving nearer to her he began to kiss her exposed breasts. Arching her back she pushed herself toward him. He trailed his tongue over the ivory globes plunging his tongue into her cleavage. He blew a soft cool draft over the dampness before enveloping one of her nipples in his mouth. Alice shivered with excitement. A tingle journeyed down from her breast, shimmered through her stomach, and on down toward her excited quim. "My lady what perfect dugs thou hast." He mumbled with his mouth still full of her breast. She was gasping, mewing like a kitten, her fluids dripping like nectar from her onto his probing fingers. His fingers slicked over her labia, whilst with the ball of his thumb he manipulated her now swollen clitoris. Then her fingers were scrabbling at his waist, nearly tearing his breeches in her frantic haste to loosen the draw-cord. "I must have thee … I must have thee! I need thee now. Gentle Simon, pray unencumber thy self." With his free hand Simon undid the draw-cord and expertly pulled his britches to his knees. Taking his finger from her clitoris he grasped her hips, easing her forward on the seat so she was supported at the edge. He lifted her legs, resting them on his shoulders, then guided the head of his pizzle so it was at the entrance of her vagina. She gasped when he thrust his hips, his pizzle slid easily up her lubricated tunnel of love. With long strokes he rhythmically thrust into her, on each in stroke his balls slapping her ample ass. Usually he would have established a rhythm that would bring the act to a speedy conclusion satisfactory to him, yet now he was aware of her and gauged a pace that would bring the greater pleasure to her. He did not understand why he was doing this, he was merely aware that he felt compelled to do so. Then he had the most unusual of experiences. With his balls were tightening and pizzle throbbing in a prelude to ejaculation, suddenly he had a vision. The dancing figure from the Talisman he was wearing around his neck, appeared to be dancing before his eyes. As the figure twirled it alternately manifested itself as male and female, until to Simon its sex became an irrelevance. As the figure danced it waved a reproving finger at him and shook its head. In an instant Simon understood. He was to prevent himself from cumming. And so he conjured up an astrological riddle, which he set about solving without breaking the rhythm of his thrusting. Simon's lovemaking was a new experience for him. During the eighteen years of her marriage, Alice had never been treated in this way, by either her husband or her numerous lovers. She knew when he had finished she would not have to bring herself to completion with her own hand. No sooner was she reaching a peak than she was on the way to another one. Indeed a small voice of fear nagged at her. Would she be taken so high that she would fall? Would all the energy she had expended be injurious to her health? Then the doubts faded, washed away by the successive waves of pleasure. She felt herself to be no more than a yawning chasm begging to be filled, and the man between her legs was filling her need. He heard the tearing of cloth as her hands scrabbled at his back, then like a cat she scratched at his bared flesh, spurring him to drive harder into her. As she came she cried out passionately almost the animal howl of a vixen in season. Simon dimly heard the door open then close without anyone entering the room. His balls ached and tightened drawing up close to his body. He felt his fluids pulsing along his pizzle. Eventually both of them had cum. Simon lay still between her thighs, they held one another neither wanting to part, both striving to hold onto the exquisite passion they had shared. When Simon's pizzle softened and fell from her with a soft plop, Alice felt their co-mingled body fluids flowing stickily over her thighs. She was still breathing in short gasps said. "Dear Simon, I have never before been tumbled by a man such as thou. Tell me how didst thou become so learned in the arts of love?" She choked off any reply he might have made by kissing him on the lips. It was a long lingering kiss that took his breath away, delivered by a woman who had found a sexual nirvana she had never believed she would reach. "Promise me Simon that thou wilt visit me again." He answered her in the flowery and courtly language that was customary in those days. "Sweet lady how could I not visit thee again. Fair lady dost thou not realize 'tis thou who holds my heart captive." Much later, when Simon returned to his rooms he grimaced as he removed his doublet. He had only purchased it new this Easter; and now the back panel of the garment had been rent into shreds, at the hands of Alice. Fortunately she had not wrenched apart the gold chain that suspended the ivory Talisman from his neck. Before he retired he wrote up his journal for the day. "Did halek AB harumscarum plene et volenter" The next morning he was barely out of his bed before Alice Blague's maid was at the door. "I cannot see thy mistress today," Simon said, adding he had other patients to see and important business to conduct. The girl looked slyly at him. "Doctor I am not here on my mistresses business, it is I who wishes to see thee." "Call upon me later then. Canst thou not see that I am not as yet dressed?" The girl pushed past him. "I do not wish to see thee dressed." Once in the room she turned to Simon and embraced him. "Sir thee may take me for a shameless doxy, but that is not my usual nature. I saw thee and my mistress. I saw a sight of great wonderment to one of my sex and station. I saw proof that a man can know the secrets of a woman's nature and bring to her fulfillment. Gentle doctor wilt thee do to me what thee didst to my mistress, bring to me such transports of joy?" The maid's words tumbled out in a rush, when she had finished speaking her face was flushed. "Sire thee must think me a bawdy mort." Gently Simon took hold of her shoulders. "If thou wishes to halek with me, then when in this chamber thou shouldst address me as thou or Simon, and not thee." "Oh, sire! How can I be so familiar with one of your station?" "No! Not sire, but Simon. On the bed we are but one. Between thy legs is as the jewel of the highest lady in the land." The maid gasped, fearfully looking about. "Sire! Simon thou shouldst not say such things about our Sovereign lady." "I trust thee. Thou wouldst not betray me for a silver purse. Now wench come lie upon my bed with me, and let us seek the source of our bodies more carnal delights." "Thou art right I am a trusty wench who would never betray my friends. Not for gold nor carnal delights." "And how art thou called trusty wench?" "Rose sir." "Then come Rose let us make some sport and bring delight to one another." He said kissing her hand. When he led her to the bed it had been Simon's intention to merely unpin Rose's kerchief to expose her breasts and lift her skirts to access her quim. Then it was as if the little figure whispered in his ear. Shock showed on Rose's face when he said to her. "Let me remove every garment from thy body." "Sire, 'tis cold." "I shall warm thee. Come Rose, be a bawdy wench. Every stitch. My lewd imaginations shall warm us both." As he spoke Simon began to unpin her kerchief. Below her breasts the simple dress was gathered by a draw-cord which Simon swiftly loosened. "Sire, is this not unnatural? Should we, sire?" Rose protested as he pulled the garment over her head. Then Simon removed his own clothes and was soon naked save the ivory Talisman. When he pushed her back on the bed, Rose was in a state of shock. Like her mistress Rose was not inexperienced in sexual matters. However, never had she contemplated the idea of lying completely naked with a man. She could not recollect a time in her life when she had been completely nude. She had no time to think further before the doctor was parting her thighs. A tingling thrill swept through her body, masking all other thoughts. His digit was gently brushing against her clitoris. Deep in her belly she could feel a churning sensation and a wetness. She felt so liquid; so fluid, that she could easily have believed that he had discovered some untapped fount within her. When his strong fingers began to enter her, she could feel herself being opened. The cool air in the room fanned by the movement of his hands wafted over her hot sex. Nerve endings all over her body began to jangle when he fastened his lips upon her breast. Her mind became a labyrinth of turmoil within which she had one brief, rational thought. She could now understand why her mistress had been howling like a hound bitch in season. Then his actions swept her away into a world of ecstasy over which she had no control. She had just reached a heavy breathing pinnacle of delight when he lifted his hand from her quim, rolling her onto her stomach. Spreading her legs she squirmed, anticipating his obvious intention to enter her from the rear. Lifting the hair away from her neck, he began to lavish kisses on her nape. Trailing his tongue down her spine, he left a trail of slick saliva sending shivers through her body as his lips and tongue continued down, past her waist. When he did not touch her quim, Rose responded by moving her hips in a grinding motion. She brought a hand between her legs and began to masturbate. Simon watched. Never before had he seen a woman stimulate herself. In point of fact, he had not realized women masturbated. As he watched, the little ivory character seemed to grin at him as it danced a jig between her legs.

The figure was so real to Simon that he fingered the Talisman to be certain it still hung from his neck. Watching the girl, he realized it was as if she was trying to climb over a high wall; climbing up until her fingers tantalizingly touched edge of the top, only to fall back. "Please sire I prey thou … canst thou do something? Oh, please, release me from this torment." It seemed to her that an eternity had passed without him touching her. Simon had been extracting so much pleasure from observing the heights of Rose's lust that he had been unaware of his own physical need. Now her pleas drew his attention to his own desires. The lasciviousness of the situation had given him a rampant erection, his balls weighing heavily with unreleased fluids and his auto-stimulated pizzle pulsating. Simon turned Rose over onto her back, kneeling between her legs to enter her. A series of images flashed through his brain so vividly they could have been pictures in front of his eyes. The little ivory figure had not failed him so far. "I want to try a novel way of doing it." He said to the girl as he dismounted and lay back on the bed. "I will do as thou wills," said the bemused girl. "Get up. Mount me as a man would a steed, to ride astride." Rose did as he had asked, first she was astride of his waist, but realizing his intentions she shuffled down so she was astride of his hips. "Thou mean like thus?" She asked lowering herself. Simon grasped his rampant pizzle, guiding it toward her dripping quim. His pizzle slid into her when she lowered herself. "Now Rose my sweet. Move up and down." Grasping her hips, Simon guided the limits of her movement. "Thou art a goodly wench." Simon reached between her legs, fingering her clitoris. It took all Rose's concentration to maintain the motion. She felt her insides melt into liquidity that flowed out over his thighs and abdomen, certain the bed covers would be soaking wet. "Sire thou makest a willing whore out of me. For thy touch I wouldst do all, and more to do whatever thou commandest." "Fear not my sweet Rose I do not make a whore of thou, all I do is satisfy thy wanton lusts. As a man who knows, I can assure thee that no whore enjoys her trade, as thou dost enjoy thy sport." Simon's eyes were fixed upon her breasts. As she moved up and down, her breasts bounced as if keeping time. His balls were aching, straining to cum, an impulse he was resisting by every trick of mind control he knew. If it had not been for the ivory figure he knew that he would have shot his load long before. Now it was a contest and he was fighting to avoid the figure's reproachful looks or wagging finger. Every time he seemed to be near cumming he clenched his buttocks, breathing in and held his breath, set himself to solving a mental puzzle. When the moment passed he would relax. Relief came when she said, "Dear doctor, have mercy on me. I must stop, my legs are unused to this and my quim feels sorely abused." At these words Simon jerked his hips up from the bed driving into her and splattering his hot seed deep within her. Feeling his cum she collapsed forward, lavishing kisses not only on his lips but all over his face. "Oh my lover! Oh sire thou art truly the most wonderful man in London town - nay in the kingdom." Simon held Rose in his arms soothing her until it was she who said. "Oh, Sire, I have to go. My mistress will wonder where I am, and I have not completed the business she sent me about." ** _PART II_** By nature, both Alice Blague and her maid Rose were both gossips and braggarts, neither woman being able to resist describing her experience with Doctor Simon Forman. Both women told her female friends and acquaintances that Simon had taken her to peaks of delight she had never imagined was achievable with a man. In a baker's shop on Silver Street, the maid Rose, was overheard telling the baker's wife. "I tellest thou true good-wife, he has a knowing art with a woman's body, I never thought to find such artifice in a man. He knew just the best fashion in which to stir my nubbin, bringing to me transports of delight. So long did I tarry that my mistress didst make to box my ears." "And did she?" asked the baker's wife eager for any tasty morsel of gossip. "Nay. I said that I wouldst tell the Dean of her adventures." The baker's wife clicked her tongue, and shook her head in disapproval. The next day an unusual event occurred in the bakers shop. The baker's wife donned her cloak and left the apprentice, whom she usually called shiftless and lazy, to mind the shop. She made her way through the twisting alleys and narrow streets to Saint Botolphs. Although London had a large population, most Londoner's knew where everyone of note lived. As she got near the Stone House she slowed her pace, she did not want to be seen hurrying to see Doctor Forman, whom she had not previously consulted. Simon's servant, Stephen ushered the baker's wife into the room that served not only as Simon's consulting room, but also his study. Simon rose from his desk greeting the woman with a sketched bow. Once she had taken the seat he offered, the baker's wife looked around the room. The books and writing materials reassured her. Truly the doctor was a very well educated man; from the look of his library and his person she hazarded a guess that he would be renowned among his peers. An open door showed Simon's bedchamber. It was exactly as Mistress Blague's maid had described. "I asked my good lady how may I be of service to her." A tone of exasperation had crept into Simon's voice. "Yes, sir. A customer of mine, the maid of mistress Blague, told me of a wondrous treatment thee didst prescribe for her." 'Damn these wenches who cannot hold their tongues,' Simon thought. He was beginning to regret his dalliance with Alice Blague and her maid. The baker's wife was the fourth woman that day, who directly or indirectly had asked for the same treatment as he had administered to Alice Blague and her maid Rose. "I cannot treat thee if I knowest not thy symptoms." "Good doctor, if I may make free in my speech?" The woman waited for a nod to continue. "What ails me is not my sickness but my husband's. He is a good man who provides well for me, but he is afflicted by a spirit of lethargy, that on many occasions prevents him from discharging the duty that is surely every good wife's right. And when he does discharge this duty," she paused and looked about her as if to check no-one could overhear, "He leaves me with an itch that is quite unsatisfied." "Good lady I have no physic for the symptoms you describe." "Doctor Forman, I implore you to do something. Alice Blague's maid told me that you relieved her itch most wonderfully." Even as the woman spoke, Simon could feel the figure on the Talisman tickle his chest, as it began to dance. "My dearest lady to relieve the itch you describe I must ask you to disrobe." Seeing the look of surprise and horror on the woman's face he added, "I can assure you that total nakedness is a part of the treatment, if thou wish thou may go and check with the maid." As she was not the first to call upon his services that day, Simon was exhausted and hoped against hope that the woman would decide to leave. "Nay, Sir. I am here and I will do thy bidding." Simon pointed towards the open doorway. "Let us retire to my chamber, where we may make sport and sate thy lustful itch." At Simon's invitation the baker's wife was into the bedchamber and divesting herself of her clothing, faster than a long-dog after a hare. By the time Simon bolted the door, the woman stood shivering, her arms wrapped around her body to shield her unaccustomed nakedness. "Pray, good lady, lower thine arms and disport to my eyes thy god given charms," Simon said as he began removing his shirt. When he was finished undressing, and stood naked but for the Talisman, he scrutinized the woman's ample body. He could see that she had certainly not stinted herself in sampling her husband's wares. Pendulous breasts drooped over a well-rounded belly, a belly that hung so as to shield her slit from sight. It was only when he laid her on the bed that he was afforded a view of her quim. Opening her legs he was surprised the labia were thin and mean, when compared with other women he had known. Her nubbin was not at all prominent, but instead was so small that at first Simon thought she did not have one. It was with his sense of touch rather than sight that he confirmed its existence. Relieved, he gently tapped the minuscule organ, her reaction proving that despite its size it responded to the same stimuli as larger, more prominent nubbin. As he tapped, she sighed, her orifice glistening as her fluids flowed. Her vagina was dilating, then contracting, then dilating again before going into a cycle of powerful contractions. Simon followed the dictates of his guide, the dancing figure. Every touch, every movement of his hand was as prescribed. As he pleasured the woman Simon made mental notes of what he did and the woman's reaction. The Baker's wife knew now that Alice Blague's maid had not exaggerated her description of Simon's skills. His hands played her body with the expertise of a court musician playing a lute. Gently his hands glided, barely touching her, caressing some parts. The insistent light tapping of his finger against her nubbin, like the secret tap of a lover at the bedroom window. The firm palm massage milking her to an orgasm solely by stimulating her mons. When he touched her breasts he kneaded them in the manner that her husband worked the dough. Spikes of pleasant pain jabbed through her body when he took her nipples, rolling them between his forefinger and thumb. Her womb tingled with prickly heat. It seemed that the fluids he drew from her should be boiling, such was the fire within her. She did not want what she was feeling to ever stop. She did not have the voice nor the words to convey what it was she felt, save the moments when fear swept in and her heart pounded as if it were an anvil being struck by the smith's hammer. When she closed her eyes, great arcs of lightning flashed in the darkness. "Sire, I beg thou delay no more! Please enter me now sir!" He had lifted one of her heavy breasts, licking the sensitive underside. The tingling sensation was more than she could bear. "Sire! Desist from what thou dost to me or I shall surely die!" she screamed at Simon. Drumming her fists on his shoulder blades, the nearest part of him to her, only resulted in him pulling his hands away from her body. "Sire! Please do something! Do not desist when I am in such great heat!" Without warning Simon plunged three fingers into her dilated quim, observing the strength of her vaginal muscles convulsively clamping around them so tightly he felt a mild degree of pain. 'Such a wondrous and powerful organ,' Simon mused, withdrawing his fingers and kneeling between her legs. For a big woman the baker's wife was amazingly agile. As Simon parted her labia and positioned his pizzle at the entrance of her vagina, she drew up her legs, clasping them around his waist. Holding him tightly she pulled him into her and using her legs she assumed control, dictating the speed and depths of his thrusts. Each time he felt the pleasant discomfort that is a precursor to ejaculation, Simon would draw in his perineum muscle, effectively stoppering the ejaculation. Despite the state of her arousal prior to his entering her, she was not able to cum. As his pizzle slid into and out of her vagina, Simon knew if he lay down with her astride him, he could diddle her nubbin but he wanted to find a different solution. Clearing his mind he conjured-up his little dancer, and quickly enough an image appeared. Hooking his arms behind her knees he pulled her legs up. She gasped when he forced her legs over until her feet touched the mattress each side of her head. He knew her quim would be spread, the labia parted like the wings of a butterfly. Instead of moving his hips in an up down motion he slid forward and back, his bristly pubic hair brushing across those sensitive areas he had exposed. The pleasure he induced made her oblivious to the pain of having her body compressed into an unaccustomed position. Even when cramp made her thigh feel as if it was in the grip of a steel claw, she was enjoying the sensation too much to ask him to stop. Then it happened. It was like an explosion. Her whole body heaved as a warm wet wave washed over her. When the doctor had made her cum with his hands she had thought it the peak of ecstasy, but this now far surpassed it. It took away her breath, she was sure that she felt her hammering heart pause and momentarily stop. Simon was equally shocked when at the crucial moment she had let out a piercing scream, breaking his concentration and boiling the seed from his swollen testes. He had barely an instant to gasp for breath when the baker's wife was greedy to once again taste the sweet fruit of passion. No sooner had Simon lowered her legs and withdrawn his limp pizzle, than she moved about in the bed began to lick it. Pulling back the foreskin she lightly played her tongue over the velvety glans. Then with his testes cupped in her hand, she took the entire length of his pizzle into her mouth. She was undaunted when he had not become instantly hard. Simon collapsed on his back and she lay curled up on the bed beside him, her head resting on his belly with his pizzle in her mouth. Gently she sucked until at last the faint stirrings became stronger. She gagged when Simon bucked his hips, driving his erect pizzle into her throat. She looked puzzled when Simon pulled her head away from his rampant pizzle and said. "Kneel astride of me." Once straddling him she was no longer mystified. Taking hold of his pizzle, she lowered herself onto it. "No stay upright," he said when she leaned towards him, assuming a position on all fours. As she moved herself so that her body was once more upright, she began moving up and down. Simon inserted a finger into her slick slit, massaging her nubbin, urging her to move faster and again she obeyed. Her whole body appeared to be in motion. Her big breasts bounced off her stomach, rising so it seemed as if they would fly over her shoulders. This time he did not have to hold back for her. With a victorious shout she announced that she had achieved her goal before him. Simon had to grasp her bucking hips to prevent her leaping from his pizzle at the same time, arching his back to drive deeper into her. She had cum for a second time before he came. Simon was not unhappy when soon after he had cum she pointed at the unshuttered window and said. "Oh doctor! The light it is fading I must return home." "Yes, good lady. Make haste, as nightfall is nigh." After dressing, the baker's wife ran her fingers through her hair. As she pulled her cloak about her she said to him. "May I consult with thee again?" "If thee wishes it so. Dost thou desire my man Stephen to escort thee to thy shop?" Simon replied as he saw her through the door. ** _PART III_** The baker's wife was not the last woman in search of sex who crossed the threshold of Doctor Simon Forman's home. When women gossiped, one of their favorite subjects was sex, those who knew him spoke of Simon's sexual prowess. Regardless of rank and station his fame became known from the meanest hovels outside the city walls in Southwark to the court of Queen Elizabeth. Sir John Hawkins's wife consulted Simon just before her husband and Drake set out on what was to become their final, fatal voyages. During the same period Rose Davis, the poor wife of an ordinary sailor in one of Drake's ships also consulted him. When women consulted him, they came not only to see a famous doctor, but also to see one of the foremost astrologers of the age. For from the time that he possessed the Talisman, his skills as a practitioner of both medicine and astrology underwent a miraculous improvement. His practice grew as his fame spread across the sexes. Wealthy ship-owners consulted him about the fate of their ships, merchants about business ventures, clergy and courtiers about promotions. Old and young, rich and poor flocked to his door. Soon he was able to afford the trappings of a gentleman, a horse and a sword for himself and a mount for his servant. He took to signing his letters Simon Forman gent, a major step, which was not taken lightly in those class- conscious times. It would appear that the Talisman protected Simon from coming to any harm at the hands of jealous husbands. From his extensive records it is apparent that there was little secretive about his relationship with Avis Allen, who's husband Edward owned "The Ship" in Thames Street. Yet it is also a matter of record that not only did Edward consult Simon in a professional capacity but he also socialized with him. Alice Blague's husband, the Dean of Rochester, also consulted with Simon almost constantly posing questions about his prospects for advancement. The cleric also socialized with Simon. By 1599, six years after he had received the Talisman, Simon was affluent enough to marry a woman who came from a landed family, the niece of a knight. However marriage did not stop Simon from carrying out his mission of teaching women how to appreciate the joys of sex. Even a member of the all-powerful Cecil family, Lady Norris, a noted hypochondriac, consulted Simon. As also did Lady Frances Howard the wealthy nineteen-year-old widow of a City of London Alderman, who was to marry the Earl of Hertford and then upon his demise, King James VI/I's cousin the Duke of Lennox. For a long time the only protection the Talisman appeared unable to give to Simon, was shielding him from the wrath of the Doctors and Barber Surgeons. Time after time despite his growing wealth and fame, or perhaps because of it, he was committed to prison. Eventually in 1603 he gained some immunity when he was awarded a license to practice medicine from Cambridge University. This was awarded on the basis of 'long exercise and experience'. One of his sponsors was Thomas Grimston, physician to Queen Elizabeth and after her death to King James. During the Plague years Shakespeare had penned his sonnet to the Dark Lady, who has been identified as Emilia Lannier, former mistress of the Lord Chancellor. Four years later in 1597 Simon, who was an inveterate theatergoer, brushed past the shadow of William Shakespeare. Emilia Lannier came to consult him about her husband's fate, much the same question as Lady Hawking and Rose Davis had posed. Simon never a man to miss an opportunity, took every chance to relieve Emilia's loneliness. Despite both having married, Simon remained her friend and confidant. In 1609 she felt slighted when Shakespeare's Sonnets were published. As Simon was a remarkable character whose success can be ascribed to the Talisman, so Emilia was also notable. This one time courtesan and mistress who lived by using her sex, in 1611 underwent a fundamental change and published a volume of poetry "Salve Deus Rex Judaecorum". Some see this as a reply to the implied slanders of the Sonnets and others see this as the first feminist publication. On Sunday the fourth of September 1611, Simon was seated at the table eating supper with his wife and son. Familiarity breeding contempt, whilst other women were overawed by Simon's powers his wife Anne was not. "Simon, tell me if thou has so much revealed when thou casts and scryes, dost thou also not know whether it will be the man or his good wife who wilt die first?" "And if I knew Tronco wouldst thou really want to know?" Simon laughed for they had shared this conversation many times. "Simon! Tell me no lies. Shall I bury you, or no?" Even as she asked the question Simon felt the Talisman stir. The words tumbled out. "Oh, Tronco, thou wilt bury me, but thou wilt much repent it." Anne did not seem to grasp the import of his words. "Yea how long first?" The figure was dancing in front of his eyes, the words that passed his lips were not of his choosing. "I shall die ere Thursday night." Simon took note of the warning, and put his affairs in order. In his will he left his papers and books to his friend Doctor Napier another practitioner of the occult arts. To his wife and son he left the not inconsiderable fortune of £12000. Late on Tuesday afternoon Simon took a boat from the steps on the upriver side of London Bridge. "Take me to Putney." He instructed the waterman before huddling down into the stern seat of the boat. Usually Simon would have carried on a lively conversation with the boatman, but today he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. The cloak he kept wrapped around himself not only excluded the cold east wind, but also shut out the world. He knew that he was fallible, he had made predictions before that for various reasons had not come to fruition, he hoped he was wrong this time. But within himself he was sure that on Thursday he would meet his death. Landing in Putney he made his way to the house where Emilia had her lodgings. "I am sorry sir but my mistress is not receiving any visitors." Her maid had said when he enquired if he might see her. "Wench return to thy mistress and tell her 'tis Doctor Simon Forman who wishes to converse with her." When the maid returned to the door she swung it open. "Sire, my mistress will see thee in her chamber." "Simon pray be seated, the wench will bring us some wine." Emilia said to him with the easy familiarity of an old friend. It was only when the maid had brought the wine and had withdrawn from the chamber that Emelia asked the question she had wanted answered since Simon's unannounced arrival. "Well good sire what is it that brings thee to see me. In all the years of our acquaintance thou hast never once ventured to my door unbidden." "I brought this for thee." "Your Talisman, the familiar, the power through which thou dost thy work. Why thou hast always said twould be only in death that thou wouldst relinquish it." "Fear not I am not yet a ghost, but 'ere the week is out I fear I shall be." "Art thou ill?" "Nay my fair lady naught of great import ails me, only the aches and pains one of my years must expect. But this Sunday last, as I jested with Tronco I received a premonition of my death, I assure thee that on Friday thou wilt hear news of my demise." "Why dost thou bring to me this bequest? What of your other friends, should it not be in their safe keeping?" "Emilia, I must hand this to someone who understands the power of this Talisman, and thou art the only one, apart from myself who has touched the medallion and has unprompted, discerned its inherent power." "Simon, how do I use it? To what purpose am I meant to employ it?" "Fair Emilia the answer to your questions I do not possess. For an answer you will have to consult with the Talisman." He said taking the medallion from his neck and holding out it to her. "Nay Simon do not remove it yet." When he had replaced it around his neck she rose from her seat. "Come with me to my bedchamber and let us for a last time, if fate wills it to be a last time, couple in thy delightful manner." She held out her hand, and when he was on his feet led him to her bedchamber. In the bedchamber Emelia allowed Simon to unpin her kerchief, revealing her breasts. Her olive skin, making a striking contrast with the pale golden yellow of her gown. Swiftly she loosened the tie at her waist and removed the simple dress. Naked she unlaced the fastening of his doublet and cast it to the floor, her nimble fingers expertly loosened his breeches. Like a pair of children they dived onto the bed as soon as he was naked. To exclude the draughts Emilia pulled closed the bed's heavy drapes. They lay in one another's arms as they allowed their eyes to become accustomed to the semi darkness. Then Simon took one of her nipples into his mouth and began to gently suckle on it whilst moving his tongue in a circular motion over its hardening surface. She felt the familiar tingles flowing through her body down towards the seat of her moistening sex. "Oh Simon what a loss to womanhood thou death will be. At this moment I would wish to die in bliss with thee." She groaned and parted her legs as his fingers began to explore her wet slit. Then his fingers found their goal and he began to toy with her aroused nubbin. She spread her legs wider when he began to slip two fingers inside her. Relinquishing her nipple he began to kiss and lick his way down her body over her stomach, briefly pausing his journey to toy with her belly button before resuming until he was met by the dense, dark forest of her fleece. She was taken by surprise, when instead of halting at this point, as he always had in the past, he moved along the edge of the hair then down along the crease that delineated the join of her thigh and rounded belly. It was like a Royal fireworks display, when he parted her legs and dived between them. She thrashed and writhed ecstatically on the mattress, in her head she could see shooting stars and hear the heavy crump of cannon as he sucked her nubbin between his lips. For the first time and the last time in his life Simon obeyed a dictate of the Talisman he had previously ignored, never before had he put his lips to a woman's sex. Smelling the faint muskiness, tasting the sweetness of the juices that flowed from her he regretted his previous temerity. He rubbed his tongue over her nubbin, in response her hips heaved convulsively. At very moment at the peak of her ecstasy Emilia Lannier wished she could die. She would have died gladly, if she could take into eternity with her the feelings she had at that very moment. Without any stimulation her nipples were tingling. From her waist down her body felt hot and wet. Muscles deep within her went into spasms, clutching at nothing more tangible than a pleasurable sensation. Simon guided by the two figures from the Talisman, who danced before his eyes, was on a final voyage into the unknown. He had always abhorred the practice of Sodomy yet now he was pressing his forefinger, which was coated in her juices against the red-ochre rosebud that guarded the forbidden portal. With a little pressure the bud flowered admitting his finger. She gasped with pleasure, pain and most of all with surprise, when he inserted a second finger into that place he had previously refused to so much as touch. "Oh dear Simon," she murmured as her fingers entangled themselves in his thick curly hair. "Thou art truly the best lover any woman will ever know." Simon did not stop sucking on her nubbin as he moved his fingers in and out of her. Before his eyes he could see the oily juices welling from her vagina. He savored the smell of her aroused body, and in a brief thought regretted that he had not done this before. "Dearest Simon enter me now, I want to feel you deep inside me, to feel the warmth of your essence." Reluctantly Simon relinquished her nubbin and withdrew his fingers from her anus. Then he began to kiss her belly, slowly he worked his way up her body, lavishing kisses upon her nut-brown skin until once again his lips had reached the underside of her rounded breast. Looking at her Simon thought she was as beautiful in her forty-first year as she had been when he had first known her as a young woman of twenty-seven, but it was her intelligence and independence that he admired the most. It was when Simon was kneeling about to get between her legs that Emilia made her request. "Simon would thou experiment further?" One of his eyebrows raised quizzically. "What dost thou have in mind." "Enter me by the portal where thy fingers played so sweetly." "Thou wantest me to sodomize thee?" "Sweet Simon art thou shocked? Dost the master in the arts amore act like some narrow minded bigot and decry that, that he has never tried?" "Tis true I have never indulged in sodomy." "Then dear Simon try it now with me, if not for thy sake for mine." She rolled onto her stomach and raised herself onto all fours. "See when thou enters me thou canst grasp my dugs." "Sweeter, better molded dugs I have never known." "Use a little spittle to ease thy way." She instructed as she felt his pizzle butting blindly against her sphincter. Simon spat on his hand, smeared the spittle over the head of his pizzle and anointed the rosebud of her anus. Positioning the head against her anus he thrust with his hips, suddenly the resistance gave way. He was surprised at how easily the engorged head slid into her. "Still thy movements a moment Simon. Wait whilst my body adjusts to thy presence." She said, knowing from experience that the feeling of discomfort would soon pass. Thrilling sensations tingled through her caused by Simon toying with her nipples and kneading her breasts. She could feel her sphincter relaxing as it accommodated his tool. "Now dear Simon drive it home with a will!" As Simon thrust his hips forwards he experienced a sensation he had never known before. It felt as if he was pushing his pizzle into a warm, moist, tight fitting velvet glove that clung to the entire length of his tool. As he pulled back he felt the same delightful sensation. Thrusting in once again, he regretted that he had always rejected this delightful way of having sex. As Simon's thrusting settled into a rhythm, his tool pushing deep into her, Emelia could feel tingling run along her spine where the Talisman trailed along her back. "Harder dearest, harder!" Emilia whimpered as orgasm after orgasm wrenched themselves from her body in quicker and quicker succession until they merged into one, and she felt as if her body was a formless mass of wet flowing ecstasy. Her only link that she was made of flesh was the pressure of Simon's hands and strong fingers on her breasts. His testes throbbed and tightened drawing up into his body. Using his practiced techniques of mind control he did not allow himself to ejaculate, whilst enjoying the mental joys of multiple orgasms. Her breasts ached with the punishing manipulation to which they had been subjected. But it was only when she began to feel sore that she said. "Enough Simon please let thy self cum." She felt his hot sticky fluids spurting into her bowel. Without him withdrawing she slowly lowered herself and he shadowed her movements, until she lay face down on the bed, pressed onto the mattress by his body. Carefully they moved as one, turning so they lay like spoons. "Well didst thou enjoy it?" Emelia asked him. "So much so, I rue not having indulged in sodomy before. I could kick myself for a fool, I should have known that an act the church decrees a sin would be a sweet sport." "Couldst thou go again this instant?" "Nay I fear not! Not now fair lady, for with thy sweet ass thou hast squeezed my pizzle as dry as an old bone." "That is all to the well my dear, for thou hast left my arse as raw as meat on the butcher's shambles." "Then both our lusts are sated?" "My lusts are truly satisfied, but then thou hast never left me with any carnal desire of mine not satisfied." "Emilia satisfying thy desires has always been a pleasure." Once again he took the Talisman from around his neck. "And now thou must accept this gift." "Oh Simon if thou insists I shalt keep it safe for thee, but if on Friday thou art still alive I insist that thou takest it back." She did not bow her head for him to put it around her neck until he said, "on my oath if I live and am well I wilt take it back." Soon after Emilia rose from her bed and drew back the drapes. In the late afternoon sunlight, that streamed through the window, the white ivory Talisman glowed against her dark skin. Simon dressed and bade her farewell. On Thursday after eating his dinner he thought the danger had passed. He left the house to conduct some business in Southwark. He was crossing the Thames in a rowing boat when, according to the boatmen he clutched his side. Moments later he was dead.

All characters are 18+ and no characters are taken from real life, just fantasy. And I'm not a professional writer, just a normal guy who's writing for fun. Thanks and have a good read! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Things aren't the same after my father's death recently and the fact that it's our semester holidays for us and I've to be home to perform the aftermath doesn't help me at all. My step-mom however, shed some tears when he died, but I do know obviously that they're as fake as her. When my dad brought her home a few months back, I instantly felt the gold-digger aura around her, the way she dresses, her friends, her daily lifestyle. I couldn't care lesser about her spending his money or whatever as I haven't had any dream of claiming his money as his heir. But she definitely looks like she does. I used to spend most of my time outside when I was in University, so I wouldn't interact much with her. While at home, she just orders around as if she's my mom or something while my dad didn't care about this. After his death, which happened a week back, she was acting all sad as if she lost the love of her life, which I found pretty weird and funny as the only thing she would be waiting eagerly is for his money. I'm sure that she made him write her name in the will, maybe when she's giving her body to him in exchange. He was 60 when he died while I remember she's around 35-40 now, and I just didn't show any interest in his property as I'd be out from university next year, as I'm 21 and I wanted to explore the world first and then settle with my own job independently. "Nick, aren't you supposed to be getting ready by now?" I hear her voice and wake up rubbing my eyes. "What is it?" I ask walking out of my room in my boxers and t-shirt looking at her in living room. "We're supposed to go to the lawyer?" she asks as if I forgot about it. "Duhh that's like 11AM or something and it's still not 9 yet" I say with a sigh hearing that angrily. "Who do you think will do the garden work today?" she asks raising her brows sitting on couch in her blue tight top and black knee-high skirt. "What? The gardener maybe I don't know." I say with a frown as I never did any of that shit so far as I know that my dad was rich enough to afford the maids to do these works. "Well not today, he's on leave, so do it and get ready and we'll leave by 10:30." she orders getting up. "Get fucked, I don't care." I say with a nervous chuckle as this is getting weird and walk towards my room to sleep again. A few moments later, I hear my door opening with a bang, and as I turn around on my bed, I can see her standing at the door folding her hands looking at me. "Now imagine a situation where you aren't able to pay your university fees for next two semesters..." she says looking at her nails in a bitchy way. "What do you mean?" I ask nervously even though I kind of get what she's trying to say. "You know what I mean. Once I get the whole property, you should be asking me for your living even if it's just for a year." She says with a wild smirk. "And? For that I've to do whatever you want me to do?" I ask furrowing my brows. "Well yes, thank god, you're not as dumb as your old man." She says rolling her eyes. I feel like hitting her to the wall and send her along with my beta dad for bringing her to the house in the first place. The way she stands and orders as if she's the woman of the house, but that explains why my dad became a simp to her. I take a deep long breath without saying anything and get up to walk to the garden. I finish the work in a few minutes and walk towards bathroom to fresh up and have some breakfast so that we can leave. She seems to be ready for the lawyer visit, and I assumed she would have prepared for the breakfast. I come out and get into a blue shirt and a blue jeans and the time is 10AM already. I walk inside the kitchen to have breakfast and there's nothing present anywhere. "Uhm where's the breakfast?" I ask walking towards living room where she's just chilling on couch scrolling through her insta. "It would be on table if you prepare it, or else you know where you would be" she says without looking at me. I clench my fists hearing that and walk back to kitchen assuming that she might have wantedly told the maids not to come today. I make some basic level pasta in 15-20 minutes and we finish eating by 10:35AM. We get inside the car, and I drive us to the lawyer's place and return after an hour. It was just the basic formalities about the aftermath of his death and the lawyer just said that there are some more things to check to finalize my dad's will and he'd inform us later tomorrow and send the will copies as that's how they do it. She still seems to be pretty excited about it while I just shrugged off. She made me do the lunch and dinner and I am feeling like a helpless weak man for doing all this. At least my dad used to get her pussy for being a simp, while I get nothing obviously. I wish the university opens again sooner so that I can be out of this temporarily. I am pretty tired of the day and sleeps early and the next day morning isn't any better than yesterday's. At around 10 or so, we receive a letter and it's obvious that people who are mentioned as beneficiaries will receive a copy of the will and I just took it and opened it before handing it over to her. I widen my eyes to see that it's my name mentioned in the will and the copy is addressed to me but not to her. There is not even a mention of her name in the copy of the will. Even I find it a weird as that's unlikely to happen and show it to her, and as expected, she panics more than anything. As if her whole life is dependent on the will, well maybe it is for her. She quickly calls the attorney to find out about it and I just stand in front of her confused but kind of excited about this. I can notice from her expressions that she got completely backstabbed by my late dad and that he didn't even mention her in the will. I grab her phone quickly, "So does that mean I get to keep the whole property?" I ask directly as the attorney guy is close to our family anyway. "Well yes Nick, that's what your dad wrote at least." He says simply. "Oh good then, thanks anyway." I say with excitement and cut the call and turn around to look at her. Her hands are shivering a bit and her face down, not knowing how to react to it as if she can't live without this will on her name. "Uhm, do I need to repeat the hearing again?" I ask grinning inside. "Oh fuck off! I'm sure there might be a mistake in it." She says acting out a confident grin, but her fears are visible clearly. "Are you sure? Because your name and my name aren't even close to be mistaken." I say with a chuckle. "Ok fuck off, I'm tired of this. I'll find about it by myself." She says irritated, turning around and walk towards her room. "And where would you do that? Planning of asking my dad directly?" I ask with a chuckle standing still. "That's none of your concern, just shut the fuck up." She says pretty irritated. "Of course it ain't my concern. But lunch is. Make sure you do something before 12 noon." I say walking towards my room to keep the copy of will in my cupboard. "What? What do you mean? I ain't doing any lunch for fuck's sake." she tries to act out a bitchy chuckle but end up with a nervous chuckle. "Uhm imagine your life if I instantly stop your money source. You can't go out with your friends, you can't afford your beauty stuff, and do I need to continue?" I ask walking to living room. "Oh fuck off, stop playing my card back on myself kid." she says rolling her eyes. "You get what you fucking deserve is all." I say shrugging off. "Now now, look at yourself." I say softly walking close to her, look down at her as she's around 165cm or so, I can feel her perfume hitting strong and her slight make-up on face, "these creams, this perfume, this dress, the house you're living, imagine all of them being taken from you at once. You can't enjoy your weekend parties with your Thot friends anymore, you can't use the car to go out. That wouldn't be a nice thing now, would it be?" I ask drawing a line on her cheeks with my index finger slowly and breathing in her face. She turns her face away feeling my breath on face and my body up-close to hers and afraid to imagine her situation, "Fine." She says simply and walks away from me to kitchen. I shrug off and walk to my room to sleep peacefully again as now I don't need to worry about my financial problems completely. I wake up around at 1 or so and walk towards kitchen to have lunch and she did make pasta for lunch. I take some in bowl and walk around to look for her and see her room locked from inside and assumed she might be sleeping or whatever. At around 5PM, while I am on couch lying and watching Netflix, she walks out of room in a gold glistening one-piece dress which reaches her thighs and sleeveless which exposes her arms and some of her flawless curves. I widen my eyes looking at her walking beside me towards the exit, without minding me. "Where are you going?" I ask turning my head as she is about to pick her high heels. "That's not your concern now is it?" she replies in a cold tone. "Well since 10AM today, it is my concern don't you think?" I ask quickly sitting on couch. She rolls her eyes hearing my response, "I'm going out for a party, I might be late tonight so don't wait for me. There, is that enough information?" she says with a sigh. As she bends down to put her heels, I can see her busty cleavage through the tight dress fitting her Latina curves. "It is enough information, but I don't think I'd agree for that." I say shrugging off. "The fuck does that mean? I am going out with my money you cunt, and not in our car, so I don't need to ask your permission." She says, about to open the door and leave. I quickly get up and run towards the door closing it forcefully and she panics as she steps away from me afraid. "The fuck is wrong with you? You think you can forcefully stop me from going out just because your name is in the will?" she asks holding her purse trembling slightly. "It is not about my dad's will. It is about your will to whore around and my will to keep you in control so that you won't spend the money recklessly for your activities." I say locking the door in front of her. "What do you mean by discipline? I'm literally your step-mom and you want to discipline me?" she says with a nervous chuckle. "Well yes, don't you think it's beautiful to see how the tables have turned?" I say with a grin and grab her purse forcefully while she resists slightly. "You're acting weird and this is not funny anymore." She says gritting her teeth, helpless when I grabbed her purse. "Let's say from now on, you should earn your money." I say opening her purse and I can see my dad's credit card and some hand cash in it. "What do you mean? I have to start searching for a job?" she asks confused. "Uhm not really. I know that you aren't fit for those stuff. What I meant was that you've to earn your money from me by doing things which I order you to do." I say taking the card and money out and throwing the purse on the couch. "What does that mean? By cooking and doing house chores? Just tell the maid to come from tomorrow. Now give me my purse and money back." She frowns. "It's not about those chores. And even for them, no, I won't recruit maids, you're supposed to do them from tomorrow if you want to stay here and get your living." I say walking towards couch and sits while she stands there confused and helpless. "I meant to say the chores which you used to do to my dad to get your money when he was alive." I say looking at her with a grin. "Oh fuck no. I see where this is going and no. That won't happen." She says shaking her head as she gets what I mean. "That will happen, because you want these other things to happen like partying and hanging out. Don't you think so?" I ask showing her the money to lure her. She closes her eyes hearing that and opens to look at the time on the clock and it's getting already late for her. "Look, you got me wrong, I'm not that kind of woman who does those things for money." She says trying to smile looking at me. "Look at yourself. Those curves, that ass, that rack, your way of talking, your friend's circle, the way you manipulated my day and ALMOST got the whole property..." I say with a chuckle. "You should at least be happy that I still didn't kick you out." I say shrugging off. She takes a deep breath helpless and walks towards me slowly and look down at me standing in front of me, "Look, why don't we deal with this rationally? Please? You can give me my money and purse back and I would do some chores like cooking and cleaning from tomorrow?" she tries to persuade me gently. "Sit down, I mean kneel down. Let's discuss this rationally." I say gesturing with my hand and lean back relaxed. She rolls her eyes hearing that and kneels down slowly and look at me, "OK? Now please give them to me." She says with a slight smile. "Not yet, I wanna see your skills. The skills you used on my dad to manipulate him." I say holding her hands and placing them on my thighs, as I'm just in my thigh high boxers. "Ugh can't we do this later? Please? It's already getting late Nick." She says with a sigh. "I don't think you clearly understood the meaning of rational discussion. I get to say what you do and what you don't. So should I repeat what you should do now to earn your party pass?" I ask again holding the money and flashing them in front of her eyes. "You're a pathetic disgusting cunt, fuck you." She says angrily tired of begging me. "Hmm, I don't care what you feel about me. But keep in mind that whenever you're pleasuring me, I'd love to hear some sweet words, or else you'd get cut in your pay." I say shrugging off and taking 5 notes and keeping them aside as a gesture of pay-cut. "Oh please, don't do that, and I'll keep that in mind. But don't reduce the money." She says in a submissive tone. "Depends. Depends on how good your hand and tongue skills are." I say gesturing my hands as if I'm in a dilemma to add the money or to reduce it. "Ok fine fine, I understand." She says as she slides her soft brown hands on my white hairy thighs and pull my boxers down slowly. She widens her eyes seeing my semi-huge boner suddenly popping out from boxers. I lean back keeping my hands behind my head relaxed as she removes my boxers completely. Her left hand starts to massage my musky balls while her right hand holds my shaft softly and starts stroking it gently as if she's not interested. "Any hooker would do this for a cheap price, you know that right? But what might make you better than them? So you better start imagining that you belong to me and you're your son's property from now on." I say holding her chin and throwing her face away gently. She turns her face straight again, feeling humiliated, and I can feel the result in her touches. They become gentler and the stroking intensifies. Her thumb starts to rub my frenulum gently and I suddenly start feeling as if I'm in heaven. I did get a few handjobs and blowjobs from the girls in my past relationships, but no one has done this. Her left hand continued to squeeze my hairy balls while her right thumb continued to rub my cock tip gently. She knows that she has to finish this quickly so that she can leave for the night, so she started putting the best effort to make me cum earlier and I can notice that clearly from her actions. I close my eyes facing the ceiling and hold her head, losing the control over my cock to her completely. Within a few seconds, I can feel her lips wrapping around my circumcised cock- tip and her tongue hitting my cock skin. Her tongue piercing touched my frenulum and for some reason it gave different level vibes to me, the way her plump red lips move around my cock and her soft hands taking control of my cock, now I get why my dad chose this Latina woman over others. Soon she started moving up and down on my cock, down to way bottom of my 7.5 inches cock. My cock-tip can feel her throat and her saliva dripping on my shaft making it messy down there. My grip on her hair stiffens as her lips wrap tighter and her movements pace up. She takes off her mouth and quickly starts licking my balls while continuing to rub my cock tip with her thumb, more than gently this time. That feels so good when her thumb uses my precum liquid to rub my cock-tip. I feel like releasing my load even though I don't want to yet. So far I was sure that I used to last at least 15-20 min in blowjob, but she just took 8-10 minutes and I'm close to cumming. I hold her hair tighter and starts squirting thick cum on her face. The projectile isn't far as it's a quick cum, but the quantity is moderate and within a few seconds, her beautiful make-up filled face is coated with my thick cum, some on her hair too. She freezes for a moment closing her eyes and taking it on her face reluctantly as I held her head tightly. "What the fuck? You can't even tell me when you're about to cum? Like how am I supposed to go out like this?" she shouts irritated. It takes me a few seconds to get out of orgasmic pleasure and look down at her, "I don't care. Go however or whenever or wherever you want and here's your money." I say throwing the notes on her cum-filled face and getting up pulling my boxers up. "The fuck? You're disgusting you know? To throw money on my face like that." She says angrily humiliated by that. "Ugh I don't care." I say simply and close the door behind me. I watch TV until 10 PM or so and then go to my room to sleep as she isn't home yet. The next day I wake up and go check her room to see if she's there but can't find her. I look at the time and it's 9 AM already so I just make breakfast for myself and start eating on couch. A few minutes later, I can hear a car stopping in front of the house and I walk to the door to see what's happening. I can see her tripping out of the car, drunk and staggering and laughing wildly as she kisses the guy in the car and stands there talking to him giggling. He seems to be around 40ish, has a fancy car in which he dropped her. I sit back on couch and a few moments later she arrives staggering and walks towards her room without minding me. "Where were you last night?" I ask looking at her. "Ugh stop acting like you're the man of the house. I don't need to answer to you about all my activities." She says with a sigh. "So what am I if not a man of the house?" I ask sternly. "And should I be calm while you go out and bitch around, getting laid with other men?" I ask with same tone. "Why do you care? You're not even my husband or whatever. I sucked you off yesterday and earned my pass last night, and that's it." She answers carelessly still drunk. "Oh no, you still don't understand." I say shaking my head with a chuckle getting up and walking towards her. I take the purse off of her hand and throw it on couch and make a turn around her while she staggers tired, drunk and unable to stand steady. I suddenly push her on to the couch. She furrows her brows and tries to get out of it. "What the fuck are you doing?" she asks drunk. "To show you how things would be done in here from now on." I say walking towards her and bending down, pinning her thighs to couch with my hands so that she can't escape. I can notice some dry cum stains between her inner thighs which clearly says that she got laid with someone when drunk. I quickly slide her one-piece dress up with force exposing her panties and her curvy belly. "Oh god don't. Don't you do this to me Nick." She tries to pull me but helpless with her woman power. I rip her panties away within a second and her brown pussy lips are visible slightly as she tries to cover it with her hands. I slowly bring my face to hers and breathe on her face as I kiss her cheeks gently. She turns away her face with disgust and still tries to cover her body with hands. "I know that you're a whore to money and you'd fuck anyone for that. So stop acting as if you're not." I whisper in her ears while my right hand parts her thighs forcefully and rubs her clit. "No, don't." she moans slightly, unable to resist the temptation, biting her lower lip, "I hate you." She moans again trying to resist. "I don't care, all I want is you to be my whore. To fuck my Latina step-mom like the slut that she is." I whisper again, kneeling on floor and rubbing her clit swiftly. Her moans increase and her body is responding differently than earlier as it's flinching and curling now feeling my touches. "I... I am not a whore." She denies it but her body clearly says that she's enjoying it with guilt. "Aren't you? Wouldn't you be my whore if I give the money back? Wouldn't you suck some random guy's cock for money?" I whisper again even though I know that I'm making some stuff up, but she seems to be turned on by the humiliation. "I... am...not... I don't want to be." She stutters and her body kept curling, wishing if it can get away from my touches. "But you are. All I'm doing is making you my whore instead of letting you on streets." I say licking her cheeks wildly and bring my face towards her breasts covered under the dress. I take her dress off completely as now I can see her resistance reduced almost completely and her body wants more. Her body is so stunning when naked, her brown Latina skin, curvy belly folds, voluptuous soft brown breasts, brown nipples and black areolas, brown pussy lips and pink inner pussy flesh, thick thighs and shaved armpits. I start to suck her nipple gently and pinch the other nipple as she moans and holds my hair gently, losing control of her body. The fact that she's still drunk, helped a lot to take control over her bitchy mind. Her deep belly button, her curvy folds and her thighs starts to jiggle slightly as her body responded to me. "Now say it louder... Aren't you a whore?" I whisper softly but with a manly voice. She bites her lips as I move down towards her pussy, "I... I am." She whimpers softly as my tongue lands on her pink clit. "Whose whore?" I ask sternly as I continue rubbing it and get up to drop my boxers down with my other hand. My hard cock is throbbing to get inside her. "You...Yours" she whimpers, "Your whore!" she says looking up at me with a bit of guilt, but with more of lust. "Now that's how you should behave from now on." I say with a grin and places my knee on couch and lifts her right leg as I bring my shaft closer to her wet pussy. "But...I don't want to..." she mutters softly as her sober self is trying to act over her drunk state. I quickly shove my hard dick inside her wet pussy and without any friction, I can go balls deep within the first push. "Your loose hole says otherwise. That shows how many dicks you took for money. What would that make you if not for a whore?" I say sternly as my balls hit her ass cheeks while I pound her. She whimpers and screams gently, "Aaaangh." as I hold her thighs gently. Her belly folds are making ripples and her soft breasts are jiggling freely. "Fuck yes, that feels so good." She says biting her finger and pinching her nipples. "Whose cock is bigger? Mine or my dad's? Or the guy's who dropped you off?" I ask gasping for breath. "Yours! Fuck I needed it inside my pussy the moment I saw it." She blurts out drunk and moaning. A few more thrusts later, I pull out and slap on her ass as a gesture for her to turn around on her fours on couch. She slowly turns around burying her face in the couch and raising her plump thick Latina ass up. I get on my knee on couch to raise my cock up to her ass and push it gently inside her pussy again. A few thrusts later, I'm deep inside and it seems that I'm hitting her inner spots now compared to the previous position. I bend down to caress her back with my chest and kiss her neck gently, squeezing her hanging breasts gently. "Who do you love to be a whore to? My dad? Or me?" I whisper gently. Her eyes roll as my cock head hits her inner walls and raises her face up to answer me, "Yours! For your cock! Oh god!" she whimpers holding her breath and her breasts kept jiggling along with her body. "That's what you would be from today. My whore. My cum-slut. My fuck-toy." I whisper gently and lick her ears before I lift my head and chest from her back and stand straight with my knee bent, continuing to fuck her. My thumb starts rubbing around her tight asshole and I can see her contractions as my thumb try to penetrate it. "No, not there." She screams slightly whimpering. "You haven't had any of your men using this hole?" I ask gasping and pacing down a bit. "No. It hurts and don't." she says reluctantly as if she means it. I suddenly push my right hand thumb inside, it felt more like pinning down. The friction is too high and it's as if she is really an anal virgin. "Aaaaanghhh, fuck you... Don't do this." She screams louder feeling my thick thumb inside her butt. Her anal walls held my thumb tightly, without letting me pull out nor to push deeper. The fact that I forgot to lube it up or at least spit on it, isn't helping her to take the pain. I tried a few more times, and now I can push it a bit deeper and I started to pull and push it slowly and she seems to be getting used to the pain now. Her pussy lips grip my cock while her anal holes grip my thumb and her fists hold the couch waiting for me to finish. A few more thrusts with increased pace and I felt like cumming inside her. She's too drunk to realize that I'd cum inside her and I don't care enough to pull out and continued to fuck her gasping for air. I release my cum inside her, taking deep breaths and pulling my thumb out and holding her waist. Thick white cum starts flowing down from her pussy down to her thick thighs and her body kept pulsating just a while before I came inside her. Her knees and thighs become so weak that she can't be on her fours anymore and crashes on couch with cum flowing down freely. The fact that she's drunk and tired with a sleepless night, and fucked by two men, made her restless and not being able to get up or move or do anything to clean up. I get off of the couch and pull my boxers up and walk towards bathroom to clean with tissue, leaving her on couch naked, and used. She wakes up at around 4 PM and finds herself on the couch lying naked, without any clothes nor sheets on her, smelling cum on her body as if she's been used and left there uncleaned. She looks at me as I'm sitting on chair across the couch and quickly keeps the pillow on her breasts to cover her naked body. "What did you do to me?" she asks confused and looking around for her clothes. "Eh just what you were meant for." I say looking at her without minding much. "No what the fuck... Where are my clothes? And why am I naked? I remember getting inside clothed and talking to you while pushed me on couch... what did you do to me you cunt?" she shouts angrily still not being able to find her clothes. "Oh about that, I made a few changes to your living style. From now on, you're not supposed to wear anything while at home. You can wear something when you go out, and you wouldn't stay out overnight from now on." I say shrugging off. "Oh god, you're fucked up. You're completely retarded." She says shaking her head and getting up holding the pillow on her breasts and run towards her room to open her cupboard for clothes. All she could find are obviously fancy dresses as I already disposed of her normal clothes like her nighties or her pjs. She walks out swiftly looking pretty pissed off at me, "The fuck did you do for real? Where are my clothes?" she shouts sternly standing in front of me. "Why do you want me to say everything twice or thrice? You won't be allowed to wear anything while you're at home. And today morning we concluded finally that you're my whore forever and not allowed to fuck others." I say shrugging off getting up and pulling the pillow off of her hand forcefully and throw it on couch, leaving her naked. "Now stop being a bitch and start cleaning the house and do the dishes and make dinner. NAKED" I say sternly walking away from her while she stands naked, confused, angry, but helpless. It took me a week to get her straight and to make her understand the rules clearly. But now she almost got used to it, by being a brainless doll step- mom. My morning routine starts with waking up with a boner and letting her suck me off and then breakfast and then watch some TV for a while as she prepares for lunch, naked in kitchen. I can just spank or squeeze her breasts whenever I want, and she even stopped resisting. The evenings are a bit different as I do feel like kissing and cuddling her often and she'd just conform to it without saying a word. The nights are pretty normal as I'd fuck her and cuddle with her on same bed and fall asleep in her arms. She reduced talking much and talks only when she needs money. Once in a week, she's allowed to go out but would return before night just to find herself wrapped around my cock in my thighs. In a nutshell she became my bimbo whore. Sometimes I wonder why she wouldn't leave this house at once and forever instead of bearing this treatment, but that wouldn't be my concern anyway. I feel like thanking my dad daily for leaving me his property and his woman to be my whore. Just what every man would want, a personal Latina whore. I decided to drop out of college and take care of my dad's business which I came to realize through the will. All is going well with everything until a few months later when she blurted out the news that she's pregnant. I wouldn't know for sure if it's my seed inside her or my dad's or some other man's but that wouldn't be my first concern anyway.

_AUTHORS' NOTE: Hi, everyone! For those who haven't read the first two chapters, this chapter might not make sense. This series is written so that the chapters follow a chronological sequence, so that if story-line is important to you, you may find the previous two installments under NON- CONSENT/RELUCTANCE. In any case, we hope you find the sex hot and nasty. Enjoy!_ **From CHAPTER TWO:** Some hours later, her husband is shocked to find his wife tied up and his safe rifled. The investigating detectives, noting her bruises, the rope she'd been tied with, and the Professional manner in which the alarm system had been disabled, had no reason to suspect the "prim and proper" housewife. A few days later, Marilyn's husband decides to take her with him when he goes on a business trip to Vegas. While he is out at his seminar, Marilyn calls the pager number her masked rapist/lover had given her before making her getaway. In the sumptuous suite where they are staying, Marilyn's "safe" is "rifled" very thoroughly and professionally by the dildo-strapped professional thief. Butt-fucked to non-stop orgasms, the sexy redhead is waiting like a good little wifey when her spouse arrives. "Honey, do you smell that?", he asks, sniffing the air. "I can't put my finger on it, but WHEW!, it stinks!" Marilyn knows EXACTLY what it is: her mystery lover had plowed her ass so deep and so hard that she'd been unable to stop farting. "I'll call downstairs and get them to send a maid up" she says, moving toward the phone. With her back turned, her hubby can't see the secret smile curving her lips as she punches in the number: **CHAPTER THREE** It is NOT the number to the front desk; it is her new lover's pager number. Even as she punches in "1230" (the time her husband will leave the room yet again for a lunch meeting), she says "Yes; will you send a maid up to our suite, please? My husband is complaining of a foul odor.... One hour? That will be fine. Thank you." Marilyn and her husband are safely-ensconced in a luxury suite of one of Las Vegas' premier hotels, courtesy of Dave's company. Executives of his stature are allowed to bring their wives on business Trips, and Dave is more than eager to show- off his lovely and well-stacked "Mrs"; many of his colleagues (and some of THEIR wives) would love to spend some quality time in the "sack" with the sexy and voluptuous Marilyn, and he knows it. In the evening, they attend a lavish party, where they eat the finest food and drink expensive liquor and wine. Three hours or so into the gala, Marilyn complains of the on- set of a headache. Dave is sympathetic, and encourages her to go back their suite and lie down. "I'll let Mr. Jessup know that I'll be right back, and I'll walk you. Just a second" "No, no, honey. I can get there just fine. If you leave now, Willows will jump right in there and get his ear." She nods toward the slender and slightly- effete Stefan Willows, edging his way toward Dave's boss, Matt Jessup, who is holding court with a few of his cronies, drinking aged scotch and smoking expensive (and ILLEGAL) Cuban cigars. A worried frown creases Dave's brow; he and Willows are the front-runners for a cushy VP position, and one Can never underestimate the value of "getting the boss's ear", as Marilyn had put it. He knows that the right thing to do is to escort his wife back to their suite, but isn't solidifying his position in the company the right thing to do, as well? Marilyn will understand; she's a good corporate wife. "Yeah, you're right. You're a good kid, Mare. Thanks" "Sure. See you later" She makes her way through the party room and to the elevators. Marilyn enters their suite, and the door closes, the faint rustle of fabric betrays the presence of another in the room. Marilyn's question is delivered in a halting, excited whisper: "Is it you?" The return whisper is one Marilyn would recognize anywhere. "What the fuck do you think?" Soft female palms cup Marilyn's breasts from behind. They are heavy and hot and her nipples are achingly stiff. Her unseen partner thumbs the dark brown, rubbery nubbins gently, and the voluptuous wife and mother squirms and pants, already getting hot. Her part-time lover squeezes and fondles her melonous, bra-less jugs through her thin bodice even as a familiar stiffness stabs into the desperate housewife's soft, womanly behind. "Down on your knees, bitch. I'm gonna fuck you right here" Without a second of hesitation Marilyn goes to her knees, drawing the hem of her evening gown up over her mouth-watering bottom as she positions herself on hands and knees. When she went to the ladies' room earlier, she removed her panties, as she has been waiting for this encounter all day. The black-clad intruder drops to her knees behind Marilyn. Spreading her buttocks open with both hands, she places the fat tip of her cock-head against the entrance to the Sunday School teacher's anus. Marilyn bites her lips and tenses a bit, willing herself to relax and open herself to the invasion. The pressure is relentless as the woman behind her pushes her hips forward, then the housewife's sphincter yields and opens up. A second, more insistent flexing of the "attacker's" hips, and the thick rectum-wrecker plows into Marilyn's defenseless rectum. "AHHHHHHGAWWWWD!!" The breath rushes from Marilyn's throat. Her head snaps up and her gorgeous face twists in a grimace of pain as the monster slab of latex begins its slow, unrelenting journey into her entrails. The auburn-haired mother of Jack and Tim and Dave, Jr's asshole convulses uncontrollably around the solid rubber stalk. A sobbing gasp escapes Marilyn as the other woman's hips come to rest, mercifully, against the splayed cheeks of her pillowy ass. The redhead's fingers dart into the drooling slit between her own legs, as her mystery guest begins to fuck her harder. The other woman's rough butt-fucking is awakening Marilyn's "inner slut". She now loves the sensation of having her asshole filled to bursting. Her orgasm begins to build as her unknown "attacker" rams her butt harder still; her elegant, red-tipped fingers take her own clit between them and twist it in time to the steady strokes. The incredible pleasure is almost too much for the wife and mother. A resounding slap to her right butt-cheek sets Marilyn off, it feels as if monster fireworks are sizzling and crackling through the core of her being. The other woman's strong fingers tighten about the voluptuous beauty's hips and she continues her anal assault, even as Marilyn is wracked with secondary explosions. The ecstasy of the spending is almost too much for Marilyn to bear. Her female lover rocks faster and faster, deep and hard in her wide-open anal orifice. Marilyn gasps and moans, thrashes and tosses her head about as she is royally, thoroughly, inexorably bottom-fucked like the bitch in heat that she is. At last, the dildo-strapped intruder has had enough as well; the shaft of the shorter end of the double dong, tucked securely inside her own cunt, has rubbed and butted against the stem of her clit the whole time she is sodomizing Marilyn, and the constant friction serves to ignite an explosion of her own. The two women rest there for the next ten minutes or so, in the same position. Finally, Marilyn raises her tangled mass of auburn curls, and speaks. "I don't even know your name, and I've never seen your face. Is that how it's going to be?" A pause, and then: "For now. First I have to trust you. Then we'll see" Fiona puts herself back together, then slips out of the suite, leaving Marilyn still on fours, her asshole a gaping ruin. _Next chapter cumming soon._ There are only a couple of adult movie houses left in this area and none are what you'd call theaters in the traditional sense. The one that I frequent most is in fact in a building that once housed a KFC. Now it's a dirty nasty place but there is usually a fair amount of action going on at any time and the place is actually a sort of adult emporium. When you enter, the front section is a run of the mill book store with magazines, movies for sale or rent and various toys. Beyond a set of doors that you need to pay to enter is a small theater where movies are shown and there are about ten rows of ten theater style seats and an approximately 16' X 20' screen. Behind this section there are about fifteen to twenty booths, most with glory holes and there's usually a lot of traffic in this area. Since I like experiencing the feel of strange cock in my hand I enjoy going here because sitting in the theater area you can do just that and afterwards if you're so inclined you can go into one of the booths for a more personal time. I was last there several months ago during the summer months; I remember this because I was wearing my standard summer "going to the dirty movies clothes", a pair of baggy, loose fitting elastic band gym shorts, a tee shirt, socks and tennis shoes. These shorts allow for easy access and I can also pull them up and down easily. The only thing I have to be careful about is since I'm not wearing underwear and my cock leaks precum so copiously I need to have a handkerchief to wipe on so it doesn't leave a spot on my shorts. Sometimes at this I fail miserably and after a while there is a huge wet spot on the front. I arrived at the theater, paid my admission and went into the back and stood along side the wall a few minutes allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. When I was sure I wouldn't step on anyone I found a seat and settled in. Over the next hour or so four or five different guys came and sat next to me. They were young, old and some around my age and after playing with each others cocks for a few minutes, or once they'd be disappointed when I wouldn't go into the back with them, they'd leave. The reason I wouldn't go into the back wasn't because I didn't want to get sucked or even suck them, it was because I preferred to "get my monies" worth feeling cock before I did so. So I'd sit in the theater and play with and be played with as we watched the movie. Of course I don't need to tell you this but each of the cocks I played with was different. One was thick, about six inches and uncut, one was thin, cut and long, about eight inches, another was short, cut but very thick and so on. One of the guys who'd sat next to me liked in addition to playing my cock, liked to push my tee shirt up and rub my hairy chest and belly while I played with him. When the most recent guy I'd played with had left I sat alone watching the movie for only about five minutes before a young man sat down next to me. In the semi-darkness I could see him opening his jeans and then he sat there with his arms on the armrests of the seat. After a minute passed and he didn't make any further move I reached over and placed my arm on top of his, and when he didn't protest I moved my hand to his lap. I felt his hard cock brush my hand then wrapped my hand around it. When I took hold of his cock his hand moved to mine and we sat stroking each other and feeling each others balls in the dark. After a few minutes he must have felt real comfortable being with me because he laid his head on my shoulder as we masturbated each other. We sat like this for quite some time playing with each other and when someone sat on the other side of the young man he took his hand from my cock and leaned over and they talked a second. They only exchanged a few words then he leaned back against me and put his hand back on my cock. The other guy got up and I thought he'd move on but he passed in front of us and sat on my left. As soon as he sat he opened his jeans then reached over and placed his hand on my cock along with the other young mans. What the hell I thought and did the same to him, now having a cock in each hand as they both played with my cock and balls. We played with each other another ten minutes or so when the first young man leaned over, pointed the man on my left and said to me "he's my roommate and we want to know if you'd like to go someplace for some more fun alone?" Not that I haven't partaken from time to time but I'm not usually into getting with young guys. But on the other hand something intrigued me about these two so I agreed. I'm not sure what it was about these two that sparked my interest because the mannerisms of both were very effeminate and that usually is not something I find attractive or appealing, but there was a sense of sensuality about them that did attract me and must have been the reason I'd decided to accept their invitation. We all got up and left the theater together and standing in the parking lot we introduced ourselves. "My names Ron" said the first guy who'd sat next to me. "Bobby" the other guy said extending his hand, palm down and limp fingered. "Bill." "Pleased to meet you Bill" they said almost in unison. "Why don't we go to our apartment, it's only about a fifteen minute drive?" said Ron. And Bobby piped right in with "I can ride with Bill so he doesn't get lost. I mean should we get separated in traffic or something." "Ok, we can do this" I said to both and then said to Ron "I'll follow you." On the drive Bobby talked incessantly, but it stuck me more as something he did because he was nervous not because he was chatty. Also his nervousness didn't seem to be caused by anything that I should have been wary of, although until I know there's reason not to be I'm always wary going to someone else's "territory" like this. Instinct led me to believe he was just a shy kid who was nervous around new people. As we rode he told me "me and Ron we're both nineteen and have been friends since the sixth grade. Being gay, it was hard on us back then, really all through school because we were the only openly gay kids at the whole school. There were other gay boys and girls but they were smart enough to keep it a secret." "How'd they find out about you two?" Bobby sat quietly for several long moments then said "it was me. Stupidly I said something to someone who I thought was a friend and he freaked out, called us all kinds of names; sicko's, faggots, queers, perverts. He stopped being our friend and told everyone about it and then everyone else stopped being our friends too." I nodded in sympathy and said "guess you caught hell after that." He took it as a question and said "Yeah, the other kids really gave us a hard time; beat us up pretty often too. A lot of it had to do with Kenny, the kid I'd told; seemed like he was either always in on the beatings or provoking them. Funny thing is I ran into him a few weeks ago at that theater we just came from. He said it was his first time and he was just watching the movie, but when I saw him he was coming out of the back." "The back" Bobby talked about was the booth area with the glory holes. Now while it's entirely possible Kenny was there just watching the movies, I thought it was pretty doubtful that was all he was doing. "Sounds like he was hiding something too" I said to Bobby. Nodding he said "yeah, I thought so too." "It's been my experience that the one's hollering the loudest or beating the hardest are usually up to something similar as well or have something else to hide. They always seem to be the worst." Bobby nodded but I wasn't sure if it was in agreement or just that he'd heard me. "Because we were gay and everyone knew it we were each others only friends all through school. Well I guess that's not really true, we did have a few other friends but not many, and some of them were and some weren't gay too. Anyway Ron and me started fooling around with each other when we were in junior high and when we graduated last year we moved in together." "Plan on staying together?" "Yeah I think we do." "But sometimes you guys like someone new in your bed, is that it?" Nodding he said "yeah sometimes we go to one of the book stores or theaters and try to pick up someone to play with but we don't do it too often mostly because we're scared about picking up some nut. Most of the time we pick up guys around our age but sometimes, like today, we pick up an older man." "I always liked older men myself, even when I was your age." "Really?" "Uh huh, I'd play around with anyone really, any age but my preference was for older men, the older the better." "Cool." About this time we arrived at their apartment complex and Bobby directed me to a visitor's parking spot. Ron waited until we'd walked over then we went upstairs to their apartment and went in. It was a nice one bedroom apartment and surprisingly for two young men the place was amazingly clean and neat. Ron led us into the bedroom and then both he and Bobby began stripping immediately so I followed suit. I watched them and they me as we each undressed ourselves. These kids still had some things to learn I guess, among them the pleasure of undressing someone else as they undressed you. But once we were all naked we came together at the foot of the bed in a group hug kissing and letting our hands roam over each other. Ron was on my right and stood about 5'11", had brown eyes and light hair that also was more brown then blond and from the neck down he was completely hairless as he shaved his pubes. But the most remarkable thing about him was his thinness. It appeared that a stiff wind would blow him down the street much as it would leaves across your lawn. If he weighed 120 pounds soaking wet I'd have been surprised. His cock, which was already well north of horizontal, was shaved bare and cut, about six inches and he carried a set of high, tight balls that must have been full of cum. Ron was also a very passionate kisser and I love kissing someone who gets into it as much as he did. I view kissing as being as much of a sex act as anything you would do with your genitals. It's one of my most favorite things to do and can kiss someone who enjoys being kissed for literally an hour or more. I was going to enjoy kissing Ron. Bobby was a couple inches shorter then Ron and much heavier, weighing in at 200+ pounds. (When I'd first seen them together outside the theater in the parking lot the first thought in my mind was of Jack Sprat and his wife.) Bobby was dark haired and had a sparse tuft of hair on his chest right over his breastbone but was otherwise hairless as he also shaved his pubes. His cock was larger then mine and Ron's so I guess he was about six and a quarter inches, maybe six and a half inches long. He was also cut and very hard at this moment with it pointing upwards. While Ron was the superior kisser Bobby was no slouch either. Since I'm 51 years of age, 6', and very hairy we made quite a diverse threesome. Breaking from the kissing and hugging the boys led the way over to the bed and asked me to lie down. Once I had Ron crawled onto the bed and lay between my legs and licked and sucked my balls as Bobby lay next to me and we kissed some more. His hand rubbed over my chest, playing with my nipples and running his fingers through the hair as he pushed his tongue into my mouth and I sucked on it. My hand held Bobby's hard cock in its palm and I caressed it as best I could in this position. Ron's mouth had been sucking on my balls as Bobby and I kissed but now he was licking the length of my hard cock as it lay flat on my belly and once he reached the head he picked it up in his hand and began to go down on me, running his lips up and down my six inches. I discovered pretty quickly that he was as good a cocksucker as he was a kisser. He could take me into his mouth deeply too and it felt wonderful when his lips pressed against my pubes. When he bobbed his head his lips would slide from the base all the way up and over the head, closing together, pursed at the crown of my cock before sliding all the way back down again. As his roommate sucked me I tugged gently on Bobby's cock and said to him "I want to suck you while Ron goes down on me, so get up here and feed it to me." He practically scrambled onto his knees and knelt crossways over my head and face. I held his cock in my hand and ran my tongue around the head of his cock before taking it into my mouth. Kneeling as he was, crossways over me, allowed Bobby to set his own pace as he fucked my mouth, and that's exactly what he did, fucked my mouth; he humped his hips sawing his cock between my lips. On each outstroke he'd bring his cock all the way out until my lips was just at the ridge at the base of his cock head. My tongue would swirl around the head before pressing against his shaft as Bobby pushed it back in. My right hand was between his legs and up on his ass, feeling along the crack and over the twin globes occasionally reaching down to hold his balls, which like Ron's were high and tight. Bobby continued to fuck my mouth as I felt his ass and soon his pace quickened and his breathing changed. I was a little surprised that he was already ready to cum but that's young men for you. I let him continue to pump his tasty cock in and out, using my mouth as a fuck hole as Ron sucked mine at a slower more leisurely pace. In my mind's eye I could picture him with my cock in his mouth watching Bobby kneel over me fucking my face as his passion built. I could feel Bobby's ass clench on each down stroke as he neared his orgasm. Suddenly Bobby got up onto his knees, pulling his cock from my mouth with an audible pop and then quickly took it in his hand as he began to jerk on it. After only one or two quick strokes he began to shoot, his first spurt landing on my cheek, his second on my chin, the rest dribbling out onto my arm which lay between his legs on the bed below him. Once he was done shooting I pulled him closer to me and took his now soft cock into my mouth. I didn't suck on it, thinking it'd be sensitive, but did run my tongue around his cock cleaning him, licking up his cum and precum. He let me do this for less then a minute when he pulled his cock from my mouth again then lay back on the bed leaning against the headboard. Using the edge of the sheet I wiped my face and arm then rose up onto my elbows and said to Ron "why don't you stop sucking now and let me suck you awhile." We traded positions and when I'd gotten down and lay between his legs I held his cock in my hand and could feel how hard he was, how when I pulled his cock towards me from where it lay on his belly it pulled back against me. I moved up on the bed and holding his cock straight up from his groin lowered my mouth onto it. I swallowed it all in one gulp the first time and when I felt the head against the back of my throat I began to move my lips up and down on his cock as Bobby leaned over and kissed Ron. After about a minute or minute and a half I took my mouth from his cock and held it pointing straight up as I lowered my mouth to his balls. His sack was tight and firm and I licked it with the flat of my tongue before slowly sliding my tongue from the lowest point on his sack up and over it then onto his shaft all the way to the head then took him in my mouth all at once again. When I'd gone back to sucking Ron, Bobby slipped off the bed and moved behind me. When I felt him getting back onto the bed at the foot I spread my legs for him and then felt his hands on my cheeks pushing them apart. Next I felt his lips and tongue kissing and licking along the length of my ass crack, eventually he zeroed in on my asshole drilling his tongue into me after licking it thoroughly. As Bobby ate my ass I sucked Ron's cock for about another five minutes until he began to hump his hips, pistoning his cock in and out of my mouth seven or eight times until he shot his load into it. Ron grunted as he came and I held his cum, except for the first spurt which I swallowed, in my mouth until he was done. Afterwards I sat up, turned around and pulled Bobby to me then kissed him sharing his lover's cum with him, pushing our tongues into each others mouth. When we were done kissing I lay back on the bed and Bobby rolled over to the other side of Ron, scooted up and lay back too. We took about a ten minute break and talked about nothing really, just chatted. When we'd recovered I wanted to suck both boys again, so I had them stand facing each other as I knelt and in turn sucked each of them hard again. Back and forth I moved my mouth, from cock to cock. I'd suck Ron for a minute then Bobby, then back to Ron and as I sucked one of them, my hand would stroke the other, my thumb sometimes rubbing over and around the head. As I sucked them they stood over me kissing, their hands on each others arms. After about seven or eight minutes of this Ron asked me "can I fuck you, I really want to put my dick in your ass?" I nodded and climbed up onto the bed. Staying on my knees I lay across some pillows I'd piled up. While Ron lubed up my ass and put on a condom I asked Bobby "how about sitting on the bed in front of me so I can suck you again as Ron fucks me." As I played with, licked and sucked on Bobby's cock Ron played with my ass for several minutes working his fingers into me until I told him "go ahead and put it in now." He took his time entering me and once he'd gotten into me and his hips were resting against my ass he set up a steady rhythm fucking me. His cock felt really good in my ass, having just the right length and girth for me. As Ron rode me I continued to go down on Bobby's cock and sucked him in rhythm to Ron's in and out movements. I was in heaven because you see this is my absolute favorite act, giving head as I'm being fucked. Ron had his hands on my hips as he rocked his back and forth pushing his cock into me. After he'd fucked me for about six or seven minutes he picked up his pace, really slamming into me now then suddenly he shot his load. I could feel his cock swell in my ass with each spurt. Spent he pulled out of me and as he sat on the edge of the bed he pulled the full condom from his shriveled cock and tossed it into the waste basket by the bed. Remaining as I was, on my knees lying on the pillows I took my mouth from Bobby's cock and asked "how about you, you want to fuck me now too?" Enthusiastically he said "yes" and practically leapt from the bed and put on a condom. Getting behind me he was able to enter me easily as he was aided by his lover having just pulled his cock from my ass and it was still open and relaxed and still well lubed. After the head I'd given him Bobby didn't last long and fucked me for only about three minutes when he came. Now that they'd both fucked me and gotten off they sat back on the bed with their soft dicks lying between their legs as I knelt up and played with my still hard one. As I pulled on my dick I asked them "which one of you wants this in their ass and which one of you wants the load in their mouth?" After the boys playfully bickered about it they decided that Bobby would take my load. I repositioned the pillows so they lay across the bed rather then long ways. Then I said to Ron "go ahead and get like I was on top of those pillows with your knees right here" indicating a spot very near the edge of the mattress. To Bobby I said "I need you to get me a condom." Getting behind Ron I opened the tube of lube and smeared a liberal amount of lube onto the outside of his asshole. As I began to work on opening Ron's asshole some I said to Bobby, making it more an order then a request "suck my cock until I'm ready for you to put the condom on me." Bobby came around and knelt on the floor as I stood sideways by the edge of the bed. He picked up my still semi hard cock and sucked it into his mouth and brought me to full hardness very quickly. As Bobby continued to suck me I ran my fingertip over Ron's asshole then pushed it inside him. Over the next three or four minutes I added three more fingers until I had all but my thumb in his hole, and that too would have fit easily. Ron's asshole had an amazing amount of elasticity; it stretched so wide, so easily it was obvious to me he'd had some pretty large cocks or toys in his asshole on a regular basis. Since Bobby wasn't much more then average sized I guessed it was large toys he liked to use on his ass. Glancing down at him I said to Bobby "go ahead and put the condom on me now." He tore open the foil package he had laid on the floor beside his knee and placed the condom against the head of my cock, then rolled it down my shaft. When he had gotten it on me I pulled my hand from Ron's ass and wiped it on a towel lying by the footboard. Taking my cock in hand I pressed the head into Ron's asshole and began to fuck him. The head slipped by his anal ring very easily and he pressed back against me forcing my cock in to the hilt by his movement. As I held onto his hips and fucked him Ron moaned and said "fuck it, fuck my asshole man, I love your cock in my ass. Fuck me hard man pound my fucking asshole." Fucking Ron's clenching ass I maintained a fairly fast but steady pace and what I did instead of "pounding" into him was vary how deep I'd go. After fucking him for three or four minutes like this we were both getting pretty close to cumming so I picked up my pace and then did what he'd earlier asked; thrust into him hard and fast. In about another two minutes I was ready to cum and holding out to the last possible moment I continued to slam into Ron's asshole. Unable to wait any longer I pulled out of his ass and tore the condom off then pushed my cock into Bobby's waiting mouth and came as he sealed his lips around the end of my cock. I shot three good spurts into his mouth and then fucked my softening cock in and out a couple times before pulling out. Bobby quickly got up from the floor and lay facedown on the bed next to Ron, who'd rolled over onto his back as he jerked off, and as he and I had done earlier he shared my cum with his roommate in a kiss. As they kissed Ron's cock shot another load, the first spurt squirting up into the air and the rest of his cum running out of the head over his fingers. We then took another break to recuperate our energies, lying on the bed talking and touching each other. Earlier when Ron had first gotten the condoms and lube from the bedside table drawer I noticed a dildo and vibrator in there. I said to Ron and Bobby "you guys get on the bed in a 69 with Bobby on top." They got into position and while they sucked each other into hardness yet again I lubed Bobby's ass before using the vibrator on him. Teasing his anal opening with the tip, pushing it slightly in before taking it out it didn't take long before he took the full length of the vibrator into his ass, so I traded it for the larger dildo after putting a condom on it. The dildo slid into his ass easily and I fucked him as the boys 69'd. I stood behind Bobby watching his cock slide in and out of Ron's mouth as I sawed the dildo in and out his asshole. In less then five minutes Bobby came with a shudder and once I pulled the dildo from his ass he flopped over onto his side. With his mouth full of Bobby's cum I replaced Bobby in the 69, taking Ron's cock into my mouth as he took my newly hard member back into his. Bobby took the dildo I'd just fucked him with and after replacing the condom on it pushed it into my still lubed and relaxed asshole. He returned the favor of fucking my ass with the toy as I fucked his lover's mouth and sucked his cock. After a couple of minutes Ron came in my mouth as I continued to fuck his face and Bobby fucked my ass. I lasted another two or three minutes before I shot my load into Ron's sucking mouth and afterwards I rolled over onto the bed spent and exhausted. Bobby got back on the bed and we all lay in a heap together on the bed. About fifteen, twenty minutes later, we all went into their bathroom and showered together. It was crowded in there but intimate. Once we were done with our shower I began to dress as Ron and Bobby went back and lay on the bed still naked. Before I left I asked them "would you guys like to get together again sometime?" "Fucking A" Ron said. Bobby chimed in with a drowsy "anytime." Smiling I said "great, I look forward to it" then we exchanged contact numbers. Since then we've gotten together twice more and both were as good as the first time. Let me tell you, pushing your cock into Bobby's ass is like pushing into warm butter with just a little resistance before it gives way. And I also love the way both boys kiss, suck and fuck too. As I said earlier I'm usually not attracted to younger guys such as these, but with them I had experienced, and hopefully gave them, a lot of pleasure. So maybe there's something to be said for an older guy like me, hooking up with young guys like that more often. What do you think?

Julie was not the best looking girl at work, but she had a raw sex appeal. I had asked her out a couple of times. However, she would never say yes. We just settled in as work friends. It was about 2 years after she started that I heard rumors that she was into bondage. After that I just knew I had to get know her better. A little checking turned up she was seen at a local water hole that treated toward B&D types. I had never been in the place. Nevertheless, I knew this might be the opening I was looking for. I started going to the bar on the nights she talked about going clubbing. On my third time there she showed up. When she took her coat off I knew that I had to find away to hook up with her. She was dressed in a short red leather skirt with a matching tank top. Her boots were black with 3-inch heels. She looked damn good and when she got closer you could just see under the tank top she had on nipple clips. For the next hour I stayed just out of sight and watch and listened. Than I left before being spotted. Bondage was something I had never been able to explore much with any of my girlfriends. It was plain she was more into I had ever been so some planing was called for. As it turned out, she opened the door for me only a couple days later. Ever since I had first heard the rumors, I had been going out of my way to see and talk her up at work. One day her car was in the shop and she needed a ride home from work. I had never been to her home but I knew there was woodworking store close by. I could use it as cover for offering a ride home. I told her I was going her direction so it was not a problem. When I dropped her off she asked if wanted to come in for a bit. Once inside she asked if I wanted a beer and headed off to the kitchen. While she was gone I looked the place over. The place did not have any set theme just average middle class stuff. Except over in the corner there was a single wooden saw horse. It was the fact that there was only one that drew my attention. The top bar was a 2 X 6 on end with a rounded edge. The boards were sanded very smooth and had been varnished. On the underside of the top bar were eyebolts. When she came back she caught me look at horse and started to blush. I just smiled and took the beer. Before she could say anything I asked if she wanted to grab supper with me since I was going to eat out anyway. I offered to come back for her after I ran to the store. She said if I would wait 5 min. she would ride along and we could just have Mexican at a place near the store. When we got to the wood worker store she went in with me and looked around. She seemed interested in the large hardware section. At the restaurant she questioned me on what kind of stuff I build, was I any good? This was not the kind of dinner conversation I was expecting. Seeing an another opening I asked if she wanted to come over Saturday for dinner and see my house and workshop. She said yes and we set a time. The rest of the meal was just small talk. The rest of the week was all assholes and elbows getting the house clean. Nothing like a hot date to make a single guy clean house. Doing the whole cleaning frenzy the image of what she must look like naked straddling the horse filled my mind. Julie is 5’11” about 170 lbs. built the way girls use to be. Wide hips with a matching chest. Her shoulder length auburn hair framed a soft oval face with green eyes. Just think Maureen O’Hare inQuiet Man orThe Parent Trap. The thought of her bound with her pussy lips split by the rail of the horse made the cleaning go by very quickly. We had agreed to make this a causal dinner date. So no candle light and soft music to woe this fair lady. I was going have find other avenues to slip the romance in. Julie was right on time and dress in jeans and sweater with just a hint of makeup. The look was good on her. Dinner was just about done so I turned her loose on the stereo to pick some music. Her pick was a folk CD with an Irish theme. Dinner was much like the restaurant. She seem to be the one asking all the questions and me answering. She asked about the house. How much of the work I had done myself? After we had eaten I showed off the house and workshop. The grand tour ended with the rear deck and Jacuzzi hut. Now if she would only show half as much interest in me as she had showed in the house and furniture I had made. As she ran her hand through the Jacuzzi I regretted not telling her to bring swimwear. “ I wish I had asked you to bring a suit this would have been a good night for a soak. “Well if you can remain the gentleman I don’t see that as a problem.” With that she striped to her underwear and climbed in. Thing were differently looking up. We made some more small talk and than she start to ask a question and stopped. She started to blush and started to ask her question again. “Brian do you ever build things for other people?” I said yes, I had done some custom work. If I asked you to make something for me, would you keep it just between you and me? What do you know about bondage? I want something designed and built that is very personal. Well I know what you had in the corner of you apt. Is it for sole play or with friends? At that her face went about two shades redder but than she smiled. Well it looks like I have the right man for the job than. The horse is for sole play. I love it but I want more. I don’t have a lot of money and MORE costs money. Will you help me? Now how many offers does a guy get like this? Half-naked girl in a Jacuzzi wants a sex machine built to order. “What did you have in mind?” “Well I was thinking, ---- never mind” She was turning very red and started to get up. I slide over and pulled her back down and give her my most winning smile. Please don’t go. Anything we say does not leave this house. Besides the cats out now and it’s in polite to eat and run. I slide back to my side so she didn’t feel pressured. She sat back down and looked at me for a long while. “Brian I like you as a friend and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. If we do this it’s only between us and sex is not involved.” “ OK I can live with that, but lets be on the same page to start with. I found you very attractive before tonight and want to know you even better. If you will keep an open mind and let things go where they may I’m game. These seem to be the right words because she slides my way and said “ I can’t believe I’m doing this.” **Part Two** I put an end to the subject for the evening and we set up second dinner date next weekend to talk about the project. We just relaxed in the tub and we ended the evening on the sofa like a couple of teenagers. When Saturday came around we sat down with pizzas and started to flesh out what she wanted. She had some ideas from self-bondage stories she had read. She was long on ideas but did not have a real plan. I told her I would work up some plans and than we would go from there. Julie wanted to know what this was going to cost. I told her I would work at cost as long as we were honesty with one and other. The next couple weeks went very quickly. We had dinner a couple times, but I never let her in the workshop. After three weeks I told her I had a prototype almost ready. We set the coming weekend for a trial fitting of the Machine. I told her to be at my house at 8 on Friday and to bring a bag for the weekend. Friday night she was right on time. We had a late dinner and decided to wait until tomorrow morning to begin. I don’t think ether of us slept that night. I heard her get up and sneak down stairs to the workshop about 3 o’clock. It did not do her any good because I had added a lock to the door. She was asleep in her room when I brought her breakfast in bed. After we ate I told her she had 30 minuets to shower and than we would start. When I heard her returning from the bathroom, I was ready to catch her before she could get dressed. Julie I have a present for you. I want you to put these on and come down to the workshop. I waited as she opened the box and looked at her gifts. Now Julie you have to trust me and remember this is for you. Put these on and meet me in the workshop. When she walked into the workshop I almost died. Her 42-D breasts were framed perfectly by the open front bra. The matching open crotch panties did as much for her pussy When she reached me, I told her to hold out her hands and I attached waistbands and hooked them. I could see her pussy was already getting damp as I pulled the cover off her new toy. The machine was in the shape of an upside down T. At the bottom was a track with footpads that rolled. In the center was an adjustable pole for mounting toys. At the top was a spreader bar for the hands. Before she could change her mind, I had her step on to the platform. Than her feet were attached to the footpads and her hands to the hand bar. Once she was in place, I had her pull her legs together. This released the stops on the pads. Now when she let her legs spread the pads would roll along the track. Once we had found how far she could spread, stops were put on the track as a safety. Than the hand bar was raised so she was fully stretched out. Once this was done she pulled herself back up and I relocked the pads. With her legs about 18” apart the toy- mounting pole was attached and a small 7” dildo added. She was so wet by now no lubricant was needed when the pole was raised. The height of the pole was set so the only the first inch of the dildo was in her. “ Ok Julie release and lower your self slowly. Once she was all the way down, she was still not fully spread. So I placed a second set of stops on the tracks. Once we had the limits set, I let her enjoy herself for a couple minutes. The basic design was her idea but I had added several things with out telling her. Ok now the fun begins. Time to work on the options. “What options?” Don’t worry I added a few ideas of my own. First off, let move you into something more your size. Your legs look good stretched out so why not you pussy. So out with the small and in with the new. The new dildo was about 2” round and 10” long. Once she was firmly sited the second set of stops were removed. Once her arms got tired, her weight forced the entire dildo into to her. By now she was really started to get into it. “O” almost forgot. I than reached down and turned the dildo on. She damn near launched herself clear off the machine. She started to work her self up and down on the dildo until she had her first orgasm. She could barely raise herself off the dildo as the vibrating drove her toward a second orgasm. The smell of fresh pussy juice was almost over powering. After less than a minute her arms got tired and her weight force her back down again. This time she started to come almost right away. When the orgasm started, she did not have the strength to pull herself up. She could only move up about a 1 or 2 before falling back. You could see her belly and thigh muscle flexing, as she was force to have multiple orgasms. Final she pleaded for me to turn it off. She was like a rag doll and I had to lift her down from the machine. I carried her to the hot tub and put her in. When I slipped in with her, she was on me in a second. She had her tongue down my throat and her hand on my penis. The next two hours were the hottest sex I had ever had. To be continued One night after a dinner out you tell me that we are going to take a drive. I give you a negative look and you say to me, "it is not your choice." I am impressed by your assertiveness and I feel myself get turned on. At the next traffic light I lean over to you and say in your ear, "I want you". You have no response and when the light turns green you just drive. We continue for a while and suddenly you pull into a secluded church parking lot. You get out of the truck and order me to do the same. I start to say something and you tell me to, "shut up and just stand there." Your tone is stern and I decide to listen. You take off your jacket and forgetting your instructions, I start to ask, "what are we going to do?" You grab my hair and you pull my head backwards. You look very stern and you tell me. "can't you shut the fuck up? I just want to you to listen and do exactly what I say. No more questions, no more comments. I know you want me and I know how you want it, so just shut up and do what I say!" I am breathing hard and I can feel myself getting wet. You are so strong and your toughness is amazing. As you let my hair go you lightly kiss me on the lips and your free hand grabs my breast. Your grip is firm and my nipples respond to your touch. You pull back and start to take off your belt. As you stand with your belt in your hand you tell me to take off my clothes. I look around at the openness of the parking lot and hesitate. My modesty overwhelms me and I am frozen with fear. You quickly react and I feel the sharp smack of your belt on my thigh and it hurts. I realize the reality of my situation and I slowly start to do what you say. I first kick off my sandals. I then slowly raise my tank top over my head and I am totally grateful that I wore a fancy bra. Then I remove my pants to reveal I have no underwear and you are pleased when you see my completely hairless cunt. My bra fastens in the front and when I unhook it my breasts spring out. When the air hits my nipples they get very hard. You are watching quietly and I am feeling very uncomfortable. I love the feeling of you enjoying my nakedness but I am also very aware of how vulnerable I am. I unconsciously start to cover myself with my arms and you quietly ask me, "were you given permission to cover your breasts?" I tell you, "no," and I know that I have to be punished for that. You tell me to turn around and lean my stomach against the front of the truck. I do this and you lean over me as your hands rub my ass cheeks. You whisper in my ear, "this will hurt so hold on." I am scared and even before the pain I start to tear. I hate the pain but I need to give into it. I trust you and I know that I need to learn not to think for myself when you are in charge. You pull yourself back and I can hear the belt as it sails through air. The pain as it strikes my skin is intense. You continue to strike me, maybe two maybe twenty hits. I have no idea. The pain all melts into one moment and even against my best efforts to hold back I found myself crying and screaming out in pain. Finally the pain stops and you are over me again. You are rubbing my welts and I can tell you are examining your handy work. My skin is very pale and the redness of your welts are a stark contrast to my whiteness. As you rub my ass I can feel your cock against my thigh. You are hard as a rock. You lean back again and tell me to stand up. I do so and when I turn around you are unbuttoning your jeans. Your pants hit the ground and you tell me to suck you. I get on my knees and the ground is cold and rough and I know I am going to skin my knees. I take your penis in my mouth and I wrap my hand around the base. With my free hand I grab your balls and I squeeze them just enough. My lips are squeezing your cock hard and I am taking as much of you as I can in my mouth. Your cock is hitting the back of my throat and I relax the muscles and let you slide down deeper. I am holding back the gags as I take you in and tears are streaming down my face. I know you are close to orgasm and I squeeze harder and suck faster. You start to moan and when you cum you explode into my mouth. I swallow your cum and I look up, waiting for you. You like the way I look up at you, my act of submission is getting you almost hard again. You place your hand under my chin and you lightly stand me up. You kiss me hard and your hand moves to my cunt. You move your fingers in and out and I am soaking wet. You start to finger my clit and it is pure ecstasy. You hear my breathing change and you know I am about to climax. You push me back and tell me to lean against the truck. You tell me to raise my leg and finger my own clit so that you can watch me cum. I do this, and although I feel a little exposed, I am overwhelmed by the excitement of you watching me. I start to finger myself and I am so close to orgasm that I have to slow down so that it lasts at least a few minutes. You are watching me and you are rubbing your cock, which is hard again. I am so close and you resist telling me to finish, wanting to watch me a little longer. I am so aroused as you watch me and i give you that look, imploring you with my eyes to let me cum. You amuse yourself a little bit more, making me wait. But you know i can't hold on much longer and you tell me to cum. I respond quickly and I masturbate myself to an intense orgasm that feels wonderful. I am still shaking and I lean against the truck barely able to stand, just waiting for your next move. You watch me for a second, waiting for me to calm down and then you grab my arm, turn me around and throw me against the truck. You immediately slam your cock into my cunt and start to fuck me hard. You are fucking me so deep that I can feel the head hit the top of my vagina. It hurts and the pain is great. Right as I am about to cum again you pull out. I gasp as I feel you leave me and moans accidentally escape me. You lean over me and ask me, "beg me to fuck you in the ass." I whisper, "please fuck me in the ass," and you grab my hair and yell, "beg harder!" I want you inside me so badly that I am screaming as loud as I can, "fuck me in the ass! Please, please my ass, my ass!" When I can barely stand it you slam into my ass and I scream out in intense pain and pleasure. You continue to fuck me and I am screaming. My ass feels so tight and my pleasure of feeling you there is extremely exciting to you and we are both beginning to orgasm once again. As I climax I am almost crying with release. You love owning my ass like this and you start to cum with a force. I can feel the pulses of orgasm inside me as you pump cum in my ass. You stay there for a moment, wanting me to take all your cum and you just hold me. I feel so safe in your arms and all I want to do is lie there against the truck and not let the moment end, but you tell me get dressed and I do so. As we get in the truck and we ride off I think to myself... you are so cool. _Reader-Before reading, be aware this story is unique._ * * * * * I parked my Jetta into a classy hotel and registered with the clerk. Finally, I got my key and ran down the hall to catch the elevator. "What floor?" I heard a familiar voice asked. "3." I noticed the stranger already had pushed it. Turning around in curiosity, I saw the body that belonged to the voice. It was Julia Stiles. Julia was aware that I was glancing at her, so she said, "Hi" she smiled, 10\. Her smile I'm Julia," she laughed. 9\. Her laugh. "But you already knew that." GOD, she's lovely. 8\. Julia is HOT "I'm Bob." I extended my hand and she shook it. I can't believe that I'm in the elevator with a celebrity 7\. She's famous superstar Julia Stiles. I LOVE her films. 6\. I've seen all her films "Well, here's our floor." the star told me. I held the door for her, and Julia thanked me. 5\. She polite. I followed her out of the elevator and we walked down the hall together. "Well, Bob. It was really nice to meet you. Some celebs are reluctant to meet their fans, but I LOVE IT! They think their better then everyone else, but not me. I'm just a girl, same as every other girl." 4\. She's down to earth. I opened her door for her, and she walked inside. "Would you like to come in?" "I'm not so sure about that. "Oh, come on. I'm just asking you as a "normal person," remember? I just want to talked with you. "OK." MAN, she is beautiful. 3\. Did I mention Julia Stiles is beautiful I walked into her room, and as the star shut the door, she pinned me to the wall, kissing me with heated passion. I was stunned, but I wasn't going to stop this. NO WAY! I put my arms around her waist. The superbabe put her tongue in my mouth and hr hands to my crotch. Then, in an instant our kiss broke. "I WANT YOU." she commanded. I slowly whipped my shirt off and pulled my Jeans and underwear to the floor. When naked, I strutted to the star and grabbed the straps of her black silky dress and I yanked it off. "FUCK ME, NOW." The celebrity ordered. I guided my engorged dick to her cunt and shoved it in. "OH, YEAH. CUM INSIDE ME." Her hips were thumping me with tremendous ferocity. "YEES. I LOOVEE IT." Julia howled. Her large jugs were giggling like madness. I put both my hands on her boobs and felt her soft naked flesh beneath my palm. "OH, I'M CUMMING." she screamed as her massive orgasm rocked through her cunt on my cock. I, too, shot my hot wad of sticky white semen into her wet tunnel. "AHHHH." we both said at the exact same moment. Just then, someone knocked on her door. "Who is it?" "Me." It sounded like her sister from "10 Things I Hate About You." The tall young woman walked to the door and opened it. It WAS her sis from that movie. "Come in." The beautiful teenager glided into her room and grabbed Julia's head. In a swift second, she kissed the starlet from many romantic-comedies. What the hell? I wondered. "Bob. I have a present for you." 2\. Julia is bi-sexual AND...The #1 reason I LOVE Julia, 1\. I had sex with her.

Greg Ford drove past the state line entering Montana thinking that this trip was more needed than any other trip he took before. It was not the most dangerous, but the trip offered him the most reward when it came to his mental health since breaking up with his girlfriend. Dealing with his parents was an easy thing as they only cared about his grades in college. His ex-girlfriend Rachel only wanted to make sure she was with him because of the wealth attached to him by his parents. Fishing offered a getaway from life that nothing else could give. While away he felt not attached to a college classroom or the stress of his parents nagging him. It still required skill and Greg felt that even this required mental energy he currently did not have. The only thing that he wanted to do now was to enjoy the sights of being far removed from the world and to take pictures of his time away. It was something that he did as a hobby like fishing, but nothing serious like his wild excursions into the wilderness to fish. This trip was a guided one that offered five days of brutal backpacking to see sights very few people get to see. Greg knew it was just what he wanted as it offered a different area of the wilderness he never saw before. The more he drove into the northern part of Montana the more civilization seemed to dwindle away. Less and less cars and trucks and more and more scenery came into view. The daylight was fading away as he knew it was just a little more than hour away. The sense of losing yourself to the surroundings came to him as did a smile knowing that his getaway was about to happen. The meeting spot for the group was a clearing in a field across from an old storage building. Greg looked it up on a satellite view before he left, and it was just out of town and close to the mountain that they would be hiking on. It was not a strenuous mountain hike, but it did involve some inclines and some rough patches of stone. It was now just a matter of finding the turnoff for the town exit. Wondering why the lights in his Jeep began to dim came to him and adjusting the switch again only caused them to flicker into nothing. The headlights went out next and he could see that his Jeep was losing power. The engine was running strong, but the power was dropping. He was just shy of the town exit he needed to get off at and he was still in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night. Russ's Gas Station had its lights still on and Greg figured it was the perfect spot to head into and check out what was wrong with his Jeep. In his mind he knew it was the battery or the alternator. He wanted to scream that of all things to happen, his Jeep breaking down was the worst. It was a brand new Jeep too with less than ten thousand miles on it and problems seemed to follow it as this was just another thing to go wrong with it. Pulling into the gas station, he could tell that he was far from civilization and from anything modern. The gas pumps looked like they were forty or fifty years old and everything about the store inside the gas station screamed old. The only positive part of the place was that it was open. Greg popped the hood and saw that his battery was fried. He had a bit of experience with fixing cars and he just knew that the battery was what gave out and not anything else. It was new and he figured it was an easy fix; the only problem was the location and time. He knew that time was a pressing issue as the tour guide said they would leave at a certain time with or without you. The only thing to do now was to see if they had a battery in the store or if the person in there knew of a place to get a battery. The guide was leaving at seven in the morning, so timing was everything. The pressure of making it happen was everything. The worst thing would be to leave his Jeep here and catch a ride to the meeting spot. He opened the door to see a simple gas station store filled with just food and beer. It didn't look too outdated and the place was clean inside from what he could see. There was nobody in the store, but he knew it was almost midnight too. He heard footsteps come out of the backroom and a female-ish voice call out, "Can I help you?" Her accent was not that strong, and she looked quite plain in her appearance even though her voice sounded a bit off. He figured she had to be in her mid- twenties. She had short straight brown hair that almost touched her shoulders and wore a baseball hat that probably hid her bangs. Her white polo shirt had the name Jessie on the top right corner. Her face was thin just like her body, although her shirt pushed out somewhat with what he thought were medium sized breasts. Her jeans were ripped, but it looked like she bought them that way. "Having some car trouble. Do you sell batteries here? Jeep broke down and I think it might be the battery...I hope it's just the battery." "Nope. You need to go to Jack's auto repair for that. He opens at ten. I can call you a tow, but that might take a while," she replied with a nonchalant tone of not caring. "Shit. I need to get to Fisher. Do you know if there is someone that could take me?" Greg asked, figuring if he left his car here, he could still make it to the meeting spot. It was a little over an hour away and leaving his car here wouldn't be the worst thing as it could be towed to the garage and he could pay the storage fees. "No. Taxi service doesn't cover here. You can wait for the tow though. He might be able to take you." "Shit. Fine, okay...let's do that. Can you call that tow for me please?" Greg asked giving in to leaving his Jeep at a place he did not know hoping to catch a ride. Getting back to his Jeep after was a different problem to tackle after too. "Sure," she said picking up her phone behind the register. "Hey, Jackie. Do you know if Pete is picking up tonight? Got some guy here needing a tow. Says he needs a ride too...Ohhh. I will tell him," she said while giving him the bothering me stare. She hung up the phone and her face showed remorse now. "You're going to have to wait until the morning. Tow won't come until about nine." "Shit," Greg said with a sigh in his tone knowing that he was going to miss his meeting and miss the guide. He then looked at her figuring she could take him. He had money in his wallet for expenses and a credit card that was linked to his parent's account that was almost endless. He thought maybe offering her money for a ride would do it and then pay her to get his Jeep towed. Maybe even get her to pick him up after. "Hey look, I got a problem. Maybe you can help. I need to be in Fisher at seven and was thinking you could take me there. I mean, I would pay you and all. I just need to get there," he said, thinking that it would be worth it as this was the last guide to go out and finding another one would be almost impossible at this stage. She tilted her head like she was contemplating it. "You going on one of those fishing guides?" The more she talked the more he was trying to pick out the accent or the tone as it sounded off to him. With the way he knew she was his only hope of making the trip, he then replied hoping to sound like a non-threat and not some crazy man looking to kill or have his way with her. "Just hiking. It's a five day trip leaving from Fisher. Backpacking and photography hike." "Mmmm, you book one of those expensive trips?" she asked as he was thinking she was going to maybe gouge her demand of him. "Not that expensive. It's just a scenic trip and all. No hunting allowed and some fishing if there is time...but I didn't bring any gear with me." "Look, I can't help you. I get off in fifteen minutes and I just want to head home. The best I can do it give you a lift into town, but it's the opposite direction as Fisher. You can try to get someone there, but I don't think you will at this time. Be lucky to even get the police out at this time." "Please. I will pay. I can give you money." "You really want to go on this hike?" she asked, giving him a strange look to repose his pleading. "Yes. You wouldn't understand. I mean you live out here and get to see everything," he answered back feeling defeated and feeling the frustration build up in him. "Oh please. This town sucks and it's not worth a damn." Her face was still showing disgust and no regard for the town or his problem. Feeling the frustration, Greg knew that she could help him too. "Look, I can give you money. I just need a lift into Fisher is all. I got like a hundred dollars." She put her hands and then her elbows on the counter and sat on the stool looking at him with a solemn face. "I can't give you a lift to Fisher until morning. That means you have to stay the night at my place. I don't let men stay the night. So, you're out of luck." Greg could feel the compromise happening and could see a possible light at the end of his tunnel for his dilemma. "I won't do anything. I mean, I can stay outside if you want...I got a tent. Just take me to your place and I can set up outside and then you can take me into Fisher in the morning. I can give you two hundred too." "You're like some lost freaking puppy, I swear. You really gonna give me two hundred to camp out at my place and then have me drive you to Fisher so you can go on your hike? Gonna rain tonight too. Be camping in the mud at my place too." Her face was showing signs that she might give in. Money was a tool and nothing more. He was never one to spend it on stupid things even though his parents had enough money to spoil him rotten. Growing up with old money, his parents were keen on making sure they taught him about the downfalls of spending and how the job of people with old money is to make sure they keep it. This time he felt like the money he had was going to get him out of trouble and it was for a good cause. Camping outside was no big deal but dealing with mud was going to complicate the matter and paying not to deal with it was worth it too. "Here's the deal. You let me crash at your place and then drive me into Fisher and I will give you two hundred. You make sure my Jeep gets fixed and pick me up on Saturday and I will throw in another five hundred," Greg offered as he reached for his wallet to make sure she knew he was not bullshitting her. "Look, I got something to do tonight and you camping outside is all I can do." "Fine, I don't care. I just need a ride tomorrow and my Jeep fixed," he uttered again, knowing he was desperate and if dealing with the mud was what he had to do, then so be it. "Okay. But if you fucking try something, I will shoot you and take your money," she snarled back. "Nothing I swear...shit I will sleep on the floor," he said with his hands up trying to seem non-threatening. She reached for the keys and then flipped the light switch shutting off the interior light. She then looked over at him. "Two hundred now and I will get your Jeep fixed and pick you up Saturday for an extra five hundred?" Greg reached into his wallet as he walked with her out of the store. "Yes." She flipped off the outside lights as he then handed her the two hundred. She walked to her car and he went to his Jeep grabbing his large backpack. He then put a few other things in his bag before locking his doors. With his backpack in the back of her very old beauty Honda, he stayed quiet as she drove on the back roads far away from civilization or any aspects of human contact. He then felt a gravel road and knew that she lived far into the country as he now wondered what he was getting himself into. She pulled up into a cleared field with a beat up old grey trailer that was illuminated with two spotlights on poles. It had nice flowers around it, and it looked like she tried to make it presentable, but the trailer could not hide the years and neglect. She then looked at him as she pulled right up to it. "It's not fancy but it's mine." Greg looked around and the only thing he could make out in the darkness was woods, and a lot of them. He figured she literally lived in the wilderness. There was a big old satellite dish next to the trailer though as it seemed she was not fully removed from the outside world. She opened the door and he stepped in with his bag. His eyes lit up as he saw video camera equipment set up with a light too. It was a modest setup as he instantly knew she was doing webcam stuff. He knew from a college photography class that the setup she had was definitelyfor webcam stuff. He looked at the setup and then her. Before he said anything, she spoke, "Don't mind the mess." "Ohhh that's fine. I don't mind. You're letting me crash here and saving me, so I ain't gonna judge you," he replied quickly thinking that she was doing something weird and most likely erotic. She opened the small refrigerator she had and looked over at him. "I don't know your name...but do you want something to drink? I have beer or soda." "Ohh...it's Greg. I can take a beer if you don't mind." She pulled on her shirt that had her name on it. "Figured you saw that my name is Jessie." With the equipment she had set up, the trailer had room for only one loveseat and one side of it had a pile of mail and magazines on top of it. He put his bag by the door and sat down at the only spot he could. He then looked around listening to the sound of the beer bottle crack open. Her place was not messy but very disorganized. It was as if she tried to organize it but there wasn't enough space to hold what she had. She handed him a beer and then sat on a stool she had by the camera. "You are the only person I have ever let in here. I only do this to keep what I have. The gas station pays like shit and I have lots of bills." "How you make money is on you. I don't judge people by what they do. I mean if it makes money, then do it. Since you are making money like this...it doesn't hurt anyone," he stated as he sipped his beer knowing that it really wasn't any of his business anyway. "You are so not from around here," she said drinking her beer. "People give you shit for doing this?" he asked knowing she was probably doing erotic web work in a very conservative town. Her face softening up as she spoke. "They give me shit for other things. They don't know I do this...I can expect you ain't going to say anything either." "About you doing web came stuff? Noo. I have a few friends that do web work but not what you do." She smiled deviously. "It's okay. They don't do porn though." The glass facade was broken when she said it. He knew it was erotic work the moment he saw the set up but hoped to tiptoe around it. He didn't care if she did web porn or not as she was his ride tomorrow and was helping him out when she didn't have to. How she made her money was not his issue at all although it was now out in the open. He looked at her calmly as he didn't have to speak in riddles about what she was doing. "No. No they don't. But I mean it's money. I have nothing against porn." "You say that now. Most people don't like it and I don't tell anyone. It's not something people around here would like either," she said, giving her stool she was sitting on a spin. He was trying to be objective and defuse the tension although he felt she seemed calm about admitting it. "Well, most people watch porn and don't admit to it. Normal I guess. I mean who doesn't watch porn? Although I guess you might be right about the people here admitting to it though. But where I am from, people watch it. I just never met anyone who does it. Not trying to be mean, I just never ran into a porn star or even a web cam star." "Ohhh, no offense taken. The people around here don't admit to shit. Bunch of fucking hicks around here. They fuck their animals, but God forbid they admit to jerking off to porn," she said leaning back taking a big sip of her beer. "Haaa." Greg laughed and then took a drink with her. "I guess you're not from around here." She looked at him smiling. "Ohh no. I am from here. That's why I know." "At least they never found out you do web cam work out here." "Oh please. They would never find the stuff I do," she said taking a very large swig of the beer, finishing it off. "Ohhh. You do something different?" Her eyes opened wide and she jumped back in an exaggerated way. "You do know I am trans? I do trans porn." "Ohhh," Greg replied as it all seemed to come to him. Her voice was a tad deep, but he knew some girls that had a deeper tone too. Still sounded like a girl's voice though he thought. Everything else seemed to be like a normal girl too. She had breasts and hips like a girl, and even a tight ass that he did see when she left the store. It had the perfect bump to it too. "You didn't know?" she asked as she stood up to go to the refrigerator. "Honestly, no. I guess that's a good thing though," he added as he wondered if she would be pissed at him that he didn't know. The awkward feeling of not knowing was mixed with fear that she would toss him out. "It is. I kinda like knowing I spent my money on something good." She then gave him a big smile making Greg feel at peace for not knowing, although he felt stupid for not realizing. Her smile as she asked seemed to make him think she was not mad at him for not realizing. "You want another." "Yes." As she handed it over to him, she smiled again. "Does it bother you? I mean some people get upset and all and some assholes just yell." "Noo...no. It's just that. I really didn't know. I mean I have nothing bad to say. I really just never met one before you or seen cam videos with trans girls. I mean I watched a quick clip here and there cause it's all over the place and all," he said honestly as he took the beer. Her face showed the uncaring demeanor on it as she spoke, "If you don't wanna watch, I understand. You can wait outside while I make a quick video. Won't have you camp outside, but I do have to make this video tonight." "What?" Jessie stood up and moved the stool over to the camera. She then looked at him. "If I have to take you to your meeting tomorrow, I am going to need to make a quick video for one of my subscribers. He paid for a video and it's due tomorrow." As the thunder roared outside, Greg knew his predicament just got worse. Waiting outside could be getting drenched. He could set up his tent, but that could take a while since it was packed tight in his bag and it would guarantee getting soaked before the tent was up. Then he knew the mud was the issue after that. "Ohh, I can wait in the..." She interrupted him, "Nobody goes in my bedroom, so it's you stay and watch, or you wait outside." "You really want to do this in front of me?" he asked, feeling that awkwardness of the situation now. "I guess I have too. I need the money from you, and I need to make this video tonight. I am tired and just want to get this over with too," she replied as she moved the camera so it faced her jeans. Greg wanted to leave but felt stuck and froze up not saying anything. She looked at him quickly and moved her camera into place. "Good. Just don't make a sound. If I have to do this over again, I will be pissed." He sat back on the couch and held the empty beer can wanting this to be over quickly. She was so close to him too and felt there was no way not to look as the couch was so close to where she was sitting. He then watched as she opened up her laptop and punched away at the keys. Her hand then went to the camera to turn it on as she adjusted it again. He had never seen a porn video made and never seen a trans girl porn video at all other than a few seconds of a few. He never even met one before tonight but felt no ill intentions or feelings about them. Jessie then turned on the camera as he saw the video appear on the laptop next to her. She then stood up so it showed just her jeans on the screen. Greg played sports in high school and was not shy about being nude in front of men, but never in a sexual way was he around another penis before and now he knew he was going to have to watch. "You been a bad boy," Jessie said in a sultry voice as the camera was now recording. Her hand then went to the crotch of her jeans rubbing it. He wondered why as there was no visible indication that she was anything other than female. Was she small? Did she have it removed? As Jessie looked at the camera, she then began to perform for it. Her voice then got softer and sounded sexy as she spoke, "I know you were thinking about sucking on me. I want you to think about it. Mmmmm yessss. Think about how hard I am going to get in your mouth. How my girl cock is going to get hard for you in your mouth. Mmmmmm yessss. You know I love your lips around my tip too. Ohhhhhh, yessss." He knew she wasn't talking to him but with her being so close, it felt like it. Jessie then pulled down her jeans slowly revealing simple black panties. The more she pulled down her jeans, the more Greg knew that he was going to see something. Looking away was not an option as she was only a few feet from him, and his curiosity was now in high gear. He didn't know if it was the fact that she was performing or if he really wanted to see what a dick would look like on a girl. With her jeans kicked away, Jessie opened her legs and reached down before pulling aside her panties. As she reached down between her legs, he saw her pull her member out revealing to him that she was a girl with extra parts. She now was giving Greg an up close view of her girl dick and nut sack. It was way longer than his and she was soft still. Although he knew he was a good six inches, she was so much bigger he thought. Her two plums were hanging slightly but not overly large either. She continued to look at the camera not paying him attention as she moved her fingernails alongside her soft prick. "Is this the cock you want baby? Mmmm yes. My balls are full too. Going to unload all of my hot cum right in that dirty cock sucking mouth of yours." With a slow tug of her panties, there was nothing now blocking him from a perfect view of her girl cock and hanging balls. She was devoid of hair and it almost seemed to make her long dick even larger to him. The crown of her dick was fully pronounced like a spear ready to enter anything it wanted too. Her sack hung down probably full with a big load he thought. She then reached for the base of her cock and stroked it in an almost teasing manner. "Mmmm yesss. Think about my cock baby. Think about how my hot creamy girl cum is going to taste when I shoot it into your mouth. Mmmm, yesss...I am going to cum in your mouth tonight." She then purred as she slowly stroked her girl dick as it throbbed for more attention. Looking away was not an option as all he could think about was how well formed her dick was. It wasn't a penis he thought, but a big cock that happened to be on a girl. She looked like a girl and even had the movements of a female, but she had a big cock on her, he thought. Looking away could not happen as he felt mesmerized by her voice and by her girthy cock that she seemed to be teasing just for him. "Ohhhh that's it...mmmm suck it. Think about how my cock tastes. Think about...ohhhhh that's it. Suck the tip...lick the precum you dirty slut," she moaned as she did half strokes now, pointing her member right at the camera as to make it seem like the viewer was sucking her off. Greg wanted to look away, but just stared at her erect cock like it had magical powers over him. He felt his own dick harden fast too as he listened to her words and stared at her as she masturbated in front of the camera. There was no denying it as he felt the pressure in his jeans. His dick needed to be freed as it was pushing painfully against his jeans. A bit of guilt now came to him as he knew he was aroused by it. "Mmmmmyessss baby. Your gonna love feeling my girl cock unload in your dirty mouth. That hot cum taste...Yess. That's it...OHHHHH yess. Fucking suck it," she purred again as she stroked herself. 'Was she talking to him?' Greg thought as her voice echoed in his head like he needed to suck her cock. 'Would a guy suck on her? Would it feel good to suck on her?' He thought not knowing but thinking about her in a sexual way now as he contemplated what it would be like now. It wasn't a gross feeling of thinking about sucking her cock but an experimental one he thought too. He knew he needed to adjust his sitting position as it was painful how his dick was. Knowing that if he touched anywhere near his crotch it would give it away that he got hard. He leaned back hoping his member would just slide into position if he contorted his body slightly. The idea of a seamless body movement could hide his erection now seemed the way to go. Jessie looked over and Greg instinctively looked up making eye contact with her. She then reached for the camera stopping it. "Did I get you hard?" she asked smiling. He thought about lying and hiding it but decided without thinking just to admit it. "A little." "Ohhh, I didn't think you were into trans girls." "I am not, but...you do sound sexy," he replied trying to get himself out of admitting he found her sexy. "I seee. Well, if you want to jerk off while I finish you can. I don't mind," she answered as she reached over to get a small plastic bottle that was on the ledge. "I am good. I won't need to." "Suit yourself, but I really don't mind," she replied as she then poured lube on the top of her shaft making it shine. Greg leaned back adjusting his member as he could see the outline of his own dick in his jeans as he did it. He felt his erection throbbing with need too but decided to leave it be. He wanted to look away but the sight of her hand now gliding across her lubricated shaft only made it more enticing to stare. Jessie hit the button on the camera again and continued. "Keep sucking slut boy...Ohhhhh YESSSS. That's it...ohhh fuck that's it...keep sucking my cock. Ohhhh yessss...suck me. Suck my cock just like that, ohhh yeah." Her moans as she stroked her cock filled the trailer as Greg could not look away. He felt his own cock screaming for attention as it was pulsing in his jeans. His eyes were glued on his shaft as her hand slide up and down her shaft before rubbing her big crown each time. His mouth dropped as he could not understand what was happening to him. He felt she was talking to him and that he should just do what she was said. Jessie hit the button again and looked at him like he was being bad. "I can see you need to jerk off. Just do it. You shy or something? You don't want me to see your dick, is that it?" Without a word he unzipped his jeans and then pulled them down. "See that wasn't so hard," she said encouraging him as he was down to his tight underwear. He wanted to say something, but he froze up on what to stay. When he pulled down the last inch, his dick sprung free finally releasing it as it throbbed with need. He then saw Jessie smile at him as she looked at his dick. "Ohhh...that's a nice dick." "Thank you," Greg said quickly as it came out almost too quick. She turned to the camera again turning it on as her hand then went to her cock. "Ohhh yesssss...suck my cock. Think about all that hot girl cum in your mouth. Mmmmmm yeesssss. I am going to cum in your...ohhhh put your tongue in my piss hole...yesss." Greg stroked himself slowly as she teased her cock. Her voice calling out to him and his dick responding with pleasure as he watched. Never before was he turned on by watching a dick being stroked but he couldn't stop thinking about it now, how she played to the camera as if the other person was doing it. His erection was fully engorged in his hand as he stroked to her roleplay. It didn't matter what she was now as all he thought about was he was the guy sucking her. That she was commanding him what to do. He stroked his dick in a steady rhythm, but his mouth dropped open as he just thought that he was sucking her off. He never thought about a cock before, but he now felt that it would not be so bad now. She stopped the video and looked at him as he stopped stroking in response. "It looks like you are liking this." "I didn't think I would. It's kinda hot listening to you," he admitted, breathing heavy not wanting to say that he found her touching herself even more exciting. "And you never been with a tranny before?" she asked smiling as he saw her cock looking at him like it was a weapon. "Nooo. Never." "Look, if you want to experiment, I'm cool with that. I can see that you seem to want to suck me off too," she said with a sly look to her. "Nooo, no. I just like watching is all," he replied not wanting to admit that he thought about how it would feel in his mouth. "Oh please. I see you looking at it. It's normal to experiment. Don't worry...just touch it," she pushed as she moved a bit closer as her swinging meat was now less than a foot away. "I don't know...maybe." Greg caved in as he could not take his eyes off her fleshy beast. "That's it...give in. It won't bite. I can give you a blowjob after too if you want to suck on me," she answered as his smile made it seem like it was the right thing to do now. "Okkkay...I guess I can," he stuttered as he knew he was saying that he was going to actually take a real cock in his mouth. It was just experimenting anyway, and he figured it could not be that bad as it did look like a nice cock...and it was on a girl. "Here's the deal. This lube stays on for a while and doesn't taste too good. I would need to take a shower for it to really come off." "I guess I can wait." "Since your cool about this and...your hard because of it. I can fuck your ass if you want." His eyes opened up as she offered her cock for his ass. "What? I don't know...I mean playing around with oral is one thing...but you fucking my ass?" he answered, wondering if he was too deep with the idea of experimenting. He thought he just wanted to touch it and maybe put it in his mouth for a couple of seconds but anal was not even a thought before she mentioned it just now. "Yeah, I figured you would want it," she said, still keeping her cock tip aimed at his face like it was a weapon. "Really? I never thought about it. I just figured I would play with it for you." "You serious? Never thought a guy would turn down a cock in their ass," she said then moved back a step. "Why is that?" he asked, figuring that gay guys would want other men and not trans girls. He then thought she might offer her ass to him since she wanted to be a girl and the guy does the fucking. Hey face showed a surprised expression. "Cause all of the guys that contact me want me to fuck them. Cause it feels good to have a dick in your ass. You really never seen tranny porn?" "Just a couple of pictures," he admitted but not admitting to her that they were memes with trannys on them. "Well, all of the requests I get are either for guys wanting to suck my dick or have me fuck them." "Have you ever?" "A couple of times," she admitted as she turned her body to the computer not giving him a clear view of her face or member now. The idea of it hurting was the only thing he could think about now. The morality of it being gay was not there, just the pain of doing it and who was really getting the pleasure out of it. He never once had something in his ass, but he knew that it felt good for some guys. Greg also thought that only the gay guys liked it. "Did it feel good?" he finally asked, still wanting to know more but also feeling like he was so clueless about things. He didn't want to come across as an asshole either, but he still felt clueless and embarrassed because of it. She turned to him with a confused look like she knew he was clueless. "Please...of course it feels good. You really don't know about the prostate?" Shaking off her look at him. "I do...I do. Just didn't think guys would want it so bad." "You want to try? Cause your acting like you want to try it," she said finally moving towards him again showing that her girl cock still had strength to it. Feeling pressure in his chest, Greg instantly felt his heart racing with doubt. What was he getting himself into? Anal sex? Nothing has ever been in his ass before and now this trans girl with her monster cock was going to put it right up in his ass. Would it hurt? Was it gay? "I don't know. Maybe I should just shower and head to bed," Greg stuttered as he now debated in his brain what he was thinking and what he wanted. She stepped over putting her hand on his shoulder. Her cock head was mere inches from his face as she spoke in a calming manner. "I will be gentle. Trust me, it will feel great. If it hurts, then I will stop. Come on, live a little." His brain was screaming no, but he felt like his body was saying yes. Her cock looked so good as he stared at it. The butterflies in his body wanted to say yes and experiment and then he finally just let it out. "I guess...I can try it." She stepped back smiling. "Let me finish this video then and you can clean yourself while I do it." He looked at her and then around the room. Greg then stood up not knowing what to do or how he should clean himself for what she wanted. She then guided him to the small room that was the shower. She was right behind him and then caressed his ass cheek as he stepped into the room. "Mmmm, you do have a really cute ass." He saw the room was filled with beauty products to the point of nothing else would fit on the sink. The room was clean, but it was very disorganized and cluttered. He turned to her as she was right behind her. "I never did anything like this." With a quick kiss on the lips, he opened his eyes loving the small and sexual kiss that she gave him. "Don't think about it. Just enjoy and cum. Trust me...it will feel amazing." As he stepped back, he looked at this trans girl as she still wore her work shirt and nothing else. Her erect dick still had life in it as his heart raced with anxiety of what was going to happen. Doubt was still there as it mixed with anticipation of what it would feel like. She handed him a red rubber ball shaped item with a spout on it. "Use this like ten times to clean yourself. Then come out and I should be ready for you." When she closed the door giving him privacy, he wandered what he got himself into and why was he so willing to take a real cock in his ass? Why did he say yes and why did his body seem to want it? His dick was hard from the thought as his thoughts of right and wrong were now scrambling between yes and no. The tension between going through with this and stopping was there but he could stop himself from going through the motions of cleaning his ass for a fucking. As the water hit him, his mind seemed focused and yet the urge to go through with anal sex seemed to win out. All doubt was cleansed away as he cleaned himself out preparing his rectal muscles for an intruder. He wondered what the real thing would feel like and yet still wondered how he even got into this position. Greg knew that if he were older or had a heart condition, he would be dead as his heart beat like a racehorse from thinking about what was going to happen. The thought of saying no was there but he felt he had gone too far in saying yes and there was no turning back. Jessie was cute and without her telling him that she was trans, he knew he would never know. He even knew that she was cute enough to hit on if he was in a different spot emotionally with his life too. With him this deep in the middle of nowhere, he really thought about how bad it could be compared to missing his trip and being forever lost in the woods? He walked out and Jessie had the camera equipment off. He was butt naked drying off as he saw her glistening girl cock seemingly ready to spear

into his anal cavity. She smiled at him pulling her shirt over her head. "You ready?" "I guess," he stuttered out as his eyes locked on her bra. Jessie unclipped her bra and let it fall as he saw the most perfectly shaped tits in his life. Her nipples were average size, but the perkiness of her tits was undeniably attractive. He wanted to reach out and play with them too. She pinched and pulled on her nipples making them erect a little. "You like? I had them done a few years ago." "Yesss. They are beautiful," he admitted as he then thought about how this was going to happen. "Okay, bend over on the edge of the couch," she stated as she guided him into position. Greg got down on his knees and then leaned forward as she gently guided his body downward, so his face was almost on the couch cushion. He then looked back to see her get up and put a blue looking syringe into a bottle of Astroglide. She pulled the plunger thing back and walked over to him. "Normally the guy is prepared for this. But no worries, I am going to make sure it doesn't hurt. This will put lube right where it needs to go so...no pain," she said as he felt the tube enter his ass easily. It was small and his ass easily took it in. She then pushed as he heard the plastic on plastic sound confirming that his ass was now lubed from the inside. "Normally one squirt should do it, but you never did this before, so I am going to give you more." Greg said nothing and allowed his anal passage to be filled again with lubricant. She put it deep and then pulled out a little bit before he heard the plastic sound of her emptying it in his ass. He wondered why he didn't feel the lube in his ass but then tried not to think about it. "Where are your condoms?" she asked as she stood over him putting more lube on her cock. "I don't have any...I don't carry them on me," he answered, wondering if this was going to end it and all of his prepwork would be for nothing. "I am clean, but I don't know if you want to do this bareback," she asked as he thought about it. He quickly realized that if she was okay with it, then he should be too. He didn't take her for a hooker and saying no now seemed like a major let down as he already knew his ass was lubricated. "I am clean too. Will it feel different?" "Of course, it will feel different. Not for you, but for me," she said as he listened to her get behind him. "You need to relax at first too. No pushing me out or it's gonna hurt. Just relax all the muscles in your body and give into it." With a deep breath, Greg did what she said but could not help but feel nervous about the whole situation. He felt her hands on his ass cheeks as he relaxed as best as he could. Not thinking about what was going to happen was hard but he let his body go limp and relaxed more still feeling his heart beat fast with nervous energy. The idea that her giant girl cock was going to enter his ass now burned into his brain of something that could possibly be the worst thing he ever did. The sensation of her tip hitting his outer ring sent a shiver down his spine that his ass was actually going to get fucked. "Is it gay?" Now rang in his head that having a cock in his ass was a gay act and he was letting it happen. A stretching feeling in his ass came over him as he felt her pushing her bulbous crown into his sphincter with the intent purpose of fucking his rectum. The more she pushed, the more he felt his anal muscles give way until there was nothing but a full feeling. It was not that bad he thought as the initial sting went away quite quickly. The only sensation he could now feel was pressure in his ass like something was intruding in his butt that he had no control over, and the only instincts were to push it out. "Ittttssss, ok...almost in. You're tight and need to relax...almost in," she purred at him as he did what she said, feeling his rectal muscles being stretched to the point of feeling it was going to tear. Ohhhh...OHHHHHHH Goddddd," Greg moaned as he felt her just slide further into him feeling her body against his tailbone. There was no doubt in his mind that she was completely in him now. "That's it...that's it. Just stay relaxed as your ass adjusts. Just breath softly. No pushing either...just let it happen. Stay totally still and calm," she said as he focuses on not moving or letting his instincts kick in and push her out. "Ohhhh, okay," he replied, feeling the "Trust me, it will get easy and feel amazing speech." The pressure was intense as the full feeling never dulled like the initial pain of her pushing in did. The sensation to push out the intruder was so strong too, as he reminded himself to stay calm and relaxed. "Why do gay guys like this?" He thought as he felt no real pleasure of having her cock up his ass either. As Jessie pulled out a little, he wondered if that was it and it was all over. Just as he thought about what was happening, he felt her slide back in again and once again felt her waist on his ass confirming she was all the way in. The full sensation of being stuffed with her girl cock still did not fade but he could now tell that his ass muscles stopped having the urge to expel her girl member from his anal cavity. "Mmmmmyess...Ohhh fuck your ass feels nice and tight. Is it hurting?" she cooed at him as he felt her slowly pushing in and out of his ass in a fucking motion as he felt something building in him. "Nooo...it just feels weird," he admitted as it was like an unmovable pressure in his ass that was no longer painful but had a weird sensation inside of him that he could not pinpoint. "It gets better," she said as she pulled out and pushed back before finding a steady rhythm. It was not fast, but he still felt her hips bucking against him as her girl rod slid deep in him. Her cock felt thick and yet his asshole was easily taking it. It seemed to glide through his lubed ass muscles with pure ease she pushed back deep in him each time. The in and out sensation of her cock felt like she was in total control too, as it was her pace controlling everything too. "Ohhh fuck...that's it...ohh fuck your ass feels so good," she moaned out as she picked up her pace letting his ass feel like it was being fucked. All his thoughts of wrongdoing ended as he felt a numbing feeling that was now pleasurable. It was like her cock head was nudging on something in his ass that felt really good. The more she pushed in, the more he felt the urge to push back so it could be rubbed harder. Each time her girl rod slid in, he swore he could feel each inch claim his hole too. He knew his curiosity was now appeased as was his understanding of why some guys loved anal sex. Jessie was pounding away and all he could do was let loose a series of soft grunts and moans too. Each time she plunged into his ass he let go a soft moan like he was confirming she was right about getting a cock in his ass too. "Fuck...fuckkk. Your ass feels so fucking good. Ohhh fuck yes," she moaned out as he felt her body now slamming home against his backside, feeling her girl cock piston out of his anal tunnel. There was no doubt now as he knew he was truly feeling what it was like to be butt fucked. Her girth was not even a problem now as he felt open for her without thinking about keeping his anal muscled relaxed. The open feeling and full sensation of her plunging her girl cock in his ass seemed easy now as she pumped away. He just stayed still and relaxed giving up his ass for her dick as he felt his anal hole had been claimed by her now. "Ohhhhfuckkkkk," Greg gave in and moaned out, still staying relaxed and yet giving into the building pleasure of her cock as it pounded away. He knew there was no denying it now to her as he felt his brain go drunk on pleasure confirming that his ass wanted it now. "You like it?" she moaned back as she was full on fucking him now with the sound of her body pounding against his backside filling the small trailer. "Yess...yeah. Ohhhhfuckk!" Greg cried out as her cock was fucking his ass full force now and yet he knew he was taking it feeling only pleasure. There was a sense of giving up that came over him that he loved now as he felt like he was the one being fucked and that her cock was the instrument of his enjoyment. "You want me to talk dirty?" she asked as he felt her hips pounding at his ass hard, feeling her girl muscle pump in and out of his now open ass. "Yesss." He gave in as he never knew his ass being fucked could feel so good. "Ohhhhyesss...you feel my big cock fucking you? You like big girl cock?" she moaned out as his brain seemed to be like mush now only thinking about how amazing it felt to feel her meaty cock plow into his asshole as if it was a pussy to be fucked. There was no resistance now as he felt like his ass was an open fuck tunnel now for cock. His ass muscles felt numb and stretched open without the ability to close even if he wanted to. His own cock was throbbing hard as he wanted to reach down and play with it too. Her cock tip felt like a spear that was hitting a spot in him making him think she knew exactly where his prostate was. Denying the pleasure would be a crime as he knew that her trans girl cock was now the pleasure wand for his ass. "Ohhhh fuck...yesss. Yyess," he cried out, feeling her girl dick piston in and out of him like she was a sex machine for his ass. Her body was slamming home as he felt his hips absorb the blows with each one confirming he was the one being fucked. Her body was thumping away as her cock burrowed itself in his butt hole over and over again. He felt she was relentless in fucking his tunnel and when he tried clenching it, it was no use. He could feel his rectal muscles stretched and loose from her fucking him too. It didn't matter either as he just wanted her to keep fucking his ass. "You're taking my cock so good too. It's like your ass was made for me. You're sure this is your first time?" "Never...Ohhh never," he moaned, feeling her body thrust against him as her girl member pumped in and out of his ass freely. She pulled out as he felt the loss of her cock and yet still felt open at the same time. "Sit on the couch. Gonna fuck you like a bitch now." Greg moved into position as he saw his underwear covered with lube and a small spot of cum. Not caring about it, he sat on the couch as she grabbed his legs opening them and holding them up at the same time. She pulled him back and then pushed his legs back so his ass was up in the air. She then grabbed his dick and looked at him. "You came a little." "I did?" he questioned as he didn't feel his orgasm yet and still felt his dick was hard like a stone. "You did a little. Either that or you precum a lot," she said as she maneuvered her helmet towards his open ass, pushing easily back inside of him. She then reached down holding his underwear that showed a large wet spot on it. "I didn't feel that I came though." Jessie put his hand on the base of his own dick. It was very slippery as if he came but it was clear so he knew that he precame, but the amount was almost unreal. "Wow...it is a lot." "It's good too...lets you know that you your ass likes it." She smiled back at him. She then pushed in further as his eyes almost rolled back with the utter blissful fulfillment of her thick cock plunging back into his anal hole once again. "Did you ever think you would have a tranny cock in your ass?" Shaking his head and feeling spread out like a girl he replied, "Nooo...nooo." She pushed in and then held it as he saw a look of lust in her eyes. He smiled back at her panting. "It does feel fucking good. Fuck it feels good." She smiled back at him as she pulled out and held it before pushing back in with a hard confirming thrust. "I swear your ass is making my dick feel soo good." Once again, she found her rhythm as he felt her pound away inside of his ass like it was a home for her dick. He felt lost in ecstasy as she was pounding away, fucking him like he was a girl with her legs up. "Mmmm you're doing good...I can feel you cock pulsating as I fuck you too. You're a natural bottom too. Love that. Love bottom bitches who can cum while being fucked." Her body became still just as he felt the rising of his climax. He didn't even need for her to stroke him as he felt the urge to spew his load. She just held his dick calmly speaking, "Don't cum yet. Hold it for a while. I want to fuck more and then you can cum...but only after I cum." "Okay...okay," he moaned, feeling the urge to ejaculate bad too. "Is it what you expected?" Jessie asked as he still felt her cock wedged deep in his ass moving slowly but not moving her hand from his base like she was delaying him. "No...feels good...really good," he admitted, knowing full well that he would seek out anal sex in the future, that trans porn was now on his watch list after feeling her fuck him. The memory of this now would be relived in his thoughts each time he was seeing a trans girl now. She smiled at his answer and then moved her hands caressing his ball sack. "I made sure to use enough lube in your butt to make sure it wouldn't hurt." He felt her pull out and then push back in as it felt different and yet better as she plowed into his anal hole once again. She stroked his cock slowly as she banged her slender body against his making sure her girth was buried deep each time. "Ohhhyesss...make me fucking cum." She moved as Greg just gave in and let his ass be the hole for her cock to fuck. He nodded his head giving into the fact he was spread open being pounding like a girl would be, and he loved each glorious thrust her cock gave him. The idea he was her bitch now was being confirmed in his thoughts now. Her hand was stroking him slowly, almost making him want to push back as the combination of pleasure was unreal. He saw her eyes close as she was now going full speed with her hips slamming home deep with her girl cock. "I am gonna cummmm...Ohhh fuck yessssss." His mouth opened up as she said it, hearing her moan loud at the end. He wanted to be worried and possibly be disturbed that his rectum was going to have actual sperm in it. The thought that a cock would spew semen in his butt would be gross and a turn off now became a curiosity to be tried. The idea seemed so gross and literally gay, but he could not help but think it would feel good and be a great ending. Her body was now slamming harder as he felt powerless under her, like his job was to be a fuck hole for her cock and take her load in him. Her thick flesh rod was pulsating too as he knew that she had to be really close to her climax. There was no denying that he was both loving it and enjoying how his ass had stretched to her fat cock size. "Ohhhhhfuckk!" Jessie bellowed loud again as he could feel her cock stiffen and stop moving. Her body was almost shaking as he knew she was depositing her girl sperm in his ass. She pushed her body hard against him, holding him in place. He wanted to feel it but only felt her body against hers. He knew that her girl cock was unloading all the content of her balls right in his ass like it was a pussy to be inseminated. She was balls deep as he then felt her cock flex again and again. His own dick pulsed as he thought about the fact there was actually sperm being spurted in his anus and her thick cock was the tool to deliver it. "Ohh shit...I am still cumming!" she moaned again, still holding her body against his as he felt her cock just pump away like it was not done making sure his anal hole was properly filled with her warm trans cum. "You ready to cum now?" Jessie asked still keeping her cock fully impaled as her hand was now fully stroking his dick. Greg nodded as his eyes rolled back in his head. The sensation of her cock impaled in his rectum while her hand stroked his dick was almost too much. The feeling of direct pressure on his crown while her girl cock just stayed erect in his ass was almost too much. He instinctively clenched to the best of his ability, but it felt like her dick was even bigger now. "OHHHHH FUCKKKKK!!" he screamed as his ass wanted to clench but couldn't from her cock and her hand stroking his dick. Greg never had a body shaking orgasm, but his hands now scrambled to grab anything to hold onto. Jessie was not stroking him but squeezing and sliding her palm on his crown making sure his sensitive tip was feeling pleasure. Her cock felt thick in him and without the ability to push her out only added to the intensity. "That's it...Ohhh fuck you're close...I can feel it," she moaned as he finally let go as his body shook. His eyes closed and he felt like he was having a seizure as his climax was riding through him like a tornado of pure ecstasy. Her cock was still wedged in his ass as he just felt his own dick just spewing out its cream into her hand as nothing else mattered. She stroked slowly as she felt like he was now being milked. Jessie finally stopped stroking and he opened his eyes feeling the euphoria of his greatest orgasm rob him of all energy. "You came. You came ALOT too," she calmly stated as he then looked down to see her hand covered in his cum. "I am so tired. I never had an orgasm like that," he mumbled, almost feeling drunk from the pleasure. "Okay. Don't move. I am going to pull out, and don't move." As she pulled out, he felt the loss of her dick and yet still felt open from being fucked. Wanting to clean up quickly, all he saw was his underwear. Not thinking, he grabbed it and wiped the base of his dick clean. Jessie then came back to him and handed him a washcloth. "You might want to clean your ass too. I didn't see a lot come out, but it will probably come out later." "Okay," he mumbled, finally standing up and yet unsure if he could walk at all. "You can crash in my bed with me, but you need to keep that washcloth between your...here let me," she said as he felt her wedge the washcloth between his ass crack like it was a makeshift diaper for him. "I don't want to wash my sheets because your ass leaks out." He followed her into the bedroom noticing it was covered in tattoo drawings. He wanted to ask questions but felt his words not being able to form. He just fell into bed as she did the same holding him. He turned to her, giving her a sensual yet weak kiss. "I hoped you liked it," he said, wanting to say something more profound but was still shocked he even spoke since he was so tired and almost delirious from sex. "I did. I hope you liked me fucking you. Not too many straight guys will admit that they liked it." Greg closed his eyes and murmured, "It felt good and I didn't think it would." *** The ring and vibration of his phone woke him up as he looked at the caller. It was the tour guide. He then looked at the time. It was seven and he had all his alarms set. They were not even snoozed as he slept through both of them. The ringer stopped as he realized that she hung up and that there was no chance he was going to get there in time. He looked over at Jessie as she was sleeping next to him. "Fuckkkk." She opened her eyes and looked at him without being worried that he cursed. "Did you sleep through your alarm?" "Yes...fuck...they will leave without me. Shit...shit...fucking shit. I missed it. I fucking slept through my alarms," he cursed louder. Jessie sat up as he looked at her breasts as she made no attempt to cover up. "If you want, I can take you to the meeting spot that all tours go through. It's a small cabin the Rangers use." "What?" he asked. "There is a meeting spot that most tour guides use. It's like a spot to take shelter in case of emergency and a place state police use to rescue lost hikers. We can take your Jeep too, so you won't miss them. Of course, we still need to get your car fixed." "Really?" he said, thinking that his hike could be saved. "Sure. I feel bad that you missed your tour." "How long does it take?" he asked, feeling better that he could still get in most of the trip. "I know a shortcut. With a Jeep, we can be there before dark tonight. Be there before your group gets there too, I bet." "And you can take my Jeep back," he asked, not looking at her breasts but focusing on her face. "Yeah sure." Greg texted the tour guide apologizing for missing the deadline and then asked if they were stopping at a small cabin that the Rangers use. The tour guide was quick to text back that they could meet up at the cabin today and that they would be there about sunset." He looked up at Jessie realizing that it was all solved. "Thank you so much." "You know we have time to kill." "Here let me show you what I am really working on. As she said that she reached under the bed and pulled out a binder. "Sure," Greg answered seeing that the binder was elaborately decorated, and she must have spent a lot of time working on it. She then flipped on her side and opened the book to reveal hand drawn tattoo designs. Each one looked beautifully done and something that you displayed as artwork themselves. "I want to open my own place. There is a place in Great Falls that says they might buy some of my pieces." He flipped through the book as she pointed to each design and explained what it was and what she was thinking when she made it. Greg knew she just wanted to open herself up and talk about something other than sex. He listened and pointed to the ones he liked but also told her that he had no tattoos and was not into them. She smiled back and then pointed to parts of her body that she wanted to tattoo. Greg then looked away and saw the parts of her body where she wanted them. As she pointed to her lower stomach he was still fixated on her limp member as it just hung there lifeless. Although soft, he instantly recalled it fully erect and plunging in his ass. The strange concept of how a seemingly hot normal girl could have a cock on her still rattled around in his brain. He knew of trans girls and that shemale porn was out there, but he felt it was like seeing a bald eagle as it was not something you see or encounter every day. The touch feel notion came to him as he couldn't help but reach out and caress her shaved balls and penis. "Ohhhh. Didn't think you wanted more," she said as she turned away from the book and now looked at him. Looking at her he spoke hoping it wouldn't offend her, "It's just that I never felt another dick before...just being honest." "It's fine. I know some guys just like to look, some experiment." As his hand caressed her sack, it was strange feeling another set of balls and feeling one without hair too. The elastic stretching feeling and then moving over to a soft prick was so surreal he thought. She moved to allow him more access too as he saw her sack was smaller than his but still hung there as a reminder she had sperm and that he took it up his ass too. "Mmmm...feels nice. Most guys just want to leave right after sex. I like this," she admitted as he now thought about how they had something different now. "Do you sleep with a lot of guys?" "Sometimes. You're the first to ever be at my place. I don't like to take guys home with me," she said as he thought about how lonely she must be since most guys probably thought about her just for sex. "I don't sleep around with a lot of girls. My girlfriend dumped me over a month ago. You are the first person I have been with since. Also never had a dick in my ass either...guessing you knew that." Greg chuckled and smiled even though she could not see his face. She pushed her butt against him as he felt like she was trying to get his soft dick between her ass cheeks. "I would let you fuck my ass if I wasn't so tired." As Greg thought about it, he reached down to see if he could get hard. Jessie then turned halfway looking at him. "It's okay...I like just being next to you like this." Greg moved his hands to her hips and then to her stomach. He could feel that she had more muscles than a girl should but also was absent of fat too as she was very slender. He didn't stop at her stomach and moved further down feeling her soft member again as it seemed so lifeless and yet exotic too. His fingers were gripping the softened shaft and then caressing her shaved balls again hoping it would get hard. "Mmmmm, that feels good," she moaned out softly as he continued to feel her genitals so turned on that she had them. Greg wanted to say something but just leaned his head on her shoulder while holding her soft girl dick in his hand. Not stroking it, he just held it as he gave into the sensual moment. He thought about leaning in for a kiss but the nagging feeling of offending her came back again. Jessie's phone buzzed breaking the moment as she looked at him and then got up from the bed to retrieve it. She then listed, nodding her head and then just said "Okay" and hung up. "Can take your Jeep now. Said it's probably the alternator and can do it now. I texted him before about it and we got to get the part at Drake's Auto. It's a drive to get there so we got to leave now." Not needing an invite, Greg got out of bed and began to change. Jessie quickly did the same as Greg got to his pants and realized that he needed to use his spare pair of underwear. Packing two of everything he came prepared, but he also knew it was packing light for the trip too. Once he got his clothes on and bent over to grab his shoes, he felt his ass give out. It was very sudden and quick as there was no time to get to the bathroom. He quickly made his way to the bathroom and saw that her cum from last night finally made its way out and all over his underwear. He quickly cleaned himself as he stepped out of the small bathroom holding cum soiled underwear. "What happened?" she asked as he walked out of the bathroom. Greg gave a look as she then gave a grimace in return. "Sorry. I thought the washcloth would have worked." "Rinse them off in the sink." As he stepped towards the sink, he smelt his underwear. He looked away making a cringe with his face. Jessie then gave him a sorrowful look. "Sorry... I really am. I thought it would come out last night on the washcloth." He saw her look upset as she moved closer towards him. "I am so sorry. Please don't be mad." "Is there a store nearby?" "No...but I have an idea," she said, leaving and walking fast to her bedroom. He then thought about going commando and how he might be able to pull it off but also knew the dangers of it too. Jessie emerged quickly from her bedroom holding up a pair of black thong panties. He looked at her with his eyes wide open, shocked that wearing panties was her idea of solving the problem. "Panties?" "Why not? I go camping in them all the time," she answered back with a small smirk on her face. His mind was now flashing with the idea that she was going to turn him into some cross dresser. But he did know that it was better than nothing. He figured that it would hold his junk in place during the hike if it wasn't too bad. "I can't believe I am going to do this." Jessie smiled and then threw the panties at him. "I have another pair just in case too." The feeling of her cotton panties was weird but not bad he felt as she was driving. It was smooth on his junk and yet flimsy on his ass, but it still felt covered in a way. The material was thinner than his own underwear and yet soft at the same time it held all his bits in place. He still could not stop thinking about it though as she drove him, and he wore her panties. It was an exotic sensation on his skin knowing he was wearing her panties too. The radio came on as she turned up the radio to Imagine Dragons radioactive rocking out while driving and smiling at him. It was an odd feeling as he thought of her as something other than a one-time fling and yet not at a relationship level. He knew it was something more intimate then that and yet nothing was said about anything more than what they did or had. The back and forth was tedious as they got the part and then headed back for the Jeep to get it fixed. She spoke about her dreams about opening her tattoo parlor and how she just ordered her first tattoo gun to practice too. He obliged her by listening and asking questions but was fearful to talk about himself, fearing that his life of wealth might tarnish the delicate friendship they had. With the Jeep fixed, he took over driving and headed out to the wilderness. He listened to the directions she gave and of where to drive to get there. It was all back roads and nothing was paved either as he shifted it into four wheel drive too. The conversation was now about the mountains and the scenic beauty as he now talked about hiking and fishing. Jessie added that she did go camping often but only by herself and it had been a year since she went. As the road got a bit rougher the Jeep bounced, and Greg could feel the slight soreness in his ass from last night too. It was like having a constant reminder that a cock was up his ass fucking him and eventually came in him like his ass was some pussy to fuck and cum in. He felt a bit of guilt about it now, but also the excitement of experimenting. As they pulled into a clearing Jessie pointed. "There. Stop here. That road up there leads to the small cabin." It was not yet sunset, and nobody was in sight when he got out of the Jeep to get his pack. Jessie then walked around to get in the driver's side as he swung his pack on his shoulders. Just as his pack was on, she looked at him talking softly, "You know...I really liked what we did. Maybe when I pick you up here...we can do it again." "You want to fuck me again?" he asked, feeling his heart pound faster knowing that there was a chance at experimenting again. "Let you fuck me after if you want," she countered as he could see her face holding back a smile.

An Adventure of Silky So I said to myself, 'what is it that gets those guys so hot for my tiny little asshole?' I can reach down and stick my finger in it, and that's not unpleasant, but not near as much fun as buttering my muffin. So I decided to investigate. I am very through in my homework. Asking men was useless; all they did was tent up and tell me it was good and I should do it with them. I needed info of a practical nature. I got a mirror and sat on it. Now I could see all my bits fairly well, though it's much easier to look at Jessica, my sister. When I asked her to bend over and let me inspect her butt she got all huffy and went to the library. Well, the mirror shows me it's confusing down there. To start, there's my mons, which is a nice bounce pad for when two pelvises are bumping together. Ever gotten too energetic during 'normal' sex and walked around for two days hurting and smiling? My mons splits apart to form two big rolls of fat (not THAT big, damnit!) that in my case are covered with a fine down of red hair which I don't shave because I like it. And so does George. Jess's is naked as a hairless dog, and has no character. Except when she wears clit jewelry, which is a whole 'nother subject. Anyway, my pussy looks like a nice forested hill, with a pleasant valley in the middle, an ideal place for a family picnic. Her's reminds me of Alaska or Russia, and who in their right mind would want to go camping in the snow? (Jess doesn't have snow, but she could, based on geological physiognomy.) Now depending on whether you are looking in the mirror, as I am, or the real thing, as you might be doing as a male person, or an interested female person, which could happen without any aspersions on your orientation, I'm sure most boys would love to hold another boy's hard cock and look at it up close. Anyway... From my view Asshole is closest to mirror, vagina above. My vagina, and presumably all others, at least all I've inspected, are designed from the get go to hold penises. You would think that men could be satisfied with putting the little peg in the little hole, but oh no – I'll get a thousand complaints just for referring to their precious manhoods as LITTLE pegs. Vaginas are the right size, they grease themselves, they're self cleaning; They even get red and puffy to tell you when, and that little clitoris just on top works really well. What more could you ask for? Our Asses, apparently. Our asses, which are much tighter, harder to get in, and require extra lubrication. That's what men can ask for. Or, they want to stick their dicks in our sweet little mouths and risk all those teeth just to get a flexible tongue inside. I guess an anus with a tongue would drive men insane. Anyway, I'm looking at my stronzo (ass hole in Italian) and I realized it's not round! That is a strange thing, but when I read up on it, none of them are. They are slits when closed. Well, think about it. My pouty little mouth is a slit when it's closed (Tho Jess says that only happens when I'm asleep) and it can certainly accommodate a cylindrical object. The little folds of skin sit inside a circular muscle that pulls it tightly closed; it's the one you try to release when you fart. I don't fart, because I'm a lady, though on occasions I have been known to have a tiny 'poot.' Do not discuss this subject with Jessica, because she tells some not true stories about a few tiny little poots that I have had that never bothered anyone. The skin down there on the outside is just that, skin, though it is usually pigmented. (Did you know that some porno stars have their orifices bleached!?) (And perhaps that particular place is an ori-feces. Ha!) I also got a small fiber optic scope and looked inside my rectum. (I told you I was through!) A few inches inside, the anus has a thin white line called the pectinate line that goes all the way around. That's where skin ends and intestines begin. Below the line, sensitive to touch and pain; rim jobs!! Above the line, sensitive to pressure; Stuff it in! As I pushed further inward and onward (or vice versa?) I saw little folds of stretchy pink stuff comprising the anal canal. After a few more inches, the canal turns into the rectum, which is a baggy part about 8 inches deep (in me) which is a paler pink, with splotchy color. You may want to screw it, but you probably don't want to look at it. Now, for you guys, the big pro of butt fucking is that nice thick circular muscle. It's what clamps down ever so tightly on your cock when you pump it in me. On the other hand, over in front, in the vagina (That place that was MADE for a penis, Hello!) there are some nice glands that secrete slimy stuff to make it slippery, for a fun, nice ride. Yes, there are muscles around the vagina, but they aren't nearly as strong, what with not having to hold shit all the time as the anus does. I do Kegel exercises every day to make my pussy better. I pretend there is something, like maybe a fresh zucchini in there and try to squeeze it. That makes my vaginal muscles all buffed and able to squash a cock better; more fun when I cum!! But unless I was really OCD I'd never spend as much time doing those as I do holding my anus tight, because after all... duh! So back there, I'm very strong, but that's the bad part, too, because since it was NEVER designed to have things like tumescent tumors SHOVED into it, that muscle objects to opening from THAT side. When I have orgasmed once or twice – the more the better, I always say – then my whole body, and especially my pelvic area, gets really relaxed. Then I can LET something get pushed the WRONG way up my butthole. Since there are lots of nerves down there, and they all connect together, pushing and pulling, rubbing on the skin of the outer anus feels good. Pressure feels nice inside my rectum, so when it's all done properly I can have an orgasm from a back-door entry. I can't create much lubrication there, so using something to glide in helps a lot. I personally have experimented (I told you I was through!) with several motor oils, Vaseline, and saliva. Although water based lubes like KY are probably best, my personal favorite is lard. Yes, it's in the pantry with the rest of the stuff you use to make a roux for Etouffee (I said I didn't look like a cook, not that I knew nothing!) anyway... lard is great for anal sex, but you better cover the bed and pillows and Hell the whole room, and plan on lots of shower time after. It doesn't wash off without soap, so somebody has to soap up a finger and... you can probably figure that part out. Jess, my sister/ lover and George, our owner/ father/ lover live in a beautiful house as a happy family. Jess had to get a tetanus shot for school. Why she never had one before I don't know. But (bad pun) she had to see the doctor, so I went with her to ask him questions. I figured he would know, being a Dr. and all, and I do my homework. We talked about the previous weeks as we walked. "Jessie, I'm never going to lie about anything again. That was the most awful week! No sex at all, and you two bumping like bunnies; I nearly went crazy!" "Silk, it was worse for me. We both missed you so much! George knew he had to be stern, but making you sleep alone made him insatiable! I could barely walk all week my pussy was so sore. And my little butthole. And of course I had to blow him like a zillion times! We had more sex that week than any I can remember." Big smile for a person who was sad! "He didn't cry? He wasn't inconsolable? He wanted extra sex?" My face was a storm cloud. "Oh, sure. With just the two of us in that big ol' bed, all alone, we tried positions I never even thought of before. And OMG. The Oral! What wasn't raw from fucking hurt from whisker burn. I don't think I made it a single hour with clothes on for seven straight days!" Smile even bigger; not sad at all! "I thought he missed me!" Storm Cloud with a few raindrops. "I'm sure he did, in his head. Just not so much in his dick. Not any at all in his dick, to be totally honest. Maybe he's tired of all that red pubic hair." That was going too far! I am his little red-head (and red-pussied) baby girl, who always turns him on! Jess and I differ in that she shaves, I don't. Our shoes clicked down the sidewalk, mine tic-tic-tic, hers tic----tic----tic because her legs are so damn long. Face a storm cloud, then thunder. "Jess, do you know why blondes wear shoulder pads?" "No, Silky, why do blondes wear shoulder pads?" "Duh!" I rocked my head from side to side to demonstrate. "Did you hear about the short fat red head who was stuffed into a trash can and couldn't get out?" Jessica smiled so sweetly. "I am not fat! One pound, just one! And that's water weight. The noodles I ate hold water. They do!" "Sure, Silky, sure. If you say so." "So here's a red head joke: This red head went to the Dr. and said she hurt everywhere. 'When I touch my arm it hurts, and when I touch my head it hurts and when I touch my leg it hurts, what's wrong?' and the Dr. said 'you're not a red-head; you're blonde,' and she said 'how did you know?' and he said 'you have a broken finger.'!" By then I was already running to get away from her. Tappity-tappity. "You're just jealous because you're short." "Everybody's mean to me, because I'm the shortest person in the world!" "Silly Silky, there are lots of people shorter than you...." She counted off her fingers. "Midgets, dwarves, people in freak shows..." If I wasn't totally non-violent I would have punched her in her little flat B cup tits! But she is bigger than me.... I jumped up to the next step in front of us. "Ha! Now I'm taller!" She flew up two. "Now I'm even more taller than you, shrimp!" I scrambled to the top step. "Who you calling shrimp, you auricomous asshole?" She did a flying arabesque and vaulted onto the railing along the stairs. "The tall person up here higher than you can get, oh short one!" I was like seriously re-evaluating my position on physical aggression when we got to the Doctor's office. So many forms to sign. Jess has, like, no idea about any family history; you'd think she just appeared out of thin air. She's like afraid of needles, I know that. The nurse like gave her the shot; she wasn't even going to have to like wait to see Dr. Kendrick when she fainted! The place on her arm started dripping blood. She was paler than her hair. The Doctor came in. He was really hot. I didn't know if he was like an intern or what, but I didn't see a wedding ring. He had a like chiseled jaw, and eyes as brown as like that teak table George has in his den, and looked to be like a day overdue on a shave. His hands had like fine black hair on them, as he touched Jessie's bleeding spot.....Jess! OMG! By now she had started to look less like Casper and more like Wonder Woman. But with blonde hair. And no bracelets. No tiara. And way smaller boobs. OK, focus. He put a big bandage, like a super band-aid on it. "You should do fine, just a little needle phobia," he said. Pale as she was, she still grasped the essential problem. "Doctor," she drawled – that Mississippi trailer trash drawl – "will I be able to...to have....sexual relations?" "It... it won't affect that at all, Miss." Now he looked pale. "Dr. Kendrick, can I like ask a question?" I spoke up, to stop the fear. "Yes?" he looked harried and busy. "Would you have anal sex with one of us?" That was a mistake. I mean to include Jess in the question. Doctors swear like on a Hippopotamus never to like hurt patients; well, not to hurt them too bad, 'cause they do like stick you with needles. But he can't like go out with Jess 'cause she's like a patient, though I'm not really sure how that would like hurt her; I would think it would make her like happy, not hurt her; unless he's like one of those S-N-M people, with whips... but then George whips us, and we LIKE it... "What I mean is, is anal sex safe?" "You can't get pregnant. But the risk of disease is greater." "Dis Ease? How about down right pain?!" "He means AIDS, Silky," Jess thru in. "Anal sex is not uncommon in the normal population according to data from the National Institute of Medicine, but it can produce injuries due to the relative lack of internal lubrication in the rectum." He regained his composure, but I already knew all that stuff. Composed or not, however, he didn't even like try to get my phone number. He's probably gay. Medical School piles up huge debts. Doctors never have time to be with their families, anyway. My name is Alexis. I am single, but by choice. I date around, but nothing serious. I'm not a model by any means, but with dark black hair, green eyes, lightly tanned skin and soft features with full lips, I definitely turn some heads. I stand at 5 foot 5 with an hour glass figure, full C cup breasts, tight stomach, and an ass to die for. I am 22 years old and all the guys my age are so immature. They want to party and get trashed, but I'm just not interested in that stuff. I've never been good at socializing... I'll go with a few friends to a hole in the wall bar and throw some darts or shoot pool and have a beer or two, but I'm not into clubs and dancing and drinking shots. Besides...I had my sights set on someone a bit older and much hotter than any guy I've fooled around with. I had just gotten out of the shower and started to dry off when I heard my phone go off. Emily, my neighbor who lives behind me, was calling me. "Heyyy." I answered. "Hey girrrrl! Look is there any chance you can watch the kids for me tomorrow night? I am on my way out of town for a work thing which is bullshit because my work trip meetings are usually Mondays, not Thursdays!" "Of course, I don't mind at all! But what about Matthew or his brother?" Matthew was her incredibly handsome husband, he drove a delivery truck first thing in the mornings till evening. His Brother moved in with them a couple years ago, he worked night shifts and was the babysitter during the days. "Matthew has some errands to run after work tomorrow, he should be home right after the kids finish dinner. Ryan finally ended up moving out! I am grateful for him watching Max and Mel but he really sucked at the responsible stuff and I always came home to a trashed house." "Ohhh okay, I'm sorry Ryan wasn't any real help...but yeah I can watch the kids no problem." "Thanks Alexis, you're the best!" She says then hangs up. I stand in the bathroom, still covered up by my towel. I noticed I ended up air drying so I didn't have to use the towel now. I'm glad though because I still have some sunburn from last Saturday and it still hurts a bit. I rub some aloe on my shoulders as much as I can. Luckily I live alone, so I don't have to worry about covering up when I come out of the bathroom. I walk into my room and climb into bed, I enjoy sleeping nude. I snuggle up under my covers and fall into some deep sleep. The next day, I spend it catching up some laundry and reading some sexy stories online. While my clothes were washing, I skim through the website, looking for something that catches my eye. I decided on a daddy-daughter story where they reunite after not seeing each other since she was 6 years old. She ends up working for him and they realize their love for each other and start their romance. It was really hott and had me very horny. Of course, as always, I couldn't get myself off. So I get frustrated and turn my damn laptop off and went to check on my clothes. Emily texts me asking to be at her house when her son, Max, gets off the bus and the babysitter will be dropping Melissa off around 4. I reply saying "no problem :)". After all of my laundry had been washed and dried and I watched some stuff on Netflix, I see its almost 2pm and I decide to go ahead and find some clothes to wear. It's almost 90 degrees outside, so I decided on my favorite dress. It clings to my c cup breasts and flat stomach and then flows out at my hips and stops just above my knees. The back crosses over, like an X, so its fairly loose, which is what I need for my crappy sunburn. Of course I never wear a bra, they are so uncomfortable, and would be even more now, so I went without, as always. I get my favorite light blue boy shorts on and slide my sandals on. I walk out the door and lock it behind me. Thankfully I don't have to walk down the street with cars passing by, I am able to walk through the small patch of trees in my backyard and it leads to their place. I get to their porch and grab the key under a plant pot that I always use when I am asked to babysit for them. I walk inside their house, Max should be home in just a few minutes. I get his TV set up for Netflix and then throw his favorite dinner in the oven, lasagna. When Max gets home, he does his homework and chores and then we watched the first Avengers together. Halfway through the movie, there's a knock at the door, I check the window and see its the other babysitter here to drop off Melissa. She comes inside and runs into my arms, Little Mel was my angel! I loved her so much. We all finish Avengers together and then eat dinner. My phone goes off, letting me know I received an email. MATTHEW TO ALEXIS 6:32PM: Hey Alexis, sorry I don't have your phone number and remembered you emailed me last summer. Hope you are able to receive this email. ALEXIS TO MATTHEW 6:38PM: Hey! Got your email. Kids are good, we just finished dinner. MATTHEW TO ALEXIS 6:41PM: Okay thanks. Look, I have one other errand to run. I was wondering if you'd be able to stay a bit longer though because I was thinking about getting a few drinks with my buddy at the bar by the house. If you have plans I understand! ALEXIS TO MATTHEW 6:45PM: Yeah that's no problem at all! Go get a few hours to yourself, we will be fine. MATTHEW TO ALEXIS 6:47PM: Thank you so much. I wont be too long. I put my phone down and decided to surprise the kids with ice cream sundaes. Found all kinds of toppings to use and set them on the table. I put ice cream in the bowls and called the kids into the kitchen. They get loud with excitement and we added some fun junk to the ice creams. After ice cream, I get them in the shower and get them ready for bed. Its almost 8:30 so I get comfy on the couch covered with a blanket. The only downfall to a dress, is I get cold, and I don't like touching other peoples thermostat in their houses. I end up falling asleep during the show that was on TV. Matthew gets home, barely tipsy, around 10:30 and sees Alexis asleep on the couch. Most of the blanket had fallen to the floor, Matthew quietly walks over to try and wake her up so she can go on home. He taps her on the arm, but she didn't budge. He looks Alexis over, admiring her young body, thinking how incredibly sexy she was. He notices her dress had risen up her thighs and her ass was visible. Matthew had seen Alexis' ass in jeans and shorts, so he had imagined how it must look but his imagination was no where near close to how bubbly and perky her ass really was. He puts his hand on her upper thigh, and starts to caress her and Alexis starts to wake up. "Oh hey... sorry I fell asleep... did you have a good night?" I say sleepily, not totally acknowledging Matthew's hand on me. "Yeah, it was okay. Drank a couple beers... I just got home a few minutes ago." he continues to lightly caress my thigh while talking to me. "Were the kids good for you? Did they give you trouble getting to bed?" By now, I've realized he was rubbing my leg so I slowly sat up and fixed my dress. But he puts his hand over my knee. "Yeah they were great, no trouble at all." He smiles, happy I didn't have any problems, continues to rub my knee, making his way slowly back to my thigh. I've got to stop this, I know he is buzzed, I can see it in his eyes. I can't let anything happen, no matter how fucking horny I am since I couldn't get myself off earlier. I stand up and walk to the kitchen, offering him some lasagna. He follows behind me, I feel his eyes on my ass though. I grab a plate and start putting some lasagna on it. I feel his hands grab a hold of my waist, I feel his warm breath close to my shoulder where my dress starts to cross over on my back. Matthew kisses my shoulder, shoulder blade, back, and makes his way around to the other shoulder while his hands are slowly going down my hips and he starts pushing my dress up some. Matthew steps closer to me, pushing his hard on against my ass. God he feels huge! As a normal reaction, I push my ass against his dick. He groans and leaves light feather kisses on my neck. I realized my hand had been roughly pulling my right nipple, I guess at some point my hand found its way to my breast. He hooks his thumbs under my boy shorts and starts to slide them down, slowly waiting for my rejection. But I stand there, partly frozen in shock because I didn't know what to do and partly because I didn't want this to stop. Matthew is so sexy for a 40 something year old, I've known this for a year now, I've fantasized about him hitting on me. But I always put it out of my mind, I didn't believe he'd give me the time of day. Something stops me in my thoughts, something wet and on my ass. "Oh my god, hes licking my ass cheeks." I thought. Kneading my ass and kissing, licking. He slides one hand up my back, lightly pushing me forward, to bend me over the counter. Then he moves my legs apart just a few more inches and I feel his tongue running up my inner thighs. "Mmm, Alexis, you're dripping. You're so wet and you taste so good." "Mmmngggg" I can't help but moan. Matthew is teasing me with his tongue on my thighs, completely avoiding my pussy. I start grinding, wanting, needing his tongue on me. But he stops, I feel him getting up. He puts his hands on my shoulder straps of the dress, gently slides them off. I wince at the slight pain I feel because of the damn sunburn. "Would you like for me to rub some aloe on your shoulders for you?" He whispers against my neck, softly leaving butterfly like kisses on my shoulder again. I nod, I just want to feel his hands on me some more. He grabs the cold bottle of Aloe out of the fridge and takes my hand in his, kisses the back of it smiling, and leads me to his bedroom. He unbuttons his blue shirt, showing his gorgeous fuzzy chest. I look him over, my eyes look down and I see his hard dick is straining against his jeans, he looks so uncomfortable. "Lay down on the bed." He says while squirting some aloe in his hands. So I lay down on his bed, facing away from the bathroom, adjust my dress so its off of my shoulders, he starts carefully rubbing the aloe on my shoulders and smearing it so it's blended and doesn't leave any clumps. When he's done, he kisses my neck again and says to let it dry and he'd be right back. I hear Matthew as he walks to the bathroom, to wash his hands off and then I hear a drawer open and close. He comes out and sees I haven't moved. I'm still facing the wall, dress barely covering my ass since I was laying down. I hear another drawer open, a zipper, and then the drawer closing. "What is he doing?" I think to myself. He walks around the bed and shows me whats in his hands, a rope. With a suggestive smile, he quietly asks me to let him tie my wrists up, I nod, only because I've never been tied up before and have always wanted to be. My pussy is tingling and it feels soaked when he finishes tying my wrists to his bed post. He walks around to the foot of the bed and slides my panties off, I can't see him, but I hear him sniffing them. Matthew comes back around and steps closer to me, bending over the bed smiling. He leans down and we share our first kiss. He lightly licks my lips, his tongue is asking to be let in, it makes me smile so my mouth opens slightly for him. His tongue is dancing with mine for a couple of minutes, but then he stops the kiss, leaving me wanting more and he's laughing a little. Matthew undoes his jeans and slides it down past his ass. Hes not wearing boxers, so his cock springs out begging for attention. I slide my knees up under me and scoot closer to him, my dress falls more off my shoulders, showing my tits. Matthew's cock is twitching just inches from my face. Hes not very thick, maybe about just 2 inches and roughly 7 inches long. I lean down and lick my lips ready to taste him. I get close to his cock and stick my tongue out, starting at the bottom of his shaft, working my way up slowly. I gently nibble along his hard dick and then run my tongue all over till its nice and wet...Matthew starts squirming with frustration and reaches out to wrap his hand in my hair, holding it for me. I start at the bottom again and lick my way up and get to the hole and stick my tongue in it, licking, still not sucking, loving to tease him. I continue this a couple of times and then I see pre cum start to leak out, I put my mouth over the head of his hard cock and lick it up, I slowly pull away and his dick seems to follow me, not wanting me to stop. I lean forward putting it in my mouth, start sucking just the head ever so lightly. Listening to Matthew moan out of pleasure, I slide his dick more into my mouth, taking it inch by inch. I hold it in my mouth for a second, wanting to feel it in my mouth. He leans over me and lifts my dress a little and starts to caress my ass. I feel Matthew lower his fingers and rub my soaked pussy, making me moan with his dick in my mouth. He slowly runs his fingers over my slit and back to my ass, rubs his soaked fingers, over my asshole and sticks a finger in and starts fucking my ass. I moan and really enjoy what he's doing, it makes me even more turned on so I start sucking his dick in and out of my mouth as if it were my pussy. He pulls his finger out and puts something else inside me, and it starts vibrating. "Holy fuckkk" I hissed, I've never had a vibrator in my ass, it was a whole new experience. I slide back up to the head and flick my tongue against his hard dick. Hes going crazy, waiting for me to take him in deeper. Matthew starts to caress my tits, playing and pulling my nipples roughly. I feel my pussy juice dripping down my legs. I slide his cock back in my mouth, sucking, taking him as deep as I can. I slide it out of my mouth just taking in the image of his shiny raging hard on, covered in my saliva, and loving every bit of it, I go back down and suck him good and hard. I'm moaning and feeling all the wild sensations in my ass. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum." Matthew says as he grabs a fistful of my hair and starts thrusting his cock in my mouth and I feel him start to twitch. Once I taste a bit in my mouth, I pull back and Matthew loosens his grip and then cums on my lips, chin, and my chest and I swallowed what had gone in my mouth. Matthew looks down at me in amazement and caresses my face. He sees I am getting close to my own orgasm because of the vibrator still in my ass. So Matthew comes around to the end of the bed and investigates my pussy. "Oh my sweet girl, you're making a mess with that beautiful pussy of yours." Matthew says. I can't help but groan, he leans down and places both hands on each of my ass cheeks to spread them a bit and he dives in and starts lapping up the juices dripping out of my pussy. "Unnnggg fuuuuuck." I cry out from feeling the sensation of the vibrations in my ass and his tongue on my pussy. He moves his tongue fast and soft in my tight hole and then he goes to suck on my pussy lips and then my clit. I start shaking and bury my face in a pillow to muffle my screams. I'm about to cum when he shoves a finger in my pussy and then two and starts fucking my pussy so damn good and flicking my clit so fast with his tongue and I start squirting all over his hand. He pulls his hand out and drinks up all of my cum as it starts spilling out of me. He's licking softly and slowly, sucking my juices out, cleaning my pussy with his tongue. He goes to take the vibrator out of my ass and I start trembling from being so sensitive and coming down from my orgasm. "That was the most incredible thing I have ever experienced." were the only words that I could form before I pass out from intense orgasm. I wake up shortly after, feeling myself being rolled over. I notice Matthew had untied my wrists and was rolling me onto my back. He looks at me with lust in his eyes. His hands slowly slides up my legs to my thighs, pushing my dress up some. He bends down and places gentle kisses around my pussy and then slowly starts to lick my lips and sticks his tongue in my hole, getting me wet again. My right hand is pulling on my right nipple and my other hand is in Matthew's hair, tugging and holding his head in place. I feel myself needing to cum again so I push my hips up arching my back, he grabs a hold of my thighs and lifts my ass up and starts licking and sucking. "Oh my godddd." I groan as I feel myself cumming again and he's lapping it all up. "God you taste so good Alexis. I could do this every night, all night." He says licking his lips, and sliding up to me. "I wish you could do it every night. You're incredible." I say to him smiling. I look down and see he's straining against his boxers. I sit up and bend over his lap, I let his cock out and put it back in my mouth. Loving the hardness on my tongue. I bob my head up and down a few times, sucking and Matthew pats my ass to stop. He tells me to get on my hands and knees. Matthew bends over and licks my pussy and and licks all the way up to my ass hole. He grips my ass cheeks with his hands and he starts squeezing and caressing, spreading my cheeks apart, while sticking his tongue in my ass. He slowly slides his cock against my pussy, rubbing it against the outside, just teasing me. While his cock is teasing my pussy, his thumb is teasing my ass, going in a circular motion. I'm about to have another orgasm and Matthew senses it, he slams his cock into my pussy. "Oh fuck!" I yell and start cumming all over his dick. He fucks my pussy hard, fast, and deep and when he sees I'm relaxing my muscles more, he stops using his thumb and sticks one of his thick fingers in my ass. Hes fucking me, and bends over over and licks my ass, while finger fucking me. I've never been double penetrated, I'm so turned on and start pushing my ass against him, meeting his every thrust. He starts slamming into my sopping wet pussy and shoves a second finger in my ass. "Unnnngg my goddddd." I groan and he yanks his dick out along with his fingers, and aligns his dick up with my ass. Slowly pushing it in, inch by inch. "Oooohhhh fuck yesssss" I hiss as he is pushing his hard dick another inch in me, almost half way in. I've been playing with butt plugs for a while now, but haven't been fucked in my ass yet. I hear him popping a lid and then he squirts something cold over his cock and he smears it with his hand over my ass too. Matthew reaches one hand under me, rubbing my clit and the other hand pulling on my nipple. He slowly continues to slide in my tight hole, with me grunting and hissing, until he is all the way in. Matthew stays still, but continues to play with me, till my ass adjusts to the intruder. His attention to my clit and tit is making me drip on the bed under me, I feel another orgasm building and I start humping his hand and grinding on his cock. He takes that as his cue to slowly slide out, but not completely, then pushes in without stopping. He does it again, but with more force this time. I start meeting his every thrust, while his fingers still rubbing my clit, and he moved his other hand to smack and squeeze my ass. My body starts to shake and his hand is getting soaked, knowing I'm close, he grabs the pillow and pushes it under my face and pushes me into it. I scream into the pillow as he continues to fuck my ass and rubs my clit fast and I start squirting all over his hand and bed again. As soon as my orgasm burst, he started shooting his cum deep into my ass. When Matthew finishes, he pulls out and asks for my phone. I told him it was on the night table beside him, asking why he wanted it. Then I hear a click sound, meaning he took a picture. He pushed me over so I was laying down on my side and he snuggles up behind me. He hands me my phone, showing me a picture he just took of my ass, with his cum being pushed out and dripping and the bed below me with a huge wet spot from where I squirt all over. I laughed, saying "I have only ever squirt once before, and it was 2 years ago. That was incredible!" Matthew looks at me smiling, leans over and kisses me on my temple. I look at my phone again and frown. "I should go, it's almost 3:30 in the morning." I say, not wanting to leave. Matthew kisses me and then says "Why don't you spend the night? Emily is visiting family for the weekend after her meeting, so she wont be home till Sunday evening." I think about it for a minute and nod saying "Okay, but I am going to sleep in the guest room so the kids don't catch us." He smiles, happy he convinced me to spend the night. I sit up and climb out of the bed. Bending over to pick up my dress and panties, Matthew smacks me on the ass and laughs as I walk out of the room and toward the guest room. I plug my phone in, send a quick email, then go to sleep. Matthew hears his phone go off, he checks it and smiles while looking at the picture he had taken of his cum dripping out of my ass he just finished fucking. He goes to sleep wondering what the morning will bring with his sexy new mistress.

This Saturday had been especially memorable. The air crisp and fresh. Ourselves were freshly charged with anticipation of the ride. We had food packed in our saddlebags intending to make a day of it. Our cabin was waiting for our return, inviting, luring us to enjoy it to the maximum. We had ridden our horses in the foothills of the Adirondack Mountains. Returning at dusk to unsaddle the mares as the sun was going down over the hills. What a majestic sight it was. We turned the horses into the corral and retreated to the cabin. The air was getting chilly, so we went out and picked up some kindling and some sizeable timber for a fire. You started the fire while I made a light meal and we sat to eat it. We were tired and slightly sore from the ride. I brought out my fat comforters and folded them, laying them near the fire hearth, placing our favorite blankets (velux) on top. Listening to the fire crackling was very inviting. I slipped out of my jeans and top and slid between the velux blankets in my thong and lacy bra. The smile widened across your face. The warmth of the fire was delicious. It wasn’t long and you were removing your own clothing to slip in the blankets along beside me. Snuggled between the blankets and wrapped in your loving arms, I could not think of anything more relaxing or more secure. I felt you slowly stroking my hair, relaxing me into a gentle sleep. Somewhere in that soft sleep, I awoke to feel you caressing my warm flesh, tenderly running your hands along and over my slumbering body. When I became conscience enough, I noticed a moist sensation between my legs and my nipples erect. It was obvious, that even in my sleep your skillful touches aroused me beyond any dream. I rolled myself against you and loved the way you pressed your own aroused cock into my hips. It was then that I knew I could not wait to feel you slide into me slowly and gently as you have done in the past. Tonight seemed slow and relaxed, nothing to rush, no beepers to answer, no phone, no children to worry about - just the two of us and no schedule to adhere to. My bra covered nipples straining against the sheer material, begging for the warmth of your hand and mouth. Silently you removed your underwear and mine. Gently you rolled me onto my back and began a very slow tongue bath, starting at my neck and carefully working your way all over my breasts, stomach and thighs; only to finally rest with your face placed snuggly between my legs. In no hurry, I felt you gently run your tongue along my freshly shaven lips, which were begging for more than just that. You felt it necessary to tease me, providing me intense pleasure. At last you begin to separate my pouting lips and caress my inner wetness with your entire mouth and tongue. My clit beginning to peak itself out from beneath it’s protective hood. I could feel the outer lips, now fully engorged, being sucked in one at a time and lovingly lapped at. Then your lips encompassed my swelling clit. I felt your teeth surround it and your tongue softly and swiftly rub it into hardness as your mouth and teeth softly tugged it in and out. I could feel myself reaching for an orgasm. You were so slow and deliberate with your oral manipulations so that I would build very slowly. Moments later I felt you place your finger at my slippery entrance. In one swift move I felt you slide it in and directly it went to my g-spot. Your tongue driving me wild, doubling the pleasure with your now buried finger massaging me in ways I have not known. You applied further pressure with your finger and remained constant with your delicious mouth. Out of nowhere, I felt my juices flow out of me and onto your hand. As I began to cum, you sucked my clit deep into your mouth; much the same as I would your cock, bringing me off in a slow, deep explosion. You were relentless, not allowing my orgasm to subside, making it continue on, by applying further pressure deep within and running your tongue in circles. My mind whirling and reeling. Somewhere in my throes of ecstasy, I asked you to make love to me. You shook your head, but I reached down and gently cupped your chin and pulled you upwards. Instantly, I kissed you deeply, enjoying my own sweetness on your mouth. I ensured that I got it all. Your hardness was delicious as I felt it upon my thigh. Again, I asked you to make love to me. We both wanted it and probably needed it as much. You separated my legs and proceeded to move into position, but would not enter me. No matter how much I struggled and moved, you held me away. I could see your face, struggling not to be with me; as you wanted it to, yet you wanted to be so in control. My own body wiggling and slithering, anxious for your final penetration. I asked you again to make love to me; but nothing would ready you enough, until nearly in tears, I was begging you. Slowly and deliberately, you raised my legs, pushing them back against my breasts and spreading them widely. Very, very slowly, I felt your hardness begin to push its way between my soaking pussy lips, deeper and deeper until your balls hit my rear. Then you carefully began your own lovers dance, with yourself so deep inside. Your kisses upon my breasts and nipples making your gentle strokes that much more intense. My clit already swollen from your wonderful oral pleasure, I knew it would not take long until I was once again cumming for you. Deliberately, you held me back from reaching my peak, not just once, but several times; knowing that this would only heighten my pleasures. My wetness running down the crack of my ass, arousing me further, especially as your balls slapped against me. Very slowly you withdrew and entered, many times, alternating nipping and biting on my erect nipples. My hips rocking and rolling beneath your pleasure drives. Finally I knew I was on the road to bliss. I squeezed you hard within me, milking your hearty cock, pulling your fat head deeper into me and then if felt the orgasm slowly build. The intensity was shocking and the length almost conquering. You kissed me deeply and held me tightly as I came and came again. Nearly spent, I knew I had yet to bring you to the delights you brought me. In an effort to show you that there are a great many ways to provide you pleasure. I rolled you onto your back and straddled your lap. I didn’t allow you to enter me, but I surely lathered your stiff cock with my freshly delivered pussy juices. I was ready for something new with you and thought I’d just give you a little surprise. My arousal was so evident that I knew I’d have no problems giving you a new delight. I wrapped my hand around your cock and placed it in position. Gradually I lowered myself onto your waiting head. I took my time and when you opened your eyes, you were buried deep in my ass. The tightness must have been incredibly good to you. Your eyes rolled back and closed as I began a rhythmic rocking motion. I leaned back and engulfed your heavy cum laden balls into my hand. I allowed my body weight to control the speed of my descent each time. Your moans made me well aware that this was a treat that you were going to remember for days to come. I could feel your cock begin to swell and thicken. I let go of your balls and placed my hand upon my soaked and swollen clit and began to rub it faster and faster until my explosion was just about there. My tempo picked up, quickening your breath and our desires, until I knew you were there. You reached and grabbed my hips, thrusting hard and fast into me. At about the same moment that your heavy semen splatted deep into my tight bowels, I came in a powerful jolt. I watched your handsome face as it contorted in wonderful pleasurable expressions. Once we both subsided, I slid beneath the blankets into your waiting arms, saying not one word. I looked into your delicious blue eyes and knew that you were more than satisfied. Once again, you began to caress my hair, in an expression of tenderness and satisfaction. Once again, I drifted off to sleep with my head against the nook of your shoulder. Good Night. There was a few reasons I liked to fly. The first was I liked the feeling of knowing I was so far up, and the second was the women. When you're in the air, it's as if all the rules of love and sex are still on the ground below you. As a business man who is always flying, I can personally confirm that fact. Flight attendants are the easiest to get into the bathroom. They've had a long day already, you go back to their station and start asking them about their job, maybe even rub their shoulders. They'll always give you what you want. My name is Mike, and I am a single guy looking for a good time. It's become a game really. How many women can I sleep with before my twelve hour flight is over? My record is five. I've been at this a long time, I know what I'm doing. When I see amateurs trying to get a women in the back and fail, I teach them a lesson by sleeping with the women they just failed to seduce properly. I remember once there was a goofball who tried to get the barely legal blonde sitting next to follow him to the back of the plane. She refused, but seconds later caught my eye. I gave her the signals, mouthed my intentions tastefully. Soon I gave her the final look that made her bend to my will, and she was following seconds behind me to the airplane bathrooms. It was a tight squeeze, but it was totally worth it. Trish was a yoga instructor, so she could bend in all kinds of ways. We began with lustful kisses, groping to touch every part of each other. I hoisted her onto the sink, careful not to turn the water on. Still kissing her, I managed to slip her out of her gym shorts and bright purple throng with one tug of my finger. Next was the shirt, which I pulled over her blonde head in one more swift motion. She wasn't wearing a bra. I smiled to myself. I kissed her again, my one hand drifting down her tanned back, while the other cupped her perky breast. She shuddered in pleasure as my thumb flicked her hard nipple. I kissed her neck as my first hand grabbed her tight ass. She was starting to breathe faster. My mouth found its way to her nipples, and she moaned as I started suckling and running my tongue over the erect nubs. I could feel her legs opening wider and wider as I squeezed and sucked until finally, she moaned the words I'd been waiting for. "Fuck me!" I unbuttoned my jeans and threw them down. My dick was already good to go, but I wanted something first. "Suck on it," I said in a gruff voice. She hesitated a second. "What?" She asked with a faint smile. I kissed her neck and said it again, "Suck my dick," I reached my hand between her legs and felt right at her entrance, just enough to make her want more. She was soaked, leaving the tips of my fingers coated in her juices. "And maybe if you do a good job," I continued as I lightly rubbed her swollen clit once, "I'll fuck you." She moaned and nodded. She was going to do whatever I wanted now. She got on her knees. She knew how to work her tongue, licking me every which way, giving me goose bumps along the way. I grabbed her by her blond hair and shoved y hard cock down her throat, and she took it. After a few minutes of pleasure for me and pulled her back to her feet and back onto the sink counter. Her little pussy was ready for me now, and she was begging for it. I rub the head of my cock on her tight entrance, she started to whimper a bit but I just laughed. "You should learn a little patience." I said; sliding my hand down her stomach I touches her clit again. She moaned as I rubbed and rubbed her little button until she was just about to climax. I felt her body tense and shake as I take my hand away. She seems confused at first, but a second later I'm ramming my cock into her pussy and she's gasping and moaning. I pound her harder and harder until again I can, again, feel her muscles tighten on her way to climax. I stop pounding her and pull her off the counter to turn her around. She puts her hands on the sink and grips it hard. I slid my dick back inside her for a minute while I spit on that virgin asshole she has. She seems to understand what I'm planning to do and whimpers for me not to. I fuck her a little harder and put more spit on her ass. "Don't worry," I say pulling my dick out and rubbing the tip on her asshole, "it won't hurt." She seems to protest at first but after a few strokes of her clit, she gives in. I spread her checks wide and spit one more time. I rub my finger on her asshole a few times before inserting it inside. She's so tight that my dick aches for her ass. She gasps but doesn't stop me again. Soon I'm fucking her ass with two fingers, then three. Then I rub the tip of my dick on her ass and barely stand going slowly as her ass take my dick. She moans, and after a while I'm pounding her little asshole harder than her pussy. She cums easily from her ass but I kept going even after she's cum. Her fist time anal fucking is something I want to remember for a while. She cums a second time. I go back to her pussy and fuck her hard while rubbing her clit. She cums a thirds time. By the time I came, she had cum four times. I took the purple thong as a souvenir and left her to freshen up.

There wasn't a cloud in the early spring sky and the groundskeepers had the grass long, thick and green in anticipation of the day's expected onslaught of 30,000 people. "What a perfect day for the Easter Egg Roll," Jake thought, as he and Catherine carefully made their way across the White House lawn. Jake had been apprehensive about Catherine's safety among the throngs of children and their parents swarming the grounds. But Catherine had insisted that she felt fine and that her pregnancy would not be a problem. Nevertheless, he kept his arm firmly wrapped around his wife's expanding waist and a sharp lookout for any overly excited youngster who might threaten to collide with her while searching for the gaily decorated eggs. "We've got our own egg incubating," Jake thought proudly. Suddenly there were shouts up ahead and the crowd began moving toward the source. Then the air was filled with cheers and laughter, and the mass of people parted to reveal Calvin Arthur "Call me Cap" Pressman, the President of the United States. The man _Time Magazine_ had dubbed "America's Top Salesman" in its Man-of-the-Year edition was decked out in a bunny costume, complete with a tail and long floppy ears. As Secret Service agents struggled unsuccessfully to keep the crowd back, the President waved at Jake and Catherine and yelled, "How's my favorite aide feeling today?" Catherine smiled broadly and gave him a thumbs-up. He grinned back at her and then proceeded to hop around in a circle to the delight of the children. Jake had to shake his head in admiration. "Only Cap Pressman could pull off something like that," he thought to himself. The President moved on through the crowd, and Jake noted with amusement that there were almost as many photographers as children in his wake. Jake smiled grudgingly: the man did indeed know how to create a photo-op for himself. Catherine spotted some other White House staffers she knew in the crowd, and she and Jake began to make their way in their direction. Suddenly she gave a sharp gasp and bent nearly double. Then she moaned and crumpled to the ground before Jake's terrified eyes. He quickly knelt at her side, trying to support her head. "What is it, honey? What's wrong?" he asked urgently, but Catherine seemed to be in so much pain that she couldn't even speak. To Jake's horror he spotted a dark red stain on the skirt of her Easter dress. In fear and anguish, Jake looked up and began to shout frantically, "We need help! We need a doctor!" The crowd that had formed around them suddenly seemed to part like the Red Sea before Moses, and the President himself was standing over them. The big man turned to a black-suited Secret Service agent and barked, "Get her to the helipad! Get Marine One and tell them I want her taken to Johns Hopkins. Do it now!" he commanded. As if by magic, three more agents seemed to materialize around Catherine. Brushing Jake aside they lifted her and began carrying her through the crowd at a trot, with Jake struggling to keep up. The dash across the South Lawn seemed to Jake to take forever, but in fact they made the distance in under three minutes, even with the throngs of people filling the lawn. The big Sikorsky Sea King's rotors were already spinning up, and the agents quickly bundled Catherine inside. As Jake ran to catch up, a strong hand reached out and yanked him bodily into the aircraft just as its wheels began to lift off the ground. He saw Catherine laid out across several seats, and he scrambled over to kneel beside her, holding her hand. The roar of the engine subsided once the door was closed, but there was still a roaring in Jake's ears. As he held Catherine's hand, he glanced out the window once and saw rooftops and buildings he didn't recognize streaming underneath him in a dizzying fashion. Once again the trip seemed to Jake to take forever, but suddenly Marine One was hovering over the helipad on the roof of the Brady Building of Johns Hopkins Hospital. A team with a gurney was waiting, and as soon as the big helicopter touched down they quickly whisked Catherine off the helipad and across the ramp to the other building where an elevator was waiting. Jake tried to go after her, but the EMTs moved so quickly that he was left behind. After agonizing minutes on the rooftop, the elevator returned and a staffer from the hospital emerged to guide Jake to the correct floor and through a maze of corridors to a waiting room. For the next two hours, Jake alternately sat and paced around the waiting room. Finally, a white-jacketed figure came to the reception desk and said in a loud voice, "Phillips, Mr. Jacob Phillips?" Jake stood up and hurried over to the woman's side. "How is she?" he asked frantically. The doctor calmly led him down the corridor away from the waiting room so they could have a little more privacy. "Mr. Phillips, I'm Doctor Nancy Liu, Catherine's OB/GYN. Your wife is out of danger," she said gently. "We're going to keep her overnight for observation, but unless something unexpected happens, you should be able to take her home in the morning." Jake expelled the lungful of air he'd been holding, and tears of gratitude came to his eyes. But his relief was short-lived. "The baby, doctor, what about the baby?" The doctor looked at him without expression. "I'm sorry, Mr. Phillips, but your wife suffered a miscarriage. She lost the baby." Jake felt as though he'd been stabbed in the chest. "Oh, God, why? Why did this happen?" The doctor looked at him sympathetically. "Mr. Phillips, it's important for you to understand that neither you nor your wife did anything wrong. Actually, between 15% and 20% of all pregnancies end in miscarriage, and that's if the woman knows she is pregnant. An even larger percentage of mothers have spontaneous miscarriages without ever realizing they're pregnant." She patted Jake's arm. "The most important thing to focus on is that there's nothing to prevent you and your wife from trying to conceive again. Lots of women who have miscarriages go on to become pregnant again and deliver healthy, normal babies. This isn't the end of the world." Jake nodded, still distraught at the loss of their baby but somewhat consoled by the doctor's words. "What about Catherine? Can I see her?" "We gave her something to make her sleep, but you can go look in on her if you'd like." Jake followed the doctor to Catherine's room and cautiously poked his head around the door. When he spotted his wife sleeping, he tiptoed to her side. Her face looked drawn, but to Jake she was the most beautiful woman in the world. He kissed her forehead. "I love you, honey. We'll get through this," he whispered. Then he turned and left. When he got finally back to their home in Falls Church, it was dark. Even though he'd had nothing to eat since breakfast, Jake couldn't face the thought of food. Instead, he went out on their deck and slumped into an armchair to stare out into the gloom. Now that he knew Catherine was safe and in good hands, his own pain came back, along with a flood of memories. Jake had wanted a child for a long time, actually even longer than Catherine had. She felt strongly that they should both establish their careers before starting a family. When she had finally agreed that the time was right, she had not gotten pregnant right away. Doctors had proclaimed them both healthy and fully capable of having children. Patience and lots of practice were the only prescriptions they gave the young couple. Now, after lightning had finally struck and Catherine had gotten pregnant, this had to happen! As the night air grew colder, Jake began to think back to when he and Catherine had met. He'd just gotten his law degree from the University of Nebraska, but rather than tie himself down at a law firm Jake had decided to try out the political process. He had no interest in running for office himself but he wanted to work for a candidate and try to make a difference. The candidate he chose was an exciting up-and-comer from Oklahoma named Cap Pressman. What impressed Jake about Pressman was the way the candidate mixed a populist agenda with political pragmatism. Cap seemed to have a knack for bringing political opponents together to fashion compromises that were acceptable to both sides. The fact that Cap was also young and from another prairie state was enough to seal the deal for Jake. Pressman had just launched his bid for his party's nomination when Jake showed up at the Oklahoma City campaign headquarters to volunteer. When he asked a college student who was in charge, the young man jerked a thumb toward a glass-walled office in the middle of a confused jumble of workers, wall posters, telephone banks and other campaign paraphernalia. Standing in the middle of the office was a blonde-haired young woman talking emphatically on a telephone. Jake stared at her in wonder: she was no fashion model, but he thought she was the most attractive woman he'd ever seen. He'd made his way over to the office and waited at the door until she got off the phone and spotted him standing there. "Well, who are you and what do you want?" she demanded. "I'm Jake Phillips," he stammered, "and I'm here to volunteer." "Good," she said, and snatched up a sheet of paper off her desk to hand to him. "Here's a list of 50 potential donors. Call them and ask them for the amount shown beside each name. And don't take no for an answer." As he stood there staring at her in awe, she impatiently waved the sheet in his face. "Well, get going!" He blushed, took the sheet from her and went over to the bank of telephones to begin making calls. Later that night when things had calmed down, he returned to the office. The young woman had kicked off her shoes and was sitting with her feet propped up on the desk, obviously exhausted. Jake thought she looked even more attractive than his first glimpse of her. She felt his presence and gazed up at him in annoyance. "Well, did you call all those donors?" she demanded. "Yes," Jake confirmed, "and I got some good commitments out of them too." The woman's face relaxed. "Good job," she said as though to a child. "If you can come back tomorrow we've got plenty more calls that need to be made." Jake cleared his throat nervously. "Actually, I was hoping to do something a little more substantial for the campaign." She looked at him suspiciously. "Well, what do you think you're qualified to do?" "Well, I'm an attorney-at-law," he said. The woman jumped to her feet and looked at Jake in embarrassment. "Omigod, why didn't you say so? We need legal counsel desperately. Come sit down and tell me about yourself." And that was the start of their relationship. Catherine, who had started working with Pressman back when he'd been a U.S. representative from Oklahoma, began to take on a greater role in the campaign, and so did Jake. At first Catherine had insisted on keeping her relationship with Jake strictly professional. That had been a painful period for Jake. But things had gotten better after Pressman came home to Oklahoma on a campaign swing and made a point of meeting "the attorney that Catherine's been talking about so much." With his folksy style and forceful personality, Pressman solidified Jake's support and increased his loyalty. Jake, in turn, must have made a favorable impression, because afterwards Catherine let Jake know how impressed Pressman had been with their meeting. After that, Catherine seemed to warm to Jake, and they began seeing each other outside of work almost immediately. They had wound up getting married shortly after the national election. After the fact, the Pressman primary campaign had become a case study for political scientists. Coming from a state with meager clout in Congress, Pressman had little national recognition when he launched his candidacy. His showing in the Iowa and New Hampshire primaries was poor, and the pundits all expected him to withdraw from the race. But he did much better in the Colorado and Minnesota caucuses, and then began to pick up real momentum in the Southern states. It was nip and tuck for a while, but impressive wins in the New England states put him in the driver's seat. When he won the California primary handily, the nomination was his. Pressman's strength in New England was no accident. At Yale Law School he had met and successfully wooed Savannah Hamilton, who was not only a descendent of Alexander Hamilton but also the daughter of Horatio Hamilton, the senior senator from Massachusetts. One observer called their marriage "less a love connection than a union of political dynasties." In any case, there was no doubt that the Senator's influence had played a major role in winning Pressman the nomination. By contrast, the national election had been a walk-over. The opposition candidate had been Vice President in the last administration. A long-time politician, the Veep had lots of connections but only limited skills on the campaign trail. The photogenic Cap Pressman had won the electorate over with his humor, personal charm and indefatigable energy. The final electoral vote was the second most lopsided in history. There was no question that Jake and Catherine would go to Washington to be part of the administration. Jake had even wondered if his wife might possibly be tapped for a cabinet position, but she wanted no part of that scene. Instead, she became one of Pressman's closest aides, someone he relied upon to work loyally behind the scenes so Pressman's star could shine ever brighter. It was a role she loved. Jake chose not to enter the administration, opting instead for a job with a major D.C.-area law firm. "One of us has to make some money and live a normal life," he told Catherine with a smile. And though he didn't say it to her, by that time Jake had become a little leery of the absolute loyalty that Pressman expected of his people. Cap might believe in the art of compromise but he was not kindly disposed to dissenting opinions within his administration. Jake voted for Pressman's reelection to a second term, but he no longer idolized the man the way he once did. Suddenly Jake shivered, which woke from his reverie. A glance at the thermometer on the back deck showed the temperature had fallen into the 40's while he'd been sitting there reminiscing. "Spring nights in Washington can still get pretty cold," he reminded himself as he went back inside. Soon after he climbed into bed, setting the alarm so he'd awaken early enough to get to Baltimore and Hopkins in plenty of time the next day. When he got to Catherine's room the next morning, he found her awake and sitting up in bed, her face highlighted by the bright April sunlight. But her expression was downcast and her eyes revealed the emotional pain of the loss of the baby. Jake rushed to her and clasped her tightly to him, but she returned his embrace weakly. Her lack of warmth was painful, but Jake reminded himself that whatever pain he was feeling must be that much greater for Catherine. Trying to engage her, he pointed to the enormous arrangement of flowers that dominated one whole corner of the room. "Those are beautiful. Where did they come from?" he asked. "The White House," was all Catherine replied, so Jake went over to look at the card. The flowers were indeed from the President and First Lady, both of whom had personally signed their best wishes for Catherine's speedy recovery. When Jake had called the hospital to be sure he could bring Catherine home, the nurse had advised him to bring a change of clothing for his wife. Now, when Jake handed the bag to her, she asked him to step out of the room while she changed. Her request stung Jake, but he complied without complaint. Stepping outside the room, he again encountered Catherine's OB/GYN making her rounds. "Your wife is recovering well," Doctor Liu reassured him, "but there are several things you need to understand. Losing a baby is not only emotionally but also physically traumatic for a woman. When she became pregnant, Catherine's body initiated a complex series of hormonal changes to prepare for gestation, delivery and breast-feeding. Those changes were halted precipitously by the miscarriage and must now begin to reverse themselves. That process, combined with all the emotions she is undergoing, will make this a challenging period for her. I would caution you to be as patient and supportive as possible over the next couple of weeks, because your wife will need it. "The good news is that most women readjust physically pretty quickly. The emotional side, however, may take longer. In these cases, time is the best healer, and I'd expected her mood and general outlook to improve noticeably before too long. If they don't, there are medications I can prescribe that can facilitate her return to a more normal state of mind." The doctor tiredly pushed her graying bangs back from her forehead and looked carefully at Jake. "Your wife really needs you. You're going to need to be patient and caring, now more than ever." As he drove Catherine home, the doctor's words kept coming to him, and he vowed to do everything in his power to help his wife heal. The days that followed were some of the most difficult Jake had ever experienced. He still had to deal with his own sorrow over the loss of their unborn child, but his natural optimism helped buoy him. He seized on the hope that he and Catherine might try again and, with any luck, be more fortunate the next time. Catherine, however, was a different matter. She spent most of the next few days at home in her room, venturing out only when absolutely necessary, and when she did, she hardly spoke to Jake. After a week she claimed to have fully regained her health and insisted on returning to work. But emotionally it was a different story. She performed all her personal and occupational functions normally, but she showed virtually no emotion while doing so. She continued to spend long periods in solitary contemplation, and she shrank from his touch any time Jake tried to hold or caress her. As his own sadness healed, Jake's concern for his wife continued to mount. It was as if the woman he loved had been replaced by a stranger: impenetrable, unemotional and without affection. He grew increasingly anxious and reached out to their friends, asking for their suggestions and recommendations. All of them agreed that Catherine was showing symptoms of depression; all reassured him that patience and loving care were his best courses of action. The continued loss of closeness and emotional connection took an increasing toll on Jake, and after two months had passed the lack of sexual relations also began to weigh heavily. One night he gingerly broached the subject of resuming their sex life - to disastrous results. Catherine stared at him in shock and burst out, "If I never have sex with you again as long as I live, I'll die a happy woman!" Then she burst into tears and rushed off to their room, slamming the door and locking it. On an intellectual level, Jake knew that she hadn't meant what she'd said, but her words still hurt him. As he lay on the couch that night unable to sleep, he couldn't help thinking about their sex life together. Catherine had never been a very passionate woman; Jake's libido had always been stronger than hers. He had found her lower level of desire disappointing, but he loved her so much that he had been willing to accept her as she was. If nothing else, when they did make love the experience for Jake was almost mind-blowing. The other thing he'd discovered about Catherine was that, unlike the women he'd known before her, she wasn't very interested in foreplay. She didn't mind having her breasts kissed and caressed, but she didn't like him to kiss between her thighs or to finger her. Whenever he tried to slip his fingers into her, she'd gently push them away, saying "You've got something much better that was designed for that purpose." He certainly hadn't minded accommodating her, even though he found her response odd. All this thinking about sex only served to make Jake more frustrated than ever, and he decided that he had to take action. After a lot of thought he made up his mind to try to get an appointment with Catherine's doctor and ask her for help. The next morning he called Dr. Liu's office and asked for an appointment. He was pleasantly surprised when the nurse came back on the line and told him the doctor could see him late that afternoon. When he saw Doctor Liu, Jake wasted no time in laying out the situation with his wife as he saw it, describing a litany of issues and symptoms he'd witnessed. The doctor nodded as she listened, and when Jake had finished, she told him that Catherine's symptoms, while not unprecedented, were on the more extreme end of typical post-miscarriage reactions. "It sounds to me like Catherine may be suffering from post-partum depression," she told Jake. When he looked confused, she explained, "You're used to hearing that term in conjunction with mothers who carry their baby to full term and then suffer depression after delivery. But it can also occur with women who miscarry, and the symptoms they experience can be just as severe. Under the circumstances, I'm going to prescribe Prozac for her. I like it because it seems to work more quickly for patients suffering from PPD than some of the newer antidepressants." As she was writing out the prescription, Jake's long-suppressed sense of loss seemed to well up within him and he burst out, "I still don't understand how we could have lost the baby! We're both healthy, we ate the right foods, Catherine was careful to avoid alcohol and medications. What went wrong?" Doctor Liu looked up at him compassionately. "It's so difficult to know in cases like these, Mr. Phillips. It could have been a chromosomal abnormality or an inappropriate immunological response, your wife's abortion could have been a factor, or some undetected..." "Wait a minute!" Jake interrupted. "My wife's abortion? Catherine never had an abortion." "Of course she did. Here it is," the doctor said, flipping through the file on her desk, "she had a suction aspiration in February two years ago." "I never knew anything about an abortion! Let me see that!" Jake demanded, reaching across the doctor's desk. Doctor Liu snatched the file out of his grasp and quickly closed it. "I'm sorry, Mr. Phillips, but the privacy regulations of the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act absolutely prevent me from sharing Catherine's medical record with you or anyone else without her express written permission." "But I'm her husband!" Jake roared. "It was my baby that was aborted!" "I'm sorry, Mr. Phillips, but my hands are tied." As Jake drove home from Baltimore, he was upset and disturbed. Every thought led to more and more questions. "How could Catherine have had an abortion without my knowing? Why would she do that when we were trying so hard to have a child? Why did she keep it from me? If she hadn't had one, would I be a father already?" When he arrived at their bungalow, he found that he had beaten Catherine home. Always something of a workaholic, Catherine had been keeping longer and longer hours ever since her miscarriage, and now Jake wondered if she was purposely trying to avoid him. By the time he heard her car pull in the driveway, it was almost 8:00 p.m. He'd been stewing all afternoon about what he'd learned at Dr. Liu's office, and by now he was quite upset. When Catherine came through the door, he confronted her immediately. "Why did you have an abortion two years ago?" he demanded. Catherine's eyes widened and her face grew red. "What? I never had an abortion! Who told you that?" she yelled. Jake was surprised but he refused to back down. "I went to see Dr. Liu today - she told me!" "She's lying!" Catherine shouted. "It's not true!" Then she ran back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her and locking it. When he followed her, Jake could hear her sobs through the door. He returned to the den and slumped to the couch, holding his head in his hand. "What in the world is going on?" he asked himself in dismay. Catherine did not come out their room for the rest of the evening, and the door remained locked the next morning as well, so Jake had to go to work in the same clothes. Fortunately he kept a toothbrush and razor at his office so he managed to make himself look presentable. But his outward appearance belied his emotional state, and he got very little work accomplished. At day's end he headed home warily, uncertain what he might find waiting for him in his once happy home. But to his surprise, Catherine was already there, and she greeted him civilly as though nothing had happened. They ate a light supper together, but Jake could feel the acid building up in his stomach. Finally, when he felt he could stand it no longer, he cautiously ventured, "Honey, we have to talk..." "There's nothing to talk about," Catherine interrupted him calmly. "I did not have an abortion, and that's all there is to it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some work I need to catch up on." With that she got up from the table, leaving Jake sitting there in stunned silence. Over the next two days, Jake tried twice more to bring up the subject only to hear the exact same response: there was no abortion. Finally, he decided to try a different approach with his wife. "Honey," he ventured over dinner, "I know you've been terribly depressed about the miscarriage. When I saw Dr. Liu, she gave me a prescription that she said might help." When he handed it to her, she took the slip and then looked at him blandly. "Thank you, Jacob, but it won't be necessary. I've completely recovered from my depression." With that she tore up the prescription, threw the pieces in the trash and then went off to the den to do some reading. While Catherine slept beside him later that night, Jake lay there in a quandary. "What do I do now?" he kept asking himself, but he couldn't come up with any answers. He realized that he felt lower now than the day they'd lost the baby. When Jake checked the mirror the next morning, dark circles under his eyes clearly testified to how little sleep he'd managed. Nevertheless he forced himself to get dressed and go into work, if for no other reason than there was nothing else he could think of to do with himself. He ate a sandwich at his desk at noon, but afterwards couldn't remember what kind it was. Later, his self-pitying reverie was interrupted by his secretary, who informed him he had a visitor from the White House. Surprised, he bade her show the guest in, and then he arose and stood waiting behind his desk, wondering who had come to see him and why. When his secretary returned, she was accompanied by an attractive woman who appeared to be Jake's age. She was of medium height with dark, close-cropped hair. She wore a stylish pants suit, and Jake couldn't help noting that she looked extremely fit. The woman stepped forward and introduced herself. "My name is Helen Simmons," she said, extending her hand to Jake. "I'm with the U.S. Secret Service." Jake motioned her to be seated and then asked politely but curiously, "What can I do for you, Ms. Simmons?" "Mr. Phillips, I am assigned to the First Lady and I am here on her behalf. Mrs. Pressman would like to meet with you today, if possible." Jake was so startled that he rudely blurted out, "Why would the First Lady want to see me?" The agent smiled and replied, "That would be for the First Lady to say, Sir, not me." Jake looked at her cautiously. "When would she like this meeting to take place?" The agent smiled again and said, "Now, if at all possible, Sir, or as soon as you can make yourself available. I've been asked to wait for you and to drive you to the White House." Jake was taken aback by this strange development, but he decided that he had nothing to gain by not cooperating so he indicated his willingness to accompany the Secret Service agent. After telling his secretary where he was going - and watching her eyes widen at the mention of the White House - Jake was escorted down to the sidewalk, where a black Escalade was parked. Agent Simmons climbed behind the wheel and beckoned Jake to take the shotgun seat. As they made their way slowly through the D.C. traffic, the agent glanced over at Jake and said, "Please let me express my condolences on the loss of your child." Surprised, Jake thanked her and then asked, "So you know about that?" "Yes sir, I was on duty on Easter Monday. I was one of the agents who carried your wife to the helicopter." "Oh, I didn't know," Jake said awkwardly. "I mean, I wasn't really paying attention to anything else. In any case, thank you for all you did to help us." "That's alright, Sir," she said, "that's my job," she said in a professional voice. Then she glanced over at Jake and added, "Besides, I hope to be a mother someday too," "Got a husband?" Jake asked, then wondered if he'd said the wrong thing. But the agent smiled at him and shook her head. "No, still looking. I thought I'd found a good one once, but he turned out to be a player. But that's okay, I'll get lucky one day." Just then they turned onto East Executive Avenue and, after Agent Simmons showed her credentials at the gate, were permitted to drive up to the entrance at the East Wing. Simmons led Jake upstairs to the second floor, where the First Lady had her suite of offices. When they reached the anteroom, Agent Simmons knocked lightly on the door and then ushered Jake in. There he found the First Lady writing at her desk. She arose and stepped around it to shake his hand. "Mrs. Pressman," he said, giving the slightest of bows. She smiled graciously and led him over to the sofa and chairs on one side of the office area. "We can talk more comfortably over here," she told him. When they were seated, her expression became more solemn. "How is your wife, Mr. Phillips?" she asked gently. "Has she recovered from her loss?" Jake hesitated, unsure of how to respond given everything that had transpired. Finally he took the easy way out and said, "She's doing as well as can be expected, Ma'am. Thank you for asking." The First Lady nodded, then looked at Jake carefully. "And how about you, Jake, how are you doing?" To his surprise, Jake felt his throat tightening, and he tried to disguise it with a little cough. "It hasn't been easy, Ma'am. I really wanted to be a daddy." She reached over to pat his hand. "Men are always supposed to be strong and silent; it's easy to forget that they have feelings too." Jake nodded gratefully, unsure of what to say. She gestured at the coffee set on the table before them and asked Jake if he would join her in having a cup. He accepted, grateful to have something to do with his hands. After pouring for the two of them, Mrs. Pressman took a sip and then, looking over the rim of her cup, asked Jake, "So, what do you think of my husband?" Jake froze with his cup half-way between the saucer and his mouth, desperately trying to think of how to answer. Finally he chose a cautious reply. "Well, you know that I was a volunteer in his initial run for the presidency," he said. The First Lady stared at him fixedly. "Yes, and I you were not a volunteer in his re-election campaign. In any case, you haven't really answered my question." Jake took a sip from his cup to give him more time to try to formulate an answer, but he still felt uncertain of what to say. Finally he decided on candor. "The worst she could do," he figured, "is to ask me to leave." "The President has made some remarkable accomplishments, Mrs. Pressman," he said. "He broke through the budget deadlock in Congress when no one thought it was possible, and I thought he handled the crisis in Southeast Asia very well." Mrs. Pressman listened attentively. "But?" she prompted. Jake sighed to himself. "But, I'm concerned that everything these days seems to be about Cap Pressman, not the nation. It seems to me he's acting more like a king than a president, like he's promoting a cult of personality. There's even a move to repeal the 22nd Amendment so that he could serve another term, and the word is that the President is pushing it behind the scenes. All that makes me uneasy." He put his cup down and sat back to await his fate. "Very interesting," his hostess replied. She took another sip of her coffee and then regarded him again. "What are your thoughts on marriage, Jake? Do you agree with the growing number of young people who seem to want to live together forever without benefit of matrimony? And for those who do marry, what about this trend of seeking relationships outside the marriage?" Jake was startled by the abrupt change in topics, but this time he had no hesitation in responding. "Mrs. Pressman, I guess I'm old-fashioned in that regard. I think people who live together for years without getting married are afraid of making a commitment, and I think commitment is essential for a successful relationship, especially if a couple plans to have children. And as for all those "have-an-affair" services out there, I think they're pretty sleazy." She sat her cup down and stared at him intently. "Have you ever been unfaithful to Catherine, Jake?" He was clearly offended. "No, Ma'am, I have not and will not - ever." "So you've never even been tempted?" "I can't say that, Ma'am, but there's a big difference between being tempted and acting on temptation." She looked at him for a long moment, then stood up suddenly. As he hastened to follow her lead, she extended her hand to him. "You're a good man, Jake Phillips. I've enjoyed getting to know you a little better. Unfortunately, I have another appointment, but I hope we'll have the chance to chat again." As he shook her hand, Helen Simmons reappeared as if by magic. As she began escorting Jake to the door, Mrs. Pressman stopped them. "Jake, take care of yourself, will you?" He smiled. "Yes Ma'am, I will. And thank you." With that, Agent Simmons escorted Jake out of the White House to the waiting car. Jake kept silent until they were out on the street. Then he turned to the woman and asked, "Were you listening to that whole conversation?" She smiled. "Yes, Mrs. Pressman likes me to keep an ear as well as an eye on her. She feels safer that way." "Well, all I can say is that was the damndest conversation I've ever had. I don't have any idea why she wanted to see me," Jake said in frustration. Helen glanced over at him. "In my experience, Mrs. Pressman is a pretty sharp judge of character, but she likes to form her opinions from her own observations. I have no idea why she wants to know more about you, but I'd say you passed the test, whatever it is." Jake just shook his head in confusion. First the miscarriage, then Catherine's depression, the startling revelation from her doctor, and now a summons from the First Lady: he felt as though his life had suddenly jumped the tracks from the careful course he'd set, and now he seemed to have no control over where he was headed or what might happen next. That evening he told Catherine about his visit to the White House, and he was gratified to see her take an interest in what had happened. She wanted to know what the First Lady had said and why she had wanted to see Jake, but he could provide no answers on the latter topic, and Catherine was just as bemused as he. Seeing Catherine more animated than in recent times, Jake gently tried to broach the subject of what had happened two years ago. But the minute he raised the topic, she fell back into adamant denial that such a thing had ever happened, and her mood reverted to barely repressed hostility. Seeing that nothing further was to be gained, Jake went off to the den and tried to review some work that he'd brought home with him. But with all the questions swirling through his head, concentration was impossible. Finally he decided that he had to go back and confront Dr. Liu again. Even if she wouldn't show him Catherine's file, at least he thought he might get her professional opinion on Catherine's denials. The next morning Jake headed off to the office at the usual hour, but after checking in with his secretary he got back in his car and headed over to Baltimore and Johns Hopkins. Traffic was especially heavy, and he decided that there must be a traffic accident up ahead when he spotted a police helicopter flying above the line of cars. Accordingly, he turned off the highway and took an alternate route using side streets. When he got to Johns Hopkins, he went directly to Dr. Liu's office, but when he asked to see her, the receptionist looked at him in confusion. "Did you have an appointment with her, sir?" she asked. "No, my wife is a patient of hers. I was hoping she could spare a little time to see me." "But she's not here," the young woman protested. "Well, when will she be back? If it's not too long, maybe I can just wait for her," Jake replied. "Actually, we don't know when she'll be back," the receptionist said apologetically. "Dr. Liu has taken a sabbatical. I think she's gone to China, but I don't really know for sure. We've just been told to cancel any existing appointments and not to make any new ones until we hear further from her." Jake thanked the young woman and reluctantly turned to leave. "What do I do now?" he asked himself in despair. He felt as though every possible avenue had been closed to him, and he was trapped in a limbo of ignorance and misery. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he gave no thought to his route and jumped on 295 as he would normally to get back to Washington. When he spotted another police helicopter overhead, he remembered the reason he'd

made his earlier detour. But this time, even though the helicopter seemed to keep pace with him he encountered no signs of an accident. "He must be looking for someone," Jake thought as he pulled back into the garage at his office. Later that afternoon, Jake was interrupted when his smartphone signaled him that he had an incoming text message. To his surprise, it was from the First Lady: > Urgent that we meet privately tonight. Come to Good Hope Road and 16th > Street at 8:00 p.m. If I'm late, wait for me. SHP "What in the world is that all about?" Jake asked himself. "Why would Mrs. Pressman want to see me again, and why all the secrecy? What's going on?" Nevertheless, he sent back a confirming reply. Then he tried to phone Catherine to let her know he'd be late, but he only got her voice mail so he left a message omitting any details. Then he tried to keep his mind occupied by dealing with the work that had piled up during his absence, drinking several cups of coffee at his desk to help stave off hunger. When it was time to head to his mysterious appointment, Jake went down to the garage and programmed the location he'd been given into the GPS unit of his BMW. As he drove, his mind filled with speculation about why the First Lady might want to see him under such mysterious circumstances. The more he thought about it the less he was able to conceive of any good reason. Abruptly he looked around and took stock of his location. The GPS unit was taking him into the heart of Anacostia, one of the most dubious neighborhoods in the District. "Why in the hell would Mrs. Pressman pick a spot like this for a meeting?" he asked, but he dutifully continued till he came to the intersection. The intersection of Sixteenth Avenue and Good Hope Road is offset, and Jake wasn't sure on which corner he was supposed to wait. He settled for parking on Good Hope in front of several darkened buildings. By that hour it was dark, and the few working streetlights gave only limited illumination. Jake felt extremely vulnerable sitting in a parked car in that neighborhood, so he left the engine running and kept the doors locked. Every few minutes a car would pass through the intersection, but none of them stopped or even slowed down. Otherwise, the streets seemed deserted. There was no sound except the distant hum from a propeller-driven airplane. Checking his watch he asked himself, "How long do I have to wait?" But he knew that he wasn't going to bail out on the First Lady, even though it was past the appointed time. As he sat there, Jake became increasingly aware of just how much coffee he had consumed, and soon he was squirming uncomfortably on the seat. Glancing around he saw no place that might have a public restroom, so he determined to tough it out. But only a minute later he realized that waiting was no longer an option; unless he wanted to meet the President's wife with soaked trousers, he had to go now. Cursing, he jumped out of the car and walked half bent over to an alley between two rundown buildings. He found a spot in the dark shadows behind a mound of garbage bags, unzipped and began to relieve himself. "I'm as bad as some damned wino!" he cursed himself, looking around to make sure no one was watching. Just as he was finishing, a shadowy figure darted across the street and opened the door to Jake's car. In an instant the man had jumped behind the wheel and started up the engine. "Hey!" Jake yelled, hastily zipping his pants up, "Get out of my car!" As his BMW started to pull away from the curb, Jake turned to run after it, but he got no more than a step or two before a body hurtled into him, knocking him back into the stack of garbage bags. Jake struggled to shove the body off of him only to recoil in surprise when his hands encountered a woman's breast. Before he could say a word, a hand covered his mouth and a feminine voice whispered in his ear, "Keep down and be quiet." When the woman relaxed her hand, Jake hissed, "My car, he's stealing my car!" "Forget your car," he heard. "Unless I miss my guess..." Whatever she was about to say was cut off by a whooshing roar accompanied by a streak of light that arrowed straight into the driver's side of Jake's car. There was a tremendous explosion and the woman threw her body on top of Jake. Even with her form in the way he felt the blast pass through him, followed immediately by a wave of intense heat. A large chunk of metal flew over his head and bounced off the brick wall just above them. When the noise had subsided, Jake fought to raise his head, and when he did he could see there was little left of his car but burning wreckage. As he stared in amazement, he saw a flaming tire rolling away down Good Hope Road. Jake was in shock but the woman who had tackled him moved with a purpose. She grabbed the large metal fragment and tucked it under her arm. Then she turned and began tugging on Jake. "Come on," she said urgently, "follow me. Keep in the shadows as much as possible. I don't think they can use infrared after that explosion, so we should be OK." "Wait, where are we going? What's happening?" "There's no time to explain now - that damned thing is still up there. Besides, they'll probably have a team on site shortly to confirm the kill." In a daze, Jake followed the woman down the alley past several buildings until they came to U Street. The woman pulled him into a car parked there, and once he was belted in, sped off without turning on her headlamps. By the light from street lights rushing by, Jake was able to recognize the woman as Helen Simmons. As his shock slowly subsided it was replaced by anger. "What the fuck was that?" Jake demanded. Helen kept her eyes on the road, occasionally peering up through the windshield to try to catch a glimpse of the sky. "I'd say that was a Hellfire missile fired from a Predator drone: laser-guided, probably a 20-pound HEAT round. You ought to feel complimented: they brought out the big stuff for you!" As he replayed everything that had just taken place, Jake eyes suddenly widened. "What about that poor bastard who was making off with my car?" he asked. Helen gave a shrug of her shoulders. "One less D.C. car thief," she quipped. Then, glancing over and seeing the look on Jake's face, she apologized. "Sorry to sound so flippant. This is some pretty heavy shit, and I'm just as shook up as you are." Jake was not to be appeased. "That's easy for you to say. It was your boss who set me up to be killed tonight!" Helen slammed on the brakes and yanked the car over to the curb. Angrily she turned to face Jake. "Mrs. Pressman had absolutely nothing to do with any of this. That text you got did not come from her." Seeing the disbelief on his face, she continued, "Come on, Jake, whoever heard of the First Lady setting up a meeting like that? She never sends text messages. Hell, I don't think she even knows how." When Jake dropped his eyes, she started the car up again and continued on. Suddenly, Jake's head shot up again and he turned to look at the agent. "Wait a minute, what were you doing in that alley in the first place? Were you following me?" Helen nodded. "Actually, I've been following you for several days now. Mrs. Pressman asked me to keep an eye on you." "Really? I never saw you," he said in surprise. She grinned. "I didn't want you to see me." Jake wasn't satisfied. "What about that helicopter I saw the other day? Was that you?" The smile disappeared from the agent's lips. "I wasn't the only one following you, Jake." The adrenaline rush began to wear off, and Jake slumped back in his seat, shivering slightly. "I don't know what's going on any more, Helen," he said softly. "My life has gone crazy and I don't know why any of it's happening." She looked over at him and stretched out her hand to squeeze his arm. "I don't know either, Jake, but I think I can take you somewhere safe where we can try to figure things out." After a few more minutes, Helen pulled the car onto Foxhall Road just north of Georgetown. When she came to a three-story white brick mansion, she pulled up to the gate. After she'd identified herself, the gate silently rolled back to admit them. "Where are we?" Jake asked in wonder. "This is Senator Hamilton's home. He's Mrs. Pressman's father. I think you'll be safe here; they probably think you were the one driving your car. Even if they don't, I don't think anybody would dare call down a drone strike on a U.S. senator." Helen led Jake to the door, where they were met by a butler who was obviously expecting them. He led them to what appeared to be a breakfast room, although it was larger than Jake's den. At a table there were sandwiches and mugs of beer waiting for them. Although Jake hadn't thought about food, he realized he was ravenous, and he and Helen eagerly sat down to eat. Over their meal Helen deliberately tried to steer the conversation away from the events of the evening. When it was clear she wouldn't talk about the attack, Jake asked Helen to tell him her story. She smiled. "It's a pretty short one, actually. I'm from the prairie like you. My daddy was a rancher in Montana, and I got an ROTC scholarship at State in Bozeman. When I graduated I enlisted and got sent to Afghanistan, where I was assigned to the Military Police. After I discharged my obligation, I took a shot at the Secret Service. They were giving preference to veterans and women, so I wound up in the Service here in D.C." Just then, Mrs. Pressman walked around the corner, and both Jake and Helen stood. The First Lady walked quickly to Jake's side and grasped both his hands. "I'm so glad you're safe, Jake. I am distraught that my name was used to lure you to that trap, even though I knew nothing about it at the time." She sat down at the table with them. Looking at Jake she said, "I still don't understand what is going on, but it appears that you are drawing an unusual amount of attention from several branches of the federal government. I can only imagine that your visit to Dr. Liu somehow set things in motion." "But why would anyone care about a couple who lost their baby to a miscarriage?" Jake asked plaintively. "I don't know," the First Lady reiterated, "but I somehow think the answer must lie at Johns Hopkins. If I'm right, there are two things I know about that place that may help you. First, in addition to being perhaps the best hospital in the nation, Johns Hopkins is also a leading biomedical research facility, especially in the field of DNA research. What isn't so widely known is that, in conjunction with their research they have DNA records on every patient they've treated in the last ten years. That includes the DNA of every baby and every fetus they've ever treated." As he thought about the implications of what Mrs. Pressman was saying, Jake's eyes grew large. But before he could say anything, the First Lady continued. "The second thing you may not know is that I am a trustee of Johns Hopkins. I believe that I can get you access to information that would otherwise not be available, at least without a subpoena." Jake couldn't help glancing over at Helen, who was just as wide-eyed as he. "Please be my guest tonight," Mrs. Pressman went on, "I think you'll be safe here. Besides, from what I've managed to gather, the authorities believe that you were the driver in the car." She gave a wry smile. "It's going to take some time for them to get enough remains to realize their mistake." Jake shuddered involuntarily. "Helen," Mrs. Pressman went on, "tomorrow I want you to take Jake to the Genetic Resources Core Facility at Johns Hopkins. I've already made a couple of calls that ought to pave the way. Maybe you can learn enough to put a stop to the little war game that seems to be playing out on the streets of the District." She gave the two of them a smile. "In the meantime, I recommend that you get a good night's sleep. My father has plenty of bedrooms, so you shouldn't be disturbed." The two of them bade the First Lady good night and then made their way upstairs to the sleeping quarters. As he started to turn the doorknob to his room, Jake stopped suddenly. "Oh my goodness, Helen, I'm sorry," he burst out. "What are you sorry for?" she asked in bewilderment. "In all the madness and confusion, I never thanked you for saving my life," Jake said. With that he reached out and hugged her. Helen pulled back to look at his face. "I was just doing my job, Jake," she said solemnly. Then her face broke into a little grin. "But I did enjoy it when you were groping me in that alley," she added, and suddenly leaned forward to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she turned and went off to her bedroom as Jake stood there in surprise. Mrs. Pressman joined the two of them again over breakfast the next morning, and as they ate she had news for them. "I've been doing a little checking this morning. You'll be interested to know that the Washington _Post_ is reporting last night's incident as a gas tank explosion," she told them with a mirthless grin. "There's been no public identification of the driver yet, but it's telling that the surveillance on you has apparently been lifted." Helen and Jake looked at each other grimly. The First Lady had more to tell them. "Since they don't seem to be looking for you any longer, let's not give them any reason to reconsider. I still think you need to go over to Hopkins, but let's switch roles for your visit. Helen, I need you to be my aide this morning. I've made a few calls, and they're expecting you at the Genetic Resources Facility. Jake, you be Helen's chauffeur. You can use one of my father's cars. Hopefully, that won't generate any unwanted attention." After breakfast, Jake donned a dark jacket and chauffeur's cap and, tipping his hat, hurried to hold the door for Helen, who acknowledged his chivalry with a big grin. As the two of them set out, Jake glanced over at Helen and his face took on a serious expression. "I still don't understand why we're going back to Hopkins or what exactly we're looking for. Do you know?" Helen held up a large envelope she'd been holding in her lap. "Mrs. Pressman gave me a list of information we're supposed to request at the GRCF. Hopefully, the answers will help us understand what's been going on. For now, let's just focus on getting the hospital's help; then we'll see what we can figure out." When Jake finally found the GRCF in the maze of buildings that constitute Johns Hopkins, the worn brick exterior belied the cutting-edge work being done inside. At the front desk a researcher was waiting for them. As he led them down a long corridor, he told them, "I've been asked to assist you with whatever you need." When they reached a small waiting room outside a much larger laboratory, Helen explained that they needed a DNA test run on Jake, who looked surprised at the development. Nevertheless he submitted to having his hair snipped. But before the researcher could leave, Helen handed him a second packet containing a different hair sample. "We'll also need this tested as well, please. Then, we'll need to have both of them compared with the DNA from these two samples that I believe you have on file. We'll need the likelihood of parentage for all." With that she handed the man a sheet of paper with two long alphanumeric codes. The researcher glanced at the numbers and, recognizing the Facilty's standard sample DNA identification numbers, nodded his understanding and swiftly left the room. Jake turned to Helen in confusion. "Isn't it going to take days if not weeks to get those samples tested and compared?" he asked. "That might be true under normal circumstances," Helen responded, "but we're in a state-of-the-art research center with capabilities most DNA labs don't have. And don't forget that the request for assistance came from a trustee of the hospital. My boss thinks they can give us results within a half an hour." Jake whistled in admiration. But he had other questions now. "So what were those numbers you gave him and where did that other hair sample come from?" Instead of answering, Helen glanced up at the corner of the room, and when Jake followed her eyes he spotted the closed circuit television camera. Helen then shook her head to signal him not to ask any more questions. Time moved as slowly for the two of them as it does for any patient stuck in a doctor's office, but finally the researcher returned and handed an envelope to Helen. "I think you'll find everything you need in here. Please give our regards to Mrs. Pressman, and let her know if you were satisfied with our response." "Oh, we were definitely satisfied," Helen said with a grateful smile, "and we'll most assuredly let Mrs. Pressman know of your helpfulness." With that, Helen and Jake left the facility and started the return trip to the District. As Jake drove, Helen kept the envelope of information on her lap, and though Jake was dying to learn about the contents, she admonished him to wait until they had returned to the Hamilton enclave. When they finally passed through the gates, Jake and Helen hurried to the house. They were met at the door by the butler, who showed them into the sitting room. There they found Mrs. Pressman waiting for them. Helen handed the envelope to the First Lady, who opened it gingerly. She pulled out two sheets of paper and looked at them thoughtfully. Then she handed them to Jake, who scanned them uncomprehendingly before handing them back to Savannah Pressman. "I don't understand any of this. What does it mean?" he asked apprehensively. The First Lady held up one of the sheets so he could see it. "'Subject A' is you," she said gently. "This is your DNA. The alphanumeric code you see below it is the reference number for the DNA of the fetus that your wife aborted some two years ago. The analysis shows that you were the father of that fetus." At her words, Jake involuntarily gave a huge sigh. "I was afraid... I thought it might have been someone else's baby," he said. Then, as the two women looked on, he suddenly realized the implications and his relief transformed into anger. "But that means she aborted my baby! Why would she do that? I wanted a child so much - we both did." Tears began to form in his eyes and he angrily wiped them away. He glanced up at Helen and Mrs. Pressman, who were sitting quietly. Noting the solemn expressions on their faces, he pointed to the second sheet. "What does that one say?" he demanded. "This code is for the DNA of the fetus that Catherine miscarried at the Easter Egg roll. The analysis rules out Subject A as the father, but confirms the paternity of Subject B." "How can that be?" Jake asked in anger and confusion. Then a dark look came over his face. "Who is 'Subject B'? Where did that hair sample come from?" he asked angrily. Mrs. Pressman looked at him with troubled eyes. "I'm afraid I'm responsible, Jake" she said softly. "I took that sample from my husband's hair brush." Jake stared at her in disbelief. "My wife is the President's mistress? She was carrying his baby?" He fell back on the sofa, his shoulders slumped as though burdened by a great weight. Now the tears began to flow freely as the shock of the revelations mixed with the tension he'd been under for weeks. Helen came over to sit beside him and hold his hand, and Mrs. Pressman slid over to bring him some tissues. After a while he regained control of himself and looked up at them with determination in his eyes. Helen sensed it and quickly asked in a worried voice, "What are you planning to do now, Jake?" "I'm going to go home and confront my soon-to-be ex-wife!" Helen looked over with concern to the First Lady, who quickly spoke up. "Jake, I'd feel a lot better if you'd stay here. I'm not convinced it's safe for you to be out and about just yet. I wouldn't want to hear about another 'accident,' if you get my meaning." He looked at her, then over at Helen, who nodded vigorously. "Alright," he conceded, "but I'm going to call her. This is killing me - I can't keep it in any longer." The two women exchanged glances; then Helen reached into her bag and pulled out a cellphone. "Use this," she told Jake. "It's a throwaway that's never been used, so the number shouldn't trigger any alarms at the NSA." As she handed it to him, she added, "But don't talk for very long, just in case." Jake took the phone and walked out onto the patio behind the house. When he dialed Catherine's cell, it rang for a while before a tentative female voice answered, "Yes, who is it?" "It's me, Jake, the husband that you thought was dead." "Jake!" she squealed. "I've been so worried about you. Where have you been? I tried calling you but all I got was a recording. I'm so..." "Stop!" Jake roared. "I don't want to do the 'loving couple' routine with you anymore. I know all about you and your lover, and I know whose baby it was that you miscarried. I also know that it was my baby you aborted two years ago." "But, Jake," Catherine objected; again Jake interrupted her. "I don't want to listen to any more of your lies, and for damned sure I don't want to hear any excuses or apologies. I just want you to know that as soon as I can get the paperwork started I'll be suing you for divorce. Oh, and in case you're wondering, I won't be filing on the grounds of irreconcilable differences," he added, "it'll be adultery all the way." "Jake, wait," Catherine implored him. "Don't do anything hasty. We've got to talk, please." "Why, so you can have another drone take a crack at me? Is that what you want?" he asked angrily. "What are you talking about? I don't know anything about any drones," she said fervently. "Fine, have it your way," he said angrily. "But any way it goes, I want you out of my life as fast as I can make that happen." "Just wait until tomorrow," she begged. "Don't do anything until..." "As far as I'm concerned, you're no longer my wife - if you ever were," he said bitterly, "and you don't get to ask me to do anything, now or ever again!" With that he rang off, wishing for a way he could slam down a cellphone. When he walked back inside, Helen was waiting. "How did it go?" she asked sympathetically. "About like you'd expect," Jake said. "It was all denial and delay: 'I didn't know anything; we need to talk; don't be hasty.'" Seeing the play of emotions on his face, she took him by the arm and led him inside to the den. "Just for a little while, you need to try to get your mind off all this mess. There's a ballgame on TV - come watch it with me. We can see how bad the Nationals are going to be this season. I'll fix us some sandwiches, and I thought I saw some imported beer in the refrigerator. Come on." Reluctantly Jake allowed her to take charge. But to his surprise, after a while he found himself relaxing as they watched the game. He even exchanged caustic comments with her about how instant replay was ruining the game. For the most part he found he was able to compartmentalize his emotions; the only time the pain threatened to break out was when he had to watch commercials featuring happy families at play. Helen wisely didn't try to intervene, but she did steer him gently back to more innocuous topics when the opportunity arose. At the end of the evening, Helen walked Jake back to his room. At the door, she gave him a hug. "It will get better, Jake, I promise. You've taken the first step by discovering the truth; now at least you know what you're dealing with." "I hope you're right, Helen, but this has all been so overwhelming," he said. She stood there watching sympathetically as he closed the door. She knew that sleep would be a long time coming for him. The next morning the two of them were eating breakfast when the butler made a sudden appearance. "There's a gentleman at the door from the Federal Bureau of Investigation," he said solemnly. "He says he'd like to speak to Mr. Phillips. What shall I tell him?" Jake and Helen looked at each other; then Jake got a determined expression on his face. "I'll be right there," he said. "Wait a second," Helen said, and slipped on her shoulder holster with the black Sig Sauer. Then she followed Jake to the door and stood where her weapon was visible. The man at the front door was waiting patiently with his hands clasped in front of him. When Jake pulled the door open, the man held up his credentials for Jake to see and inquired politely, "Mr. Jacob Phillips?" When Jake acknowledged him, the agent continued, "Sir, the President of the United States would like to see you at the White House immediately. I've been instructed to drive you there." Jake looked back at Helen, and she mouthed something to him. "I'm willing to go to the White House now," Jake told the man, "but I prefer my own transportation." The agent shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself, sir," he said, and turned and left. Jake and Helen quickly got ready and sped off toward Pennsylvania Avenue. "I don't think they'd try anything now," she said to Jake, "but I'm going to take the most public route possible. It doesn't hurt to play it safe." "I wonder how they found out where I was?" Jake asked. "I think we underestimated how badly they want to locate you," Helen said. "They must have put a full-court press on immediately after your call to Catherine last night." When they reached the White House, the agent they'd met earlier was waiting for him. Helen reached over and squeezed Jake's hand. "Good luck," she said, and then he was walking up the steps to the entrance. The agent led Jake through the ornately decorated hallways until they turned off into a small office with nothing but a table and what appeared to be an airport metal detector inside. "Your cellphone, please," the agent asked. Jake handed it over reluctantly because he'd been hoping to record his encounter with the President. Next the agent asked, "Are you wearing a wire?" Jake shook his head in the negative. "Any kind of electronic devices?" Again, no. "Do you have a pacemaker?" "No," Jake said. "What's this all about?" The agent pointed at the device next to the table with a sly grin. "If you've got any kind of electronic device on you, this baby will fry it and probably you as well!" When he motioned toward the device, Jake walked through it nervously but without incident. The agent then led him down the hall and held the door open for him to enter what was unmistakably the Oval Office. "Go on in and have a seat. The President will be with you momentarily." Jake walked over to one of the chairs in front of the President's desk and sat down. After a moment he began to stare around him. Even though Catherine had worked as a presidential aide for half-a-dozen years, Jake had never seen the Oval Office before, and he couldn't help but marvel at being in this seat of world power. "It's easy to see how you could get swept up by all this," he thought. Just then a door opened behind him, and when Jake swiveled around to look he saw the unmistakable figure of Calvin Pressman striding toward him. Even though he now loathed the man who stood before him, Jake automatically rose out of an instinctive respect for the office Pressman held. The President made no offer to shake Jake's hand nor did he speak. Instead he beckoned Jake to follow him. They passed through a door that Jake hadn't even noticed, went through a vestibule, out a second door and suddenly emerged into the bright sunlight of a late spring day on the back lawn of the White House. "This is a better place for us to talk," the President said, but when Jake started to respond the big man held up his hand for silence. Then he spoke, seemingly into the open air. "Do not record. This conversation is privileged, personal and confidential." Jake glanced around but could see nothing that might record their conversation. The President then began walking, and Jake hastened to follow. "I like it on this side," Pressman said. "Everybody talks about the Rose Garden, but this time of year I think the Kennedy Garden is prettier." Jake looked up at the taller man and said bluntly, "I don't imagine you called me down here to discuss spring flowers, Mr. President." Pressman gave a little grin. "No beating about the bushes with you, is there Jake? Well, you're right, of course. I brought you here to talk about Catherine." Jake felt the anger bubbling up inside him. "I know all about you and Catherine," he said hotly. "You don't know jack-shit!" the President spat, but Jake was not to be put off. "I know you tried to have me killed in a drone strike to get her for yourself," Jake fired back. The President's anger faded and a look almost like embarrassment came over his face. "I'm sorry about that, Jake. That was a mistake. I got upset and said a few harsh things about you in the company of the wrong people. I guess they kind of took me a little too seriously." Jake stared at him and then said sarcastically, "Oh, sure, I understand - just like Henry II and Thomas à Becket." When he saw Pressman staring at him in confusion, Jake went on, "You know, when the King asked his henchmen, 'Will no one rid me of this troublesome priest?'" "Whatever," Pressman said dismissively. "Anyway, I brought you here to talk about my legacy. I've done just about everything I set out to accomplish, and I think history will treat me very well indeed. But the one thing I'm lacking is an heir, and unfortunately my wife is sterile. That's why I need Catherine." "Wait a minute," Jake objected, "if you weren't happy with your wife, why didn't you just divorce her?" Pressman looked at Jake as though he were the village idiot. "Divorce her? Do you know how many votes her father controls in the Senate? Without Horatio Hamilton's support I could never get my agenda through Congress. Hell, I would never have gotten the nomination in the first place!" Jake's initial reaction was contempt, but then something the President had said suddenly sank in, and Jake was appalled. "The nomination?" he asked. "Way back during the primaries? Just how long has this thing between you and Catherine been going on?" The President's face took on a look of satisfaction. "We fell in love during my first run for the party nomination - before she even met you. You have to admit we've done a good job of keeping it secret," he said proudly. Jake was stunned. "But why would Catherine marry me if the two of you were in love?" Now Pressman smirked openly. "Don't you see? You were the perfect cover. She could work close to me all this time, and with the two of you married no one would suspect anything." "But your wife, the Secret Service, the media" Jake protested, "how could you possibly, you know, get together without people finding out?" Pressman winked at him. "There are ways - places away from the Secret Service, rooms that aren't wired, trips overseas, even on Air Force One. It wasn't that often, but we managed." His expression suddenly sobered. "But you kept pushing Catherine to start a family, and she finally agreed to go off birth control pills to keep you happy. What you didn't know was she started using a diaphragm whenever you wanted to have sex. They say those things are 94% effective; I guess two years ago you and Catherine fell into the 6%. Anyway, when she got pregnant we knew the baby wasn't mine because of the timing, so we arranged for her to have an abortion, the one you found out about at Hopkins." Jake felt like his head was swimming as he tried to comprehend everything Pressman was telling him. "She's been using birth control all this time? But that can't be true - she got pregnant last winter." Pressman could hardly contain himself. "I said she used a diaphragm with you; I didn't say she used it with me. After her abortion, we decided we couldn't take a chance on another accident so we moved up the timetable to give me my heir. That way, when I got her pregnant you'd think the baby was yours. Our plan would have worked perfectly if she hadn't had that miscarriage." Jake stood there with his mouth open. He simply couldn't comprehend that his whole marriage had been a sham and that the woman he'd thought had loved him had deceived him so cruelly for so long. Pressman began to walk again and Jake had to scramble to catch up. "Anyway, that's all in the past - I want to talk about the future. I don't want to hear any more talk from you about a divorce now. Everything is going to stay the same: you and Catherine are going to stay married. Soon she's going to get pregnant again and you're going to act the proud father." He gave a sudden laugh. "I will get her pregnant again. I'm very virile - my doctors tell me I have the testicles of a man half my age! "Anyway, Catherine's going to get pregnant and the two of you will raise the child as your own for the next two years. Then, after I finish my second term of office, I'll quietly divorce Savannah and you and Catherine will split up. She'll get sole custody of the baby. After a respectable period of time, Catherine and I will marry, and I'll adopt the baby and change its name to Pressman. I've got it all planned out." Jake stared at the big man, wondering if he had gone insane. "What makes you think I would ever collude with you in this crazy scheme? Why shouldn't I leave here today and go straight to the Washington _Post_ to tell them the whole story?" he demanded angrily. The President gave Jake a shrewd look. "Over the years I've learned that if you want to get something done, it's better to use both the carrot and the stick. So tell me, Jake, would you go along with me if I could give you your wildest dream? Better than that, what if I gave you the dream of practically every attorney in the country, along with a guarantee of financial security for the rest of your life?" Now Jake was completely lost, and he looked at Pressman in incomprehension. The big man was on a roll now. He took Jake by the shoulder and pointed off across the South Lawn. "Look over there through the trees, down Constitution Avenue. That's the Department of Justice. How'd you like to have your portrait in oil hanging there, Jake? The current AG wants to retire anyway; how'd you like to be my Attorney General? For the next two years you'd be the most senior legal counsel in the nation. And when the new president is sworn in, any law firm in the country would love to hire you at an astronomical salary. Or if that's not the life you want, you could probably become the dean of almost any law school you fancy. The world would be your oyster. All you'd have to do is keep things exactly the way they have been for two more years and it could all be yours. What do you say?" Before Jake could respond, a figure emerged from the White House and gave a frantic wave to the President. Pressman nodded and turned back to Jake. "I have to go now - I've kept the ambassador from France waiting over 30 minutes." He gave a little chuckle. "All this would be a lot simpler if I were president of France. They have a much different attitude toward affairs of the heart than we do in this country. Anyway, think about what I'm offering. You'd be a fool to pass this up." With that, the big man strode off to his meeting, leaving Jake standing there amid the flowers in the Kennedy Garden. Then the FBI agent emerged and, after returning Jake's cellphone, led him back through the White House and out to where Helen was waiting impatiently in the car. After he'd gotten in, she pulled away from the curb and was soon caught up in the noon-day traffic. "Well, what did he want, what did he say?" she asked eagerly. Jake stared out the windshield with a thoughtful expression on his face. "I have a lot to think about," he said. _ **Three Months Later**_ The reporter stood on the steps of the Senate building, listening attentively to the tiny speaker in her ear. When she heard the producer's cue, she began to speak to the camera in front of her. "This is CNN News reporting live from Capitol Hill, where the confirmation hearings for Jacob Phillips will begin momentarily in the Judiciary Committee. As is widely known, if confirmed, Phillips would be the youngest Attorney General in U.S. history. That might give some people pause, but with the

backing of President Pressman, these hearings have taken on the semblance of a mere formality." She pressed her fingers to her ear and then said, "I'm told that the hearings are getting under way, so now we'll go live to the Senate Caucus Room where the hearing is being held." The hearing room was filled with the sounds of people taking their seats and exchanging muted comments. Jake, who was sitting at a table facing the panel of senators, glanced around and saw Catherine sitting behind him, her belly already starting to show. She smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. Just then, Senator Horatio Hamilton, the chairman of the Judiciary Committee, called the session to order and announced that the nominee had requested the opportunity to make brief initial remarks. When he gestured, Jake cleared his throat and leaned toward the microphone in front of him. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Judiciary Committee, it is a great honor for me to come before you as nominee for the office of Attorney General for the United States of America. Every attorney in the nation has dreams of one day filling this critical post, and I can assure you that I am no exception. "The purpose of this hearing, of course, is for you to learn more about me, my legal philosophy, and my influences. It is on that latter topic that I'd like to speak now. But rather than legal scholars or political scientists, the influence I'd like to cite is the poet T. S. Eliot, and especially his masterpiece _Murder in the Cathedral_." Jake heard a stir in the room, but he pressed on. "As you of course know, the play concerns the slaying of Archbishop Thomas à Becket by agents of Henry the Second, because Thomas would not yield to the King's will. But it was not the crime that was the play's main focus; instead, Eliot wanted us to confront the subject of temptation. You see, Becket had options before his murder, some of which could have brought him fame, power, riches or safety. But Becket rejected them all, saying that the greatest treason is to do the right thing for the wrong reason. "I believe that Becket - and Eliot - were right: it is a sin to do the right thing for the wrong reason. And for that reason I hereby renounce my nomination to the post of Attorney General. I do so because my nomination was not a recognition of service or capability but a cold, calculated bribe, one I cannot and do not accept." Shouts erupted in the room, and photographers jostled one another to get shots. But Senator Hamilton gaveled the room to order and motioned Jake to continue. "You are probably asking yourselves why I have waited so long to turn down this nomination, and why I chose such a public forum in which to do so. The answer is that this was the only way I could be certain that what I have to say cannot be suppressed, covered up or explained away. "It is vital that I have this opportunity, because I hereby charge Calvin Arthur Pressman, the President of the United States, with high crimes and misdemeanors." A collective gasp filled the Senate Caucus Room, followed by shouts from the news media and outbursts from many of the senators on the panel. But once again the chairman called for order, and at a signal from him the microphones of the other senators went dead. Then he calmly called for Jake to proceed. "Ladies and gentlemen, here are my charges. The President authorized the use of a military drone to attack a U.S. citizen - myself - inside the United States. Had it not been for the intercession of others, he would have been successful. "The President acted illegally because he has been conducting a long-running intimate relationship with my wife in an attempt to father an heir. When I came too close to the truth about that relationship, he attempted to have me murdered. When that attempt failed, he attempted to buy my silence by offering me the post of Attorney General. Regardless of whatever investigations this Congress conducts or decisions it makes in these matters, I will be filing for a divorce from my wife Catherine on the grounds of infidelity, and I will be naming the President as co-respondent. "These are extremely serious charges, and you have every reason to question their veracity. Accordingly, I am now going to have evidence that has been gathered over the last three months distributed to the Committee members as well as to the ladies and gentlemen of the news media. In the first section you will find incontrovertible DNA proof of the sexual relationship between the President and my wife. In the second section you'll find evidence we've developed concerning the drone attack in the District of Columbia, including a photograph of the tailfin of the Hellfire missile that was fired at me in the Anacostia neighborhood. As you'll see, the serial number and other markings survived, enabling us to pinpoint its source and the details of its use. Helen, would you see that the packets are distributed?" Helen Simmons nodded and gave Jake a tight smile before starting to pass out the envelopes. Immediately there was a near riot as Senators and reporters scrambled to acquire one of the packages. Jake looked around at his wife, who was desperately trying to escape the questions of the reporters who had surrounded her. Then he looked up at Senator Hamilton. "Mr. Chairman," he said, "that concludes my opening remarks." The senator looked at Jake and nodded. Then the old man peered up into the gallery. Jake followed his glance and spotted the First Lady standing with her arms crossed beside the entrance to the highest tier in the room. When she saw the two men look up at her, she gave them a nod of grim satisfaction and then retreated through the doorway behind her. ** _One Year Later_** When Jake had finished topping off the tank, he strolled into the gas station to pay the attendant. He was mostly using cash these days rather than credit cards, trying to try to stay off the grid as much as possible. He knew they could still find him if they wished, but he didn't want to make it easy. He was driving, not flying, for the same reason. He hadn't checked the news in days, but when he spotted a copy of _USA Today_ on the counter he picked up a copy on impulse. The front page was filled by a large photo of a wooden-faced Cap Pressman being escorted by Federal Marshalls. The headline read, "Pressman Heads to the Pen." The subhead added "First president ever convicted of a felony in office." Jake gave a derisive laugh. "He always wanted to make the history books. Looks like he got his wish." As he walked out he glanced up at the blue cloudless western sky. It had become a habit, but today he spotted nothing but an airliner some eight miles overhead. Nevertheless, he quickly stepped under the roof over the pumps. He walked back to the car and passed a can of ice cold soda through the open window. "Thanks," Helen said. "How long before we reach Nebraska?" He looked at the flat expanse of prairie stretched out before them. "I'd say we've got another hour before we hit the Missouri River," he told her. As he got in the car and started the engine, she reached over and squeezed his arm with a look of concern on her face. "Any second thoughts about coming back here, Jake? After all, Pressman still has friends in Oklahoma." He smiled at her. "I'm not worried: Cornhuskers and Sooners have been rivals forever." Then he grew serious. "Besides, do you know what the state motto of Nebraska is?" When she shook her head, he told her, "It's 'Equality Before the Law.' Nebraskans don't like officials who think they're above the law, out here or in Washington." "Okay, but I still worry about you," she said. He reached over and squeezed her hand. "I'll be fine as long as I've got you watching my back." _The following diary excerpts were submitted as evidence in the trial of one Mr. Albert C. Gradulunk._ * Tuesday, November 13 I was late to work again, and this time my boss said something because I missed an important meeting. I made some excuse about traffic, figuring I shouldn't tell him the real reason I was late. I thought I could make it quick this morning, but I had such a great fantasy in my head and, well, one thing led to another and before I knew it I'd spent a good 45 minutes. I really need to get hold of myself (hah! Not that way!) and control this behavior. That's it. I'll go the next week without masturbating. I quit smoking, so I know I can do this. Wednesday, November 14 Nothing to it. Sure, I woke up with the usual morning erection, and even started stroking myself before I remembered that I'm taking the week off. Work was busy all day and after that dinner meeting I'm exhausted. Even if I wanted to tonight, I'd be too tired. Thursday, November 15 Remember when you were in junior high school and you'd get those spontaneous erections at the most inopportune times, like just before the teacher called your name and asked you to come up to the board and tell everybody where along the track the two trains are going to collide? The same sort of thing happened to me today, although I managed not to embarrass myself. I had one scare at the beginning of a staff meeting, but thankfully it subsided before I had to get up and give my presentation. Two whole days without masturbating in the morning or at night. I don't miss the nights so much as the mornings. That always woke me up even better than exercise. But I'm determined to make this work. Friday, November 16 I woke up in the middle of the night from a very vivid erotic dream. I was fondling myself and stroking. It's only been since Tuesday and already I'm starting to doubt whether I can make it through the week. Does it count if I masturbate in my sleep? Work was difficult. I had to spend most of the day at my desk, hiding my arousal from everybody else. I even turned down a lunch invitation from Susan because there's no way she could have missed the tent in my pants had I stood up. This would have been our third lunch together in two weeks, and the first one she invited me to. After all this time, and just my luck that I couldn't accept. She was clearly disappointed. I'll make it up to her next week. I had to skip happy hour tonight, too. There's no way I could have spent a few hours at the bar eyeing that waitress (Rachel with the beautiful smile, fine ass, nice firm round bre...stop that!) and not come home to jerk off. I might have willpower, but I know my limitations. Saturday, November 17 I don't know if I can do this. It's only three more days, but I'm about to burst! I knew the weekend would be difficult if I didn't fill my day with something, so I got up early for a bike ride. I've finally got the morning erection under control, but that was small consolation. Do you have any idea how good those women cyclists look from behind as I'm catching up to them? Worse, do you have any idea how difficult it is to ride with a hardon? And I had to pass up the perfect opportunity, too. A stunning woman was stopped at the side of the road trying to fix a flat tire, and I had to pass her by because there's absolutely no way I could have hidden the lump in my bicycle shorts. Damn! I thought exercise would help me take my mind off things, but even after a long ride I had to take a cold shower before it'd go down. I didn't go to Randy's bachelor party. Any other night I wouldn't be embarrassed at a topless bar, but the way I'm feeling right now I'd probably cum in my pants. If I didn't have to be at the wedding tomorrow morning I'd get rip-roaring drunk tonight so I couldn't get it up even if I wanted to. As it is, I'm considering taping my hands to my legs before I go to sleep. Sunday, November 18 I didn't tape my hands last night, but this morning my erection just wouldn't go down. So I taped my cock to my stomach. There was no way I could miss Randy's wedding. It was mighty uncomfortable, and kind of awkward when I had to use the bathroom. I got an odd look when I came out of the stall one time. I think the guy heard the sound of the tape coming off the roll that time I had to replace it. Of course I shaved before I put the tape on this morning. No way I was going to have hair ripped out. But now it itches like crazy and just makes me think about it more. I swear I'm going to make it, though. Only Monday and Tuesday left to go. Something else I noticed today. I think women can tell that I'm in what you would term a heightened state of arousal. And I think they like it. They're not turned on by the horny jerks who are always making lame come-ons, but they seem to know the effect they're having on me, and enjoy it. Several of the women I danced with at the reception pressed themselves against me and smiled when they felt how hard I was. Even Stephanie, who never even flirted the tiniest bit with me, felt it and asked if she always had that effect on me. Maybe it's all just my imagination, but I think I had a better than even chance of taking one of those women home, but there's no way I was going to get my hopes up and then fail. It's bad enough sitting here trying not to give in to temptation. I might have to sleep in a cold bath tonight. Monday, November 19 I didn't even try to get my erection down this morning. I took my shower, dried off, and reached for the tape. It's surprising how fast I've gotten used to the feeling. I swear I've been hard since Saturday evening. I wonder if there's some sort of world record for longest erection. I saw Susan this morning when I got in, and asked her if she'd like to have lunch. The way her eyes lit up when she smiled and accepted made my cock twitch so hard I thought it was going to break the tape. She looked especially nice today, and I told her so. That got me another smile and another frightening twitch. I figured I'd better go sit down and not take any more chances. We had a nice lunch, if a little rushed. She knows something is up (haha, not that way, you perv), but has no idea what. Three different times she asked me if something was wrong. I told her everything was fine and that I really enjoyed being with her, but I don't know if she believed it. It's not like I could tell her that it'd been six days since I've masturbated and that finally being so close to her had me harder than I'd been since Mary Jo Slopinsky gave me my first blowjob. If Susan had touched me, it would have been over faster than it was that night in the back seat of my dad's old Chevy station wagon. Women do notice when a guy is horny. Must be pheremones or something. All the women in the office today were unusually friendly. Any other time, I would have been happy to flirt and tease right along with them. But in my present state there's no telling what might happen. If I could somehow manage not to masturbate for a month, I'd have women throwing themselves at me. Or maybe my extreme horniness is making me see things that aren't there. Anyway, I think I'm actually going to pull this thing off. (Did you ever notice how many common expressions like "something's up," "pull this thing off," etc. can be construed as having something to do with masturbation?) All I have to do is make it through tonight and tomorrow, and I'll have gone a whole week without masturbating. Wednesday morning, November 21 My life is over. Yesterday started like the last three days: with an erection that was almost painful. But I knew that it would be over when I got home from work. All I had to do was remain seated in my office all day, avoid interaction with any women, and keep my mind on my work. After the ritual cock taping job, I headed in to the office. Things went well all morning. Susan was busy with something when I came in and just gave me a brief smile and "Hello" before turning back to her task. I went to my office and sat down, immersing myself in the current project so as to take my mind off the discomfort of the tape and the itching from my shaved pubic area. Before I knew it, it was 12:30 and I decided I could skip lunch for the day. Only four more hours and I could go home to relieve the pressure that had been building for the last week. About 1:00, I received an email from an online friend, wondering where I'd been for the last week. The message was accompanied by a little story--a fantasy encounter--that, in retrospect, I should not have read at the time. I could feel my cock straining against the tape, and had to close that message before getting to the end. I then spent the next 45 minutes with my eyes closed, trying to calm down. Mandy came in at a little after two and sat across from me, wanting to discuss her role in the project. Even in the best of times I had difficulty keeping my eyes from wandering over her body. Yesterday she seemed to be encouraging it. Who could have guessed that discussing a data entry project could be an erotic experience? Every sentence she uttered was punctuated with a sexual reference. She would lick her lips and smile, crossing and uncrossing her legs. When the meeting was over 15 minutes later, she reached out to trail her fingers across my cheek: "Al, you need to relax." I shuddered and smiled, gazing longingly at her shapely ass as she walked out the door. I finally got myself under control again about 3:00, just in time for Susan to come in and shut the door. I tried to protest that I was busy but she just stood there with her back to the door, watching me silently until I quieted down. "Al, we've been dancing around each other for months. I've been hoping you'd ask me out. But after lunch yesterday, I don't know if you're interested." "Susan, I..." "I'm not done," she interrupted. "Thursday is Thanksgiving, and I don't have any plans. I'd love to make dinner for you--just the two of us. Let me know by tomorrow at noon so I can pick up what I need at the store during lunch." That said, she turned and walked out, leaving me with a huge smile on my face and my discomfort temporarily forgotten. I looked at the clock: only an hour and fifteen minutes to go. I decided to drop by Susan's desk on the way out and accept her invitation. When four thirty rolled around, I stood and gathered my things. I might not have been consciously thinking of my predicament, but my subconscious must have been working overtime. My erection was painfully hard, trapped against my stomach, and I had to lean against the wall for a few minutes to settle down before I could make my way--trying not to walk funny--out the door. I stopped by Susan's desk as planned and smiled when she looked up. "Susan, I can't think of anything I'd rather do on Thanksgiving than spend the day with you." The smile on her face was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. She stood up and launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around me and lightly kissing my cheek. I couldn't do anything but return the hug while trying to keep her away from my erection. We held each other for a few seconds and then she moved away, trailing her fingers down my forearms and looking into my eyes. "You know, I'm free tomorrow night, too..." I shivered at the possibilities, then squeezed her hands and told her I'd see her in the morning. Just her simple touch, a light kiss, and the intoxicating scent of her hair and perfume had me on the verge of orgasm. I sat in the car gathering my wits for a few minutes and then started on my way home. Only a half hour to go, I thought, and I'd be free of this torture! I rolled down the window, turned on the radio, and eased myself into the rush hour traffic. Halfway home I remembered that I needed some things from the grocery store. I would have put it off except that Ralph the cat was out of food, and I didn't want him interrupting my plans when I got home. So I stopped at the store, planning to rush in, get that one item, and be on my way. I made my way through the store, trying not to even look at the women walking around. I recall picking out Ralph's favorite cat food and heading toward the register. Just as I was approaching the express lane, an unbelievably good- looking young woman rushed in front of me, her arms full of items. Placing everything on the conveyor, she turned and smiled at me saying, "Sorry, but I was about to drop this." She was stunning: about 5'6", light brown hair, a radiant smile. Her large breasts were nicely displayed in a low-cut top, and her nipples were prominent. A very short skirt revealed tanned, toned legs, and simple open- toed sandals accentuated her lovely feet. I could feel pressure on the tape again and smiled as best as I could. "That's okay. I'm not in any hurry." She smiled and winked, and as she turned around her hand knocked a box off the conveyor and onto the floor. Her skirt rode up as she bent to retrieve the dropped item. I quickly turned away hoping to avert the coming disaster, but she stumbled back against me. In an attempt to keep from falling myself and knocking over the magazine rack, I grabbed her hips and leaned forward. The cat food container flew out of my hand and fell to the floor, splitting open and scattering kitty chunks everywhere. This prevented us from falling, but had the unfortunate effect of pressing her shaved and thong-covered pussy tightly against my straining erection, which finally broke free of the tape, ripped my jockey shorts, and burst through the zipper of my pants. The last thing I remember before passing out is my hard shaft pressed against the heat of her pussy as I ejaculated under her skirt. I still don't know if her orgasm was real or a figment of my admittedly overworked imagination. I awoke sprawled on a mess of cat food, the box of crackers she had knocked off the conveyor poking me in the back. My flaccid penis was sticking out of my broken zipper, and the the woman was standing over me screaming. All I could see was her thong, and my cum dripping down the inside of her skirt. A crowd was gathering and the security guard was rushing over. An older woman thankfully covered my exposed penis with a supermarket tabloid, and the cashier led the still-screaming young woman away from the scene. I struggled to stand but the security guard wouldn't let me get beyond a sitting position until after the cops arrived. I spent last night in jail and was released this morning on bond after being arraigned on charges of sexual assault, indecent exposure, and four counts of lewd conduct with a child--the last because there were children in the group of people gathered around, and who saw my penis before that woman covered it up. My lawyer thinks we can beat that last charge easily, but the other two will be more difficult. I've also received notice that the young woman who I "assaulted" will be filing a civil suit claiming emotional distress and seeking unspecified damages. To top it all off, Susan left a message on my cell phone early this morning saying that she couldn't believe she'd been taken in by a pervert such as myself, and that if I ever even tried to talk with her she would seek a restraining order and file charges of sexual harassment. Not that there's any chance of me seeing her again. My boss just called and said that my behavior in the supermarket yesterday is a violation of my employment contract and grounds for immediate dismissal. He will be gathering my things personally and will deliver them this afternoon along with a check covering the balance of my accrued vacation and sick time. Altogether it's been a horrible week and I need to take my mind off of it. I think I'll go jerk off now. It had been a long day for Katie. This was the third day this week that she pulled a double shift at the hotel, and she was wiped out. That jerk, they had just hired had no sense of discipline, and she was tired of having to take the heat for him. She truly wished they would just fire him and look for another second shift representative. "Have a good night Laura," Katie waved to the woman and headed out the front door. The biggest issue she had with working into the later hours of the night was of course having to take the bus home in the dark. Her neighborhood was fine, but where she had to wait, was less than safe. It was known for thugs, drug addicts, and other inner city annoyances. Katie cautiously walked across the street, and nearly jogged to the bus stop. It was freezing, still a bit of ice on the ground, as winter was just coming to an end. She would have put her hood up, but it hindered her peripheral vision. So the hood stayed down, bunched up around her neck, hoping the fur on the collar would keep her warm enough until the bus came. It was about five minutes in and a young man came to sit next to her. It was unusual for this hour to find much anyone out, but still not unheard of. Katie nodded at him, and moved over on the bench, to allow him to sit. He looked normal enough. Jeans (not sagging), a nice coat, decent pair of sneakers. His look soothed her nerves enough, and actually kind of made her feel safe. It was nice to not be alone out there, and she kinda hoped he would be on the same bus as her too. That too was empty at this time of day, and she often wondered about the driver, who was constantly giving her eyes. "You know what time the bus comes?" his voice startled her, making her jump. "About fifteen minutes or so," he only nodded to her response and turned his gaze down the street to keep watch. Transportation finally arrived, and they both boarded. As usual it was empty, just her, the bus driver and the man. And apparently the two knew each other, she had to assume since they chatted on a first name basis. She was so tired though, and the lull of the bus nearly rocked her to sleep. Fighting to keep her eyes open, she knew it was futile. The ride would take about an hour, and she didn't foresee anyone else getting any time soon. The driver wouldn't let anything happen, he wasn't about to loose his job. And so her eyes fluttered closed. Of course when one sleeps, they loose sense of time, and due to her over tired nature, she was lost in dreamland, nearly immediately. Perhaps a half an hour had passed, and she awakened to the bus jerking. With a panic, she nearly fell off her seat, eyes opening with a start. At first she thought they had been in an accident, but it was obvious they hadn't when she took a gander out the window. Her heart raced, and she wasn't sure to get up and check things out, or be frozen to her seat and just wait for someone to say something. "Umm hey...what happened?" but her words acted as some sort of signal, and the interior lights flickered off. Katie could have just about pissed herself in fear. Clutching tight to her purse, she felt the tears in her eyes already well up. She wasn't sure if they even were in any kind of grave danger, but she had always been the type to freak out before anyone else. Opening her bright blue orbs to let the air dry them, she searched through her bag for her inhaler. Since she was young, she had struggled with breathing in extreme situations. And now at 19, she still had the same problems. Again she called out from the back, squinting her eyes to try and see where the pair had gone. Some shadow were visible, but for the most part, everything was just dark, and she was pretty sure the bus wasn't even on the right route. Now she was really beginning to panic. Katie sat frightened like a deer caught in headlights, becoming completely immobilized. She could feel her jaw clenching in fear, and her hands shake in her lap. The sudden voice, was the only thing that brought her back to the reality of the situation, otherwise she was sure she would have stayed that way, until she knew what was going on. "Get up," the voice from over her shoulder demanded. Where had he come from, was the first thing that popped into her mind, and then a muted scream from her plush lips. The man's hand that closed in over her face and lips, tasted like salt. They were sticky like he had just dipped his hand in a bowl of melted salt water taffy. It made her gag as she struggled to get herself free. The man yanked her back out of her seat, which wasn't hard considering she was quite a petite girl. No more than 110 lbs soaking wet. So it was easy to toss her around like a rag doll, and that's exactly what he did. The thought still hadn't crossed her mind, as to what may happen next, she was still struggling to get away from her captor. It wasn't until seconds later, that she heard the footsteps and the back side door slide open. At this point she had lost track of how many feet she heard, scurrying about. Wildly she kicked, until a shoe was eventually flung in the opposite direction, and a firm hand on her ankle kept her securely in place. It was then that it dawned on her, what was about to happen. They were about to rape her. It was as though they were right on queue with her. One man had her by the throat nearly, another by her ankle, and one more binding her arms behind her back with some sort of wire. Her chilling screams, were only muffled further as she felt them taking her off the bus, and into the cold, dark, night air, even felt a snowflake or two fall on her flushed cheeks. They were like ice to fire, mixing with her tears. Completely unable to move now, she could feel herself being carried maybe a few feet away from the bus, and her back placed up against a tree, she had to assume by the rough, cold feel. Just as quick as her hands were untied, they were back to being bound, but this around the tree and instead of with wire, she was pretty sure handcuffs. Katie's legs had just about given out on her, knees wobbly, stomach in knots so bad that it hurt to even cry anymore. For a few moments, she didn't hear anything, but the rustling of the leaves above. All she could think about was, how badly she wanted to be home, and how she wised to God, someone would have pity on her, and not go through with whatever they had planned. But it was to no avail and her thoughts were replaced by a cold, sharp object up against her neck. "Now listen, I'm gonna let you breath, but you better promise not to scream, otherwise you get it" she picked out the man's voice as the bus driver. Her eyes were beginning to adjust to her surroundings, and she could make out numerous figures in a clearing just ahead. Katie's arms struggled, but it was pointless. They had her pressed so tight up against the bark, that it began cutting through her thin button up work shirt, the more she fought. The man made good on his promise and cut away the material at her lips, leaving her to gasp and cough for a second, before she began whimpering and begging for help. "Please, if its money you want, you can have my purse, its back on the bus." she begged between her tears. "I don't have anything else," but of course she did. "Shut up girl, you have exactly what we want," this was another man who stepped out from behind her. He must have been the one who tied her up this way. Again Katie pleaded, insisting she didn't have anything. Deep down she knew what they wanted, but a little part of her still hoped for the best. There weren't many more words passed between them, and soon she got sight of all four of her captors. Big men at best. One even looked like he was a giant. She had never seen a man that tall. Two of the men were darker it seemed, but it was still hard to make out there faces. Squealing like a dirty little whore in heat, tried kicking one leg out, but only to have her actions returned by a slap to her face. "No talking, no struggling, no crying" the same man who had been doing most of the communication it seemed, called out to her. But Katie had to at least try. They were obviously not amused at her blatant disrespect for their rules, and grabbed her ankles once more, one on each side, holding her legs apart, stretching her until she felt her joints begin to ache. Crying out, she finally gave in, promising to be a good girl. Still they held her legs open as though she were an open buffet. She heard a grunt and then an unfamiliar man stepped between her legs. He smelled like musty sex, and the pungent smell filled her nose, making her gag. "Please, please don't do this," she wasn't even sure what else to offer them at this point, noting seemed to deter them from their intentions. "Shut your face slut," and he did just that. Unzipping his pants, he let his long, hard, sweaty cock rest against her lips. Katie pursed her lips together, but he jabbed at it with his mushroom until they were forced to open, then shoved her mouth full of his pulsating sex. She didn't even do this for her boyfriend, and it was embarrassing. He didn't even give her much time to suck or taste, before he began banging her head off the tree, thrusting his member so deep in her throat, she was gagging.

"Jerome, can you hand me that hammer?" Marty's voice broke me out of the trance I was in. "Yeah, sure, here." I handed him a small hammer and tried to focus on my work. It was next to impossible. The toy train I was working on needed one more coat of red paint, and I would be finished for the day. Then, my dreams would come true. A hot shiver ran down my spine and my cock tingled inside my green tights. Marty giggled. "Somebody is a little too excited!" he said. I looked down at my crotch. To my horror, the tingle had turned into a massive boner. "Damn it." I finished painting the train in a hurry. "There, all done. I'm punching out, Marty, see you tomorrow." "Yeah, if you can walk." Marty snickered. My bulge had shrunk considerably, so I didn't cause too much attention to myself as I left the toy making department, and headed to my small apartment. I spotted Candy Cane on my way there. Candy was a sexy female elf, with perky tits and long legs. As much as I would have loved to taste her sweet, peppermint flavored snatch, I lacked the time. "Oh, hi Jerome." She smiled at me, seductively. "Big night tonight, huh?" "Yes. See you tomorrow." I brushed past her, not wanting to waste any time with small talk. My excitement was taking over, and my hands shook as I unlocked my apartment door. I scarfed down a quick dinner of milk and cookies, then jumped in the shower. While I was drying my hair, I took the time to give myself a good looking over. I liked what I saw. Contrary to what you may have heard about elves, I'm tall. Almost 6 feet. Wait a minute, you're thinking, elves are small and have pointy ears. Nope. Just a facade we put on for the children of the world. When you see us in our true form, we are pretty fucking sexy. I stood in front of my closet, and couldn't decide what to wear. Finally, I kept it simple, black leggings and a long grey tunic, with black leather boots covering my bare feet. I took out the diamond studs I was wearing and replaced them with small, silver hoops. My long brown hair was still slightly damp, but I was happy with the way it looked, it was more rock star than Christmas elf. Satisfied, I locked up my apartment and headed to the penthouse suite. And my destiny. Okay, that was a little dramatic. Technically, it's just a hook up, but an elf can dream, right? You never knew, if I played my cards right, I could be put into the regular rotation. My cock hardened at the thought. I stepped inside the ornate elevator, and it took me up to the twenty fifth floor. At last, I was standing in front of his door. Santa's door. I pushed the button, and Jingle Bells rang out. I swooned. I'd been waiting years for this, my name had been on the waiting list forever. At long last, it was finally my turn. He opened the door, and grinned. I swooned again. Santa Claus. The sexiest man in the universe. Trust me, he looks nothing like he's portrayed. He leaned against the doorway. His green eyes, how they twinkled, his dimples were merry. His cheeks were like roses, I longed for him to pop my cherry. Well, if I still had my cherry. Hey, I'm two hundred years old, that ship has sailed. But I digress. Santa is a fucking hot stud. His face is free of facial hair, and looks as if it were chiseled by angels. His velvety green eyes are framed with long thick lashes, and his lips are perfectly shaped, with a delectable pout. Then, there's that body. It's broad and muscular with smooth skin. At almost 7 feet, he's a towering mass of delicious manly goodness. He was wearing red silk boxer shorts, with a cock so big, the tip was poking out through one of the legs. "See anything you like?" he asked with a sly smile. I swallowed. "Yes, everything." I could barely speak. "Come here, Jerome." His voice was deep, and seductive. I took a step forward and he pulled me against him. He kissed me softly on the lips. My insides turned to jello and my knees gave out. Santa scooped me up in his arms and carried me to his bed. As I laid there, giddy with desire, he stripped me naked. "Look at you, so beautiful. I can't believe I haven't had you up here yet." He laid on top of me and kissed my lips, more urgently this time. Our tongues met and my fingers ran through his silky, pale blonde hair. It's thick and long, hanging halfway down his back. I moaned softly. "Oh, Santa, I've longed for this." "Oh, Jerome, your nice hard dick is poking me in the gut. Let me give it a quick suck, then the real party can start." His mouth slid down my body, until he got to my cock. I leaned up on my elbows and watched him work. First, his warm tongue licked the head like it was a lollipop. He looked up at me. "Do you like that?" "Yes. You're so gorgeous." He tapped my prick against his outstretched tongue, then licked up and down my shaft. I knew I wasn't going to last long. He seemed to sense it as well, and started pulling me in and out of his mouth. My head spun. I was in Santa's bed and he was deep throating me. Holy reindeer shit. My balls vibrated, and I came inside his hot mouth. He licked up every drop. "Yum. You're delicious." Santa said as he licked his lips. Elf cum tastes like gingerbread. Truth. The warm afterglow washed over me, and I was putty in his hands. I couldn't wait to find out what he was going to do next. "That's a sweet cock you've got there, Jerome. I'll bet your tight hole is just as tasty. Let me see it." I pulled my legs back and grabbed my knees. My cock was already starting to firm up again as I watched him look at my ass. He smiled, and ran a fingertip lightly over my pucker. I moaned. "Look at that, so pink and tight." His finger rubbed a little harder. "Do you like that?" I nodded. "Would you like me to use my tongue?" "Yes, please." He massaged my asshole with his hot tongue, over and over. Then, he moved up and sucked my balls. He alternated between the two areas until my eyes glazed over and I was panting. Santa sat up and smiled at me wickedly, then he reached into a drawer in his nightstand and pulled out a small bottle of lube. He poured some onto his fingers, then rubbed them over my pucker. One slid inside and I cried out with joy. He leaned over and kissed me as he finger fucked my ass. "Oh, Santa, I'm going to cum again." I moaned against his lips. "Cum in my mouth, cutie." His lips wrapped around my cock, and his finger went deeper inside me, then he added another. I tried to hold back, but I was too turned on, so I shot my load against his waiting tongue. "Mmmm. My favorite flavor." He pulled his fingers out and I felt so empty. I whimpered. "Don't worry, Jerome, I'll be filling you up again with something bigger. First, more kissing." He pulled me on top of his hard body and we kissed like lovers. His fingers couldn't seem to stay away from my ass, and he teased my hole some more. I felt his stiff cock against my stomach. "Santa, I need to taste your delicious dick." "By all means, enjoy yourself." he said. He looked so happy lying there, his cheeks were flushed and his hair slightly damp. I kissed his neck, then worked my way slowly down his body, savoring every inch. His nipples were firm under my tongue, and I nibbled on them with my teeth. One of his nipples was pierced with a small gold ring, and I teased it with my mouth until he squirmed. I moved down and ran my tongue over all the ridges in his six pack, then buried the tip of my tongue in his belly button. He giggled. "Santa, are you ticklish?" "Maybe a little. Jerome, you're sexy." He played with my hair. I smiled at him, then started licking his cock through the silk boxers. "Yeah, that's nice." He was at half mast, and I was anxious to get him completely hard. I pulled his shaft through the fly and tasted it for the first time. You heard it here, people, Santa's dick tastes like sugar cookies. No lie. It was all I could do not to bite it. I took my time with it, savoring the taste and the silky feel of it under my tongue. I wanted to see the rest of him, so I finally tugged off his red boxers. Then I saw his cock in it's full glory. It was about eleven inches long, and thick, but not too thick. His balls were firm and compact, perfect round globes of peach fuzzed perfection. His pubic hair was soft as mink, and perfectly shaved so only a small patch sat above his dick. I ran my fingers over it as I sucked his balls, it was like velvet. He was moaning and his hips twitched in passion. Pride ran through me as I realized how much I was turning him on. I took his long shaft into my mouth and sucked while I rubbed the smooth area between his balls and asshole. He spread his legs for me. The sugary sweetness of his cock made me drool and soon he was dripping with spit. I wanted to taste his hole, so I gently rolled him over onto his stomach. He bent his legs and put his perfectly chiseled ass in the air. It was a heavenly sight. His pucker was tight and perfect. I licked it all over, then darted my tongue inside. He cried out. I poured some lube over his hole and massaged it in with my fingers. "There's some toys in the drawer if you'd like to use some." Santa said hopefully. I opened the drawer and looked inside. A glass dildo in the shape of a giant candy cane caught my eye. I greased it up, and slid the straight end of it inside his ass. "Yeah, that's good." "Fuck, that's hot." The sight of him lying there with his ass pointing up at me and a giant candy cane moving in and out of his hole got me rock hard again. He was completely stiff, too, his cock bobbed up and down as I fucked him with the dildo. I looked back in the drawer and found a nice thick vibrating plug. I pulled the candy cane out, and slid the plug inside him, then pushed the button. He groaned. I got on my back and slid underneath him, so his cock was dangling over my lips. I licked the tip, and his precum coated my tongue. "Santa, you are the sweetest thing I've ever tasted." He fucked my mouth for awhile as I squeezed his ass. My cock was throbbing with need. I slid out from under him and lubed myself up, then pulled the toy from his hole. "Yes, Jerome, fuck me, nice and deep." Santa demanded. "Yes, sir." I knelt behind him and pushed the head of my stiff prick against his opening. It slid in easily and soon I was balls deep. There was a voice in my head screaming "I'm fucking Santa! My cock is in the big guy's hole! Holy reindeer shit, I'm drilling the boss man's tight ass!" I smiled and rode him hard while I caressed his smooth skin. His moans of pleasure were music to my ears. "You're so beautiful, your ass is so tight." I whispered softly against his shoulders. "You're hitting my sweet spot, dead on, it's driving me crazy." He pushed back against me and I drilled his ass like a madman. "You're making me cum, baby." I wanted to taste him, so I pulled out and laid on my back. "Cum in my mouth, I need to taste you." He knelt next to my face and I stroked him until his hot jizz landed inside my open mouth. It was such a huge load, it completely filled my mouth, and dripped down my chin. The taste was heavenly, a heady mix of sugar cookies and peppermint. I let it linger on my tongue for awhile before I reluctantly swallowed it. Santa laid down next to me and kissed me, then licked the stray cum off my chin. His fingers stroked my cock, it was as hard as granite. "Look how stiff you are again, I can't believe it." he smiled sweetly and my heart melted like a snowman in the hot sun. "It's so fantastic to be with someone who can keep up with me." "It's because you're so fucking sexy. This has been the greatest night of my life." "Been? Oh, sweetheart, I'm not finished with you yet." We tongue kissed for at least twenty minutes as he fondled my cock. I tried to touch his again, but he nudged my hand away. "Soon, but not yet. Let me just please you for awhile." "Santa, you're spoiling me." I whispered. My voice was husky with lust. "You deserve it, Jerome. Look at this sexy body, this delectable dick. How many years have you worked for me?" "One hundred and eighty, sir." "And I've never tasted you before? Well, you're here now, that's all that matters." His kind words thrilled me. I had been dreaming of this moment for years, and it was exceeding my expectations. He covered my face in kisses, then rolled me onto my stomach, with a soft pillow under my hips. "Are you comfortable, sweetheart?" I nodded. He spread my ass cheeks apart and rimmed me gently. "Oh, it's so good." I moaned. I bent my knees a little to give him better access. The drawer opened, and he slid a small dildo into my ass. It buzzed nicely inside me. He pulled it in and out, fucking me with it gently, stretching my hole. His tongue ran over my ass cheeks and lower back. "Such a sexy ass, it deserves to be worshiped." I knew he would be a kind and charming lover, but nothing had prepared me for this. I was ready to bow before him and pledge my eternal undying love for him. He pulled out the dildo, and teased my pucker with his finger. "Nice and wet and relaxed. Are you ready for me, Jerome? I'd like to fill this sweet hole with my cock. Would you like that?" "Yes, fuck me, Santa. Fuck me until I'm singing Christmas carols out of my dick." He chuckled. "Damn, I'm having fun with you, Jerome." I felt lube dripping into my hole, and then felt the pressure of his huge mushroom head poking against my ass. I groaned with pleasure and gripped the sheets in my fists. I was expecting there to be some discomfort, he had a monster sized dick after all, but to my surprise, it slid up inside me without even a slight twinge of pain. "Oh, Santa, fuck me, it's so fucking good. Your cock feels so good in my ass. Fuck me, fuck my tight hole with your big sugar stick." Dirty talk erupted from my mouth in a long stream. I couldn't help myself. It was bliss. Pure, sexual bliss. He massaged my insides with his massive tool, banging against my sweet spot until I was writhing with pleasure beneath him. I shot my load on the pillow, then quickly grew hard again. He pulled in and out, harder and faster. "Jerome, your ass is so tight and hot." He fucked me into the new year, and I came three times. Finally, he shot his load deep inside my ass, filling me to my eyeballs with warm liquid heat. He collapsed on top of me. The weight of him on top of my naked body made me delirious with joy. "That was amazing." I murmured. He nibbled my earlobe. "You sweet, sexy angel. Would you like to be a regular up here? Say, every Friday night?" he whispered the words directly into my ear. I rolled over under him and wrapped my arms and legs around his silky form. "Really? Every Friday? Seriously?" I kissed his lips, his cheeks, his chin. "Yes. Fuck yes. I would love that. I've dreamed of it forever." Santa smiled, and his green eyes twinkled. "Stay with me tonight, sleep with me in my bed." "It would be my pleasure." I whispered. "I'll see you in the morning, then. Do you know what my favorite thing to eat for breakfast is?" "No. What is it?" "Gingerbread." I giggled and kissed his sweet lips. I was a happy elf, knowing that Santa would be stuffing my stocking every week for the rest of eternity. It was a very Merry Christmas, indeed. * _Hope you enjoyed my first story, Happy Holidays!_ David and I were married in sort of whirlwind fashion. I was about to start another semester of college and he was stationed on a destroyer in San Diego. We had dated through our senior year in high school, with him leaving soon after graduation for the service. I chose to go to a local community college, secretly thinking that this might happen before he got out of the Navy. I didn't want to start a four-year program only to have it disrupted. As it happened, he called me one week and we were married in a hastily put together wedding two weeks later. We packed what we had in a U-Haul and drove on out, settling in to a small apartment that he had already arranged. Things were great. Even though he occasionally would go to sea for a week at a time, he was always back for at least some part of the weekend. We were alone, we were together, and we were happy. I was able to enroll in a community college there and got a small part time job in an attorney's office. Financially, we were tight but comfortable if we watched our spending. The only problem was that we knew that in six months or so he was going to be deployed on what the sailors referred to as a WestPac tour, sending him into the Asian area for six months. You can imagine my concern and disappointment when he walked in three months after I was there and with a long face informed me that operational requirements over there called for them to leave almost immediately. "You are going to become a WestPac Widow," he joked. That was the name the sailors put on the wives left behind. It was a little bit notorious in that it was thought that the first few days after a formation moved out there were a lot of available women around. In the two weeks that we had left before he deployed, we made the decision that I would stay there and continue in school, much to the concern of my parents. We took care of business and each other until the day he left. I was bawling like a baby as I watched the formation leave the bay, but when I got home I quickly determined that I was a twenty year old woman on her own and had to get my act together. The everyday living was easy enough. School, work and more school kept me busy. I was having a very difficult time with one of my math courses and spent a lot of time studying and at the school math lab with math tutors. As I struggled with it, I began to struggle with something else. Sex with David was sweet and loving, but not great. I would never have told him, but I had never reached an orgasm with him. I had an older sister that I confided in and she said for me not to worry. It would come in time with him. Basically, he was caring and gentle in his foreplay and sex, but always seemed to get excited and stop short of bringing me off. My release came as a result of my own talented fingers. This was my struggle. Within a week after David was gone, I found myself wanting him so badly that my hands were constantly on myself. Two or three times a night was common, and I did it at least once in the morning and afternoon regardless of where I was; work, school or home. The immediate satisfaction was rewarding, but I always slipped back into the mode of wanting him. I guess that I was dealing real well with everything else, but what I felt was abandoned was my pussy. Beyond this, things were looking up. My little job was perfect and I got a new tutor at school that really was great. He was so different from everybody else. For one, he seemed to understand that some people just don't grasp algebra and have to be taught slowly step by step. The other difference was his appearance. Instead of the studious guy with thick glasses, he was huge and extremely good-looking. I knew he was providing this service as part of a graduate program, but it only was by asking around that I found that he played football on a little semi-pro team in the area as well. That's why he was in such good shape. We had to sign up on a weekly basis for assistance, and suddenly he was always my mentor. This meant that I saw him at least three times a week. Being around him that much meant that we got to know each other personally. Although we both kept it friendly but professional, little personal things started to creep in. It was in that time period that I started to really sense his presence on a sexual level. His nice personal appearance and especially his size didn't escape me. I made sure I showed no signs of interest, but after a lonely night his smell and the sound of his voice was enough to make me moist. He went from slowly creeping into my thoughts as I masturbated to being the dominant one, slowly pushing David aside. I'm sure it was just because of my almost daily contact with him. Still, my level head kept it contained to just that and there would be no problem. Then one Friday afternoon before a three-day weekend I was in the math lab with him. The lab has a large communal area and many small rooms for private sessions. Since it was a long weekend, it was empty except for us. I sensed an urgency about him and assumed that he wanted to hurry and get out even though that was not his normal attitude. We entered one of the rooms in the very back and started going over my assignment. He never sat down as he normally would, so I stood with him, assuming he wanted to get in and out that day. I misjudged his intentions. He positioned himself behind me as we stood in front of the table. As I started my usual routine of showing him what was happening, I became more than aware of his breathing on my neck from very close range. Without turning, I could tell that his face was almost into my neck. Immediately, I pulled away even though it was a nice moment. We went on talking as if all was normal. Again, I felt his face against me, this time actually feeling his lips on my neck. I separated us again, but this time I gave a slight shudder and what may have been an involuntary little audible sound. I'm sure he picked up on it. I was wearing a plain blouse and a relatively demure skirt, dropping down to almost the top of my knees. As the presence of his lips on my neck turned to small kisses, I was concentrating on trying to avoid any embarrassing confrontation with him when I realized that inch-by-inch his hands were slowly lifting the hem of my skirt. I was able to break out of it pretending to have to reach over for a workbook, but as soon as I straightened up he moved back over and started it all over again. His kisses were bolder and his fingers more aggressive. I had to make my move. "Chris, we can't do this," I told him. His response was a muted sigh and more kisses. When I felt the skirt coming above mid thigh, I put my hand on his wrist and told him to stop right then. He complied, dropping the skirt but moving his hand to my midriff, caressing it slowly and softly. I jerked back in reaction. This was worse than the skirt going up. I was extremely sensitive there and could feel every nerve he touched. As he moved his lips up the side of my neck and started searching for my mouth, his left hand found my breast. Gently pinching my nipple through the thin bra, I sagged a little with the sensation. "Please, Chris. I need to go," I said softly. "I can't do this." His answer to my plea was to turn me around and give me a small, gentle kiss on the lips. Despite my denials to him, I felt it all the way down to my toes, hitting everything in between. I should have pulled away immediately and left the room. Instead, I'm sure he took my hesitation as approval and did it again. Instead of a small peck, he caught me by surprise when it was warm and full. Even when he pulled away it wasn't completely, as he kept gentle contact with my mouth and began running his tongue lightly just inside my lips. My body ignored my mind then and responded, meeting his mouth with mine, our tongues touching. How could it be so wrong and so good? His hands left my stomach and breast and returned to my skirt, again inching it up slowly in the back, as his lips never left mine. This time I didn't stop him, allowing him to come all the way up. I felt his hands on my panties, gently massaging the globes on both sides. I don't know where my senses were centered at that time, on his mouth or at his hands. All I know was that it was a very warm and pleasant sensation for a body that had been without for so long. I gave in to his kisses, a reluctant yet willing participant. As he began moving from my mouth to my neck and ears, I let out a little whimper and put my hand behind his neck. As to whether or not I was a willing partner was of no doubt to him then, his kisses like fire to me. My body was moving in a slow rhythm with him and I was so engrossed with his mouth that I hardly sensed the downward motion that was removing my panties from me. He left them halfway down my legs, then turned me slowly around. Through all of this he was completely silent, but his breathing and the look on his face gave him away. His hands left me to quickly unbutton my blouse, pulling it aside to expose my breast barely sheathed in a red low cut sheer bra. It was one of David's favorites because my nipples peeked out of the top. He made an "U-m-m-" sound gently buried his face in my breast, his lips finding the nipples protruding over the top. Using just his mouth, he nudged the top down so that he had full access to my nipples, which he took in his mouth, one than the other. My eyes were closed, my head back, as I took in all this attention. It felt wonderful! This was not the first time my breast was in somebody's mouth, but it was so different. Warm and wet, soft yet strong and determined. I let myself slide into the moment, leaning back onto the table and opening and closing my legs slightly as he would suck gently then lightly clip each nipple with his teeth. It just seemed natural when I felt his hand come up the inside of my leg, searching for the junction. He found it, wet and moving back and forth. He began an immediate tease, his fingers light over my lips, never ceasing to explore me. His lip on my breast had turned from nibbles to demanding, his mouth forcing my bra down so that he could suck on them hard, trying to take all of it in his mouth as if he was starved, nipping my nipples with his teeth, sometimes a little painfully. My mouth, having no place to go, just stayed open and emitted little whimpers and groans, giving him all the support that he needed. If I were to feel bad about this it would have to be later. Right now I was in heaven. His fingers found my clit and started a steady, slow circular motion. My hips rotated with it, making little circles in response to his touch as my legs started a small up and down motion as if they were not able to sustain my weight. In short, my whole body was in a constant motion in reaction to his mouth and hand. In the past, it was always right about now that all my sensations were doused. David always stopped to go inside me, normally for a quick release, leaving me in a blissful agony that I had to subdue as soon as I could behind his back. Instead, Chris's fingers left my clit only to find their way inside of me, two huge fingers piercing me with their size and strength, causing me to moan loudly and buck against them rapidly. He slowed down, much to my disappointment, but then rocked my head back when he curled them up in a forward motion and slowly caressed the front of my walls. I had to make a real effort not to scream with the surprise and pleasure. I had never came close to feeling anything like it before. He kept it up forever, never speeding up, never slowing down, but changing pressure regularly to bring me to a peak and back down again. Finally, his mouth was on mine again and he returned to my clit, this time with a furious, hard motion. I jerked up and down, my legs flailing around as I leaned against the table. The orgasm came as never before, ripping through me as if it were leaving nothing for another day. The only thing keeping me from screaming was the constant pressure of his mouth on mine, and even then he was getting a mouthful. My arms were so tight around his neck they hurt, as I couldn't stop pounding my hips forward against his hand. Where had this been all my life? I could hardly tell when the first one stopped and the second started, but I came again, this time more forceful than the first. He had gone back inside me with his fingers, this time keeping them straight and pounding me unmercifully with them in long, hard strokes as fast as he could. I couldn't stop coming, and he wouldn't stop making me. He laid me back across the table so he could stand over me, my skirt up high now, my legs wide, and all the action clearly in his view. Finally, in total exhaustion, I slid my hands down to take his, slowing the action down to a small trickle of intense pleasure. Thinking he would quit, I was pleasantly surprised when he leaned over to kiss me, taking a breast in one hand and continuing his very slow, very gentle action between my legs. He brought me to the slowest, sweetest, longest orgasm I could ever have imagined. With that, he gently pulled me up and helped me get dressed. He finally spoke. "Are you all right with this? I didn't mean to take advantage." I nodded more than spoke. "You enjoyed it. I've never seen anybody come so hard." This time, my lack of response brought a small kiss from him. Then, in my stunned silence, we left as quietly as we had entered the room. I could barely get home before my hand was between my legs again. What in the world had happened? How did it go so far so fast? Why did I enjoy it so? But mostly, how was I to know it wasn't over? She had decided to do something special for his birthday. She had him set aside small amounts of money every pay day and hand it over to her. She had collected enough for her plans. She packed a suitcase with all of the things that they would need and put it in the car. She had had him take the next day, his birthday off from work. When he arrived home she told him to get in the car. She gave him an address to drive to. They soon arrived at the hotel she had picked out. She had gone up earlier in the day and registered and paid for the room so they could go straight in to the room. She had him take the suitcase and follow her. She opened the door and led him in. "Happy birthday." She said with a smile, "Your party will start soon." She sent him into shower and shave his body. While he was in there she sent two texts with the address and time that she would meet them in the lobby. After he finished she inspected him and slipped on his chastity device and locked it. She then opened up the suitcase and laid out a corset, a short skirt and a shear top, lacy black padded bra and stockings for him to wear. She helped him into the corset and he put on the skirt bra and top, than sat to pull up the stockings. She helped him on with his wig and placed a collar around his neck. She applied his makeup and lipstick and smiled at the effect. She had dressed similarly and loved the contrast between the two of them. Looking at her watch she had him kneel next to the bed and blindfolded him. She whispered "The presents should have arrived." and left him there as she went to the lobby. She met the two men she had texted in the lobby and led them to the room. They were both younger and she noticed one in particular watching her ass as they went to the room. She opened the door and they went in. Pointing to her husband she said "This is Alice and it is her birthday." Leading one of the men over to Alice she rubbed his crotch and felt him harden at her touch. She undid his pants and freed his cock. Smiling she took Alice's hand and placed it on his cock. She smiled as Alice ran his hands over the cock gently stroking it. The man reached over and took Alice's head and pulled it to his hard cock, brushing Alice's lips. Alice giggled and slowly wrapped his lips around the head and prepared to take it in. His wife smile at the hesitancy yet underlying eagerness in Alice's face as he took more and more of the cock in his mouth. She went and stood beside the second man and gave his cock a rub so he didn't feel left out. He was already hard from the action he was watching in front of him. She led him over to Alice and then had the men swap places. Then second was a little larger than the first and she knew Alice would have a little trouble with his cock. She stroked the first mans cock keeping him hard as they watched Alice sucking the second mans cock. The second man cradled Alice's face as he forced more and more of his cock in, fucking his face with a gentle grace. She slip a condom over the first mans cock. She then went over to Alice and tugged his collar. He stopped sucking cock and stood up. She led him to the bed and had him get on all fours his head over the end of the bed. The second man walked around and pushed his cock into Alice's mouth. She took some lube and flipped up the back of Alice's skirt and drizzled some on his ass. She then lubed the first mans condom covered cock. She patted the bed and he climbed up and positioned himself behind Alice. She took his cock in hand and rubbed it around the lubed pucker of his ass. She helped him slowly feed his cock into Alice's boy pussy. Alice whimpered and pushed back slowly taking his cock in. She stood back and watched as the two men continued to give Alice his present. Her hand slipped up under her skirt and she fingered herself as she watched. Alice was moaning and whimpering like a bitch in heat with a cock in at either end. The first was burying his cock right up to his balls in Alice's virgin ass as he was gagging on the second cock beating in and out of his mouth. The action slowed for a minute as the second man decided he wanted a turn at Alice's boy pussy. The first man moved and the second on donned a condom and crawled up behind Alice. She found herself turned on as Alice moaned as the larger cock slid in. She laid down on the bed beside Alice and smiled at the first man (he had been eyeing her ass) and spread her legs. He knelt on the bed between her legs and slid his cock into her dripping pussy. She watched Alice getting his pussy pounded as he mount her and slowly started fucking her. Alice was in a frenzy, a large cock in his boy pussy as he heard his wife sigh as she was also riding a cock. "Fuck my slut pussy" he said as the second man slid in balls deep holding his ass and pumping his cock in and out. Side beside the two of them now sharing his present, both determined to fuck the men silly. As he rode the cock in his ass he heard his wife groan and felt the bed shudder. He slammed his boy pussy into the cock riding him and felt the man behind him shudder as he came in his ass. They all collapsed in a tangle on the bed. Once they had all recovered the two men let themselves out. "Happy birthday you little slut" she whispered.

My Love, As I linger on the rocks looking out across the ocean, I can feel the salty spray gathering on my skin and think to myself what a wonderful glorious fantastic delicious day. I can feel the warmth of the sun beaming down on my face, the delicate scent of lilacs is lingering in the air, and I am so in love. The world is truly accurate when they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder for my longings for you have grown steadily with each passing day. The memories of your smell, your touch and your playful laughter fill each day. This day has been as all the others before it since your parting…filled with longing for you. The morning breeze tosses my hair as the hypnotizing waves make me wonder if you are standing on a sandy beach looking back at me. You whose pen strikes a fire in my soul, the one I ache to walk on the beach with hand in hand, to playfully touch your skin and run my hands through your silky hair, such a delicious thought. My head leans back and my body arches as I raise my hands skyward and feel the breeze encase my skin, as if your outstretched arms are caressing me. The swirling puffs of air causes my clothing to wrap around me as though you are holding me close. I close my eyes and feel you standing behind me, your gentle touch moving up and down my sides, your hands warm and loving, and I shudder with wanting. I gasp as the chill of the morning causes small orgasmic tremors to move through my body. The touch of the cool moist air is like your tongue moving wantonly between my breasts and down my stomach. My nipples harden as my linen top moves gently over them. So aroused they tighten as the sun gently dries and encases them with the warm salty spray. As the waves lap leisurely onto the shore and kiss my feet like soft silky lips I retreat to my secluded space between earth and sky and once again read the arousing words of your seductive letters. Bunching my skirt underneath me to form a soft cushion I cross my legs and sit on a patch of wet grass while placing your letters in the pocket of my skirt. I listen to the whispers of the sea loving the way it is teasing and calling to me. Cursing as I feel that the distance is cruel, I uncross my legs and lay with my back on the grass. My arms beneath my head and my feet pulled up close to me making my knees tower in front. The breeze is gentle and cool as it moves in under my skirt and caresses my thighs. The radiance of the sun as it dances off the icy white clouds reminds me of the happiness it brings when we are together, tied for eternity by a single thread. Memories resound of embraces shared on this beach, cuddling under the dazzling sapphire sky while the joy of your love surrounds me here. As I lay in the grass the sun moves behind a darkening cloud, the wind picks up and a wave splashes up between my legs causing a shiver to race through my body as it cups my mound before retreating into the sea. My eyes close as I gasp at the chilled finger that kisses and gently moves away. Was that you touching me? Enjoying each wave as it slaps harder and harder onto the shore and me, my eyes remain shut. Breathlessly I lie there as the wind begins to blow and lightening dances from cloud to cloud. The thunder seems to join with the rolling seas as stronger waves that are more insistent roll underneath my body causing my senses to rise to an even higher pitch. I moan as the sea hits between my legs and retreats just to return and hit again. The wind picks up causing the ocean to lurch against the rocks, the lightning strikes closer and faster with the continuous roar of thunder coming without delay, shaking the beach. I groan and roll onto my stomach clasping my hands over my head, covering my ears trying to drown out the sounds of the squall. It is, as if, the storm has joined in our anger, and has connected to the unwelcome tension of our separation. I stand and struggle against the howling winds and flowing sand to make my way to the safety of the cottage. As I near the house, I look back at the emptiness of the beach and wring and twist the salty brine from my drenched skirt then toss my head back squeezing the torrent of salt water from my hair. The thunder continues to howl its anger and turbulent tears tumble down my cheek as I join in its rage. As I reach the safety of the porch, the howling wind of the growing storm encases me like the fist of an unseen giant pulling me back towards the shore. The thunder yells its rage at my attempt to leave and the lightning blazes as if to light my way back, I resist, knowing the futility of trying to cross such a vast distance and struggle against this unseen foe to open the door. As I undo the latch to the house, the storm slams the door against the wall in an attempt to disable my refuge. I dart inside and grab the door in an attempt to shut out the storm. With one last bellow of defiance, the storm engages me in a final dual to block my retreat to safety. Before rummaging through the drawers to find matches to light the oil lamps, I rub my hands up and down my arms trying to warm myself wishing it were you. A streak of lightning startles me…frightening me…as the storm continues to shriek its rage. The room grows even darker as I wrench the curtains closed. Now in total darkness I fumble for the lamps to create an oasis of light in this desert of darkness. The letters… protected… sit on the kitchen table. Drenched to the bone and shaking with cold my fingers fumble with the buttons of my blouse and skirt as I let them drop to the floor in a sodden mass. I look down and can see the tiny lumps of flesh rise as the cold embraces my body, and wish that you were here to chase them away with your warm soothing touch. After putting on one of your old soft flannel shirts that I keep on a chair near the door, and buttoning it down, I place some logs in the fireplace and sit with matches in hand lighting torn pieces of yesterday’s news. Placing the tiny-wadded shreds of paper between the wood, I watch as the timber starts to flare and increase the luminescence of the room. You always hold me so close when the storms hit. You know how terrified I become, how my body braces against yours with your arms wrapped around me, protecting me. I miss you so. Canvassing my surroundings and feeling warm and safe I return to the kitchen and spy your letters still sitting on the table. They disappear into the sleeve of your shirt as I reach for them and return to the warmth of the fire. With the storm still howling outside I curl up beside the fire and start to read each word once again. You share what is happening in the land so far away and I envision all you tell me as my hand runs down your shirt, opening the top buttons, you always liked it better that way. Your words continue and then you start to tease… You write of how you enjoy placing your hand under my chin and raising it to meet your lips as your tongue attacks mine and how you love it when I press my mouth against yours with such urgency, how you love the downy texture of my throat as you nuzzle my neck. You say you love to feel the goose bumps that form on my arms as your hands slowly move down them then back up my sides. I love these words. A tremor of passion moves through my body and I can almost taste your lips on mine as I read. I take a deep breath and move closer to the fire. Lying on my back, I hold your letter in one hand and begin to unbutton my shirt. Each button slides open as my fingers move over them then inside as I run my hand across my breasts then down my stomach. My skin still feels cool from the driving rain as my hand moves further down into the patch of wet between my thighs. Your persistent words continue to tease creating a want in me, a fire that only you can quench. Rolling onto my stomach and standing, my now open shirt reveals all of me to the emptiness of the house. As I reach the bedroom door and look inside, I realize that the emptiness of the beach and the house is nothing more than my longing for you. I revel in the beauty of our private room, the tossed pillows and the down comforter that swallows our bed. Too tired to dress for the night I let the old flannel shirt drop onto the throw rug beside the bed and curl up naked under the sheets wrapping my arms around a lonesome pillow as I at last fall asleep…the storm still raging outside. +*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+ A loud earth shattering explosive clap of thunder wakes me and I hear the door in the living room crash open. Jumping out of bed and grabbing the flannel shirt I race towards the living room to find you standing in the open doorway, drenched…the lightning crashing behind you. My feet barely touch the wooden floors as I race towards you. Devilishly handsome, the outline of your shoulders strain against the fabric of your wet half-open shirt, revealing a powerful chest covered with crisp brown hair. You drop your pack and catch me in your sturdy muscular arms…twirling me around and holding me against your chest as my arms lock around your neck. Your foot catches the door and slams it behind us as my mouth searches for yours, never wanting to let you go. Parting my lips as your mouth presses against mine I can feel the cold rain soaked clothes your wearing and the warmth of your mouth as you kiss me…the extreme disparity causes familiar chills to run up and down my spine. Unwillingly dropping from your arms, my feet feel the floor under them once again as I press up against you and begin to loosen your tie. I unwrap it from around your neck and let it slip through my fingers and fall to the floor. Drops of moisture cling to your damp forehead as you teasingly toss your head spraying me with the rain-drenched moisture in your hair as I continue to unbutton your shirt. Wrapping your arms around me, crushing me against you, you raise my chin once again to meet your mouth, our tongues entwine, playing as though the desire of the moment is all that we need to survive. With our mouths still locked you bend down and lift me into your arms, my arm drapes around your neck as my other hand begins to move inside your shirt…gently running my fingers through the hair on your chest. I love the way you are holding me as you carry me into our bedroom and with one free arm toss the comforter onto the floor before laying me on the pillows. I watch as your hips start to rotate and you slide your fingers down the buttons of your shirt, slowly teasing me as each open button shows more and more of your chest. Grinning and turning with your back to me you look over your shoulder and wink then let your shirt drop off each broad tanned shoulder and slip down each arm to the floor, you then turn and face me as your hands start to loosen your belt. Biting my lower lip as I half sit up in bed and bunch a pillow under myself, I watch as you continue to unfasten your belt. You fall to your knees and slide across the floor towards the bed and with one quick snap remove the belt from its loops tossing it across the room. I am laughing, so hard, as I reposition myself on my elbows and press the pillow under my chest, watching as you slowly unzip your slacks. You stand and lean towards me catching my mouth; you kiss me hard, one hand teasing my breast as the other hand moves down my back then you move away. With your back to me, you let your slacks slowly fall to the floor and flex your butt cheeks as you look around at me with a devious grin on your face. Dancing with your hands above your head you move across the room to the stereo and turn the volume of the bass up and the treble down, letting the beat of the drums fill the air. Getting up from the bed, I meet you in the center of the room and my hands start to move through the wisps of curled hair on your chest. You close your eyes. My fingers begin making small circles down your stomach as my tongue plays with your skin, tasting you for the first time in so long. My mouth continues to follow my hands as they move down your thighs and down your legs, kissing and loving the way your body is moving to the sounds. Kneeling in front of you as your body continues to move to and fro with the music my hand moves up between your thighs…fondling the large weighty spheres…holding them as my tongue moves up the long thick smooth glassy surface of your shaft before swallowing it in the warmth of my mouth. You sway slowly in and out of my mouth to the beat of the drums, my hair tangles around your fingers as you press down on my head. Then leaning down and placing your hands under my arms you draw me back up to your mouth and press your body against mine…we kiss and you wrap your arms around my waist, my body engraving itself against your chest…still swaying to the drums. Backing me across the room as your legs straddle my frame I feel the bed press against me as it bends my knees and your arms hold me as I begin to fall, you pin me against the bed with your weight. Your mouth leaves mine and you grasp both my hands and hold them over my head against the bed as you start to nibble on my neck then down between my breasts. Moving down my stomach your hand reaches for the wetness between my thighs. My legs begin to part more as the burning passion inside me grows more demanding. You let go of my hands, move between my legs and kiss down my thighs. I can feel your tongue as it begins to explore between my lips. Your mouth nibbles, squeezing down around the small button, sucking, slow, gentle touches, as breathless urgent gasps catch in my throat. Then inserting a muscular finger inside me, you find my special spot as your mouth and tongue continue to tease my desire. I lean down and bring your mouth to mine, kissing you, holding you as you straddle me and I feel your erection, your gorgeous blood filled cock against my swollen glands. Spreading my legs even further and pulling my knees to my chest, I move my hand down and line you up as you move closer, the hot thick distended flesh of your cock pausing just inside the wetness… With one swift movement you thrust inside me sending me almost over the edge before you pull out and wait…kissing me, kissing my breasts, biting my nipples and running your hands down my stomach…then back up my arms as you grasp my hands and hold them tightly once again over my head… Again, you lunge into me…burying yourself in my folds…taking my breath away…bringing me even closer… You pull out again and I moan as I feel you just at my entrance. I gaze into your eyes as you lean over me, you grin, as you look down at me then again lunge into me causing my body to arch towards you. With the sound of the drums providing the rhythm for your thrusts with each beat, my hips move with yours, grinding my mound against your body until all I can hear is your breath like a heaving bellows in rhythm with the beat of the drums. My hands pinned against the bed and my body restrained underneath you, you blanket me with your warmth. I can feel you pulsating, your breathing deepens and your thrusts get harder, faster, as you plunge deep inside me. Tremors start surging through my body…I can feel every muscle and texture of you as you fill me. A rush begins to travel through me, my stomach tightens as my insides begin to grip and release you, my muscles clenching around you…my back arching up…pulling you in. I hear you echoing my moans as I see your jaw tighten and your head rearing back, my mouth dry… gasping for breath, your body tenses against mine then you fall across me, covering me… Gently kissing my neck as you roll to your side, you pull me up against you and wrap your arms around me. I feel your fingers moving through my hair and the familiar warmth of your breath in my ear as I wiggle up against you and fall asleep in your arms. +*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+ As the morning light dances across my eyelids, I wake and reach across the bed expecting to find you beside me but realize it was all a dream, a delicious dream, but a dream nonetheless. I fumble through the drawers and find my pen. Bunching a pillow behind me, I nestle against the headboard of our bed, the breeze gently blowing the sheer curtains of our room and quickly I scribe my first line. My Love, As I linger on the rocks… Have you held love in your hands? When she comes released from the shackles and is given reign to reach for me. She is taken up in my arms and wrapped as she yet quivers. The delicate shivering I feel in each of her muscles as they melt into mine gives me wave upon wave of sensate delight. Her bowed head and fragile cheek placed at the base of my throat while she shakes as though at the very end of a sob. The little shimmying as the violence trails off and slips into beatific memory. My arms encompass her trembling flesh as it melds with mine and I wonder that she has bone and sinew, so lithely does she slip into my encirclement and so fully does she fuse with my body. The ever so slight tremors give me such contentment that I would keep her here in my arms, limp and galvanized, spent and intense, until another dawn would come, but instead I will lay her gently to rest and we will sleep in dreamless, depthless satiety twined together. Before then, I will hold love in my hands. It doesn't slip through fingers like water, nor dance at the edge of self like thought. Her tendered being flows into me like the fluid given to vessel and her opened ipseity washes through my nerves like idea given voice. Her hair smells of henna and frail perspirance and my face buries into it without conscious urging. It overpowers me. Her shoulders shudder with the sigh of fulfillment and my lips find her scalp and caress their way to the back of her neck. They nibble a frisson from her and a soft "oohh!" slips out. Her hand reaches up to move her hair fromout my way and I capture it gently. The wrist carries marks that my lips soothe. Red bracelet lines of tight bindings. They are heated to the sensitive touch of my tongue and I can't help but lick the chafing ever so slightly. The merest flicker of the tip against abraded skin even as a kiss is pushed against the entire circlet, arc by arc. Reminder of the restraints so recently removed and the way she had so uncontrollably pitched and lurched, jerked and squirmed. And screamed. I let the arm go and it floats there, suspended in liquefied inertia before gradually releasing. My fingers braid with hers on the other hand and I bring that wrist to my mouth to salve the burning. The skin here is even more denuded as her right hand struggled on after the left surrendered in fatigue. Her upper arms shake with the movement and the spasms I feel through her body send molten want splashing over my senses. I kiss her fingers before releasing them this time and her hand stays. Finally settling on my shoulder as my chin drops to her graceful neck and ever so slightly nudges bits of flesh. Her head falls back with a wracking silent moan and my mouth moves over the sweetly scented integument. The cords that would normally hold her head high are relaxed and sublimated. The muscles that stretched for me so often over the past hours now are pools of post fulminate tissue. She hasn't the strength for more but hasn't the will to desist and if I demanded it of her, she would take me inside anew. I don't insist on this. It's much, much more that I take from her now. My kisses and licks and nibbles move over her collar - the bone (I don't collar my slave, my pet, there is no need) - and they move to the hollows beneath and at the base of her throat. She ever so weakly writhes as I touch my mouth to the top of her breast and the feebleness makes me tender and yet strikes me as aphrodisiac as well. Her stirring is mimicked in my groin and my tongue feathers the traces left upon her by the quirt. The thin lines roughened by the leather that crisscrossed the plump and frail, delicious skin of her breast and my hunger drives me to flutter my tongue over every morsel of exquisite fullness. Breathless tickles of the delicate tracks and between, over the delicious moulds. The tendrils had flickered across her heaving chest as I drove into her from behind. The mounds of her buttocks grabbed and raised while my relentless pole rammed and piled into her narrow tunnel wetness, and the strips of hide flicked at the wavering globes. Each snick leaving the thinnest rail behind as it raised for another. Just as the screams changed tempo and the shuddering reached crescendo, I let her hips fall. Pulled out of her grasping hole, gave one more lash on swaying breast, moved around and took her head in my hands to bring her mouth up and onto my throbbing member. Twice more she felt the pounding and the flogging and the internal stirring and the shaking and twice more left to cry out and work to beg around the sides of the rock hard cock stuffing itself between her teeth and on into her throat. Twice more, then a break. A restful massage and whispered lovings. Then again and back to the merciless pounding of my rock hard cock and slashing welts of the leather straps. The memory of it drives me to suck the tender flesh into my mouth with vigor and need, but I hold to the sweet breezes caused by my barely lapping tongue. Both breasts bathed with the gentlest of caresses, my lips move their way back to her neck and her langorous moans could easily stir my passions were I not so completely sated and so fully mesmerized by her indisposition. She is so well spent. Having given everything to me in her thralls. When my hands work their way through the puddled muscles and over the pooled tendons, she sinks further into me as though it were possible. As though she were not already so consummately mingled with my body that I know of nothing but the two of us together. Her head droops onto my chest again as my mouth creeps up her neck and over her jawline and toward her lips. That beautiful opening that so willingly accepted my aching rod again and again. Where my hands pressed into the back of her head and my pulsating hardness pushed its way over the soft, firm surrounds. Where her mouth closed around my cock and it was so drenched with her juices that they were squeezed off and around and sent to dribble in a streaming down the cleft of her chin, thence to drip and splatter on the bed we share and as the hardness forced itself in and out of her throat, this intemperate battering tool of mine, the belt from my pants rose and fell over her round delicious bottom. Lifted and slapped, pumped and pushed, the rhythm sending me into near spasms of bliss before I could halt, gasping and panting. I know, sitting with her melded against me now, that should my fingers stretch out over her gorgeous globes of ass that there would be hot wheals between the cool firmness of tautened skin. I kiss her mouth, nibbling at first the top, then the bottom, then both lips together. The briefest hint of tongue and hard muscle, then back to the soft chastising. She moans freely now, though it seems wan and listless. My hands roam and knead. Her shoulders, back, upper arms and sides. My fingers rove down her forearms and squint between her digits. My kisses slip up onto her nose and over her cheeks. One, then the other. Her eyebrows, and the eggshell thin eyelids that close with repletion. Her forehead is chastened as I remember nudging her clit with my tongue and backing away until she screamed and pleaded. Over and over. Once, taking time to tell her a story of want and need before moving back to lap at her sweet nectar. She begged and sobbed for deliverance and when I placed my cock into her mouth, turned on the vibrator already stuffed deep inside her and tapped her clit with my belt, there was even a prismatic teardrop trickling from the corner of her deep brown pools of sensuousness. A rainbow filled dew that trickled over my spine and filled my balls to bursting with ache and anguish. The chafing marks on her wrists will be mirrored on her ankles where she thrashed and undulated. And when she came, she screamed as I'd never heard from her before. An out of control vocalization that struck the root of my pole and made it leap with anticipation. Driving into her wetness that time brought such preternatural delight that I shiver still with the vision. So wet that there was splattering against my thighs, so tight that slamming it all the way into her took such force and concentration that it seemed hours before I could explode. Hours with her wildly contorting, convulsing with orgasm after orgasm, one on another and my own coming on top of her screams and mad utterings such that I couldn't tell the difference between our selves. Her orgasms were mine and the furious pumping had such reaction within her that it was surely her own ejaculate sending her into those spasms. As certain as it was mine alone, it was ours together. By the time my mouth finds her ear, her body quakes and her throat constricts while merest whispered moans suspire and I think she would rise and welcome me inside her if I but gave indication of my want. Try, at least, to bring her self and her body to take me once more if I so needed. I do not. I need just this. Us. Together. "You did so good," I whisper. "My, what a good little sub you are. My good little sub." I feel her last bit of self slip away and she is insensate in my arms. Love in my hands. Not the liquid or the sensation, but the actual truth. The stark naked flayed openness of her. After. And with the help of my hands, she flows onto the bed and lies where I lie and some time tomorrow or the next day we will wake.

Amanda Likes Japanese Girls by Vincent Part 1 Amanda was in her bath robe sitting on her bed, waiting for the sound she's waited for every night this week. Amanda had a crush. She knew it was the real thing, because when she met Hina for the first time her teeth tingled. It was a dead give away. Every time she met someone that piqued her love interest she had that same reaction, tingling teeth. Almost all the girls in her wing of the dorm showered in the morning, like most Americans, to wash away the sleepy. Now Amanda showered at night, usually late, because she waited until she heard the footsteps of the Japanese exchange student at the end of the hall on her way to the shower. Two nights she missed the sound all together, twice there were other girls in the shower room, and once Hina went back to her room because she'd forgotten something. She heard the distinct flip flop sound of bathroom slippers going past her door, but decided to wait a few minutes to make sure her love interest had already entered the shower when she arrived. Amanda didn't want to allow her another excuse to go back to her room, claiming she forgot her conditioner or something. She grabbed her towel and shampoo and headed down the hall. There was nobody in the changing room, but Amanda could hear the shower running. She put her robe in a locker and went into the shower room. There were partitions between the showers, but there weren't any doors. Two rows of three showers went down each side and at the far end there was a bathtub. Amanda grew up on a Wisconsin dairy farm with two younger brothers. She was no stranger to hard work or rough play. She played softball and basketball in high school, and developed an athletic figure that complimented her blond haired, farm girl beauty very well. In fact, she became a Badger on a softball scholarship. When she entered the shower naked Hina turned to watch the gorgeous Amazon in motion. She couldn't help thinking it was the most athletic body she had ever seen on a girl and part of her wished she looked just the same. Hina thought her new friend must be very confident and proud. "Hey there, Hina," Amanda said with a big smile, "How was your day?" What she really wanted to say was, "You look so beautiful nude and I want to make love with you." Hina was almost the opposite of Amanda, the top of her head only came up to Amanda's chin. She had the typical delicate features of an Asian woman, a slim body, small round breasts, creamy beige skin, and big hazel colored eyes that melted Amanda's heart. "It was ok," Hina said, "It's just that I have a hard time understanding some of my professors." "You're lucky. I can't understand any of mine." Amanda stepped into the stall across from Hina and turned on the water. As she wetted herself and began to rub soap on her body she stole glances at Hina. Amanda watched her skin glisten as the lather washed down her body onto the floor. Her bathing had the aura of an erotic dance as she twisted and bent to reach all her places. She imagined what it would be like to move with her, to kiss the skin the foam surrendered. For a moment their eyes locked breaking Amanda's thoughts. She suddenly became aware she had been unconsciously rubbing the bar of soap back and forth over her vagina. Moreover she realized Hina had seen her. Amanda needed to cover her embarrassment. "If you need any help with your classes, I would be glad to go over some material with you," she offered. "Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that. You have school and softball and other things. I'm sure you are so busy," Hina replied, but actually thought she could really use the help. "Not at all. I usually waste too much time in the evenings; anyway you just live down the hall. I'll kick you out if I get too busy" "Ok, that would be nice." They exchanged smiles. "I hope you don't mind me saying," Hina continued, "you have a beautiful body." "Thank you," it pleased Amanda to hear Hina say that. "You look so strong, yet you are so, uh, like a female." "Feminine." "Yes, feminine. Thank you." "See, I can help." "Would you like me too wash your back? It's a tradition in Japan. We wash each other's backs." Amanda wasn't sure what to think, but she liked the idea of closing the physical distance between them. "Sure, that would be nice," she said. Hina shut off her water. She took a washcloth and filled it with soap. The girls looked in each other's eyes for a moment. Amanda wondered if Hina was sharing any of the same feelings. "Turn around," Hina said. She began making small circles on Amanda's back. She started in the middle and had to reach up to get her shoulders, then worked her way down. Hina was doing a very thorough job. "You have beautiful skin." "Thank you. It's from growing up on a dairy farm," the taller girl said, "That feels nice." "What is dairy?" "Oh, it's milk. My family raises cows for milk." "I love cows. They are so cute." "You wouldn't think so if you had to take care of them." "Maybe," Hina said thoughtfully, "but still I would like to see your dairy farm some day." "Sure. It's about a two hour drive from here. We can go for a weekend." "That would be so much fun." Hina didn't stop scrubbing at Amanda's waist. She continued down to her bottom, rubbing the cloth over each buttock and into the space between, admiring her lean shapely ass. Amanda felt the cloth touch her pussy, but it was very brief and couldn't tell if it was intentional or not. "There you go, all done," Hina said, "now you can rinse." Amanda turned to let the stream wash the suds away, but Hina didn't step back. The girls looked at each other silently for a moment, both of them unsure what to do next. They let their gaze lower over each other's bodies, feeling their desire swell. Hina put her hand on Amanda's stomach. "I like touching your body," the smaller girl said, then she broke the silence again, "You don't have any hair there. Do all American girls shave?" It took a moment for Amanda to comprehend the question. "Oh, I suppose it's fashionable these days. I think most girls do." "I want to be an American girl, too. I want to be like you," Hina said. She grabbed her thick black pubic hair in her fingers and pulled. "Japanese girls don't shave. It would be shameful for them." "Why? Nobody would see." "In Japan, hot springs are very popular. People would think a girl is a slut if she shaved." "So you know the word slut? Your English is pretty good." "Japanese people have so much hair, it's black and hard. I don't like it. Would you like to feel?" Amanda reached out, and gently rolled Hina's pubic hair in her fingertips. Amanda felt her heart aching for this sweet girl; she could hardly believe this was happening. Amanda let her hand go flat against Hina's mons pubis and began to move her hand slowly down between her legs. Hina drew a deep breath between her teeth and looked up at her new friend, the girls locked eyes. As Amanda leaned down to kiss Hina they were startled by the noise of the locker room door. Hina quickly turned, grabbed her things and walked out of the shower room just as another girl came in to bathe. By the time Amanda had made it to the locker room Hina had left. She put on her robe and went back to her room. Amanda lay on her bed in her robe thinking about what had just happened. She went over every detail of the encounter in her mind and tried to parse it for veiled meaning. It seemed to her that her crush was returning her feelings, but she couldn't be sure. She worried she had been leading Hina into doing something against her will because she wanted her to. Maybe Hina was too shy or scared to push her away. Also she had left really quickly when they were about to be discovered. On the other hand she didn't pull away when Amanda was about to kiss her, and they touched each other so passionately, so freely. Lying on the bed, Amanda felt excited, confused, scared and hopeful, but mostly she felt a desire to be intimate with Hina. She knew she would never get to sleep unless she made herself come. She could still feel Hina's hand on her stomach and the way the Japanese girl's pubic hair felt in her fingers. She was going crazy thinking that her hand had almost caressed her tiny Asian vagina; she wanted so badly to touch it. Amanda slid her hand inside her robe and down between her legs as she imagined Hina's body, naked, lying next to her. Amanda's smooth skin was still moist from her shower, but her pussy had become very wet. Her fingers glided easily between the folds of her labia. She found her clitoris and with her fingertips began to rub in a circular motion, then up and down, allowing her fingers to enter her pussy, touching sensitive places deep inside. She imagined it was Hina doing this to her. She imagined kissing her soft breasts. It felt good, she began to tingle inside. It gave her some relief from her sexual tension, but she knew it would only be temporary. She could never be fully satisfied until she had Hina for her own. Amanda felt her pleasure growing until her orgasm was certain. She was very skilled at masturbating. Sex partners were difficult to come by for a lesbian in rural Wisconsin, so she had to spend many restless evenings satisfying herself. She could orchestrate a big climax for her pussy, especially when she was this excited about a girl. She built her pleasure up to the edge and let it ease back down several times before she couldn't hold back any longer and went cascading over the edge. Her legs tensed up as she pushed her fingers hard against her clitoris. She felt her pussy pulsating as waves of pleasure rolled over her body. She tried to stifle her scream, the dormitory walls are thin, but the noise came out like a long muffled grunt. After, she lay back on the bed. Her tension was abated, but she certainly wasn't satisfied. There was only one solution for that. She gently massaged her pussy as the contractions faded away and she sank into the bed. Sleep finally found her. The sound of tapping invading Amanda's restless dream brought her back to consciousness. She realized someone was gently knocking on her door. She checked the clock. It was a little past midnight; she'd only been asleep for about an hour. She stood up and opened the door. "I can't sleep," Hina said, "I keep thinking about what happened in the shower." The Japanese girl was standing at the door in a pink t-shirt with "Sunshine Girl" written on it that barely covered her navel, and gray cotton panties. Amanda's heart leaped into her throat at the sight of her crush, at her door, vulnerable, looking so incredibly cute. She couldn't speak. The silence made Hina wonder if she had made a mistake by coming. "Come in," She finally managed to choke out, "I couldn't sleep either. I tried to masturbate, but it didn't help." Hina stepped in and Amanda closed the door behind her. "What is masturbate?" "It's sex with yourself. You touch yourself there." gesturing to Hina's pussy. "Yes, in Japanese we say "manzuri." It means ten thousand rubs. I tried that, too" "Well, it doesn't take quite that many for me." "I'm sorry I ran away in the shower. I was having so many feelings, I was confused and I got scared," Hina said apologetically as the two girls sat on the bed. "Don't worry about it. I think it's a natural reaction." Amanda took Hina's hand in hers. "You were going to kiss me, weren't you?" "Yes. I wanted to." "Amanda, do you like girls?" Hina asked so quietly. "Yes, I do. How about you?" "I've never been with a girl, but I've never been with a boy either." "But you must have feelings, inside. What do you feel?" "I think you are so beautiful and so exciting. You can still kiss me if you want to?" Amanda quietly whispered "very much" as she moved her mouth towards Hina's. The smaller girl lifted up her face and closed her eyes as Amanda pressed her lips on hers. All their anxieties melted away. Both girls felt an electrifying thrill pass through each other's lips into their bodies. They pressed harder as if they were kissing each other with their entire beings. They were instantly intoxicated by their passion for one another. Their arms instinctively wrapped around each other. Their hands began to roam over the other's body. They were eager to be as they were in the shower, naked, close, lost in each other's eyes. Amanda pulled Hina's t-shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. They both looked at the topless girl's breasts. "They aren't as big as yours," Hina said. "But they look so cute." Amanda bent forward and took the small nipple in her mouth. It was so much better than her imagination. She squeezed it between her lips and licked the gentle flesh until it glistened with her saliva, then she did the same to her other breast. Amanda's robe had come open, Hina pushed it off her shoulders and it dropped to the bed. Both girls lay down on the bed facing each other, their legs became intertwined. They spent the next few minutes kissing, touching each other's chests and stomach, running their hands over their lover's ass. They reached the point where they both wanted something more, but Amanda felt she needed to be sensitive to Hina's inexperience. She thought if she went too fast her friend would become uneasy. "So you've never been with anybody before?" Amanda asked. "Not really. Just in junior high school with my friends, we talk about boys in our class and practice kissing. I had one friend, we touched each others...how do you say this?" "Pussy." "We touch our pussy, and we put our pussy together." Hina made a gesture with her fingers to show her meaning. "You rubbed your pussies together? Did you like it?" "It was nice. Then she got a boyfriend and we didn't do that anymore." "Did you want to?" "Yes, I liked her very much." "Would you like to try that with me?" "Yes." Hina said so sweetly Amanda had to take her in her arms and hold her to her against her body. Then the girls looked into each other's eyes, smiled, and resumed their petting. Amanda's hand slid over Hina's ass, under her panties and pushed them down to her knees. Hina kicked her panties the rest of the way off. Amanda drew her hand up over Hina's thigh and hip, around to her stomach and nestled her fingers in Hina's coarse black pubic hair. "You're right, it's so hard and thick. My fingers could get stuck," Amanda said. "I can save you," Hina put her hand over Amanda's and pushed it down further until it covered the opening of her vagina. She guided her lover's hand back and forth. Amanda could feel Hina's wetness coating her fingers. She pressed Amanda's finger against the opening of her pussy and it slipped inside her. Amanda thought her pussy was very small and wondered if two fingers would even fit inside. Hina gasped with pleasure and began grinding her hips against Amanda's hand. She wanted to return the same pleasure to her friend. "You are so good at that," Hina said, "Can I try doing it to you?" "Yes please." "I might not be very good." "Don't worry. I'm going to love it." Without taking her finger out of Hina she lifted her thigh to give Hina easy access to her pussy. Hina looked at the shaved pussy and gently placed her hand flat on her vulva. The girls kissed. Hina gently rubbed her friend until she felt her fingers sliding between the folds of Amanda's labia. "How am I doing?" Hina asked. The girl giggled at each other. "That feels fantastic," she said, "put your fingers inside me." Hina slid two fingers down across Amanda's clitoris and urethra into the opening. She felt the slippery warm wetness coating her fingers. She rubbed her fingers all around the inside of her pussy, reaching into the folds, outlining the contours of all the deep places. Amanda's finger reached the end of Hina's small vagina and she traced her finger around her cervix. She pushed on the opening of her friend's womb, forcing it up into her stomach and wiggled her fingers. The sensation drove Hina crazy with pleasure, she began moaning, "Iku, iku, iku." Hina's body tensed and started shaking; she had never felt a thrilling ecstasy like this before. She pressed her body hard against Amada, trapping their hands between them. Amanda felt her orgasm build and shatter along with Hina's, their moans of pleasure in unison. As the waves of pleasure died down they both rolled onto their back, slow and languid. They giggled and gently caressed each other. "That was so wonderful," Hina said, "nobody touched me like that before. You are amazing." "Thank you," Amanda said, "you are amazing, too. What is "iku?" Hina laughed in embarrassment. "Oh, Japanese people say "iku" when they go..." Hina took Amanda's fingers and squeezed them rhythmically. "How do you say?" "Orgasm. Come. We say I'm coming," she explained. "In Japanese "iku" means "go," I'm going," she said, "Did you coming?" "Yes, I came very big." "Me, too. I came the biggest in my life. I want to come like that every day." The girls sank back into the mattress and stared at the ceiling holding hands. "Do you like playing softball?" "I guess so, but it's a lot more hard work than in high school. People are more serious about winning at the university level." "Do you have friends on your team?" "Sure, we are teammates. We fight for each other." "In Japan, we have an image of softball girls." "What's that?" "They like girls." "Yeah, I guess so. We have that image too, but it's not so true." "How about your team? Do they know you like girls?" "I don't really know who likes what, but it doesn't matter." "Can I watch you play sometime?" "Yes, I would like that. We have home games against Nebraska next week." "Amanda, would you make me come again." "I would like that very much." Amanda rolled over on top of Hina, resting on her elbows so as not to crush the smaller girl. Hina spread her legs and Amanda's hips nestled between her thighs. Amanda's breasts hung down and their nipples pressed together. The girls explored each other's mouths with their lips and tongues. Hina put her hands on Amanda's ass and pulled it tight into her body. She tried to rub her vulva against her partner's. "Your hair is tickling my pussy," Amanda said. "Sorry. I want to cut it off." "It's ok. It feels nice." "I want to put our pussy together." "Good idea." Amanda sat back and put her legs forward. She put her left leg over Hina's right, and the right one under Hina's left leg. They scooted forwards until their pussies touched. They lifted their asses to get more pressure against each other. "I love this," Hina said, "It's much better than with my friend." Amanda put her hands under Hina's ass and raised her up so their clitorises were rubbing against each other. Hina put her hands on Amanda's shoulders and grinded her pussy against her lovers. The girls began to breathe heavily as their pleasure grew, and exchanged kisses frequently. It was a difficult position to maintain, but the ecstasy was intense. The lubricant from the two girls pussies mixed together to cover their vulvas in slippery wetness. Their tender skin slid across each other effortlessly. "I'm going to come," Amanda announced, "this feels so good." "I want to come with you. Hold me tight." Amanda wrapped her arms around Hina and held her to her chest. Both girls began gasping and moaning as floods of pleasure washed over their bodies. Hina threw her head back, her mouth gapping at the ceiling. Amanda leaned forward and kissed her neck hard as they both shared the same orgasm. Having exhausted their spasms they lay back on the bed completely spent. Amanda broke the long silence. "That was the most wonderful experience of my life," she said. She pulled the blanket up over herself and her lover and they both fell asleep exchanging kisses just before the late spring sky began to turn light. End of Part 1

Many regular posters on Literotica's Bulletin Board know a lot about me, probably more than they should, seeing as 99.9% of the folks there I've never met and they say telling too much online is unsafe and that is probably true. One day it will most likely come back and bite me in the ass, but I'll cross that bridge when it is finished being built. This essay is about me. I know some of you are sighing and rolling your eyes; you're probably thinking -- oh please Red, just shut up and get over yourself. Others perhaps are settling in, thinking that I'm about to reveal some deep- dark-dirty secrets and you've got your lube ready. Others though, the folks that I interact with online via the boards as well as through emails will know that isn't the case. I'm writing this essay simply because I want to share with folks my life and how it has been changed by "growing up Lit". If you don't want to read about me, then kindly click the back button and peruse something else. I came to Lit. several years ago, around April 2005. Like many, I read a story and then another, quickly deciding that I could do this and I could do it well. One story was submitted, followed by another and as of this morning, as I type this, I have 222 stories and 141 poems - under the name "RedHairedandFriendly". I do have other submissions here on Lit., many authors do. Eight submissions co-written with The_ Darkness, under the name Dark_and_Red, a couple (I think) under the name RedHeadandFriendly, and a few (maybe 3) under the name Babette_____. Why all the pen names? One was a collaboration with an author, one was just to be different with my name, another was because I had "connected" with a writer and wanted them to be "his". Looking back I wish I could gather those stories (except the ones by The_Darkness and myself -- I don't mind sharing those) and place them under my original pen name. They are a part of me, but I won't. I submitted them the way I did for a reason and why look back and change something so miniscule? So they'll sit where they are, most likely gathering dust. Enough about writing though, this really is supposed to be an essay about me speaking candidly about my maturing at such a late age. I grew up a farmer's daughter -- a dairy farmer's daughter to be exact. My dad inherited half of his parents' farm after the deaths of my grandparents; the other half was my aunt's inheritance. At the age of eight dad sold his half to his sister and he and my mother moved us down south where he purchased another farm. Unfortunately a year or so later, finances forced him to sell the farm and he began a journey of working for other dairies that would take his family -- consisting of my mom, my three sisters, and myself -- on a path that covered a total of 8 years, 6 schools (for me), and 9 different homes. The final move was back to the north where I would eventually graduate high school. My mom and dad have been married for over 40 years. I have two older sisters, one younger. The two eldest have lived lives that I would not wish on my worst enemy -- if I had one. Each one struggled with alcoholism, drug abuse, emotional and physical abuse from their boyfriends/spouses. My youngest sister struggled with alcoholism, drug abuse and self-mutilation. Me -- I don't know why my path seems so much easier than theirs. I was raised by the same parents, disciplined the same way, left alone as much as they were, yet I chose a different path. I know I chose the road I did, not for me, but for my mom and dad. I saw the pain my older sisters were causing my parents and I didn't want to hurt them. I didn't want them to worry over me, or to get so angry they were crying and yelling at me to change. The life I led up until my introduction to Literotica was for my parents, not for me. As a teen I saw a lot that I didn't want to experience. I made the decision to wait to have sex until I was married -- it almost worked. I was three months pregnant when I married my spouse, the first man I had ever had sex with. I determined who my spouse would one day be by making a list of what a man had to have before I would even consider dating him. I wasn't looking for a boyfriend, I was looking for a husband. My list sounds easy: 1. He had to have a high school diploma or college degree. 2. He had to have a job. 3. He had to have a car. 4. He had to have his own apartment or if he lived with his parents he had to have a "plan" on when he was leaving. All four of those things on my list sound simple enough and all had their reasons for being there. My two sisters' worst relationships were with men who quit school either at the elementary level or the high school level. Neither of the men they were involved with (when I made my list) had jobs and my sisters were paying for everything. Both of their boyfriends didn't own cars either -- though one guy was creative enough to solve that problem by stealing one -- (he was caught). Lastly the men lived with their parents but then quickly moved in with my family instead of getting jobs and finding a place to live on their own with their wives -- my sisters. As a teen that is what I had as an example of what not to marry. My list was very important to me. I married the first man who fit my list. He had a job, two cars, a college degree, and in the process of moving out of his parents' home. He was 22 -- I was nineteen. We were friends for 7 months, dated as a couple one month, engaged for a month before we had sex. Eleven months after meeting him - as a friend -- we were married, my eldest daughter snuggled safely in my womb. I'm pretty sure that's the right time line. My second daughter was conceived three weeks after the first was born, and she was delivered three months premature, making them extremely close together in age. Five years later my son, and last child arrived. The first eleven years of my marriage was pretty routine. I took on the roll of housewife. I only worked a few months outside the home. He enjoyed having me at home and in the beginning I did too. It was nice to be there for my kids; there were no babysitters to worry about, no need to rearrange my life if I needed to take them to the doctor. If I wanted to gather the babies up and visit my mother I could do so. I absorbed the roll of mom and wife like a sponge. As time passed, I realized that I was lonely. I had my spouse, but no one else. My sisters and I are not close, never have been. Two of them were very abusive to me, and the other was never around much for me to grow close to. The friends I had made when I worked for a local retailer -- before my marriage -- were gone. When my wedding was over, it was like my friends disappeared. My soul communication revolved around the man I married. I had no girl-friends. I knew that to make friends I had to find a way to interact with others. My first thought was returning to the work force. The subject was brought up and very quickly my spouse listed the reasons as to why I shouldn't go back to work. I didn't realize that this would be the start of my spiraling staircase of emotions. He had good points, at least they seemed good. I would have to pay a sitter. The gas it took to get to work and back would suck most of my paycheck up as would the sitter's fee. Also, what if a kid needed to see the doctor, or there was an emergency at the school? School programs -- who would be there for the kids? Who would pick them up? Get them to school? Who would be home to cook supper? He was working a solid paying job. He was out the door by six in the morning, home around six in the evening. It made sense for me to stay home. Didn't it? So I stayed. He came home from work, shared with me his day and on the weekends he would go over to his friend's house. They would work on little projects in his friend's garage. I would sometimes go with them, and sit in the house watching TV or cleaning his friend's house (his friend was and still is a bachelor). The subject of me going back to work was approached off and on for years. In time I stopped asking, because his jaw would tighten and I knew the reasons he gave would be the same as before and to me they were still good reasons. He had his friends and his co-workers; he still shared with me his day and when he came home and asked me about mine -- the answer was still the same. I really didn't know how lonely my life was. Then the internet appeared and the world of chat rooms seemed to slide into my life without me knowing it. I discovered there are people that I could talk to without leaving my children alone. I could chat with men and women about my life and my marriage without missing doctor appointments, or neglecting my spouse. It was amazing. I shared my frustrations with faceless folks and silly screen names. I made friends, even if they were on the other side of the world. It didn't matter. There were men and women that "heard" me when he had stopped listening and I had stopped talking. Eventually these chats turned to more intimate talks and the link to Literotica was given; I started writing and a month later visited the bulletin board and posted. Like many I started in the game threads. I flirted and chatted, but soon my need to be heard took over. I shared how sex for me was routine and I admitted that I really didn't know a lot about it. I knew how it all worked and came together. After all I had given birth to three kids, but I didn't know about orgasms, g-spots and believe it or not -- masturbation. It was a "no-no". I had been "caught" by my mother once and told -- that is not done - and so it wouldn't be until I was thirty-one that I ever did it again. You can choose to believe that or not, but it is the truth. It's sad to think that there are boys and girls growing up with that ingrained into them. I am glad I discovered it was "okay" before my own children became old enough to wonder. They all know that it is normal and they are not "bad" because they choose to self pleasure. I asked my spouse about masturbation after I had discovered the pleasure it brought. He looked at me as if I had said a vulgar word. The memory I have is still strong as he proceeded to make me feel dirty for even suggesting such a thing. It was immoral and disgusting and I was wrong for even talking to him about it. Wow -- did I feel ashamed. I went back to the internet and shared his thoughts and I'm sure many of you know that there were people that supported me, that listened and shared their views and opinions. Sexually I was finding things online that aroused me. I was finding people that aroused me. I discovered that mysterious "g-spot". With this discovery came guilt. I felt bad that I was learning so much and my spouse wasn't a part of it. People encouraged me to talk to him, so one night I did. Approaching him about sexual topics was not easy. I was so scared and nervous, fearful of his reaction. He wasn't nor is he physically abusive; he wasn't going to hit me or call me filthy names, but his look -- the disgust in his eyes -- the tensing of his jaw -- all of these things I knew were signs he wasn't pleased. If he wasn't pleased I dealt instead with his pouting and crypt answers. I felt guilty and so I worked hard not to ever bring up intense subjects. With sex though, I really thought that something new would be fun and exciting for us both. I asked him first his opinion on toys. He said they were pointless, because he had everything I needed. (You guys and gals -- I'll wait while you catch your breath). Yeah, he had everything I needed, that's what he said. How does one answer back to that? How do you tell your spouse -- you need more without hurting his feelings. I was stunned. I wasn't expecting that. Honestly I was expecting him to be intrigued, curious and perhaps ask me why the sudden interest. He knew I wrote erotica. He knew I posted and chatted with folks. He bought me my first laptop so I could write. Before you ask, I did ask him to read my work; he read one story and told me "erotica isn't my thing, but I wrote well." He's never read anything else of mine, including poetry which he "doesn't get" again his words. Later I would learn he thought I was going through a "phase". Back to the toy discussion. I told him that I was thinking maybe we could try something different. He said we were fine. We didn't need anything different. It wasn't until July of 2006 that I was able to buy my first toy -- and that happened only after I "caught" him masturbating. Remember, he had told me how wrong it was and how he didn't do it. I had opened our bedroom door one afternoon, to put some clothes in the basket, when his hands shot out from under the blanket. I knew immediately what he'd been doing. I closed the door and walked away -- angry and hurt. How dare he make me feel so small and filthy. I was shaking with anger, but decided I would say nothing. He knew I knew and he could broach the subject with me, or he could continue to live with whatever thoughts he had. That night he admitted to me what I already knew and he apologized for making me feel wrong. Shortly after that, he gave me $150.00 to spend on whatever I wanted as far as sexual toys went. Guilt for what he'd done? Perhaps so -- I really didn't care. I'd been researching sex toys for months and I knew exactly what I wanted. Soon after, a very expensive rabbit vibrator and a bullet vibe arrived at my door. I wrote stories about my experiences with them: _Red's First Foray With a Toy, Getting What You Pay For,_ and _When It's Hot -- STOP_ (if you choose to read those, I encourage you to do so in order of submission dates). The toys were purchased and we played together with them; more toys were bought, but after a while the "newness" wore off for him and he admitted he didn't like my responses to the pleasure I received. They also did nothing for him, though we had bought toys for men. The toys soon became a nuisance for our sex life. I used them alone and eventually had to use them in secret. He would come home and see that I had pulled them out from their box and he would get angry. Later, he confessed he almost threw them away. Looking back now, I accepted so much just to keep the peace. It isn't all his fault. I am equally to blame. I stopped trying to communicate. I wrote and wrote and wrote. I posted on the boards of Lit. I made friends. I shared some of the conversations with him, learning through these conversations about his distaste over certain fetishes, ideas, fantasies. Many things I had become curious about were often the same things he found immoral, unnecessary or even pointless. Our relationship was dying. I had found people online that understood me; some were sincere, others I knew were just "playing me". Over time I told my spouse that I was going to meet some of my new friends. He could come with me, if he wanted. The events were on the weekends and he didn't have to work. Secretly I didn't want him to go, because I knew his reactions to what could be seen would make him uncomfortable and others would most likely see his unease. I told him I would be with him the whole time and that if things occurred that he was uncomfortable with, we could leave together. I waited for him to make the decision. He let me go alone. The events were planned by members of the site, not at all by the site itself or its administrators -- and before I get a ton of emails about them, NO -- I do not know of any more and I will NOT share details. I believe in the Las Vegas Policy -- what happens there, stays there. These events showed me the value of companionship, whether it was a sexual nature or not. I saw and felt that I needed one-on-one human interaction. A year after my first meeting of Litsters I told my spouse that I wasn't sure I was in love with him anymore. I had done all I could for him and my kids for fourteen years and I was ready to do something for myself. He finally admitted that he knew there was a problem, but he was hoping I was just going through depression and I would get over it. Eventually through talking and crying -- both of us shed many tears -- he recognized that my home was my prison (his words -- though he was right). He conceded that he was partially to blame. There was no doubt, he said, that he liked keeping me at home and knowing I was always there to take care of the kids, and the house. The first step in trying to repair our marriage was for me to get out of the house. I took a job as a sales clerk, catering to the Plus Size female. It was like I became a new person. Even I admit that I blossomed by just talking face to face with people again. When I came home from work I was excited about my day and the antics of the young girls I worked with, or the drama of the married couples, and my single boss. I had a life and I loved being able to actually contribute to the days events beyond the typical day's conversation: "I washed the dishes, folded the laundry, rearranged the house...". Now I had stories to tell! I wish I could say that fixed all our problems. It didn't. We still struggled sexually. I remember telling him that I felt I had done everything up to that point, asking to try different things, being told no. Trying to express my concerns, wants, desires, curiosities and always being told I was over- reacting, that nothing was wrong, that he was enough for me. It was agreed that he would seek out a counselor for us. In the end though I did all of that too, calling his insurance, finding providers in our area, narrowing the search to three. All he had to do was pick one and make an appointment. He never did and I won't. I really feel he needs to take more steps in showing me that he understands we have problems. Until then, I continue with my life and my marriage. Lit. has taken me down a path full of self-discovery. Some paths were easy to trod, some were difficult, and some were heart-wrenching. However all of them have led me to accept that in order to change my life, and my outlook on it, I cannot continue to always put the needs of everyone in front of my own. Sometimes I have to be taken care of first. I have to be the woman I am and not the woman I thought I should be in order to keep the ripples in the water from spreading too far. I'm more confident now than before. Sex between my husband and myself is now on my terms. I no longer allow him to guilt me into it or to make me feel bad if I touch myself, or I don't climax. He still pouts, but I don't let it get to me. Will we be forever trapped in a marriage that makes me go "ho-hum" as he looks through his rose-colored glasses? Perhaps, but maybe not. I guess that is why they say the future is unknown. If we knew the path we were to trod, than most likely we would pick that path that was safe and easy; we'd lack growth and growing is what defines us - it's just taken me thirty-eight years to learn that. Until next time... ~ Red. Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content. ***** My marriage was annulled after 5 short months. Mom told me this would happen, but I didn't listen. She knew the girl I chose to marry would eventually grow tired of me. And that is exactly what she did. She flat-out told me that I was unable to satisfy her sexually, emotionally or romantically. She told me she had been screwing her boyfriend the entire time we'd been married. She told me we were getting an annulment. And during that same conversation, she told me he was moving in that afternoon and she wanted me out before he got there. As soon as I stepped into my childhood home, my mother began the "I told you so" lecture. She informed me that things would be different this time. She wasn't going to let me choose my next girlfriend, obviously, I wasn't capable of making good choices. And to ensure I didn't disobey her, she planned to keep me in a chastity belt until the day of my next marriage. She didn't want me spending time with another slut like my future ex-wife. With that said, she pulled a small box from out of the coffee table drawer and set it on the table. The box was black with no writing on it at all. Staring at that black box, I remembered reading about chastity devices in a history class I'd once taken. The entire class thought it was crazy that people were once forced to wear things like that. I for one thought it was a cruel way to keep anyone from having sex, but deep down I also found it intriguing and thought about it often while alone at night in my bed. But I'd never expected anyone to really keep me in one! I didn't know what to do. I had nowhere else to go. I shivered a little and felt my emotions coming to the surface. My marriage had fallen apart, I had to return home and live with my mother and she insisted I begin wearing a chastity belt! It was the worst day of my young life. When the first tear formed in my eye, my mother wrapped her arms around me and held me against her chest as I sobbed. She whispered in my ear how much she loved me. She told me everything would be okay. She would take care of everything now that I was back home with her. Eventually, my crying stopped and I went to the bathroom to wash my face. When I returned to the living room, I found my mother still sitting on the couch with her perfect posture, looking as radiant as ever. In her hand, she held a clear plastic 'thing'. It looked abnormal, almost like the plastic shouldn't be able to hold that form. As I moved closer to her, she took the device by a small golden lock that I hadn't noticed before and raised up to her eye level. "Sweetheart, do you know how this chastity belt will attach to your penis?" she asked in that motherly tone that seemed so out of place considering what she had said. I shook my head and told her I had no idea. I'd never seen one before. But I had the general idea of what it was for. I tried to tell her I didn't need this, I didn't deserve this. But she would have none of it. She had her mind set and there was nothing I could say or do to change it. "Well, this might be a little embarrassing for you, but I need you to lower your pants and underwear. Because if you are unsure how to put this on properly, I want to show you how to do it. And, you should be aware, that I'll have to check it once or twice a week to be sure you aren't trying to take it off without my permission. And I'll also have to figure out a way to clean it. But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now, I need you to show me your penis." My mouth fell open and I was at a complete loss for words. I stood before her sitting there on the couch with that little cage resting on her open palm. I felt shivers run all over my body and I began to perspire. "Um, mom, seriously? I mean, it's not right. Are you sure about this? Isn't it against the law or something?" "Stop being such a worry wart. Just drop your pants before I get upset." Images of living on the street with nowhere to go flashed through my mind. I was stuck. I didn't have another choice. With trembling fingers, I slowly undid my pants, hooked my thumbs under my pants and underpants and slowly lowered them to mid-thigh. My semi-hard penis caught my mother's attention and she smirked. While gazing at my thin modestly sized penis she began, "Sweetie, didn't anyone ever let you know you should trim your pubic hair? The hair looks longer than your penis. Not to worry, I will make an appointment with someone I know who can address that situation." While looking into my eyes, she held the chastity device in her hand and pointed to different parts of it as she explained how it would'mount' on me. After she had pretty much told me how it would go on, she warned me, "I'm going to touch you now." Her hand reached up with its long perfectly polished fingernails, two of her fingers moved my penis in roughly the same position the cage would keep it in. She held the cage up beside my still semi-hard penis, "Well, I might have overestimated your penis size. But for now, this should work until I can get a size smaller." Thankfully she ignored how it grew rock hard. How could it not? I could feel her warm breath on it, the touch of her fingers, there was no way I could not get hard! She pulled her hand away from my penis with a quick smile and then went to work. She removed the lock and then slid this hinged ring off. The ring had three, white plastic pins sticking out of it. What was left in her hand was a plastic tube with small slots for ventilation. The tube was formed in a sharp radius with a slightly larger place for the head of a penis at the end of it. On the other end, there was a flange with holes for the rings' plastic pins to slide through. Honestly, the sight of it scared me. With a sparkle in her eyes, she looked from the cage to my erect penis and then into my eyes. She smirked before suggesting I excuse myself to the bathroom so I could masturbate. I needed to me flaccid in order to put the cage on. She told me to use a tissue to catch my mess. And she went on to tell me to clean myself really well before coming back out to see her. I'd never been so embarrassed. My own mother was telling me to masturbate! She had always spoken freely about sex. We had dozens of sex talks over the years and she routinely made it clear that masturbation was perfectly normal. But she had never told me to go masturbate! She often told me she masturbated regularly. And I'd once snooped through her dresser and found a very long, fat vibrator hidden in the bottom drawer. The image of my buxom, full-figured mother, with her exaggerated hourglass figure, masturbating with that vibrator had plagued my fantasies for years. Even while with my wife, the idea of my mother with that vibrator invaded my mind while we made love. While still an emotional mess from my wife throwing me out, tears welled up in my eyes while I turned to do as I'd been told. But my penis remained rock hard and bobbed from side to side as I waddled to the bathroom, holding my pants at mid thigh. I closed and locked the bathroom door behind me. Looking in the large mirror, I saw a completely broken man. Tears were streaking my cheeks. My shoulders were slumped and my breaths were coming in gasps. Reaching down, I wrapped my finger and thumb around my stiff penis and began to slide them up and down. I stood there watching myself masturbate. I looked so pathetic. My penis began to soften under my fingers and I began to consider walking back out to my mother without cumming first. But I nearly jumped out of my skin with I heard a soft knock on the door. My mother's soft voice asked, "How are you doing Sweetheart? Are you almost done?" I hadn't heard her walking on the hardwood floors at all. I whimpered softly as my cock became rock hard once again. Hearing my mother's voice ask those questions through the door was enough to not only get me fully erect but drive me to the brink of orgasm. I began masturbating quickly, my finger and thumb flying up and down along the length of my penis. Staring at myself in the mirror, I tried to accept that this is where I belonged. I was destined to remain living under my mother's control for the time being. She had always known what was best for me. She even predicted how my marriage would end. If she wanted to keep me in a chastity belt until she found an appropriate person to become my bride, then I would accept that. The idea of my mother touching my penis helped me to accept my fate. And knowing she would hold the only key to the cage my penis was kept in was tremendously arousing. I let go of my pants and let them fall around my ankles. My skinny legs and narrow waist were covered with a thin layer of light blonde hair matching the color of my pubic hair. And if mother followed through with what she'd said, my pubic hair would soon be gone. A chill shot up my spine at the thought of that. Another soft knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. In a soft, raspy voice, mother said, "I can hear you breathing heavily Sweetheart. Don't forget to catch your mess in toilet tissue." I reached down and paused when I saw the neat triangle the last sheet was folded into. Mother had always folded the last square of tissue into a triangle. And while living with her, I was expected to follow suit. It became a habit after doing it for so long. Even now, I couldn't stop myself from folding the last square of tissue into a triangle. It didn't matter where I was. I did it at home, at work and even in public restrooms. While still stroking my penis, I pulled off several sheets from the roll and held them in front of my drooling penis. A wet, sloppy sound echoed in the room while I stroked myself. Knowing my mother was just outside the door and could definitely hear that sound, only spurred on my arousal. I fell back against the wall while still staring at myself in the mirror when my orgasm began. I heard myself moan when the first glob erupted from my penis. It was quickly followed by a second and then a third. While still in the throes of bliss, I heard my mother's voice. "That's my good boy. It feels good, doesn't it? Enjoy it, Sweetheart. It's going to be a while before I schedule your next one." She paused but I could hear her breathing through the door. The idea of my mother scheduling my orgasms was surprisingly exciting. The more I thought about my mother keeping me chaste, the more I accepted that it was what I deserved. It began to make sense in my mind. Being kept with minimal orgasms would make me appreciate them all the more. When mother found a proper wife for me, it would be almost like I was losing my virginity all over again. I was afraid and excited at the same time. As I squeezed out the last little bit of mess into the tissue, mother spoke once again, "I'll be waiting in the living room. Remember to clean yourself really well before you come out to see me." I listened to her heels click down the hall toward the living room. I whimpered softly when I dropped the tissue into the toilet and watch it get flushed away. That very well may be the last orgasm I have for a good long time. I reached down and folded the last square of tissue on the roll into a neat triangle. The act of doing that made me smile. It was what my mother wanted. And I knew I wanted the same things she wanted. She loved me, I was her only son and she wanted the very best for me. When I began to think about how to clean myself, I considered trying to do it with a washcloth over the sink. But I gave up on that and decided I'd take a quick shower instead. I stripped quickly, opened the frilly shower curtain cover and adjusted the water temperature. When it was all set, I stepped into the tub and closed the curtain. The scent of flowers and perfume from the same feminine bath products I'd used while growing up made me feel safe and loved. After washing myself from head to toe, paying special attention to my shriveled up penis, I almost picked up the pink razor and tried to shave off my pubic hair myself. But I decided not to, knowing mother had a plan for it. After drying myself off, I tidied up the bathroom before putting my clothes back on. I left my shoes and socks off, setting them neatly in the hall outside of the bathroom. I stood there just outside of the bathroom trying to muster my courage. I knew I'd have to walk out there eventually. But I was struggling to take that first step. The ideas and fantasies that had helped me to orgasm just moments before had faded. Now the fact that my mother was going to lock my penis in a chastity belt became very real. I knew I should stand up from myself. I should tell her there was no way she would ever lock my penis up. But she had raised me to follow orders and do as I'd been told. That was another problem my wife had with me. She knew I could never make a decision for myself or stand up for what I thought was right. I always did what I was told to do and relied on her to make the decisions. Early on in our relationship, she enjoyed making all of the decisions. But she eventually decided that she wanted a'real man' to take care of her. Swallowing hard, I looked down at my feet and stepped into the living room. Glancing up, I saw my mother sitting on the couch with her back perfectly straight. She had a grin on her face and commended my decision to shower before coming to see her. When I stood right in front of her, she reached up and while undoing the button on my pants, she said: "Let's get this over with." Her long fingernails raked the skin on my hips when she pulled my pants and underwear to my knees. I felt tears welling up in my eyes again but said nothing. She picked up the plastic ring from the coffee table and quickly looped it behind my scrotum. It hugged my penis and scrotum snugly. She then used a feathery touch to guide my penis into the curved cage. The hole for the lock lined up at the same time the ring and cage set together. Mother picked up the lock, slipped it through the hole and clicked it shut. I stood there with my penis trapped beneath a clear plastic cage. I whimpered softly. Mother continued to hold my caged penis in her hand. She looked up into my eyes and spoke in a tone which let me know she was being very serious. She told me that I was a clever boy and could probably figure out a way to get out of the cage. But if I did, she would get a metal cage to put me in. And if I found a way out of that one, she'd find a more creative way of keeping me chaste. She told me she was doing this for my own good. She couldn't stand the thought of me winding up with someone who didn't appreceiate me for who I was. She only wanted the very best for me and that was the reason she was doing this. Still holding my caged penis in her hand, she went on to explain that over the next few days she would take me to have my pubic hair removed. She would also schedule my orgasms on a calendar which she would hang in my childhood bedroom. Mother gently squeezed my cage and balls when she told me that she'd be checking my cage for damage to be sure I wasn't being naughty. These checks would not be scheduled and could happen at any time. That's when my knees buckled and my pants and underwear fell around my ankles. Mother smiled while her eyes wandered up and down my naked lower half. She lifted her other hand and laid it on my naked hip. She bit her lip seductively before saying in a soft voice, "I think I'll have you strip during the inspections of your cage. I wouldn't want you to hide anything from me. And if I do find that you've been tampering with this cage, it'll be that much easier to punish you. I'm sure your cute little butt remembers my leather belt." With a grin, she squeezed my caged penis again. She went on to say, "Oh yes Sweetheart. You're living under my roof again and you'll need to follow my rules. And if I see so much as a scratch on this cage or lock, I'll beat your little ass so thoroughly you won't be able to sit down for days. Do you understand me, young man?" I nodded my head and whispered that I understood. Mother lowered her hands to her lap and after looking me up and down once more, told me to go get myself unpacked in my old room. As I pulled up my pants, she told me she was really going to enjoy having me live at home with her again.

Astrid looked down and saw herself dressed in a long dark red dress. It was quite low cut revealing her luscious cleavage. Her dark brown hair was hanging loose with bouncy curls. Her big brown eyes widened as she saw all these beautiful people going into an elegant looking nightclub. She slowly walked in the building feeling her legs shaking and her stomach in knots. The big thick black shoes she wore made it hard for her to walk. She wasn't used to dressing this way. Usually she would wear her blue jeans and t-shirt and her hair in a ponytail. But tonight it was different. She felt different. It was as if she was in some sort of dream but yet she felt more alive than ever. As she entered the nightclub, she saw the most handsome men she'd ever seen in her entire life sipping on wine and dressed in suits and ties. The room was filled with loud dance type music. She wondered why she never went out much. After college, her life was nothing but work and she'd become so antisocial. She continued to walk down the room covered with dark red carpet matching her dress. All the gentlemen looked at her with lustful eyes. Two particular gentlemen caught her eye. Both men were tall, at least over 6'0" and seemed to be quite muscular. One of the gentlemen had a gray suit with a black tie and dark black hair slicked back. The other gentleman wore a black and white suit and had short blonde spiky hair. They both smiled at her. She could tell they both had deep dark blue eyes. She wondered if they were brothers or cousins. She felt shy like she always did but still managed to make herself walk up to the two men. The music playing was now fading as she approached the men. She smiled at them weakly and immediately the gentleman in the black and white suit offered her a glass of red wine. "Here you go ma'am," he said in a soft voice. She blushed. "Thank you." The gentleman in the gray suit offered her a seat in between them both. He patted the red leather stool. "Have a seat here ma'am." She made herself comfortable and crossed her legs letting her skin show. She sipped the most delicious red wine she'd ever drank. The temperature in the room was pleasant the two gorgeous gentlemen were sitting very close to her making her feel so wanted. "So what brings you here tonight?" The man in the black and white suit asked never taking his blue eyes off her. She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess you could say I was just lured here for some stranger reason." The man in the gray looked at the other man. "Is that so? Well I think tonight will be the night you will never forget." She took one more sip of red wine and blinked her eyes. Suddenly she was no longer at the nightclub. She was in a quiet dim lit room with black curtains and gray walls. She was lying on a huge soft antique bed. She was still fully clothed except for her shoes and clueless of where she was; yet she didn't feel fear. She raised herself up and looked around. The room seemed to be empty and lighted with candles smelling of vanilla. Suddenly she heard a soft sound as the door opened. It was the same two gentlemen but this time they were completely nude. Her jaw dropped once she took a look at their huge cocks. They had to be at least 10 inches long and very thick. Both had throbbing mushroom heads covered by gooey precum. She couldn't speak for a moment. She just glared at the two men as they approached her on the bed. The blonde started stroking her face softy and the brunette began pulling the straps of her dress down her shoulders as he kissed her neck. She wanted to stop them immediately but she had no strength. It's like they had put something in her drink to make her feel so controlled. The blonde leaned down to kiss her. She'd never experienced such a hot and delicious kiss in he entire life. His mouth felt so hot and his tongue felt as if it was burning hers but yet she still wanted more of his kiss. Her dress fell off her shoulders and quickly exposed her big breasts. Her dark pink nipples were erect as the dark haired gentleman began to rub them with his fingers. "Mmmm oooh yes!" Astrid exclaimed in between kisses. She felt the brunette pull her long hair gently making her tilt her head back. He leaned closer to her and planted his lips on hers. His kiss was just as incredible as the blondes but more soft and slow. His tongue played with hers so erotically. "She kisses very well. I wonder what else she can do," The brunette said in a husky tone. He leaned his head down as Astrid continued to kiss the dark haired man. The blonde wrapped his lips around one of Astrid's hard nipples and sucked on it like a child sucking his mother's milk. Astrid felt her toes curl up. She could actually hear the blonde sucking on her nipple and feel him pinching her other nipple. "Mgmghghhhh!" Her moans were muffled by the brunettes kiss. She felt the brunette pull away from her and just look at her closely. He stood up in front of her and put his cock right in front of her face. She looked at the monster cock closely and voluntarily opened her mouth to welcome it. The brunette stuck his cock in slowly feeling the warmth of her mouth wrap around it. She looked so pretty with his dick in her mouth. He put his hands on her head gripping her soft silky hair. "Oh yes! Suck it good. Milk my cock," he said softly his eyes never leaving hers. The blonde now taking turns sucking on each nipple and lowering her dress and kissing her down to her flat tummy. She felt so soft and delicate. She was the perfect woman for him. He could control her easily. She was so naive and innocent but she'd done some naughty things in her life as well. Things she probably thought he had no idea of. The brunette was now moving Astrid's head back and forth making her take his cock in and out of her mouth. He knew she was a sweet girl and could do no harm but only pleasure him in the most loving ways a woman could pleasure a man. Astrid was in pure bliss being seduced by these two handsome men. Never in her life did she think she'd be having a threesome with two strange men. Two men that she had no idea what their names were. She didn't care though. At that moment she just wanted to be pampered with naughty kisses and touches. She felt the blonde continue to make his way down her body and lifted her dress up over her waist. She hadn't realized it, but she was wearing no underwear. She felt herself blush but had no intentions of stopping the blonde. The taste of cock cream was lingering in her mouth with each thrust of the brunette's cock. She could feel it down her throat as if it was growing longer and thicker inside of her mouth! "She sure smells good!" The blonde said loudly as he kissed her thighs. She never took her eyes off the brunette. He just smiled and looked at her stroking her face and hair. "I'm sure she does smell good. I'm sure she tastes good too." Astrid felt her face turn red once again. She loved oral sex. All of her life she'd only managed to have an orgasm through oral, never through penetration. She knew as soon as any of these two gentlemen started to eat her pussy, she'd cum immediately. She was still sucking on the brunette's big dick, when suddenly she felt the blonde slap his long thick tongue on her pussy. She shuddered at first and then opened her legs wider. She could feel his tongue stroking her clit long and fast. Her whole body was on fire as she continued to suck the brunette's cock that was oozing more precum. "Ooohhh mmmmm!" Astrid muttered feeling the strong sensation of the blonde's tongue teasing her clit. She felt his lips wrap around her clit now sucking on it making her want to cum right then and there. But for some reason, even though this was the best oral sex she'd ever had, she couldn't cum. Something was stopping her. She felt the brunette's cock twitch in her mouth and was expecting his cum to run down her throat but instead of cumming, he pulled his cock out and touched her face again. "So beautiful. You sucked me really good," he said giving her a bewitching smile. She looked down and her eyes widened as she saw the incredibly long tongue the blonde had. He slithered it on her clit like a snake and his eyes met hers. She felt almost numb for a minute but then was distracted by the brunette moving down between her legs too. He nudged the blonde to move aside and then he started to lick her and suck her just like the blonde had done. His tongue felt different though. It felt so smooth and wet making her legs shake with pleasure. "Ahhhhoooohhhmmmmm!" Astrid blurted out falling back on the bed and shutting her eyes tightly. The brunette continued to lick her and slowly slid his tongue inside of her opening. She gasped at first feeling the monstrous tongue invading her pussy. Her hands gripped the white silky sheets tightly as she had never experienced such hot pleasure before. She opened her eyes for a minute and saw the blonde stroking his long hard cock in front of her face. She wondered if he'd cum and splatter her face with his hot load, or at least she hoped he would. She felt so close to cumming but then again the action stopped. She looked at the two men as they whispered something into each other's ears. She wondered what they were saying. The brunette moved away and let the blonde kneel between her legs. He had his cock in his hands and she felt him stab her pussy with it making her shrill with pain. "Owwww! Oooh god!" She screamed. He only laughed wickedly and continued to poke her, slowly tearing her pussy open with his incredible cock. The brunette just watched curiously and held on to her hand. "Just take his cock. I want to see what is going to happen. This will decide your destiny." He said quietly. Astrid was so confused. Why was she even here? Who were these two men? Finally she felt the blonde slide his cock in slowly and felt her juices drip out wetting the bed. He started to feel so damn good once he began to thrust himself inside of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist pushing him more inside of her. She never thought she'd want a cock so bad as much as she wanted the blondes. "Yes! Oooh fuck yes! Oh fuck me harder!" She moaned as the blonde pumped her pussy fast and hard. "Ahhhh you like my cock bitch? You like it don't you! You're going to be mine aren't you?" The blonde asked with fury in his blue eyes. Astrid looked puzzled but could only agree. His cock was fucking her so good she didn't want this wonderful fuck to end! She nodded and licked her lips. "Yes! I'm yours! I'm all yours!" The blonde looked at the brunette and smiled wickedly. Astrid was getting used to the erotic fuck until she felt the blonde's cock slide out of her quickly. She gasped and didn't want to let her legs unwrap from his body. The brunette just pushed the blonde away and now started to slide his cock inside of her. Astrid was panting now and moaned loudly feeling yet another monterous cock entering her. Her eyes closed for a minute fluttering with excitement. She heard the brunette's grunts as he pumped his cock in and out of her. "Ooh you feel so good! Oh my you feel so good!" His hand stroked her face. She opened her eyes and somehow felt such a strong attraction towards the brunette, more than she had with the blonde. Suddenly she started to see strange visions. She was getting fucked so good and the pleasure was still lingering but she could see things. She saw small glimpses of things she'd done. She saw herself with her family having Sunday breakfast after church, smelling the eggs and bacon her mother cooked. More visions were appearing fast like flashes in her eyes. She saw herself helping her brother out with his swimming, the time she got married, making love to her husband, crying over her divorce. All these visions appeared so fast she could barely grip them. She found herself gasping again for air once the brunette had exited her pussy. The blonde was ready to enter his cock once again. "Oooh mmmmm!" Astrid moaned loving the feel of their cocks. She was starting to get into it with the blonde and more visions came to her. These visions were not so pleasant. She saw the time she cheated on her husband, the time she'd stole money from work, how she'd lied to her friends, worst of all she saw the time she'd almost committed suicide. She felt tears come out of her eyes but her moans would not stop. This unbelievable pleasure was so wonderful. She knew she was crying, but yet she didn't want the blonde to stop fucking her. The brunette looked at her with sad eyes. He took a deep breath before pushing the blonde out of the way once again. He jammed his cock inside of Astrid making her scream with pain and pleasure mixed. "Ahhhhhhh oh fuck! Oooh fuck!" She kept screaming. He was fucking her so fast and hard. It was almost ungodly how he was fucking her. He looked at her as if he was hypnotizing her. The visions. The damn visions again. She could see more things now. Her first communion, the time she'd donated her expensive clothes to charity, her time helping her friends study, all these sweet memories were flashing before her eyes. She smiled and laughed softly as the brunette kept pumping her pussy. "Do you think you're going to cum?" He asked her quietly. "Uh huh. Oh yess!" She wailed. She saw him disappear once again and the blonde was entering her now. How long was this going to go on? She needed to cum and every time she was going to it seemed that the guys would trade places as if it was some sort of battle. He shoved his dick inside of her so deep and harsh. She moaned loving the stabbing of his cock. "Hmmmmggghhh! Oooh fuck me good. I wanna cum please!" She yelled out. He laughed so wickedly. "Did you hear that? She wants to cum already," he said to the brunette. "Well she'll know when to cum. She'll know. She'll choose her own destiny," the brunette responded. The blonde was groaning loud, wicked moans. His eyes looked so full of fury and rage. She saw the visions again. The evil visions. Things she did not want to see. Flashes of when she'd lied to her children about the divorce, her greediness with money, and the time she'd missed her mother's funeral because of work, how much she'd hurt her husband when he discovered her infidelity. "No stop! Stop! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do it! I didn't! Oh God I'm so sorry!" She cried loudly. She looked at the brunette for some type of help. He reached to touch her hand and the blonde slowed down. He slipped out of her and was breathing heavily as he looked at her. The brunette nodded and put himself back inside of Astrid. She was sobbing still but she found herself wrapping her legs around him. "I'm so sorry. I swear I never meant to hurt anyone. I'm sorry." She kept going on. The brunette held her hands and his eyes locked on hers. "I know you are. I know we all make mistakes. I think you're ready to cum," He said. At that moment, Astrid swears she felt his cock grow so big inside of her. It felt as if it was busting her pussy open; yet she didn't feel pain, only more pleasure. "Ooh yess! I'm so ready! I'm sooo ready!" She shrilled. Her entire body tightened up and she felt her lower lip quiver. She closed her eyes for a moment and felt a soft breeze in the room. She opened her mouth trying to scream her wonderful orgasm but she couldn't. She felt her body shake and she whimpered very quietly. She opened her eyes and looked around to see the blond guy was gone. It was only her and the brunette. She could see big billowy clouds and beautiful rainbows surrounding them both. They lay in the soft green grass all alone. "I'm ready to finish inside of you. You want to feel it?" He asked smiling at her. She nodded and bit her lower lip. She watched him close his eyes and groan. "Hmmm yesss! Oh my! It's going to be so hard! I hope you can take it all." "I want it all," She responded softly. She waited silently and felt a hot long spurt of cum shoot inside of her. "Oooh yeah! I'm cumming! Can you feel it inside of you? Astrid take it! Let me be part of your life forever," He kept pumping her. She did feel it. She felt his seed filling her up. She felt as if gallons and gallons of cum were inside of her. She looked down for a moment and saw her belly swelling up full of this wonderful stranger's cum. Her eyes widened and after a few more spurts he pulled his cock out and fell by her side. She felt her tummy was till huge filled with cum. After a couple of seconds, she felt the warm cum draining out of her. Slowly, her tummy became flat again and she could see the huge puddle of cum underneath her. She watched it slowly evaporate into thin air. She looked at the brunette and touched his face. It was as if he was unreal. She wanted to speak but she was speechless. "Astrid welcome to your permanent home. You're in heaven, " He said and got up slowly. She felt completely exhausted as she looked up at him. She felt confused but yet she was beginning to understand everything. She remembered going to a nightclub that night only she didn't meet two men. She was depressed about her divorce and her children hating her. She drank heavily and got in her car. She was so drunk her vision blurred and she drove off a cliff and died. _Oh God! She was dead! Was this life after death?_ She wanted the brunette to stay with her but he just started to walk away. She looked at him until his naked body disappeared. Was this really heaven? She then suddenly remembered the blonde. He had to have been Satan. Was the brunette _God_? It must have been. He was so wonderful in every way, and even if it wasn't God it had to be one of his angels. She finally regained her strength and got up. She sighed and looked around at her new beautiful home. The air was so clean and she felt at ease. She suddenly recalled what people say when someone dies and she smiled because she knew for a fact that _she_ was finally in a better place. now look, Captain, I want the walking wounded at their posts, we can't spare a man, if these Huns knew our ranks were thinning they'd eat us alive and rape our women and children and, god help us, our pets too! _Charles Bukowski Stomping at the Savoy_ I once saw an interview with a young Matt Dillon in which he was asked about the first movie he had ever seen in a theater. He answered, "I don't remember; it was something with Charlton Heston." In my case it was indeed a Charlton Heston film, the 1963 release _55 Days at Peking_. I was eight years old and my dad took me to the Park Plaza Theater at University and Tremont Avenues in the West Bronx. He was a movie fan and for many years kept track of everything he saw and recorded it in notebook. I'm sure that few people remember this particular film. Even fewer Americans, if asked in one those person-in-the-street videos by Jay Leno and his many imitators, would know when or where the Boxer Rebellion was or why the United States was involved with it. My dad probably didn't know either but the movie was advertised as a rousing action-adventure flick as well as a historical epic and he wanted to see it. Almost every American movie released then in the waning days of the Production Code would be considered no more than PG-13 now. Thus even though this wasn't a movie "for kids" no one in my family questioned my attendance. I had known television all of my young life but this new experience of going to the movies just impressed the hell out of me. To start with, the ornate designs of the movie palaces of that era (this one opened in 1925), inside and out, were intended to heighten the mystique of viewing films. Nowadays the assumption for most multiplexes seems to be: _the audience is sitting in the dark during the show itself; what do they care about what the building is like as long as they have stadium seating and plenty to nosh on?_ I had seen movies on TV but they were invariably cut up by commercials. We didn't have a color set - those were uncommon then and the picture quality was uneven at best and horrible at worst. That afternoon in the Park Plaza was at an entirely different level of involvement. The size of the screen, the quality of the images presented, the almost subliminal vibrations I was picking up from the other, unseen audience members - all those had an impact on me that day. I think I was convinced right then and there of the unequivocal wonderfulness of motion pictures as an invention - and all his could be had at reasonable price just three blocks from my apartment. I did understand that what I was seeing was a recreation of events that had been staged for my benefit as a member of an audience. I didn't grasp the fame and money that accrued to the people in the industry making these films, including the actors, but if I had known I would have said they deserved everything they got. ******* One can't relive past events but one can rewatch movies seen years or decades earlier. I think I've seen _55 Days at Peking_ only once straight through after the original viewing; that was on cable TV sometime in the early 2000s. Recently I've watched chunks of it yet again by using YouTube. The fallibility and decay of memory means I had forgotten many of the scenes I had seen in 1963. A few others, however, seemed to have remained in my mind almost exactly as I had originally perceived them. As the title implies the film dispenses with much of the twenty-two month history of the war to concentrate on the 1900 siege of the foreign "legations" (communities) in Peking by Chinese rebels called the "Boxers." This "non- state" force, as it would be called now, had some flair for presentation as they actually titled themselves "The Righteous and Harmonious Fists." The foreigners are about a thousand civilians from the United States, Japan and nine European nations protected by military units of their respective countries. They refuse to surrender because a relief force is supposed to reach them in nine days but they have to fight their way through and arrive about forty-six days late. Thus the movie makers had a scenario that allowed them to present large-scale scenes within a tight, comprehensive frame of time and place. Although the movie seems more than a bit dated and ponderous now (the running time is excessive) it still remains entertaining. Like in many other epics, a romantic subplot was added to fill in screen time and presumably add a human interest side to pull in an audience. In this case Charlton Heston plays American Marine Major Matt Lewis and Ava Gardner is Russian countess Natasha Ivanoff; both were about forty at the time. In later decades the leads probably would have been considerably younger (see, e.g., _Titanic_ ). At the age of eight I neither knew nor cared what Heston and Gardner were doing up there. During adult viewings I judged their on-screen chemistry to be credible at best. Possibly they both knew their scenes were a sideshow anyway. I'm not sure which of Heston's contemporaries would have done it any better; in earlier decades Clark Gable could bring wit and charm to such material. Also with a stake in the outcome is the Chinese imperial government; it happens that the action is going on just down the street from the The Forbidden City. Some of the plot revolves whether or not the leaders will throw their support, including deploying the national army, behind the Boxers. (They do, which is historically accurate.) In 1963 I just assumed that the woman playing the Chinese empress had to really be Chinese or at least East Asian. When seeing the movie as an adult I immediately realized, "This lady is as British as afternoon tea." Flora Robson from South Shields, Durham, looks and sounds very English while making various pronouncements from her throne. The whole Chinese imperial court appears distractingly strange when General Jing-Lu (Englishman Leo Genn) and Prince Tuan (Australian Robert Helpmann) are in there to negotiate something. The results on screen look like skirts performed by students at some London acting school. Of course this casting technique was standard procedure for the American and British movie industries well into the 1960s. In the same era one could see, among many other examples, Natalie Wood playing a Puerto Rican girl in New York or Laurence Oliver playing a rebel in 1880s Sudan. Even if I had known about any of his is 1963 I would have considered it a mere quibble. The battle scenes were what the audience came to see and the filmmakers gave them their money's worth. With no CGI available, the sets were full-size recreations of old Peking built in Spain and 6,000 extras were hired to fill them. However credibility got strained more than a few times. "Based on a true story" does not mean "accurately depicts a true story." Major Lewis and his band of American, British, German, French, Italian, Russian and Japanese brothers, although vastly outnumbered and outgunned, do a remarkable job of coordinating what little they have. (The language barriers never seem to be an issue.) The scene where they clear one of the city walls of Boxers (probably influenced by Battle of the Alamo movies) is an apt example. The Boxers are brave and they command the high ground but they're disastrously inept, taking huge numbers of unnecessary casualties while failing to make any adjustments in their tactics. Lewis and his comrades not just brave but clever too; they're just all-around more talented at fighting a battle. I've seen in many movies since then that this trope of the competent heroes versus the flawed bad guys is a very durable filmmaking strategy. It works well in various genres, including historical films where the real story gets modified as needed. American audiences for the many World War II films released in the last seventy-five years might find it something of a let-down to admit, say, that the United States was victorious in the 1940s because of its vastly larger industrial facilities. In addition the Germans had been mauled by the Soviet armies and the Japanese were bogged down in a land war in China. Churchill may have had a point when he said, "The war was won with American money, British courage and Russian blood" but he never had to make a movie about it. Someone with more skin in that game would be screenwriter Claude Estees in _The Day of the Locust_. He dismisses a possible plot point for a script by saying, "It's good, but it won't film. You've got to remember your audience. What about the barber in Peoria? He's been cutting hair all day and he's tired." He wasn't talking about a battle scene but the 1963 filmmakers at Samuel Bronston Productions would have fully agreed. ****** There was one scene that I remembered vividly and I think accurately from my childhood. It was expertly staged and filmed, but the loose ends were obvious on later viewings. Like much else in that film I'm sure it never actually happened, but it sure was fun to watch. Near the end of the siege Major Lewis and his fellows on the wall notice that the Boxers are constructing tracks down a road leading to a city gate. "It can't be for a cannon," one of them says. "They wouldn't need to get this close." It definitely won't be for a streetcar line, but why Lewis and the rest don't simply shoot these guys and be done with it is not explained. Perhaps they're curious about what will happen next. One night they get the answer. A huge siege engine, a multi-story wooden tower, appears out of the darkness and is rolled down the tracks. Lewis still has a chance to shoot the men pulling it from the front but again he doesn't seem to consider it. When it is in range, panels are dropped on the tower and rockets shoot out that threaten to set that part of the city on fire. Lewis looks as concerned as he ever will in this siege but he doesn't panic. He doesn't quite know what to do but a priest, Father de Bearn (Henry Andrews) is up there next to him and he does improvise something. de Bearn has a knack for combat as well as religion. He places an order for a big urn, coal oil, black powder and "all the champagne bottles you can find." Everything is readily available and promptly in his hands. Maybe the cast of _Mythbusters_ should experiment and see if his homemade mortar is even remotely plausible. Perhaps that doesn't matter; Charlton Heston is aiming it so one can be sure of a favorable outcome. He only has to fire two of the Molotov cocktails; the second makes a perfect hit and all the ammunition in the tower immediately blows up. One would think that Lewis and de Bearn would be jubilant about their own amazingly good luck. Instead, they spend a moment expressing pity for all the poor bastards they just killed. Maybe they're thinking, _if these Boxers knew what they were up against, they'd just give up and go home._ ***** If I had the choice, I would have gone to the movies every week. My family couldn't afford that, so I eventually saw nine more movies over the next seven years until I had the means to go on my own. Most them were in Bronx theaters, including several at the Park Plaza again. The theater was closed sometime in the early 1970s and the building was converted to other uses. Out of curiosity I went in there once when there was a supermarket in that space and again when it was a chain drug store. A drop ceiling hid any vestiges of the auditorium. The only thing I recognized was the sloping floor that once led down from the entrance doors to the main lobby. Around 2008 I happened to pass by and the underutilized building was being demolished; a school now stands on the site. Of the 124 theaters that ever existed in the borough only two, multiplexes from the 1960s and the 1980s, still show movies. **** The Empress Cixi appears again in Bernardo Bertolucci's _The Last Emperor_ (1987). This time Lisa Lu, who was born in Beijing as Yen Chun Lu and who emigrated to the United States in the 1950s, got the acting job. So some authenticity prevails in Bertolucci's film for at least that casting decision, although he fudged various other things both large and small. At one point the empress is shown keeping a small pet dog up the sleeve of her gown. Did that actually happen? I wish I knew but I don't. ****** _Cold War politics obvious influenced many parts of the movie, but for the moment that is more than I want to get into._ Lisa Lu is into her nineties but she still has an active career; most recently she appeared in Crazy Rich Asians.

She couldn't believe her good luck. Her first night in a new city, and here she was, holding an invitation to a party so secret that she couldn't even tell anyone about it. The man in front of her smiled and a part of her melted. "You understand that this is a private affair, only for new tenants and those we deem worth our attention. You'll be attending as my-" he hesitated a little- "date. Don't engage in any of those troubling little behaviors, such as bringing along a friend. I am interested in you and you only. Come that way." She caught herself before she giggled. He was so forward- she loved that in a man. (A tiny voice inside her cried out that no, she didn't, she'd been hurt before, why couldn't she say no to him?) "What should I wear?" She meant it as an honest question, but it came as much as saying that nudity was an option. Her voice was betraying her, and something deep inside her screamed that she was betraying herself. His smile broadened and the last of her resistance melted away. He could have her on the sidewalk if he wanted to. "Wear a dress. But no panties, and I'll know if you lie." She grinned and flicked her eyes down, bashful as a teenager. "Of course." He stepped in close- too close. He smelled raggedly of cigarettes and a distant iron tang her mind wouldn't let her recognize- "See you tonight," he whispered, his voice in her ear. He kissed her neck and drew in a deep breath of her fragile girlish scent, and was gone. She collapsed down into her chair. Vancouver really was a fascinating city. That night, she got ready. She'd be foolish not to carry mace, she thought, and condoms, and her knife. She grinned a little at her own impetuousness. Brave little girl in the big city, she thought, and slipped her bra into place. Slipping into her black dress, her hair perfectly formed, red lipstick and dark eyeshadow. She caught her own eye in the mirror and smiled. Well, I'd sure fuck me, she thought to herself. That same little voice tried to tell her to turn back, to not go, to at least put on the sheer black panties she had laid out on the bed. She left without them. The address was in a good part of town, a black-glass highrise that loomed above the street like a smooth dark mountain. When she got to the door, a tall and somehow familiar man blocked her entry. "Excuse me," he said. "Invitation only." Wordless she passed the man the thin paper sheet. He looked closely at it, and then, bizarrely, scanned it with an infrared penlight. A grin broke out on his face. "I see. Congratulations, it's a very big night up there tonight." "What's the special occasion?" He looked at her and his eyes sparked against hers like flint and steel. She wondered who was which. "No special occasion. Let's just say they'll be happy to see you. Go on up." Inside the lobby was empty. The walls were dark wood, the floor deep red carpeting with a black marble path leading straight through the middle to a single brazen elevator. She snorted to herself. Classy, she thought. Like this was some kind of european hotel. Her high heels clicked eerily on the path. The high vaulted ceilings, wreathed in darkness, swallowed the sound of her steps. She wasn't halfway across the lobby when the elevator pinged. A single green light clicked to life and the door opened. A man in a long dark coat stood inside, and that same almost-familiar look wrapped around him. She felt a little concerned. A thin trill ran up her spine. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, she thought. She stepped inside. The man next to her shifted easily. She caught that same smell, cigarettes (cloves this time) and iron. She pressed 7, and settled back for the ride. Her fellow passenger didn't say a word. Her mind wrangled with an odd sense of discomfort. That smell- He was looking at her. She knew it, she didn't even have to look. He was looking at her from under his broad-brim hat, his eyes were ice blue just like the other man's, his teeth oddly keen- She slowly turned her head. He was staring right at her. His full noble lips parted in a smile that promised horror. His eyes were blue. His teeth were oddly keen. The door pinged and opened and the man she had met that morning strode in. He was already moving at full speed as it opened, and his long lean body crashed cleanly into the other man, shoulder-checking him up into dark metal of the elevator wall. He snarled, a savage sound that terrified her and at the same time sent a curling electric shock down between her thighs. The other man protested. "Please! I didn't know-" "You've offended me. Go." The second man skulked off onto floor two. She watched as the doors closed and he flashed her a smile. She could see that his canines were somehow wrong. Her man stood next to her. He should be warm and at least breathing hard after an exertion like that, after running into an elevator and throwing a man against a wall, but a chill like a winter twilight flowed off him. In fact- she noted with shock- there was a little frost and ice in the cuffs of his jeans and around the soles of his boots. The frost was a little pink. "I'm sorry about that." His voice cut through her observations. She snapped her eyes up to look at his face. His eyes were like cold fire, and the blood was pooled in his cheeks. He had just been somewhere very cold. "Ivan is a friend, but not a good one, and he has... a very poor way with women." "It's alright," she said, knowing she was fawning again, hating herself for it. "He didn't do anything wrong." Her man laughed, a short bark of wry amusement. "Wrong. It's a funny concept." She laughed along, wanting to share the moment, watching his face and eyes for any sign of- anything. His smile, she thought. His smile and his teeth... He leaned into her and kissed her, gently, his lips a cool gentle pressure against hers. His tongue darted gently against hers, and she felt the cool of his body in his breath. He leaned back and appraised her. Her cheeks flushed, her red-painted lips were curled into a smile, her face an open book of friendly interest and sexual attraction. Perfect. The elevator dinged, and he led her out into the abyss. The whole seventh floor of this building had been hollowed out around the utility core, with a large block suite in each corner and large, floor-to- ceiling tinted glass windows. There were circles of low black furniture, obvious quality, and they were crowded with intense groups of men and women. There was a black light and soft red light over it, so she couldn't make out too many details, but it looked like it was quite a party. The other major feature of the floor was a bar that circled the entire utility core, and several bartenders stood impeccably at attention, their hands folded behind their backs, racks of clean glasses on the shelves behind them. The bar was pretty empty for a party. She shrugged inwardly. Maybe it was just early. He caught her hand and led her forward. "Come on, let's find my friends. They all want to see you." That was a little creepy, she thought, distracted. Well, somebody was drunk already- someone was clearly passed out on a nearby couch, and some lucky guy had two girls all over him, straddling his legs and leaning into him. "Here," he said, pressing a drink into her hand. When she looked up, he grinned that odd flat grin. "Relax, I didn't put anything in it. Wouldn't want you to miss what's coming up." She took a sip, and then two two things happened in unison. First, the voice that had been warning her earlier broke through with the force of an air-raid siren, and second, she recognized the smell. It was blood, fresh and hot, drying in air. She gasped. He looked back, and saw that his spell was broken. His grin widened. His canines were sideways. She stared, shocked. That's what it was- some kind of crazy, subtle tooth deformity, something wrong with his mouth, almost unnoticeable except in the black light that flicked on and off behind them- And it would just be odd, even endearing, except that other man had had the exact same canines. Her mind, suddenly freed, raced back to the unconscious person and the dark stains on her clothes- The man with two women, had he been caressing their backs or (she thought back to his jerking, spasmodic hands, so obvious now) struggling... His grin was brilliant. "Figured something out, sweetheart?" His grip had become iron strong. Suddenly he was against her, his cool blood- reeking body inside her space, his arms around her, his lips warm against hers, against her cheek, against her jaw, against her- here she began to struggle- throat- She felt his back tighten and his head move suddenly. A spark of pain burst on her throat. He moved away, and she felt a tiny trickle of blood trickling away from his kiss. "You..." she whispered. Suddenly his eyes weren't cold at all anymore- they were furnace-bright and hungry, savage even. His head darted in again. Another savage kiss, another opened wound. Two thin trickles of blood ran down her throat. Whatever else he was, he was more aroused than she had ever seen a man. His upper body was taught and trembling with readiness, his pants visibly strained in the front, his eyes- oh, his eyes- He grabbed her again and kissed her, dragging her as he did towards a low circle of couches. "Come along," he whispered, breaking his kiss. "It's time to meet my friends." Why couldn't she stop him? Why couldn't she stop herself? And why, despite the fear, the blood, and the knowing of what he was going to do to her, wouldn't her body stop its furious need? Her throat was slick with blood, but between her legs a more intimate wetness cried out for him. She was trapped, and she knew it. The last part of her that resisted fell silent, like prey resigned to their predator's jaws, like a rabbit giving up to the snare. He threw her down on the couch. Another man in a long dark coat and two women- a brunette and a redhead- were already there. The redhead had a little bag like a capri-sun in her hand. It took her a second to notice that it was full of medical blood. The redhead sipped and smiled. Her teeth were bloody, and her canines were sideways. Her host casually grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her bloodstained throat. "Friends, meet my new pet. She's dinner." She could hear them shifting, feel two warm bodies at her sides- the man and the brunette. Each planted a soft kiss on her throat, right below the nicks her new owner had made, cleaning the blood off of her with patient, delicate tongues. She jumped a little as the brunette cupped one of her breasts to hold her still. "Delicious," proclaimed the brunette. The man mumbled his agreement into the pale slit skin of her throat. She tried to struggle free, but the first man grabbed her thighs and held her still. She could feel a rising panic in herself that was breaking away whatever spell he had over her- which only made it worse, because she knew it was too late now. "Vampires," she cried, which seemed a little superfluous since two of them were already at her throat. Something unexpected happened. Her owner reversed his grip on her legs, parting them easily with his unnatural strength, and knelt down between her thighs. "You could call us vampires... if we stopped at taking your blood..." he grinned up at her, and then ran his hands up her thighs, pushing her little black dress up and up- she tried to struggle but the brunette tightened her hold on her breast, and the man grabbed hold of her other side, holding her still... "Ahh," her owner said, facing her exposed cunt. "I see you obeyed orders." "What a good girl," the brunette cooed in her ear, kissing her cheek- She stared, caught up in the madness, as he kept eye contact lowering his head against her. His tongue against her made her hips buck and a gasp of pleasure escaped her mouth. The redhead leaned forward, drew a long sip from her IV bag. "Ooh... I love this part." His skilled tongue working away between her thighs, her two dedicated predators kissing her neck, jaw, lips, ears- draining blood from her opened arteries- a third and different kind of predator bringing her to a pinnacle of pleasure with his skilled tongue- Suddenly the brunette's mouth was against hers. She could taste her own blood in her mouth, a strange coppery tang. The brunette's eyes were alight. "You could call us vampires..." They used her all night. She could remember it in flashes- her dress torn off, her breasts crushed against the black glass of the windows while her owner took her savagely from behind, forcing her to come over and over again- Being bound, bent over the edge of a bed, the smooth wet pussy of the brunette spread with two delicate pale fingers, being locked between her iron thighs while she quickly tried to master the art of oral sex. The raw agony of the lash, while she could hear them laughing at her pain and humiliation, while she tried to scream around the gag in her mouth. Cruel metal biting into her nipples, her lower lips, her clit- they seemed to have an endless appetite for her. (And how literal- a simple bite on her inner thigh turned the redhead's generous cunnilingus into dinner and a show, and she could feel the blood trickling down her thighs now, so much brighter and more vital than monthly blood.) They owned her now, body and soul, pleasure and pain. She hated herself for responding, hated herself for every moan, every gasp, every spasm of pleasure that made her mouth fall open with animal pleasure. She was being raped- being taken over and over again by a group of brutal, violent strangers, who saw her as nothing more than a plaything- and (she thought, numb with horror)- as a meal with benefits. She was filthy, a weakling among immortals. They would take what they wanted and leave what was left- an empty husk. They were worse than vampires- they were drinking up her dignity, her self-respect, her self. This brutal pleasure they had indulged a thousand times before, and would a thousand times again. As her lips closed around another stiff cock, as she tasted her own cunt there, the horror of the situation was lost. So she was meat. She'd always been meat, her whole life- they were just being honest, in the way they had taken her, fucked her, raped her, and were slowly, drop by drop, eating her. Two delicate feminine fingers slipped slickly into her, and crooked in rapid rhythm against her g-spot. A narrow pointed tongue flicked the delicate bud of her clit. There were worse ways to die. Finally, she was tied kneeling, a lit candle balanced between her breasts spilling hot wax down her flanks and pale vulnerable belly every time she shook- which was often. She had lost a lot of blood- her predators weren't above taking the occasional nip while they used her- and utterly exhausted. Her owner was gently tracing the red trails the wax had made with his cool fingers. "We've had a lot of fun with you, my pet, but it's over now." She didn't answer, except from the tears that welled in her eyes. "There's just one last step." He knelt behind her, putting one hand across her mouth, the other holding her ribs in place and cupping a breast. "This is death," he whispered in her ear. "The end. We pick our new companions carefully, and you haven't made the cut. You'll be found in the river, another victim of this brutal city, your rape and murder just another statistic." He leaned close and ran his canine against her cheek. It was diamond-sharp, cutting a thin line under her eye that wept a few weak tears of blood. "Goodnight, pet." His muscles tightened, and he moved. She instinctively tried to scream through his hand, but all that came out was a muffled mew of protest as his teeth began to close into her throat. This was it- all over now. A wet red flash, an agony that seemed to last forever and was bright as a star, and then the hellish feeling of your own body being emptied of what made it alive. The burning candle dropped from its perch, burning her as it fell. She barely noticed. She jerked against him like a deer in a cougar's jaws, like a mouse in the talons of an eagle. When she was empty he left her fall. She sank helplessly to the floor. The open wound in her throat didn't even drip. *** She awoke in a freezer, suspended from the ceiling- not from a meathook, but from the proper kind used for human suspensions, sunk expertly into the flesh of her back and supporting her weight easily. She noticed the immense quantity of meat- chilled but not frozen- on a bench in front of her. Hunger that was like a second mouth opening in her stomach ripped through her, and with casual, inhuman strength, she lifted herself off the hooks and landed on the floor. She ate for a long time- she couldn't stop herself- before she noticed the envelope. The cold meat was terribly unsatisfying, even though she knew was top sirloin and filet mignon, bloodily raw (just the way she liked it- now) but lacking that certain something- that certain- aliveness. She looked down. The pattern of her bite was odd- her canines were sideways. The envelope was addressed "Pet." She grinned. So it wasn't over.

_This story is a re-submission, and was submitted under my drksideofthemoon account._ Carly, this story is for you, wherever you are... All characters, including the car, are at least 18 years of age. Carly's knees went weak as the purple car drove by. It brought back memories of something that had happened in her past. She had been recently divorced and had moved back in with her sister, and her family for a few months. There had been a neighbor, and a car. Not just any ordinary car, a car so sensual that even to this day the mere thought of it stirred a warmth in Carly's thighs. The neighbor had been a few years older than Carly, and had been divorced for three years when she moved in. Mike was a nice enough man, well-mannered, decent looking. At that time in her life, Carly hadn't been interested in starting another relationship with a man. The divorce had taken its toll on her. Apparently, Mike was in a similar situation, he never once in the three months Carly lived next door ever made the slightest pass at her. He was amiable towards her, always had a smile when she appeared, but nothing more. They had one thing in common, cars. They both loved cars and everything to do with cars. When they talked about cars, a passion came over the both of them. The only _date,_ they ever had was going to a car show together. They must have looked like kids in a candy store, the both of them ogling, and gushing over their favorites. Mike had a '70 Cuda in his garage that he had spent the past two years restoring; it was the love of his life. Carly loved the lines of that car; it was almost sexual the way it flowed from front to back. She would often walk over and sit on a stool in Mike's garage and watch him work. The way he caressed the body of the car with his hands as he worked, it reminded Carly of the way lovers touched one another. He would often spend hours making sure one spot was perfect. There was a passion in his work usually only reserved for members of the opposite sex. As the car came together, the individual parts joining to form a complete car, Carly found she was becoming more and more turned on by just the car itself. Late at night when the urge to touch herself came over her, she fantasized about touching the car as she masturbated. She would imagine lying on the hood, the cool metal under her tight, firm ass, her back against the windshield, her legs bent at the knees, spread wide, her hand between her legs, touching, caressing, driving. Her nipples would harden, and grow, almost bursting forth from the flesh of her breasts when her finger reached between her legs. Her hand would caress her smooth, shaved mound, her finger slowly drifting down. She felt herself growing wetter and wetter, her finger now slowly rubbing her hard clit. Her ass squirmed against the smooth metal while her finger slowly increased in speed. She squeezed her breasts with her other hand, tugging and pulling at her erect nipples.. She would roll over, her legs pushing up, her breasts squashed against the roof, her cheek flat on the cool steel. Her finger rubbed over her clit, and deep into her slippery tunnel, in and out, faster, faster. Her hips beginning to thrust against her hand, but it wasn't her hand she was fucking, in her mind it was the car. Her free hand would claw against the metal, trying to squeeze it as she began to peak. After her orgasm had passed she would lay in her bed trying to catch her breath, her body bathed in sweat. The car had been sent to the paint shop to have the final bodywork done, and then over to the upholstery shop to have the interior finished. She would watch Mike pacing about his empty garage like a nervous father in the delivery room. A couple of days before the car returned from the upholstery shop Mike had excitedly waved Carly over. He showed her a crate that had just arrived. Inside the crate was a factory fresh 426 Hemi built to Mike's specifications. The motor was a monster, the valve covers were huge, and everything about the motor was massive. In 1970 the 426 was conservatively rated at 425 horsepower, and was probably closer to 470. Mike figured the way this motor was configured it was easily going to pump out well over 700 horses. When the car was finally finished, and ready for the road Carly thought it was sexiest car she had ever laid her eyes on. The roof was black, the top of the body started with a metal flake purple, as it traveled down the body it got darker, almost to black at the bottom. The paint gleamed; the car virtually shimmered in the evening light. Mike looked at Carly. "She's ready to go, I'm going to take her out tonight for a run to check things out, do you want to go?" Carly felt her heart race. "I would love that." Mike checked his watch. "Okay be here at seven." As Carly sat in the passenger seat, she was struck by the austerity of the interior. Mike had laughed. "Well, they built them for one thing, to go fast." She fumbled with the full race harness Mike had installed. He watched her for a few moments, then opened the passenger door, knelt down and helped her adjust it. As he adjusted the shoulder straps his hands brushed over her breasts, she looked at his eyes, but there was no sign that he had even known what he had done. He brought the last of the belts up between her legs, and as he fastened it, Carly felt a surge of electricity through her body as his knuckles brushed against her mound. Mike blushed, and softly murmured, "Sorry." Carly closed her eyes, the touch hadn't bothered her, after all she was in the car. As he tightened, and tugged on the straps she almost felt like she was being bound by the car. Her pulse quickened, and she felt her body warming. She felt her small, firm breasts almost mashed to her chests by the belts, her nipples were already rock hard. Mike strapped himself in, he turned to Carly. "You ready?" Carly had nodded. "Anytime." Mike turned the key, the familiar whine of a Mopar starter sounded, then all hell broke loose. The massive motor came to life with a roar. Carly had never experienced anything like it. It assaulted all of her senses at once, the noise, the smell of the high octane racing fuel, the vibration of the car. Mike let the oil, and water temperatures come up, as he waited he turned to Carly, "If anything happens, push down hard on the release on your harness and run like the devil's on your heels. This thing has twenty gallons of one ten octane gas, if it burns, it'll go like hell." Carly nodded, affirming that she understood. Her body was beginning to react to the car. This was wilder than her fantasies had been; the car was sexually turning her on. Mike depressed the clutch, grasped the pistol grip shifter, and eased it into reverse, they were moving. As in most cars that have been built for power, and nothing but raw power, the big Hemi ran rough at low RPM's. The engine surged and loped at idle causing the car to shake. The exhaust sounded like the low rumble of thunder of a summer storm. Carly watched his hand on the shifter, the way he stroked it at the light waiting for it to change, it reminded her of watching a hand stroking a hard cock slowly. She wondered if Mike used his hand like that on himself. She felt her juices beginning to flow in her pussy; the thought of watching him masturbate turned her on. The vibrations where coming through the belt between her legs, her clit was hard, it was like touching herself with her vibrator, but with so much more power. Once out of town Mike's face looked ghostly in the glow of the dashboard lights, "Now are you ready to see what it can really do?" Carly nodded, she was afraid to speak; she thought her voice might betray her building sexual excitement. Mike blipped the throttle a couple of times, the car shook as the massive torque from the engine tried to twist the body from the frame, finally he revved the motor, popped the clutch, and hammered the gas. Immense amounts of high octane racing gas flowed through the twin 1150 cfm carburetors as all eight barrels opened at once. The accelerator pump squirted raw gas into the maw of the massive carburetors. The tall lobes of the full race cam pushed down on the intake valves, pistons sucked the fuel air mixture down through the intake manifold then compressed the explosive mixture in the high compression engine, and the hot spark from the plugs ignited an inferno inside the cylinder. The explosion drove the piston downward, each cylinder of the big block V-8 repeating the same series of events over and over, and faster, and faster. As the clutch engaged Carly felt herself being slammed hard against her seat, the front end of the car lifted, and twisted as the wide racing slicks fought for traction against the asphalt. What had been a low grumble was now a wild roar; she fought to keep her breath. She wished she could put her hand between her legs right now, she wanted to feel her finger fucking herself right now, and this was wilder than anything she had ever experienced before. She felt the front end slam to the ground as Mike shifted from first to second, then she was slammed back in her seat again, the front end lifting again. The roar from the exhaust, the unearthly howl from the intake as the engine gulped massive amounts of air, and fuel battered her senses. Her hips moved up and down pressing her vibrating clit hard against the belt between her legs. Carly was drunk with lust as Mike shifted from second to third, her breathing was ragged and wild, she wished she had something to fuck herself with, she needed something deep inside her. She wanted release, she wanted to cum. The shift from third to fourth was nowhere near as violent as the previous shifts had been; but the rear end of the Cuda still squatted down from the torque, she moaned softly, she was so hot, so wet, and now so close. Her hips humped harder and harder against her belt, her erect clit being stimulated by both her movements, and vibrations of the car. This is what this car was born to do, run hard, and run fast. The 426 Hemi had been designed for one reason, and one reason only, to produce inordinate amounts of power, to race, and to win. If anyone had been watching, it would have looked like purple streak as the car screamed by, the sound from the exhaust shaking the ground. Under the hood the headers were beginning to glow cherry red from the heat of the burning gases being expelled from the engine. Suddenly it was over, they were decelerating, Mike looked over at her, "What do you think, should we do it again." All Carly could do was nod. Midway through the second run she peaked, it was all she could do to keep from screaming out, her hands gripped her shoulder harness tightly while her hips moved up and down quickly. Her body shook as the engine roared, lights flashed in her head. As the car came to a halt she felt limp, exhausted. She looked over at Mike and smiled, "That was one hot ride, how fast did you get up to?" Mike grinned, "I dunno, the speedometer got buried at one-forty and we still had about two grand left." Carly felt wild, and alive, it seemed like every nerve in her body was on fire, she was almost at sensory overload. On their way home, a kid in his hopped up Honda pulled up beside them at a light and motioned that he wanted to take the Cuda on. Mike looked over at Carly and winked, "Hang on, we are going to kick a little butt here." At that moment if Mike had said, "Wanna fuck?" Carly would have been all over him like white on rice. The thought of racing another car out here on the street turned her on all over again. Carly grinned at Mike, "Take him!" The light turned green, the Honda sounded like an angry bumblebee in heat, and the Hemi Cuda sounded like the hounds from hell had been unleashed. The smaller, lighter Honda took the lead through the intersection, but power is power, although the Cuda weighed over a thousand pounds more than the Honda, it probably had a four hundred and fifty horsepower advantage. As the RPM's in the 426 climbed, Carly found herself becoming more and more sexually turned on. As the Hemi hit seven grand and Mike slammed the shifter into second the Cuda passed the Honda and never looked back. After she had gotten home Carly had headed straight to bed. Tonight her fingers weren't going to be enough. She wanted to feel herself being filled. As she plunged the soft plastic cock in and out of her pussy she relived the evening in the car. She had cum so hard, and so loud that her sister had knocked on her door to make sure she was okay. Over the next few weeks each time Mike took the Cuda out he would ask Carly if she wanted to go, and she never refused. They had even taken it out to the local drag strip a few times, racing against other cars. Although she wasn't able to ride in the car as Mike raced it, just the sound of the car made her shake. Carly had asked Mike once, "Isn't there anyone else you'd sooner take?" Mike had just shook his head, and gave her a shy smile, "No, not really. I think you appreciate the car, and you seem to enjoy it." Carly wasn't sure if the enjoy was a reference to the sexual pleasure she got from riding in the car, and she didn't care. If Mike knew she was getting turned on beyond belief that was fine, he had never tried to take advantage of the situation. Mike had been out of town when Carly got the phone call she had been hoping for. Her job application for a good position with a great company had been accepted, and they had offered her the position. The only downside was that the job was across the country. Carly had written Mike a letter, and she walked over to his dark house to leave it in the mailbox. She looked at the garage, and decided to leave it in the car. Mike had given her the code to open the garage. Her fingers trembled slightly as she punched in the code; she stood back as the door raised. There it was, although it was cold and quiet, it still exuded power and speed. Carly thought the Cuda was so sensual, almost phallic. She could feel butterflies in her stomach; she had never been alone with the car before. She walked into the garage and closed the door down. Carly was alone with the car. Her finger traced along the smooth lines of the car as she walked around it. Just the touch of the smooth paint sent chills up her body. The body of the car glowed softly in the dim light of the garage. Little surges of pleasure coursed through her body as she continued walking around the car. Her nipples hardened first, her pulse quickened, her breathing became shallow. She leaned across the hood; it felt so smooth, so sensual. She was aware of her increasing arousal. Carly walked, and stood in front of the car, and slowly began to unbutton her shirt. Slowly and sensually her hips rocked as she slowly undid each button like she was teasing a lover. She let the shirt slip from her shoulders, and drop to the floor. Her hands reached behind her back, and undid the clasp of her bra. It dropped from her shoulders, and joined her shirt on the floor. Carly raised her hands to her breasts, slowly squeezing them, and her hard nipples at the same time. Her hands drifted down to her jeans, unbuttoning them. Carly wanted the car to see her nakedness as she stepped out of her jeans. Slowly she slipped her panties off, revealing her smooth shaved mound. Her hand ran down her body, and in between her legs. She wanted the car to see her puffy lips between her legs. A soft moan came from her lips as she found her slit already slick with her juices. She walked to the car, and raised one of her long, lithe legs and laid one along the fender, her other leg on the ground. The feeling of the car against her body was exhilarating, she felt herself growing wetter, and wetter. She pressed down with her hips and could feel her clit touching the metal. She gasped, and then began moving back and forth, her wet lips sliding along the fender. Leaning forward she let her nipples drag along the smooth surface. The cool touch of the car only made her nipples harder, and harder. She touched one of her nipples; she loved it when they were hard like this. As she pinched a nipple she could feel her swollen clit tingle. Carly rolled, and slithered all over the car, sometimes her finger rubbing her excited clit, other times she pressed it against the car. She caressed the body with her hands, licked it seductively with her tongue, doing the same things she would do to excite a lover. She opened the driver's door, and slowly she climbed into the seat. Her hand went back between her legs as one hand went to the steering wheel. What would it feel like, holding on to this wheel, feeling the power surging through it as the car accelerated. She closed her eyes and began to alternate between fingering her tight, wet pussy, and rubbing her swollen clit. The pistol grip shifter caught her eye; she had imagined that this was the cock of the car. She removed her hand from her pussy, and she began to touch the shifter. It was so hard, so smooth. Her hand began to move slowly up and down, she imagined that it was a stiff cock. She loved how it felt in her hand; it had been so long since she had held a cock. Up and down, up and down, she stroked it tenderly as her left hand reached between her legs. Her hips moved up and down on her finger. She leaned over, licking the tip of the shifter, it felt so hard, and she lowered her head, taking the shifter into her mouth. She could taste Mike on the shifter. Her head moved up and down, sucking on the shifter like she was sucking on a cock. Her finger rubbed her clit faster and faster, her finger in her pussy wasn't satisfying her. She wanted something to fill her up; she needed to feel something driving in and out of her wet tunnel. "Oh fuck, I am so hot, I have to fuck," she moaned while she masturbated. Her gaze was still on the shifter as her hand continued stroking it, she needed a cock right now, and she wanted to feel it driving deep inside of her. Carly positioned herself over the shifter, opening her pussy lips with one hand, and bracing herself with the other. Slowly she descended, she gasped as the shifter entered her wet tunnel, and it felt so hard. She moaned as her hips began to move her up and down sliding the shifter in and out of her pussy. "Oh fuck me, fuck me hard," she moaned as her hips rose and fell driving the shifter cock deeper and deeper. Carly pinched hard on her nipples, pulling hard on them as the shifter slipped in and out of her. She was close to cumming, she wanted to cum so desperately. A vision of Mike jacking off while watching her fucking his car came through her head, and that sent her over the edge. She moaned loudly as her body shook, she could feel the walls of her pussy contracting, and trying to grip on the shifter. Lights exploded in her head; in her mind she could hear the wild howl of the Hemi as she came. It took some time for her to regain her composure, and to get dressed. She had left the note to Mike, and her bra on the dash of the car. Just before she left the garage she leaned down and kissed the body of the car softly, and whispered, "Thanks." As the memory faded, Carly's knees were still weak when she got to her own car. She sat there quietly for a few minutes. Maybe she needed to take a few weeks off and go back and visit her sister... Author's note: There is some story development in the beginning to set the tone. And I appreciate all feedback! With a backflip, she leapt off the precipice of the Second Bastion, descending into the lower depths of the Eternal City. At a modest height of 5' 8'', she was perfectly formed for acrobatics and skillful movements. The girl ran the rest of the way. The streets were dark and the lighting was dim. As she ran she skillfully weaved between puddles and crevices; one false step and she would cut herself. She was barefoot. Finally, rounding another corner, she reached her destination: A small bar in one of many forgotten alleyways. The rich had never bothered to come down here, such as it is, preoccupied with their Holy Light. After all, the city was built for ascension - if the homeless and downtrodden lived in the crime- ridden slums, that was their issue, not the concern of a Citizen, and certainly not the Judicator. They would never find her here. Here she was nobody. Just another skinny girl living off the scraps of the Generals and Archons, and it's been that way for 18 years, her entire life. She knocked on the door, twice deliberately, once with the palm of her hand, and thrice more with her knuckles in rapid succession. Like a charm, the heavyset wooden door opened, and a grimy man peered out at her. "Nessa. You're late." "I had some things to do, old man. Things you've grown to old to remember." She skipped in, eager to get away from the dangers of the alleyway. For even for the likes of her, the night life was potentially lethal. With a grunt, the barkeep closed the door. "The next time you go out on your little missions, maybe I won't let you back then." This turned the girl's head. "I'll believe you when you do it, Dorvan" The old man grunted. "Young lass, you will never learn. We don't have the power to change things around here. Your actions will only get you killed. Look at what has become of the King. A man that powerful, and even he couldn't protect himself in the end." Nessa turned her head sharply. "What do you know about anything, Dorvan? Ever since I was a child, you've been a timid old man. We need to have the courage to do things around here, like that blasted gate always reminds us every time we walk through it." "THAT'S ENOUGH!" The suddenness of the shout made Nessa hop backward like a startled doe. Dorvan sighed and took control. "Nessa... Someday you will understand. Now please go to bed. Your client's been waiting for an hour for our best girl. No more escapades, understand? There's a drink for you before you get started." Shaking her head, the girl walked upstairs. What's the difference? Her life is one unending cycle of frustration and abuse. Each morning she wakes up to a corrupt, dessicated empire, work some odd jobs, and get paid for it in the evening with a place to sleep and another desperate man looking to escape the harsh reality of modern life. She undressed as she walked up the stairs, acrobatically catching and turning the few scraps of clothing she called her own, folding them all in a neat pile by the time she reached the top. Sighing, she downed the liquor and knocked on her own door. "Come in!" A deep voice called out from the other side. She froze. It couldn't be. With trembling hands, she turned the doorknob. And breathed a sigh of relief. It was just another Lieutenant of the Eternal Legions. "Infernal Legions more like," She whispered under her breath. The man smiled broadly. "They said the whores from the Midland Wood are breathtaking in beauty. But I've never believed them until today." She did a small curtsie as she presented all 110 pounds of her naked body to tonight's client. "What can I do to please you, sir?" She said, placing her clothes in a pile on the floor next to the bed. Her client tracked her moves. "Put those on." He said. "So I can rip them off." Every night. She was growing tired of this nonsense. Every night since she's turned 18. Ever since she grew old enough to rent out her body the gangs that owned the bar discovered a new use for her other than petty thievery and sweeping drug delivery sites. And quite a profitable trade it was. "Come on girl, I ain't got all night. If you want your tip you'd better do." He leaned forward. "as." Grabbed her left upper arm. "I." Pulled her forcefully towards his stinking, alcohol-tinged breath. "SAY!" The man pushed her away, but Nessa quickly gained her balance, bouncing away and dropping to one knee. In one fluid motion, she lifted her clothes and put them on once again. "As you wish, sir." At this rate she feared the night might be another wash. She was already late, and the last few customers have rated her services poorly. She has to pick it up or end up like Astreia. She liked her limbs just where they were, thank you very much. Standing to attention, the man at last stood up, still clad in legion garb. He was only slightly taller than she was, but more than twice as heavy. If things went wrong, she would have a hard time getting out. With one motion, he ripped the rags off, in the process destroying them. She grimaced. She will have to ask the barkeep for some string to sew them up in the morning. Another chore she would have to somehow find the time for. "On your knees, bitch." She dropped to her knees. "Haha, it's like you were born to be a little slave doll. Now throughout this session, I want you to beg for my cock, cause I won't stop hurting you until you're screaming for me to fuck you in all your worthless holes." She grimaced. This would be a long night. "Open up bitch, we'll start there." She opened her mouth, and the man plowed in. Immediately, she noticed something was off. This soul's expression (penis) was much larger than normal. Impossibly so. By the time it hardened, she must have felt at least 13 inches in there, and twice the girth as an average shaft. She started to grunt with effort. "Yeah, moan for me bitch I want to hear that slut mouth scream!" She was moaning now. Something was wrong with this. She wasn't feeling pain like she should, but pleasure. Drats! What was in that drink the barkeep gave her? It couldn't have just been beer could it? "You like this don't you? SAY IT! You like it!" It was like her mind wasn't hers anymore. She moaned like a crazy bitch, and when he pulled out of her mouth, she didn't even recognize her own words anymore. "FUCK ME DADDY FUCK ME LIKE THE CUM WHORE THAT I AM" That earned her a hard slap that sent her body to the ground. She was used to being pushed around, but this was much stronger than even she was used to. What was going on? "First, beg for it, slut. Didn't that old fucker downstairs teach you anything? Where are your manners?" And with the last word he grabbed her neck, and pulled her back up into a kneeling position. She was completely naked, her light-bronze skin glistening from her spit. "I'm sorry master please fuck me like the cum dumpster that I am. I deserve to be fucked like this for the rest of my life sir please sir I need it sir." The lieutenant leaned in. "Ha! You said sir so many times it was like you were born to say it. Come here. Crawl for the true Holy Light!" He gestured to his member. What was she doing? Nessa dropped to hands and knees, and crawled in the most humiliating way possible to the man, who started undressing in earnest. When she arrived, all she saw was a rippling hunk of muscle. This man could rip her in half at his slightest whim. That made her shake in fear. "Please sir, I know I have been bad, please spare my life, I will never be late or question your orders again sir," she gasped. The man reached down and cupped her face in his hands. "That's alright sweetheart. Daddy's got you now. He won't hurt you." Then, like the flip of a coin, he grabbed her roughly by her legs and lifted her over his body. Only with years of acrobatics did she learn to keep herself upright through all this, and wrap her arms around the lieutenant's broad, rippling shoulders. Then the thrusting began. She screamed with ecstasy. He moaned with pleasure. And it was almost as if this was a normal relationship, but for the hand around her neck. This couldn't have been the beer, she suddenly realized. Nothing tasted different. This must have been who she was all along. Immediately, she realized something: That she wasn't special. She wasn't destined to change anything. All she was destined to do was to service this man's cock until one of them died. "OHHHH, AHHUNNNGG, AHHHHGNNNNN!" "beg for me bitch!" "YES DADDY YES FUCK ME LIKE THE SLAVE I AM I WANT TO BE YOUR WORTHLESS LITTLE SLAVE FOREVER" He leaned in close. "Then you will go with me to my dungeon in Dominia?" "YES SIR I WILL SIR I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU ANNGGGGNNN I WAS BORN FOR THIS" The man laughed. "Hahaha! And you were so close to catching the real murderer of the king too! How ironic, the very maiden who traveled out to avenge her king, enslaved to his murderer! Now ride my cock like you were born to do it!" And it did feel like she was born to do it. Her wiry frame seemed to be built to move up and down a thick rod. Her bare ankles intertwined, her quads contracted and pushed out, her biceps moved in tandem with her hips, as her abs pulled her lower half up and down the seemingly never ending shaft. Perhaps only upon experiencing a worthy enough cock was she made aware of the reason for her existence. She had it all wrong the entire time. Her destiny really was far simpler than she made it out to be. As she bobbed up and down the cock, all her muscles working in unison, the man had but stand and experience it, experience her moans of now shameless pleasure (though he would make sure she still felt shame for her new place by his side), her tongue as she licked his nipples in absolute devotion. They did not call him the mare-breaker for no reason back in his country, and he has certainly broken this one, made her see at last what her duty is, has been, and will be. The money he gave to the gang seemed well spent in the end. The slut eventually got tired. She lifted her cunt up and down his manhood again, but he wouldn't be so easy to break - or please. She was crying from the effort to please him by this point. He lifted her off with one hand, and reached out his knee. "Now, we have a saying in my homeland. No reward without equal sacrifice, no gain without loss. What do you say to that, slut?" Once again, he was pleased to discover fear in Nessa's eyes. "Sir, please, I don't want to be spanked." Roaring, he spanked her. Nessa yelped in surprise and later pain. "You are going to thank me for 5 slaps, bitch! And no, that one didn't count!" Gulping, the maiden resigned herself to her fate. SLAP! "UUUHHHNNNNN! ONE!" SLAP! "AAAUUUHHHNNNNGGNNN! TWO!" SLAP! "UUUAAAAAHHHNNNNN! THREE!" SLAP! "AUUUHHHNNNNNN! FOUR!" He wound up for the last one. SLAP! "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! FIVE!" Panting, both caught their breath. They sat up, but when Nessa made to do so, the assassin pushed her back down roughly. "You don't get to do anything without my permission bitch. Now crawl over there and rip your clothes apart with your teeth. It shouldn't be hard, they were barely rags to begin with, and I've already helped you out. What do you have to say to that, slave?" "Thank you sir," Nessa whimpered pathetically. "And that's another thing, while I'm a sir, you're a slave, and slaves don't have names. You might as well forget your given name, since you won't be hearing it again, understand? I will be giving you your new name, once I think of one appropriate for such a good slut like you. Now do as you're told!" Panting, the slave got to work right away, ripping the rags apart obediently while her new master dressed up in his mock lieutenant uniform. By the time she was done, the man had already made ready to leave. "Now, lets get out of this shithole. I've already paid your innkeep off," he laughed when the slave made to look back towards the room entrance. "In fact, he's already got a new girl lined up to replace you. Sad huh? It's sure a shame that nothing ever changes around here." He smiled, showing his bared teeth savagely. "Now come to master." She obeyed like she was born to do it, and climbed into his outstretched arm. Hurling her outside the window, she landed on the grass with a yelp, and clambered to her hands and knees. The man landed beside her. Taking out a collar and leash, he fastened it to her neck, and tied the other around his arm. "Now get going. We make for the Gate of Eternity before sunrise." The lithe slave and her master set out on their new journey. Author's Note: I really enjoyed writing this! Please let me know what you think because I will continue this story!

_I met Robbie when I was 18. I had only been with 1 other man besides him but was very experienced. We talked on the phone a lot and online. Until we met. we moved in together and he didn't know what he was in for. Here is a few of our many sexcapades._ All tied up and helpless Rob walked into the room, it was semi dark and I stayed quiet. He laid on the bed and went to sleep, still not knowing I was already home. After making sure he was fast asleep I tied up his arms and legs to the bed. I played with his cock for a few minutes, still he hasn't woke up. So I stopped playing with his now hard cock and started kissing from his stomach to his face. He soon woke up, and was confused. I didn't blame him if I had woken up all tied up I would have freaked out. He kept asking "who are you." I told him to hush I was his love, by this time he knew it was me, and started to squirm to try and get away. I smacked him across his face and told him to stay quiet and not to struggle. He did, I stoop up on the bed and plopped my already wet pussy on his face so that he couldn't breath. He was moving around and trying to scream, he was out of breath and tired quickly. He soon blacked out. When he woke I was riding his cock slowly at first then I rode him faster and harder and was grinding my pussy onto his hard cock. I could feel it throbbing inside me and knew his cock needed and wanted to cum, but by the look on his face he was scared of me and what I would do next. Before he blew his load and after I had my orgasm. I untied him and told him to get on the floor, he did. I then stepped onto his gut and started to bounce on him like a trampoline. He was getting very winded by this. I was watching his cock the whole time. I'll be damned he loved it. His cock grew another inch or so from me doing this, and before I knew it he was screaming out in ecstasy "KITTY II AM CUMMIN." He shot a huge load all over my legs, and I put them to his face and made him lick them all clean. He refused at first but one good kick to his nuts was all he needed. got piss? Robbie was in the bathroom taking his usual before bed piss. I walked in turned the light out and threw him onto the floor. He yelled at me "KITTY WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING YOU CRAZY BITCH." Was that bitch I heard.? I thought to myself "I'll show him bitch." After he had settled down I started licking his piss soaked cock, moving my tongue lightly up and down the back side of it and finally sticking it into my mouth. I sucked it in as far as it would go and started shaking my head like a dog playing with his chew toy. He loved when I would do this, it turned him on to the max. I suppose he didn't expect what was to come for him. I tied only his hands to the legs of our bathtub, and sat down on his face. He blacked out. When he woke I squatting right above his mouth and started pissing all over his face. He was trying to get away, but I had him tied tightly. After I was finished pissing I had myself a seat on his face again, but this time allowing him to breath. I told him to lick my pussy. He did. I played with his cock while he did this. His cock was so rock hard and I could tell he was going to cum soon. I got off his face and sat down on his cock and fucked him until he came inside me. I then went back to his face and told him to clean me up. He hated when I wanted him to clean his cum off of me, but he did it anyway because he didn't want to be hurt. He licked my pussy until I came and I turned on the shower and we washed together. After words we went to bed. What he did to me Robbie was in a rather odd mood this day and was very horny, but pissed at the way I had been treating him sexually. This time he waited until I was asleep and tied me up. I am a light sleeper so I woke up in the middle of him tying me down. I was to tired to fight him so I let him tie me down. I knew (thought) he would be gentle he had never been rough with me. He walked out of the room and when he got back he had something in his hand. He sat down between my legs and before I knew it He slammed something into my pussy and fucked me with it. My pussy was so sore from this object I had never experienced before. He fucked me with it until I was in tears. He kept yelling "YOU LIKE TO PLAY ROUGH DO YOU BITCH? I'LL GIVE YOU ROUGH." I was crying so hard and all he could say was "yes cry bitch I love to hear my little whore cry.......I am going to hurt you tonight whore." He untied my legs and put my feet up by my head and held them there with one hand. He then took the object from my aching sore used pussy and put the tip of it to my ass. I begged him not to put it there, but he said "whore I told you I am going to hurt you tonight." There was nothing I could do he was so strong. He slowly put the object in my asshole and then started moving it faster and faster and finally slammed the whole thing inside my virgin ass. I was crying very hard now, but inside I knew I wanted and deserved whatever treatment I got. He stopped raping my ass for a minute put my legs down and left the room again. Again he came back with something in his hand. He sat back down between my legs and lifted them back up the my head. He stuck the object back into my ass and then stuck another into my pussy this one was much larger then the last one and it hurt much worse. Knowing he could not fuck me with both of them at once if he had to hold my legs up he tied my legs to my hands, I was in a very very unusual position. He then started to fuck my ass and my pussy with the 2 objects. I was in pain for a few minutes then I started to enjoy it and the more I moaned in pleasure he fucked me harder my ass was hurting my pussy was sore, but I had to cum I had to have more. I screamed at him to fuck me harder rape my ass and pussy. He smacked my ass and said "don't talk don't make a sound." I shut up, but inside I wanted to scream just to see what he would do to me, but I didn't, my pussy and ass were hurting and I couldn't handle any more. He took the objects out of my abused pussy and ass and threw them on the floor. he got up and kneeled between my legs and stuck his 8 inch cock inside my sore pussy. He fucked me, smacked me, and made me cum within 5 minutes. He got up untied my legs and sat on my chest and spewed his cum all over my face and mouth. And then gave me a sweet, tender, passionate kiss, and said "I love you Kitty my sweet little whore" and untied my arms. I told him I loved him and turned on the lights to see what it was he fucked me with. I couldn't believe my eyes the first object was a 10 inch long 6 inch round dildo and the second was a 12 inch long 8 inch round cucumber. No wonder it hurt so bad. _You know all the usual stuff, don't read if it's illegal or you don't like sex or sex between two males offends you. Joshua Glynn reserves all rights to this story, the characters, and the world they live in._ _________________________________________________ Acceptance _________________________________________________ I was a typical teenage boy. I liked all of the things most typical boys my age were into, girls, games, girls, sports, girls, cars, girls, movies, and did I mention girls! I had dated several girls since freshman year, and I had fooled around with plenty of them, but I had not had sex with any of them. I wanted to have sex as much as the next guy, but I wasn't interested in a "one night stand." I wanted a relationship. It wasn't until my sophomore year that I found a girl that I really liked and dated steadily. Her name was Janice, and she was beautiful. I was kind of a big guy, not fat really, but broad and tall. I had always been a big guy. By eleventh grade, I was six foot-one, two hundred and forty pounds. I had a bit of a beer belly, but I looked like a line backer. Everyone always asked me 'why I didn't try out for sports' and although I did enjoy playing sports for fun, I had other interests. I was a geek! I loved chess, choir, band, and drama. I was even in several school plays. Yep. I was a geek, but I was a very popular geek. I was friends with most of the jocks, and I was always invited to all the big parties. At the same time I had no problem fitting in with the geek crowd either. I stuck up for them any chance I got, and our school was a fairly bully free zone. The goths, the nerds, even some of the outed gay crowd, were all counted as my friends. I was and all around kind of guy. I loved it! Janice was very special to me. I knew I had strong feelings for her, and she had strong feelings for me. I don't think, however, that we were ever really 'In Love'. Oh we liked each other enough to have sex. We were each other s firsts. We both came from Christian homes, and although we didn't really want to 'wait for marriage.' We both had the opinion that a committed relationship, was about as close as we wanted to get for a while. She was like me and didn't like the idea of just sleeping with the next guy that came along. We just really clicked together and we were the couple of the tenth and eleventh grade. I also had this best friend. His name was Sylvester. I always called him Sly. We had been best friends for almost four years. Its beginnings are a bit strange though. You see Sly had been the skinny runt that all the neighborhood kids picked on. That was, until I moved into town. I had been walking through the new neighborhood, just checking things out, when a commotion caught my eye. I was fourteen at the time, but I had already started getting big. I liked to workout on the home gym, and just really liked working out, I know weird huh? There were three kids about my age or maybe a year younger, none of them as big as me, picking and hitting this small, skinny kid. I started getting mad... I hate bullies. I ran over to see what was going on. "Hey! What are you guys doing to that kid?" "Who the fuck are you, dillhole?" "Yea, mind you own business!!" the tallest of them said to me. The tall one then grabbed the poor kid again and he cried out in pain, tears streaking his face. His shirt had been ripped and I could see a bruise on his side. That was all I could stand! I walked up to the first smart mouth, and landed a blow right on his nose. He went down holding his nose. I then spun around and round house kicked the shocked one standing to my left. He spun around and landed face first on ground, not moving. I think I knocked him out. That just left the asshole still holding on to the kid. He released the kid once he realized what I had just done and I'm sure the look on my face wasn't helping much, because he looked terrified. The small kid fell to the ground, being released, clutching his bruises. The asshole backed away, turned, and tried to make a run for it, leaving his buddies behind. I hate bullies, but what I hate even more are bully cowards! I did a sweep kick to his legs, and he fell to the ground planting his face in grass. I walked up, used my foot to roll him over on to his back, he was still groggy, and I applied pressure with my combat booted foot. He sobered up quick as he doubled up and grabbed at my foot, trying in desperation to relive the pain. He was crying out a bit loudly. "I guess that hurts then doesn't it?" I lifted my foot slightly and before he had time to get his hands around it, I jabbed down my foot quickly. His cries stopped as he rolled over onto his side, in the fetal position, sucking in air. None of the kids ever messed with Sly again after that. Sly and me became instant friends. There was always something about him. We just clicked. He was my best friend and I loved him like a little brother I never had. (I was an only child.) We had had so much in common. We both loved all the same things, did most of them together, we even slept over at each others houses on the weekends. We talked about, well just about everything, especially Sex. When we found some porn mags in his older brother's closet, we would sit for hours reading and looking at the pictures and talk dirty, we never jerked off around each other like some kids did. We were actually kinda shy around each other. We had never been naked around each other before, but I had no problems showering at school around the other guys. I had the broad chest, tall, muscular thing going on for me, but Sly developed into quite a strong and well toned young man himself. He came over and worked out with me often and he loved to skateboard. Skateboarding was one thing I never had the coordination for. Every time I tried I would bust my ass. Sly however, was awesome! Sly, at eighteen, was about five foot six, one hundred and fifty-six pounds. He had that skater / swimmers body, with jet-black hair that was always hanging in his bright green eyes and this pale, almost milk colored skin. He was always getting bad sun burns in the summer. He had these funny dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. All the girls thought he was so cute! I was cool for Sly, because he went from being the skinny kid that everyone picked on, to the cute little guy that was at all the cool parties, and hung out with the cool kids. The biggest benefit for him though was all the older girls that always went, "Aww he's so cute!" at all the parties. No one ever picked on him again. Sly, unlike me, was a little horn dog and used his new found fame to get it any chance he could. He started at fifteen, with a sixteen year old hottie, and never looked back. He dated a few girls his own age, but he loved the older girls. He actually had sex before me. We talked about it all though, he always told me how much fun it was and how good it felt. He was always bragging how he lasted a good twenty minutes or more. It was a few months after his first sexual escapades that I started getting serious with Janice, and we had sex for the first time. It was awesome, just as good as he had described, but better I think. Mine and Janice's relationship was more caring then his generally were. Most of his conquests were one-nighters. It was my senior year, around thanksgiving. Me and Janice had been together for almost two years. Things were good between us, but we both knew that something was not quite right. We cared a lot for each other, the sex was great, and we both remained faithful to one another, but neither one of us could say the "L" word. We had talked about it several times. We knew that at some point, we would have to break it off, but for the mean time, things were great, and we had big plans for prom night. We figured that we would probably go our separate ways when we left for college. Sly had just turned eighteen and I had turned eighteen over the summer. He was staying at my place one weekend, as we had done for four years, whenever we didn't have dates planned. It was around midnight. We were in my room, in my king sized bed, as always. As usual, we were laying there discussing the week's events. Also as usual the talk turned to our love lives, and sex. "Did I hear right? Did you dump Kim and go back to Amy again?" "Yea, what can I say? Amy is an amazing fuck! But that is it, you know... the only thing Amy wants is physical, and that's cool. She could be the perfect girlfriend. I mean she has a hot body, she is smart, popular, great sense of humor, but there is no real emotional connection there. I love sex with her, but I just need more... I'll probably break up with her in a week or two again." "How many times have we talked about this man? You need to lay off the sex a bit, and just date for a while... find the girl man!" He was grinning at me, "Man you know me! I want something more, but Sly jr. just keeps getting in the way." We both laughed at that. After a while of just laying there, almost falling asleep, Sly started a conversation that would change me forever. "Um... hey Josh? You ever have, strange sex dreams? Things of you doing things you wouldn't ever do?" "Ahh... What do you mean?" He took a big breath, "Well... I have.... Um... been dreaming of... oh just forget it!" He rolled over, away from me. I knew from the shakiness of his voice that this was something he wanted to talk about, but he seemed... afraid. "Go on Sly, you know we can talk about anything." I wasn't as prepared for what he had to say as I thought I was. He rolled back over, I think I saw a tear in his eye. "Josh, I've been... I've had several dreams lately... of..." he took a deep breath. "...of having sex with a guy!" He was staring at me, waiting for my response. "Wow..." I was a bit dumbfounded. I knew a few guys that said they were gay, but I never talked to them about the homosexuality. Being the nice straight boy that I was, I had had it beaten in that being gay was a betrayal to ones self. It was abnormal! Although around other straight guys you can joke around at being gay, but you made it clear to all in the room that it was just for a joke, and that you were as straight as they come. Being a born and raised Christian, you are told from the time you can understand, that to be gay or have gay fantasies was wrong! It was a sin against God! And my best friend in the world was just confessing to me to having Gay fantasies... My gut took over and I said the same thing that any straight boy would say if his manhood was put into question... the totally wrong thing! "Dude, that's gross... how can you stand having gay dreams?" The wide look in his eyes, and the water that began to form told me I had said the wrong thing. I knew it was wrong as soon as it had left my lips. The look on his face told me I had just fucked up! His voice was quivering, "You think I want these dreams..." There was something about the way he had said it. It was like he was trying to convince himself, and me, that he didn't want the dreams. "That's not the worst part." He was openly sobbing now, "The worst part is in these dreams... I'm having sex... with YOU!" his voice had raised at the end. I was shocked! He was not only having dreams about gay sex, but gay sex with me in them. None of that prepared me for what happened next. With the tears still streaming down his face, he moved up quickly over the top of me, and placed his lips on mine. My initial straight boy gut kicked in and tried to get him off of me, but I didn't really end up trying very hard. With my eyes locked into his tear soaked green eyes, waves of pent up emotion came over me from out of nowhere. You know how they talk about life flashing before your eyes before you die. Well I had one of those moments. The past four years flew past me in the blink of an eye, and I realized, in that moment, that what I had mistaken for brotherly feelings of friendship, where much, much more. I loved Sly! I could see it all, plan as day. My straight indoctrinated mind had not let me see it. I realized that I had always been very attracted to Sly. He was the only guy I have ever felt... shy around. I had no problem being but naked in front of the guys at in the gym shower. I was never really that modest of a person, just around Sly. All of it just to hide my own attraction, and feelings for Sly. All of my perceptions of our relationship changed with a simple kiss. Five minutes later and our first kiss was still going on. We were exploring each others tongues. Our hands were exploring our bodies. Mine was caressing his face, hair, and the back of his neck. His were on my chest checking out every inch of pectoral muscle. When we finally came up for air, Sly started to move off of me. "No, just lay down here." I said taping my chest. He unstraddled my waist and lay down on top of me draped off of my right side. We lay there for a while neither of us wanting to talk about what had just happened. His head resting on my chest, and my arms around him, He felt like he belonged there. I broke the silence, "Ok, First..." he propped up to look at me. He had this angelic look on his face. I continued, "I'm sorry for what I said a few minutes ago. I was not being honest with my self. I... I think I'm in love with you Sly!" his face became a huge grin. As I said it, it did all click in my heart. I did love him. "I haven't had dreams about you, that I can remember, but I realize that I that I have had strong feelings for you, for a very long time." He had those tears again, "Thank you! I have been waiting to talk to you about this for almost a year now." He moved up a bit a kissed me again. A few seconds later the feeling of a hand rubbing my cock though my shorts, made me realize that I had been hard for quite some time now. I became aware of his prick too, as it was pressed firmly against my hip. Part of me started screaming in my head that this was wrong. The other part of me however, was beating the hell out of the first part. My whole being wanted this, badly. My right hand found its way to his ass, while my left was grinding his mouth into mine, pushing down on the back of his head. His tongue was on fire. This was so much hotter then with Janice. His hand left my cock, and made its way under my shirt and found a nipple to tweak. I was getting so turned on by this. Sly broke our kiss, "I want to see you... all of you!" He jumped out of the bed and ran across the room to the light switch. It was about one o'clock in the morning. As my eye became used to the light, Sly began striping off his clothes as he walked back to the bed. His body was amazing. All the working out had really paid off. He had these six pack abs I would kill for, instead of the slight beer gut I had going. As his shorts hit the floor, I saw the one part of his body I never seen. His cock was beautiful. It was so hard that it was practically pointing at the ceiling. His trim, black pubes were a real turn-on and his nuts where large and hung low, at least a good five inches from his body. His cock was long, about eight inches I think, but skinny, like the rest of him. I think the only fat part of his body was the head of his prick. It was big, puffy, and a deep shade of purple. It looked a bit off since the rest of his body was a milky cream color. I sat up and started to shuck off my shirt. He jumped on the bed and went straight for my shorts. I was proud of my six-and-a-half inch monster. What it didn't have in length it more then made up for in girth. I was about as big around as a Maglight handle. I couldn't believe I was doing this, but at the same time I knew I wanted this more then anything in my whole life. Sly had flipped a switch in me and years of pent up emotion came crashing through both of us. He took my rock hard monster and began one of the best blowjobs I have ever received! (That is still true to this day!) His mouth was on fire. I was so glad that my bedroom was in the attic over the garage, and that my sleeping parents' room was on the other side of the house. I'm sure they would have heard the screams and moans of pleasure coming from my lips. I didn't last long under his assault. Within a few minutes I could feel the pressure building up. "Sly... I'm about to cum!" That did not have the effect I thought, he started to work harder. It was then that he did something I really didn't expect. I felt his wet finger press into my asshole. My initial reaction would have been to stop him, but it was way too late for that. His finger slipped into my ass, and slid surprisingly painlessly, until his knuckles were pressing against my cheeks. I felt his fingertip start to rub something deep inside me, and I exploded into rapture. I flooded his mouth with a weeks worth of built up cum, and screamed, "FUCK!!!" My whole body shook from the earthquake traveling though my body. When it slowed down I was tingling from head to foot, from the best orgasm of my short life. Sly crawled up and kissed me slowly, sharing a bit of my cum with me. I had to admit, I tasted pretty good. I had never even thought of trying my own spunk before. It was actually a bit of a turn on for me. Sly broke the kiss after a while, and looked deep into my eyes, "Josh... can I make love to you?" I didn't know what to say at first. There was still a whisper of that hetero- voice in my head saying, "No! It will make you GAY!!" but I had already decided, I was in love with this boy, and I wanted to experience everything I could with him. I was a bit scared too, because I thought of how it would hurt, but I just smiled at him, "Yes, I would like nothing more." I rolled over to the night stand, opened the drawer, and pulled out the petroleum jelly that used to beat off with. He smiled as he read my mind. He took the jar and scooped out a finger full as I pulled my legs back. I felt the cold jelly on my ass, and then his finger as he slowly worked it around my asshole. He slowly started to push into my ass again, working the jelly around just inside. He kept looking at my face to see if he was hurting me, but he went slow and worked my hole open, a little at a time. It really felt good! There was no pain the whole time as he worked one, two, and finally three fingers into my ass. Every now and then he would hit that spot again as he worked his fingers in and out. My cock jumped each time. It was now very hard again. After a few minutes of this, Sly removed his fingers and leaned forward to kiss me again. He leaned back with a hungry look in his eyes, and I felt it. His cock pressed against my ass as he slowly pushed in and out, right at the entrance. He slowly pushed further each thrust until the head broke the event horizon of my ass. There was a brief moment of pain as his head popped in, but it was replaced soon with waves of pleasure. He slowly worked his way in until his balls came to rest on my cheeks and I felt full, like I had to take a shit. Once he was all the way in, he leaned back down and we kissed for a good minute. When his lips left mine, they slowly made their way down my neck, and then on to my chest. He then, started to move his hips. Wow! I couldn't believe how good it felt. It was so different from any sex I had ever had. Not just because I was on the receiving end, but the emotions, the passion, it was more... raw, more... animal. Maybe it was because I had cared for Janice, but I had always known that didn't really "love" her. This... this was pure Love! Sly sat up and started getting a faster rhythm going. I could hear and feel his low hanging nuts, slapping my ass. I really wanted to experience this, so I whispered to him, "Harder baby! Hit it harder, I know you can!" the look on his face when I called him 'baby' was worth the price of admission, and harder he did. My bed started to squeak from the pounding Sly was giving my ass. He had placed his hands on the back of my knees, pressing them into my chest, shifting my ass so his stroke hit from a slightly different angle. The change felt amazing! I could feel my nuts tightening up. 'Shit I'm about to cum again!' I thought. It would be the first time I had ever had an orgasm without being touched. My second orgasm of the night felt even more powerful then the first. The first shot hit my nose, dribbling into my mouth. Sly grabbed my cock like it was an arcade joystick. The next few shots hit his chest, and then drooled down onto his hand. My prostate was screaming from the stimulation, I was shivering all over as my orgasm was slowing down. My ass had been squeezing his cock with every wave, but as I started to come down, he started pumping his seed deep into me. We had both been moaning and swearing rather loudly. Sly collapsed on my chest, his head resting against my neck. We were both breathing hard and sweating all over each other. The next thing I remember is waking later that morning with Sly draped across me, now laying on my right side, his head on my chest now. He was quietly snoring. He was so cute! I just laid there for about an hour, thinking over this morning's revelation. I couldn't believe I had never seen it before. I had been so blind. I even realized that there were a few other guys at school that I found personally attractive for one reason or another. My mind had been so closed. Now, it felt as though a weight had been lifted off... I have considered myself bisexual ever since, and still a monogamous person. I did break things off with Janice the next day. She was a bit upset at first, because of the suddenness, but we talked a long time about it, and agreed that we were just fooling ourselves and that we should get out there and find that right person for each other. She was still one of my best friends for a long while, until I lost contact with her a few years later after college. Me and Sly were together.... and that's all I really cared about. __________________________________________________ End

_To understand what is going on, you should read the previous chapters of San Francisco Seductions, found in the Chain Stories section of this fine web site._ Lauren Bennett let the hot water trail down her body and wash away the ache in her muscles. She'd pulled a double shift down at the café and her body was tired from standing, waiting, and serving. She rubbed fruity shampoo into her long black hair. The silky, straight hair still hung down past her shoulders, but she still felt like it was very short. Her head still felt lighter, even one month after getting it cut for the first time since she was a little girl. Still, she couldn't help but sigh as she broke with the past. After sponging her body with her pink poof, she reached for the razor. She shaved her long, shapely legs and wished her thighs were skinnier and longer. More like Kerry's. She wished she were taller than her 5'3". She wished she had the tall model's body that her blonde friend had. When her legs were satiny smooth, she took a deep breath before turning her razor on her pussy. She was careful with it, shaving it bare but for the thin landing strip of dark hair she kept above her slit. Just as Kerry had shown her last week. At first, Lauren had been scandalized by her best friend and lover's shaven sex. Lauren hadn't seen much of Kerry in recent weeks (and the two had been spending less and less time in bed together). When the sandy blonde pulled off her little thong to reveal her cunt, completely devoid of a single curl of pubic hair, Lauren blanched. It was so bad. It was so slutty! Yet so beautiful at the same time. The blonde told Lauren how much better it made sex. Much more intense. After fooling around a little, the women had adjourned to the shower so that the brunette could experience the pleasures of a shaven twat. Kerry was kind enough to leave a little mohawk of dark hair "as a reminder of the old days." Neither girl got much sleep that night. Lauren toweled herself off, glancing at herself one more time in the mirror. "I'm too pale," she thought to herself one more time, but in reality, she didn't believe it. She knew that guys loved the pale skin, dark hair look. Especially coupled with her light blue eyes. The light dusting of freckles across her little, upturned nose and high cheek bones also was a point of weird pride for Lauren. A few months ago, before arriving in San Francisco, she never would have scrutinized herself like this - at least not in a positive way. Now, she was able to smile and flip her dark hair happily as she exited the bathroom. She pulled on a sheer bra and panty set. It was black and delicate, the gauzy material doing nothing to hide her pink, silver dollar nipples or her dark wisp of pubic hair. Underwires lifted her soft, large breasts, enhancing the amount of cleavage that would peek from the tight silver tank top she planned on wearing. She slithered into a pair of tight black pants. The waist sat very low on her hips and she had to make sure that her thong remained tucked and hidden away. She checked herself in the mirror, bending over. The trousers were tight and stretchy enough not to slip too far down her firm buttocks, and they would keep her reverse cleavage hidden as she moved on the dance floor. Tall, strappy heels lengthened her body. Make-up and accessories accentuated her beauty. She was ready to go. One month ago, she would never have stepped out into public dressed like this. She hadn't owned a stitch of clothing that molded to her body like her slacks and tank top did now. Maybe it was losing her virginity. Maybe it was cutting her hair. She didn't know what brought about her change, but she didn't question it. She felt good. She felt confident. Tonight, Lauren was going to finally meet Kerry's mystery guy. Against all the odds, it appeared that the free spirited blonde had settled down with a boyfriend. When the two eighteen-year-olds had arrived in San Francisco, it didn't take them long to get introduced to the quick pace of city life. Casual sex, once a mortifying idea to Lauren, was now a healthy part of her lifestyle. Kerry had helped her come into this lifestyle. At first, their two roommates, Samuel and Jarrod, were enough to satisfy the blonde's hunger. But after a month of roommate sex, Kerry was ready to expand their circle. It was around this time that Kerry introduced her innocent friend - her eighteen- year-old virgin - to the wonders of sex with their roommate Sam. Since then, the curvy brunette had fooled around with Sam on a couple of occasions - and loved all of them - but she'd otherwise stayed celibate, concentrating primarily on making enough money to pay the bills. She'd even gone out on a few dates with men she'd met at the café, but they had lead to nothing more than a little making out at her doorstep. Despite her newfound sexual awakening, she still was nervous about sleeping with these guys. Anyway, a few weeks ago, Kerry had met a guy named Casey. Now she only sees him, although none of the roommates had met him yet. They even teased her, saying he didn't exist. Kerry was strangely shy to introduce Casey to the others. Lauren would be the first. Shelter was one of the newer clubs in the city. The San Francisco Chronicle touted it as a chic, urban center where the beautiful young creatures of the city met and danced. Stylish revelers swayed to the throbbing trance beats on the spacious dance floor lit by strobe lights, lasers, polished chrome, and the swing of dancing glow sticks. Lauren, who had only been to a few cheesy dance clubs with Kerry, was unprepared for this large and largely hip rave. She waded through the crowd, who parted before her with happy smiles and welcomes, and made her way to the backroom bar where Kerry said she would be waiting with Casey. Kerry was as stunning as ever. Her sandy blonde hair was twisted and pinned back just like it had been to their Senior Prom. Her outfit, however, was far from any prom dress: tight, dark jeans that were slung incredibly low on her slender hips; a tiny little gold halter top that hung loosely over her perfectly proportioned tits and complimented her bronzed skin; hoop earrings, glittery make-up, tall, strappy heels that pushed her athletic butt out and stretched her long body to 5'10". Kerry was smiling broadly, her dimples emerged and her eyes glowed. She screeched when she saw her friend and ran to her, keeping masterful balance on those tall heels. The blonde hugged her friend enthusiastically, crushing the shorter girl's full breasts against her own body. "I'm sooo glad you could make it!" Kerry yelled over the dance music. She hugged her friend again, then backed up enough to get an eye-full. Her hazel eyes scanned Lauren's body in a way that made the brunette's freckled cheeks flush. Their eyes locked. "God, you're so beautiful," the tall girl said, then leaned down and planted a soul-searing kiss on her friend's lips. That drew some stares. When the two girls broke their deep kiss, Kerry introduced her roommate to Casey. "My boyfriend." It was weird hearing those words utter forth from the blonde's lips. Casey was older than Lauren had expected. She estimated that he was somewhere in his thirties. But he was also very attractive. His shaved head gleamed in the colored lights above, and he had a trimmed, blonde goatee and mustache under a noble nose and a strong jaw line. He wore a tight black t-shirt that stretched over his muscles. His arms were large and adorned with black tattoos that rippled sinuously. His head bobbed to the beat of the music, taking the occasional pull from a cigarette in his hand. He nodded to Lauren confidently and said, "I've heard a lot about you. Kerry talks about you all the time." He gestured to the slim girl, who was bouncing to the beat of the music. Lauren couldn't really say the same about Casey, so she nodded politely. "Hey, I need to go and fix my lipstick," Kerry said, leaning into Lauren. She ran her hand along the brunette's shoulders as she did so. "Want to come along?" A look flashed through Kerry's eyes. Lauren nodded. "What do you think of him?" Kerry asked when they were out of earshot of Casey. "He's a hunk," Lauren said truthfully, then blushed. "I think I need a drink." Kerry gave her that look again, but said nothing. Her smile only broadened. "Have I told you that I love you, Lauren?" The shorter girl shot her friend a quick, shocked glance. Kerry kept smiling. "No--shit… that sounds like I'm in love with you!" She giggled. "I'm not! I just… think you're really awesome, that's all. None of my other friends would come out to San Francisco with me! You know?" They danced through the crowd, smiling and laughing at the other dancers. "You've been so supportive of me! And… we've had a lot of fun." She paused. "A lot of fun," she repeated. They entered the bathroom. Like the rest of the club, it was decorated with sleek metal and orange neon. The sink basin was polished black slate. "We've known each other for what? Nine years? Since my parents died? And you've been there for me the whole time! Lauren, I love you!" They hugged once again. "You're my best friend." "Hey, I love you, too," Lauren said, a bit embarrassed. "See, I love the way you blush at that. I love your innocence. I love your cute nose." She held the other girl closer, pinning her against the sink. "I love your pale blue eyes, and your freckles." Their faces were close now. Lauren could feel her friend's breath on her face. "And I love the way your body is so tight and slender and your tits look almost too big for such a fucking hot body." They lips brushed against each other and Lauren moaned. "And your pussy tastes better than any other pussy that I've tried." In the back part of Lauren's mind, she was shocked to hear that Kerry had been with girls other than herself, and mildly jealous. Right now, she wanted to taste this woman's saliva on her tongue. But then, Kerry backed off, smiling down at her friend. Both girls were flushed. Kerry picked up the beat that filtered in through the walls and went to the next sink. She reached into her bag and pulled out her lipstick. "I need a drink," Lauren muttered again, recovering. "You're such a tease." "I've got something better," the blonde with the prom-night hairdo said, reaching into her purse. "Better than what?" "A drink," she said. "Hold out your hand." Unsure what to do, Lauren did as she was told. Kerry reached into her purse, extracted something, and placed it in her friend's hand. It was a small, white pill that looked like an Aspirin. "What is it?" Lauren asked, but she already knew. Her ears were burning. Kerry looked around the bathroom, making sure no one was in any of the stalls. Then, she leaned over and whispered, "It's Ecstasy. Try it. It's better than anything I've ever felt before." "Are you…" The blonde nodded. "Oh yeah, I'm rolling. Come on, it's not going to kill you." "But…" "Sweetheart, I promise. You'll thank me for it later. Remember Sam?" If it were possible, Lauren's blush deepened. "But I'm scared." "Don't be, honey. I'm here. I'll take good care of you. And in a half hour, you'll have no worries." "Are you sure that it's okay? I mean, I've… I've heard things." "Lauren, baby, love… I've done it five times before tonight. Anything wrong with me?" Five times! This was all so confusing. All so disorienting. She looked at her friend, who was smiling broadly at her. Kerry's charisma infected her - just as it always did. She shrugged. What the hell. She popped the pill in her mouth and downed it with water. The two girls returned to the dance floor. *** For the first half hour, Lauren felt nothing. She tried to immerse herself in the music, but she couldn't shake the nervousness from the back of her mind. She had done a drug! She had taken E! She was walking over to the bar for a break when it hit her. Suddenly the world felt like it was bouncing. Like she was walking across a trampoline. "Rolling" was the perfect term for the way she felt. She grabbed hold of the bar to steady herself, then realized that the bar, too, seemed to move and dance in her hand. Her moment of vertigo passed quickly, though, and instantly she was aware of the music that pulsed all around her. Her body caught that pulse and she felt the irresistible urge to move along with it. She turned her head, looking out across the dance floor, and was entranced by the lights that flickered down on the crowd. Her brain seemed to melt back into her head, and it felt wonderful. Everything felt wonderful. The lights made her happy. The dancers out there made her happy. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she shivered. She could feel all the little hairs stand up where those fingers brushed. Turning her head, she was greeted by the tall, handsome face of Casey, her best friend in the whole world's awesome boyfriend! "You feel it?" he asked, smiling. She was suddenly aware that he, too, was dancing to the beat. But more subdued than the way she felt. He was so cool. She was so cool, too! She began to pick up her feet, swing her hips. But the two never broke that eye contact. His eyes were too beautiful not to look at, Lauren thought. "Yes! This is awesome!" He reached into his pocket and handed her something. "What's this?" she said, turning it over in her hands. "It's gum. You're going to start to grind your teeth. It'll protect them." "Awww… you are so thoughtful! I'm so happy for you and Kerry." She felt such a deep connection with this guy that she had only spent a few hours with. She felt the urge to give him a hug and did it. He happily returned her hug. "You two are so cute together," Kerry's voice drifted in. They broke their embrace, unashamed, and looked at her. "Can't you just feel that music? Don't you feel so in tune with it?" "Yes," Lauren nodded. Nodding her head felt great. "I feel so good, Kerry! You were so right. I do love this feeling. And I love you." The girls hugged once again. "It's strange… not like what I thought I'd feel. I thought it was going to make me into a sex-hungry animal." They all laughed. "But this feels so different. It's not so much sexual as just… good." She shrugged. "I feel so close to you guys!" "Come on, honey, let's dance," Kerry said, taking hold of her hand and pulling her out onto the dance floor. For the next couple hours, Lauren was rolling high and feeling no pain. She found herself constantly moving to the techno beat. Casey was right, she did feel the urge to grind her teeth together. She chewed that piece of gum until there was no flavor left, and then kept at it. She also felt constantly dried out. The three of them would take turns going to the bathroom to refill their water bottle. At last, the three danced into the backroom bar, where they first met. Lauren still felt the urge to dance and move her body, but now her legs felt like they were planted to the floor. "It's like, my feet are gigantic cinder blocks!" she was explaining. She still felt good, but she could feel the warmth in her body begin to subside. Casey, who was talking to someone else, excused himself and they walked off. Kerry leaned in close to Lauren and whispered, "Would you like another pill?" "Umm… I don't know. I still feel pretty good." "Oh, but it'll be so good. One more, honey. We can do it together." Lauren knew she couldn't say no, and didn't want to. Just then, a handsome gentleman approached the two girls. He was probably in his late twenties with dark, curly hair and side burns. He smiled at the two of them, who smiled right back. He leaned in and said to Kerry, "I was just wondering… do either of you have any E?" Interesting coincidence. Thank God Kerry had the presence of mind to say, "Are you a police officer?" He looked a little nervous and shook his head. "No, I…" he scratched his head, trying to think of the best way to say whatever he wanted to say. He really was nervous, Lauren realized. He looked over his shoulder at a girl who was sitting against the bar, wringing her hands anxiously. She was beautiful, long, straight brown hair. "I'm here with my wife and… we've never done that. We wanted to try." "Is she a police officer?" Kerry asked. He shook his head. "No," he said solemnly. Kerry tapped a slender finger over her ruby red lips. "Hmm… let me see what I can do." And with that, she disappeared, leaving Lauren with this stranger. "Hi, I'm Gordon. It's… it's nice to meet you." "Lauren," the dark haired girl said, offering her hand. She found herself nodding her head to the music and feeling incredibly relaxed and good, even in the awkward silence. "Your wife is very beautiful," she said after a pause. Before the man could thank her, she said, "You're not so bad yourself." "Why thank you," he said, breaking eye contact with her. "Your wife shy?" He nodded. "She's really nervous about doing this." "Why don't you ask her to come over here? I'll try to help her feel at ease." "Susan," he gestured to his beautiful wife. "Why don't you come over here." Susan was terrified at what she was about to do. Not that she was a goody-two- shoes. She drank occasionally, she even smoked a little pot back in college. But Ecstasy seemed so wrong. So out of reach. These feelings couldn't kill her desire to try it, however. Lauren watched as the older woman approached her. She had to admit, Susan was beautiful. She was willowy. Maybe as tall as Kerry, but with a much slighter body. Her breasts were smaller than her friend's, but this fit her runway model like body. And there was a maturity that the shy woman seemed to exude. The tall brunette wore a sparkly skirt that hung just above her knees, and a pair of black, calf-high boots. For a top, she was wearing a tight white blouse. Not really club-wear, but then again, Susan didn't appear to be a club girl. She did her best to put the couple at ease. She explained that this was her own first time trying anything like this and that it was fantastic. Casey came back and took the guy aside. They talked, shook hands, and something was exchanged. "Let's go onto the dance floor. Easier to be more discreet out there, when you take it." The five of them took a pill and made their way back out onto the dance floor. That rolling sensation returned for Lauren, although this time, the feeling wasn't quite so intense. The five of them danced on waves of serotonin late into the night Susan was going through the euphoric awakening that Lauren had undergone earlier in the night. She was so happy to be here. She loved her husband so much and wanted to thank him for setting this all up. She danced close to him, loving the way the musky smell of his sweat mixed with his cologne. "I love you so much, honey. We were so lucky to find each other. There is not a single other person I'd rather be wedded to in the whole world. Not a single person." They kissed on the dance floor, not caring at all what those around them thought. His tongue felt so good. This felt so right. She was so happy to have met these three, wonderful strangers. Especially Lauren. She felt so close to the younger girl. "You remind me of me. We are so much alike!" Susan tried to explain as the two women stood off to the side, taking a water break while the others danced. "I know! Isn't it amazing! It's like we were meant to meet!" Lauren said excitedly, genuine exhilaration reflected in her eyes. "I feel so close to you, I could kiss you!" the taller woman said before she realized what she was saying. The black haired girl put her arm around Susan's waist and said, "Would you like to?" She was smiling and her large eyes were wide and patient. "I couldn't do that!" Susan said. In any other situation, this would have made her extremely uncomfortable. But she really did feel a close connection to Lauren. Like they had been sisters their entire lives, separated as babies. Now, reunited, they felt that connection once again. "I won't tell if you won't," Lauren said, her smile never wavering. "Quick, before the others come over." "Okay, but just a little kiss." She didn't know what was going on or why she was doing it, but she just had to feel this younger woman's lips on hers. She dipped her head down and brought her face within inches of Lauren's. They both laughed, then brushed lips against one another. Lauren's lips were both incredibly soft and incredibly hot. She hadn't expected the girl's lips to feel so good, against hers, and it didn't take much prompting from the other girl to deepen the kiss. Susan felt Lauren's hand on the back of her neck, drawing her closer. They bumped noses and laughed, breaking the kiss. "Did you enjoy that?" Lauren asked. "Because I did." Susan nodded her head. She was short of breath. It felt like someone had laid a brick on her chest and she had to work to draw air. Their eyes locked, pale blue falling into dark brown. An unspoken agreement was made. Their lips came together once again, this time both knew what they wanted. Tongues unfurled, dipping and tasting one another's wet mouths. Susan's heart felt like it was going to burst, each quick pulse firing little shock waves down to her sex. She grew wet. She knew she shouldn't be doing this. She knew that things were progressing into serious water. Lauren pushed her wade of gum into the willowy woman's mouth playfully, and at last they broke their kiss, laughing. "Wow…" was all Susan could say. "Don't mention it," Lauren replied, winking. "Come on, let's dance!" *** The five of them stayed until the club closed at 4. "What now?" Lauren asked, still riding high. "Well, I know of a little post party we could all go to. Kerry knows about these." The blonde's hazel eyes flashed at the mention of the post party. "Sounds like fun," Lauren said, not quite sure how to read her friend's eyes except that it was bound to be a good time. "You two game?" Casey asked the married couple. "Sure," Gordon answered, then looked at his wife for approval. She nodded, her head bobbing and smiling to the last songs of the night club. "Then let's go!" They cabbed out of the city and into Berkley, where the post-party was being held. The five of them were still lit when they got there. "Where are we going to sleep?" Susan asked her husband as they knocked on the door to a ritzy looking house. "Relax," Kerry said. "There are plenty of beds to crash in." She rubbed her hand slowly along Susan's arm, who started to look a little uncomfortable. Lauren nudged her friend, giving her a stern shake of her head. They entered the house, greeted by a sprinkling of people that were lounging around in the kitchen. Subdued drum and bass played in the background, and the lights were dimmed low. The room smelled of pot and cigarettes, a smell that Kerry was getting quickly used to. It occurred to her that maybe her friend might not be ready for this scene. She looked over at the beautiful, trim girl and held out her hand. Lauren took it, and Kerry squeezed it reassuringly as they entered the living room. Dylan, a large, muscled black man wearing a tight, black club shirt, looked over his shoulder and waved at the new crowd. "Casey, Kerry. Glad you could join us!" He then turned back around, leaned over the glass coffee table, and snorted a line of coke, right in front of their eyes. Kerry felt Lauren squeeze her hand. The black haired girl's eyes were as wide as saucers as she took in the whole scene. Usually, this kind of thing was regulated to the bedrooms. It was pretty late, though, and sometimes, when the partiers had fucked enough to emerge from the backrooms, they partied out here. The coffee table was covered in the white, powdery stuff and a beautiful Asian girl was cutting lines of it as they entered. "Hiya, Casey," she said in a light, British accent. "Want me to make you one?" The girl's shiny black hair was clipped back with a jade hairpin and she was wearing her tight leather pants and halter outfit. "No thanks, Lin. I'm good for now." "Your friends then?" she asked, reaching for the tightly rolled hundred from the black man. Kerry said, "I'd like to try." She felt Lauren's stare, but didn't take her eyes off Lin's. "No, baby. Not tonight," Casey said. "I think you should be thinking straight the first time you try that stuff." "She can think for herself," the beautiful Asian said, snorting up the line she'd just made for herself. She tipped her head back, eyes closed, and swallowed hard. When her eyes opened, they were swimming. "Kerry's a big girl. Come on, sweetheart, take a seat next to me." The blonde knelt down beside Lin and looked at the pile of blow before her. Lin began to cut her a line when Casey said, "No, Lin. I said not tonight!" He was firm without raising his voice, but everyone in the room knew that he had put his foot down. The Asian put her hand around Kerry's shoulder and swayed with her a little. "Too bad, not tonight." The women looked at each other. "My room's open if you want to… be happy in other ways." "Like what do you mean?" the sandy blonde asked innocently. "Oh, you tease," Lin said, bringing her lips to Kerry's. She wrapped her hand around the back of Kerry's neck, drawing her closer. Their lips parted, heads tilting as they sucked and played with each others tongues. Susan felt like she was about to hyperventilate. Her breathing became ragged. She felt overheated. She began to see pin pricks at the edges of her vision. They were blotting out the light. Her field of vision narrowed. She felt weak in the knees. These people were doing drugs so casually. These two girls were doing something that, while she had just done it, still turned her stomach. This was too much. Too much. "Bring her this way," she heard someone say. The voice was distant. Hollow. Lauren was feeling a little queasy as well, the feelings of the Ecstasy dimming. What was happening to her friend? What world had she gotten herself into? She followed Casey and the couple, giving one last, wistful look back at her best friend, who was now laying on her back, the Asian woman straddling her, their faces still together in a passionate lip-lock. Casey led the three of them up to what looked like the master bedroom. "Put her down on the bed," he said, opening a window to let in fresh air. "She'll be fine. She just needs to relax a little. Gordon, rub her shoulders. It feels great when you're rolling and it'll take her mind off other things." Gordon did what Kerry's boyfriend told him to. Casey crouched down between Susan's legs, took her hands in his, and gently massaged her finger tips. "Hey," he said gently. "Susan. Hey, look at me." Susan lifted her lolling head up enough to look into Casey's eyes. "Do you feel your husband's hands on your back? Doesn't that feel wonderful? I want you to concentrate on that feeling. Close your eyes and just feel." Her eyes flashed fear one last time, then she closed them. She was very beautiful, Casey thought as he stared at her. She was wearing maybe a little too much mascara, but who at Shelter didn't? He realized that it was a mistake to bring all the newbies here as soon as they walked into the living room. His friends were a nice enough bunch, but his subculture was sometimes a bit shocking. He glanced across the room to where Lauren was sitting. She had one of the most amazing, compact bodies that he'd seen in a while. He wondered if Kerry would mind if something happened between Lauren and himself. She'd most likely act like she was cool with it, but occasionally, he got a sense that the girl wasn't as secure as she liked to make out to be. He knew that it was just a symptom of the drug, but he felt so connected with all the people in this room. He looked over Susan's shoulder at Gordon and thought about what a good couple the two of them made. They were a very pretty couple, suited best for country clubs and fancy restaurants. Not his world. They were tourists here, but then again, Casey always liked being the tour guide. Susan's eyes were open now and they were regarding this sexy, bald guy before here. His tattoos marked him out as the type of man that she wasn't usually attracted to, and his lifestyle was so wrong… She closed her legs, feeling the warmth that started to radiate between them at all the dirty thoughts she was having. Her husband's hands felt so good they were making her horny, but she needed more. Her eyes locked onto Casey's. A million things were passed between the two of them. She glanced over at Lauren. So beautiful. So young. Then back at Casey. She felt closer to these strangers than anyone she'd ever known. They had shared something. An experience. A night. And goddamn, she didn't want that night to end just yet. Casey's lips met Susan's. She felt the tickle of his goatee on her soft skin, the musk of his body that had spent the night dancing. Their tongues slid easily into place next to one another, pulling and pushing back and forth. The kiss felt wonderful. She tasted every molecule of this other man's mouth - the first mouth she'd kissed since she'd starting seeing Gordon so many years ago. The first male mouth, she thought, feeling the heat rise on her cheeks. She tasted the bitterness of his cigarettes and his strong, whiskey drinks. She tasted something sweeter on his tongue. She slid her tongue across his teeth, marveling in their slippery smoothness. She cradled his head in her hands, dove deeper. She needed more. More. Gordon didn't know what to do. He watched his wife make-out with another man right in front of him, and all he could do was keep massaging her shoulders. His heart sped up, his eyes bugged out, but strangely, he did not feel upset. His stomach turned, yet he did not get angry. A far more primal urge overwhelmed those rational emotions. He felt lust. He moved his hands off her shoulders, under her arms and down along her side. He was as surprised as anyone when he felt his fingers start to pop the buttons of her blouse. He needed to feel her bare skin against his fingers. He needed to cup her supple breasts in his hands. Lauren was shocked at what was transpiring before her. She watched in stunned fascination as the men undressed the willowy woman with the soft brown hair. Her skin was lightly bronzed, slight tan lines around her breasts. Her nipples were round and hard, somewhere between light brown and pink. Casey sucked one into his mouth, and Lauren found herself licking her lips subconsciously. Her hands moved of their own volition, slipping down along the outside of her crotch. She could feel the heat of her pussy through her trousers. She knew it wouldn't be long before she was as naked as Susan. Casey slid his hands along Susan's thighs, pushing her sparkly skirt up as they went. The tangy smell of her arousal was strong in his nose. He loved it. He loved this night. He felt great and wanted this beautiful brunette before him to feel great as well. She had on a small silver thong, damp with her leaking juices. Casey reached up and pushed the thong to the side, revealing two beautiful pussy lips, plump and clean shaven, parted enough to hint at treasures inside. He stroked her a couple times before pulling off her thong, giving him full access to her pussy. Her fingers eagerly helped him remove the skimpy underwear, hiking her skirt up all the way around her slender hips. To his disappointment, she wasn't completely bald but kept an inverted triangle above those glistening folds, trimmed and meticulously groomed. Susan shut her eyes hard as she felt these two men caress her soft body. Her husband's hands were gentle over her perky breasts, familiar yet still highly intoxicating. Casey's hands were more demanding than her husband's, more forceful. In his hands, she felt like she was losing control and she loved it. His hands pulled the gusset of her thong - the thong that only her husband was ever meant to see - and tasted her freshly shaven cunt lips - the lips that only her husband had ever tasted. When he went to pull her panties off, Susan's body reacted in the only way it allowed: she helped him tear the confining things off. Eyes still shut, she held her breath in anticipation of Casey's returning lips. When the feel of his warm, flat tongue didn't come, she began to open her eyes in protest when she felt a different sensation against the engorged mouth of her pussy. The smooth, bulbous head of a cock. "Ngh!!" she gasped as Casey pushed into her cunt. "AH! AHHHHH!!" It was all so wrong. It was all so big! She felt every nerve ending sigh as this strange penis slipped into her, stretching her, fucking her. "OH, GOD!" she screamed, cumming for the first time that evening. "OH, GOD! OHGODOHGOD!! OHHHHH!!!" When the stars of her orgasm cleared, Casey was still with her, his thick cock dipping in and out of her married vagina. Her heart felt like it was on fire. Her breathing came labored and uneven. She felt her body preparing itself for another orgasm, practically on the heels of the last. Gordon's hands were still on her breasts, the familiar thumbs caressing her nipples. He felt his tongue on her neck, on her ears. So much stimulation. So much pleasure. "You are so hot, baby," he whispered into her ear, his voice with growling with lust. "Let go, baby. I want to see you completely let go." His hands squeezed her breasts harder, his teeth nipped painfully at her ear. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" she panted, feeling the world slip out from under her feet. Casey was a pull between her legs, fucking her hard enough to cause her entire body to shudder with each thrust. Her pussy steamed. "YES! YES! THERE! OHHH!!" Her husband's hands pinched her nipples, twisting them violently. "AH! AHHHHHH!!!" Her body shuddered, muscles clenching then releasing as she came and came and came. Lauren brought herself to her own orgasm, her tight slacks unbuttoned, her fingers furiously diving into the smooth lips of her pussy. The sight before her - a live porno - was just as overwhelming as the sight downstairs with all the drugs. There was just as much excess in this room as there was spread all over the coffee table, only here, the young brunette handled it in a much different way. She felt like a little girl, looking in on something that she knew was wrong. That she knew she shouldn't be witnessing. Yet the urge to get herself off was too great to resist. Somewhere in the haze of her orgasm, as she watched the three players in front of her rearrange themselves, Lauren knew that she had to get out of there or else get sucked in. She imagined herself in the middle of the bed, lapping at the beautiful, cum-filled pussy of the other woman as one man drilled her young pussy, the other getting his dick polished in the older woman's eager mouth. Casey, who was saving his cum for Susan's third orgasm, directed her onto all fours on the bed, thrusting into her well-lubricated pussy from behind. He grabbed her long brown hair, pulling her head to his and saying, "Suck your husband off. You swallow, right?" She nodded her head quickly. "Good girl. I want you to eat his spunk. Only then will your little cunt feel mine. Understand, slut?" Again, that short nod before he released her. Lauren began to rim her pussy once again as she watched the men take Susan. Gone was the sophisticated model she'd met at Shelter. The woman with a cock in either end of her long and lean body could easily be her before the night was over, and the thought scared the young girl. Something Susan said earlier returned to her: "You remind me of me. We are so much alike!" Lauren fought to stand. Still, desire and lust fought for her to stay. To watch. To continue thumbing her clit. She bit her lip as she felt her second orgasm begin to build. Susan

was jacking her husband's cock off as she sucked it into her mouth, her body sliding back and forth between the two. She'd push back against Corey's cock as she pulled her husband's from her mouth, then she'd swallow her husband's as Corey's pulled free. Lauren knew that if she let herself cum, she'd soon be getting her first taste of group sex. It took all her willpower to stand up and button her pants, but she did it. Her legs felt like silly putty and she had to clutch the chair for support. She still felt good from the E, still felt so alive. But the more rational parts of her brain were screaming, "Get out! Get out!" and at last, she was able to stand and walk out the door. The living room was dark and quiet, the drugs cleaned up as all the users retired to the bedrooms to fuck and be happy. The night air felt good against her body, warm yet crisp and she sucked in the dewy smell of the imminent dawn. Everyday was a new day, with new challenges, new problems, and new discoveries. Looking back at the house, she thought about all the new discoveries that she had made the previous day, and hoped that all her new problems wouldn't carry over. _This was written for a good friend of mine... you know who you are!_ * John, I can't believe I'm laying in bed with you now. Cuddled up to your chest, listening to you breath as you sleep so peacefully. This is actually the first time I have been with you, ever, but I feel like I've been here for so long. I can remember when we met online. I used to post stories and poems on a website. You read them and sent me an email telling me how much you liked them. That was two years ago and now I'm laying in bed with you. After you sent me the email we started to talk. At first we just sent each other a few emails. You seemed like such a nice guy that I had to get your screen name so that we could talk through an instant messenger. We talked almost everyday. We told each other about ourselves and our lives. You were twenty-two and a comedian. I also remember the first picture you sent me. You were very handsome, in my opinion, hot. Around six feet four inches, which is a lot compared to my five feet three inches. You had gorgeous eyes, that's the physical feature that attracted me to you first. Your hair was short and dark blonde to light brown. I thought you were so handsome. It's no stretch to say that I was attracted to you from the beginning. We always talked after one of your sets and you'd tell me the jokes you had told that night. I know that I thought you were a pretty funny guy. I always talked about maybe going to see one of your shows some day but I figured that probably wouldn't happen considering that you lived in Canada and I lived in the southern United States. That's a pretty long way to go just to see a show. Every day that I didn't get to talk to you, I missed it. It was just so nice to be able to talk to someone that I got along with so well. After a couple of months of talking online we decided that it would be nice to actually hear each others voices. So we started calling each other. True it was long distance but it was worth it to be able to talk to you. The first time I called I was really nervous. So far our online conversations were great but I didn't want to screw it up by saying something stupid. I dialed your number and my pulse raced while I waited for you to answer. My heart skipped a beat the first time I heard you say hello. Not only were you hot but you had a voice to match. You started joking around right off the bat which helped me relax a bit more. Before our first phone conversation was over we were talking freely and laughing together. So of course our first conversation went well and many many more followed. Then something happened that I don't think either one of us had really planned on. We had phone sex. It wasn't something that either of us asked the other to do, it just happened. Now this was definitely something I had never done before and as we talked I really got into it. I laid back on my bed rubbing my clit and finger fucking myself while I listened to you tell me about all of the things that you wanted to do to me. I started to moan into the phone as I got closer to cuming. Then I grabbed my vibrator, fucking myself with it and imagining it was your cock. It didn't take long after that for me to start to cum. I screamed into the phone as my orgasm shot through me. I could hear that your breathing had changed, you were close to cuming and I wanted to hear it. I started to fuck myself again while I told you about everything I wanted to do. How I wanted so badly to suck on your cock and fuck you. I told you every position I wanted with you. I rubbed my breasts and as you started to cum and I screamed out in my own orgasm again. Although I had never done this before, it didn't take me long to get used to it. We talked on the phone together for hours and not every one, but most of our conversations ended with phone sex. I promise you though, I loved it every time. We've been talking for so long that it's hard to really think back on exactly how long it's been. I feel like I've known you forever. You know so much about me, you understand me like no else does. I haven't been here with you for no more than a day but I feel like I could stay here forever with you. I can remember how nervous I was the first time we talked seriously about meeting each other. Even as I called the airline and made my reservations I was nervous. I thought to myself, "What if I fly all the way up there and he doesn't meet me at the airport?", or "What if I get up there and he's not the guy I expected, then what would I do? He could be psychotic for all I know". Obviously I am here with you now and I know that you are no psycho, but I have to admit I was kinda scared. Even when while I sat at the airport waiting to board my plane I thought about leaving. Do you know what kept me from running home? I thought about every conversation we had, all the instant messaging, all the phone calls, and I thought about how much I actually started to care about you over the past few years and the good definitely out weighed the bad. Even if I wound up being disappointed how could I pass up the chance to come and see for myself. I'm so glad that I came here. The entire plane ride was a big blur, I didn't notice any of the people around me, instead my thoughts were on you. I thought about what I would say or do after I got off of the plane and saw you. I went over a few lines in my head. All I knew is that I wanted the first time we were together to be perfect and I didn't want to screw it up by being too quiet or talking too much, for that matter. I have a habit of doing that when I'm nervous. I had no clue what to expect as I got off of the plane and walked through the terminal to meet you. For the second time since we had started talking my heart skipped a beat. I saw you waiting for me with a huge, goofy, grin on your face. Almost instantly, every fear I had went away when I ran to greet and hug you. I don't think I've ever hugged someone so tightly. You hugged me back and when I raised my head to look at you, you kissed me. At that point I almost melted in your arms. I thought it was really sweet of you to carry my things for me, you're such a gentleman. When we got to your apartment I was nervous all over again. I wanted to drop everything that was in my hands and wrap my arms around you but I was just too nervous to do it. You led me in and closed the door, before I had a chance to say a word, your arms were around my waist and you were pulling me in for a kiss. I let my body relax as I kissed you back. My body shivered as I felt your hands roam up and down my body. I could feel how much you wanted me and the feelings where mutual. I wanted you just as badly. Not sure of what to do, I followed your lead as you started to remove my clothing. I stepped back to help you pull my shirt over my head. There was hardly a second between the time that you got my shirt off to the time your hands moved down to my pants. You fumbled around with the buttons for a few minutes before I grabbed your hands and told you to relax and go slow, we have so much time. I saw the most handsome smile come over your face as your hands moved up my chest to my cheeks and you kissed me. Never in my life have I felt a kiss more passionate. I wrapped my arms around you and held you tight wanting that moment to last forever. Then, you broke our kiss and took me by the hand, you kissed it and then led me to your bedroom. The lights in the room were dim and you led me to the bed. You told me to sit and relax, that you would be back very soon. I laid back on the bed and almost fell asleep, it was so comfortable. I watched you head toward your bathroom and I listened. I heard the water turn on and your close fall to the floor. I took this opportunity to rush back into the living room and grab one of my bags. I brought in back into the room and waited, you were still in the bathroom so I figured that I had time. I opened my bag and pulled out a brand new white lace chemise that I had bought especially for you. The tags were even still on it. I took off the rest of my clothing and slid into the chemise. I brought my bag over to your dresser where your mirror was and pulled out my hair brush and some make-up. I wanted to be sure that I looked really good for you. I finished just in time to hear you turn off the shower. I put my bag onto the floor and raced back to the bed. I sat down just in time to see you walk into the room, towel tied around your waist. Your facial expression was so funny when you had to do a double take because you realized that I had changed. You walked over to me and pulled me slowly up to my feet. You kissed me hard and told me how beautiful you thought I looked. I wrapped my arms around you, and you grabbed me by the back of my thighs and lifted me into the air. I swung my legs around you and kissed you once more, our tongues danced together for what seemed like eternity. When we broke our kiss I put my feet back down on the floor. We looked into each others eyes, hands roaming wildly over our bodies, getting aquatinted with every inch of each other. I could feel your already hard-cock pressing against me. I hooked my fingers into your towel and yanked it away. You looked at me as if you didn't know what else to expect and I slowly started to lower myself to the floor. I ran my fingers over the head of your cock and gently teased your balls with my hands. Looking up at your face, I could tell what you wanted and I wrapped my fingers around the shaft. I adjusted my gaze back to your cock and I could feel it throbbing in my hand. I squeezed just a little harder around it before I brought my lips to your head. I felt you tense when I slid you into my mouth. I placed one of my hands on your balls and I wrapped the other one around you, touching your ass, bringing you closer to me. I looked up at you as I moved my head faster up and down the shaft of your cock, your head was back and your eyes were closed, I could tell that you where really enjoying this. Without any warning and without taking my eyes off of you, I quickly slid you cock all the way into my mouth letting it slide down my throat. I saw your eyes pop open and immediately felt your hand slam onto the back off my head, holding my face on you. I fought back the urge to gag and finally got used to the feeling of you cock in my throat. Then I started to swirl my tongue around it as best I could. I felt your balls start to tighten up and you told me that you were ready to cum. I pulled my head back off of you quickly and stood up to kiss you. You looked as if someone had ran over your dog, I know couldn't believe that I had gotten you so close and then stopped. But I had different plans for you. I felt your hands run over my shoulders as we kissed. Slowly hooking your fingers into the straps of my chemise, you started to take it off of me. Finally we were standing naked together, we stared at each others bodies thinking of all the things we wanted to do. Once again you took me by the hands and lead me to your bed. You laid me back and then got to your knees. Right then I knew exactly what you were going to do and I arched my hips up to you hoping that you would take my hint. That only let you know that you would succeed in teasing me. I moaned when I felt you press my hips back down onto the bed, you held me there while your lips kissed around my belly button. I was so excited when I felt your strong hands start to spread my legs apart as you kissed up my thighs towards my pussy. I reached down to place my hands on your head but you grabbed them before I could. You held my hands to the side as I struggled to touch you. All I wanted was to feel your tongue on my clit. You held my hands still until I finally relaxed again and then you told me not to move. I felt your hands move back to my thighs and then to my pussy, slowly spreading my lips. My eyes rolled when I felt your hot breath on my skin. I listened to what you said and I tried not to move although I still begged for you to just take me. I know that nothing makes you happier than to know that you are teasing me. You looked up at me with a wicked smile on your face before finally diving in to suck, lick, and nibble on my clit. I couldn't control my body anymore, my hips were thrashing around as you teased me with your tongue feeling that my orgasm was close you suddenly stopped your attack on my clit and slid your tongue inside my pussy. As soon as you entered me I lost all the control I had left over myself and I grabbed the back of your end pressing it hard into myself until my orgasm subsided. When I loosened my grip on your head you looked up at me, smiling, with the same cute, goofy, look you had on your face when I first met you at the airport, I could see my juices glistening in your gotee. You climbed up onto the bed and laid next to me, allowing me to take a moment and gather back my composure. You teeth lightly raked across my earlobe and you kissed at my neck while we lay there When I got my strength back again, I turned and kissed you deeply tasting myself on your tongue. I climbed on top of you letting my wet pussy rest just above your cock. You hands moved to my hips in an attempt to lower me onto you. I lifted my hips higher and moved them further away from your cock. You moaned in disapproval when I moved my pussy onto your abdomen and leaned down to kiss you. I knew exactly what you wanted but first I wanted to drive you crazy. I leaned down kissing your lips and then moving to your ears, lightly nibbling at them. Then down to your neck because I know how sensitive that spot is for you. I felt your cock grow even harder as I sucked on your neck and it brushed against my ass. While I kissed you I started to lift my pussy again, back down toward your hard cock. I reached a hand between us and grabbed the base of your cock, holding it up straight so that I could lower myself onto it. You moaned when you felt the tip of your cock slide into me. I held myself there while I looked into your eyes. I asked you what you wanted and you placed your hands on my hips and said that it was me you wanted. With that I slammed my wet pussy down onto you hard. In seconds your balls were pressed up against my ass. I held myself there for a moment letting both of us get used to the incredible sensation of you being so deep inside of me. Slowly I started to bounce up and down on you, sliding from the base of it, to the tip and then hard back down again. Your hands squeezed at my ass and I started to move faster. I could feel my ass slapping against your balls. Soon we were moving together your hips arching up to meet me with every bounce. Sweat poured from our bodies as our chests rubbed together. For the second time I felt my orgasm rising. I sat up on your cock and really started to ride you. Your right hand moved down to my pussy and you rubbed my clit with your thumb, sending me over the edge, a stream of obscenities poured from my lips while I fucked you as hard as I could. I barely had a second after cumming before you flipped me over. Now I was on my back and you were on top of me, pounding away at my pussy. I wrapped my legs around your ass tight in an effort to pull you deeper inside of me although I don't honestly know if being any deeper inside of me was even possible. Beads of sweat poured from your forehead while you fucked me with short, fast strokes. I heard you begin to moan and I knew that you couldn't hold back much longer. Not even a minute later you were fucking me furiously, you asked me where I wanted you to cum and I told you that you could cum whenever or where ever you wanted. You pumped at me harder and soon I felt you cock start to throb inside of me, I felt you cock start to release load after load of your cum inside of me. I held you close while you came until you finally fell limp on top of me, your lips resting on my forehead. You rolled off and laid next to me and I laid my head on top of you. It didn't take long for both of us to fall asleep in each other's arm. I woke up before you and it has given me the opportunity to write you this letter. Now I know that so far everything that I have written is stuff that you already know but you can just consider this something to look back on when I'm gone because, let's face it, as much as we may not like it, I am going to have to go home again soon. I just wanted to be able to leave you something to remember our first night together. I'm so happy to be laying here with you and I hope that the rest of this week is just as great. Love, Christina * _READERS: Please don't forget to vote, and if you've liked this story, or any of my other stories for that matter, feel free to send me some feedback!_

I was thrilled when I received the admission letter from the local university in Singapore for a bachelor’s degree in arts. The first day at the University was really hectic, as there was a lot of paper work to be completed. I reported to the Graduate Students Office in the morning to submit my papers and get my relevant papers for the term. I was told by one of the clerk to wait until the Graduate Students Officer who was in-charge of my papers called me. I waited for a few minutes and I was called promptly. I stepped into the officer’s office room and was greeted cheerfully. She introduced herself as Ms Harlina and offered me a seat until she had checked all my papers. She was a real beauty and a hottie and I immediately fell in love with her. From my guess Harlina was about 35 to 37 years old and she was a Singapore Malay woman. She was beautiful, sexy, hot and horny. I couldn’t resist myself from looking at her all the time. She had the traditional Malay dress called the Baju Kurung and a headscarf called the Tudung. The color of the dress was pink with multicolored floral patterns and the Tudung was also of matching pink. The only part of her body that was visible was her face and her fingers while all others were covered with the Baju Kurung. Harlina had a sexy face with sort of sleepy eyes, sharp nose and high cheeks. Her lips were thick and when she smiled they elastically stretched to her ears. Her full smile that showed all of her well-set teeth was just enough to make a limp cock jump to its full erection. Her skin was not tanned but pink. Her sexy and beautiful face had a few reddish blemishes near her cheeks and these made her face look even sexy. It appeared to me that this sexy Singapore Malay hottie had her face bleached, as it was spotless except for the pink blemishes. Harlina’s skin was extremely pink in color and I wondered how she would look when she is fully nude. She had a perfect body to trot. Most of the Singapore Malay women are bulky with big boobs and big butts. Harlina was an exception to that generalization. She was slim with perfect boobs and a perfect tight butt that was neither small nor big. She was a real beauty and a hottie. To top up her figure was her voice. Her voice was husky that sounded very erotic. I felt that I should enjoy every inch of Harlina’s sweet and sexy body and fuck her thoroughly. I could not control my hard-on and I kept admiring this Singapore Malay hottie with lust, as she was busy preparing my term papers. I spoke to her often and she reciprocated always with that big smile that turned me on again and again. That night at home I hugged my pillow imagining it to be Harlina and rubbed my hard rock cock on it. I jerked a few times that night fantasying her to my dreams. I imagined how her pussy would be; hairy, shaved or trimmed and the thought of it made be harder and hotter. I frequented the Students Affairs Office to have a glimpse of Harlina and her full sexy smile. Soon she came to remember me by my name and would give that sexy smile whenever we would meet each other in the campus. It was one fine Saturday afternoon and people were going home after work. It was 2 p.m. and it started to drizzle. I had an application to access the library facilities that required a signature from Harlina who was my Graduate Students Officer. I rushed to the 5th floor of administration building where her office was. The whole floor was empty but luckily there was light inside Harlina’s office. The door was partly closed leaving a small crack. I peeped in to see if my sexy Singapore Malay beauty was there. Yeah she was there facing the computer and her back was towards me. To my surprise Harlina was surfing the porn-sites on the web. With a soft knock on the door I entered the room and Harlina turned around. When she did this she accidentally enlarged the nude photo that she had been admiring all this while. It was of a big muscular guy who had his cock in his cock and was about to enter a blonde woman from behind. Harlina did not know what to do and just blurted. I told her that was normal and told her that I would show her some better sites. Initially she was quite and reluctant but gave it up soon. “You are sexy and hot today Harlina,” I told her and touched her shoulders. “Thanks,” she smiled. Harlina was in her blue Baju Kurung and Tudung. The Baju Kurung had beautiful small tulip flowers patterned all over it. It was like Harlina wearing a tulip garden around herself. I stood behind her and touched her shoulders and Harlina did not protest at all. I slowly began to massage her shoulders with my fingers and she let out a soft moan. I told her the different websites where she can find lot of porno and she moved the mouse to get into them. “Hmmm…these sites are really hot,” she said softly. It was obvious that Harlina is a hot woman and loves hot sex like most of the Singapore Malay women. I figured out that Harlina would be a willing and wild partner in bed. The Singapore Malay women are known for this. I massaged her shoulders and moved from her neck to her arms and followed it back. Harlina moaned softly and I loved her perfect erotic voice. My thumbs moved around the nape of her neck and all over her shoulders. Her dress was of silk material and my hands slipped a few times. I bent down and kissed her head over her Tudung and her natural feminine fragrance turned me on. Without her approval I released the clip that held her Tudung and took it off her head. This sexy Malay beauty had black long hair that was neatly bunched up into a round bun. This was the first time that I saw Harlina without a headscarf and she was absolutely stunning. “What did you do,” she protested sweetly. I moved my hands over her neck and below her chin and gently massaged the whole area. Deftly my fingers then moved over to her sexy and adorable face. I made circular motions all over her cheeks with my thumbs and then grabbed them using all of my fingers. I circled over her thick lips, nose, eyes, forehead and finally her ear lobes. Harlina tilted her head back and rested on the chair. I massaged her face gently running my fingers over her cheeks and the sexy reddish blemishes on her cheeks. My fingers rubbed over her thick lips when Harlina opened her mouth and tried to suck them in. This sexy Singapore Malay beauty gave in without protest and I wanted to enjoy my darling Harlina to the fullest. She was such a wonderful heartthrob whom I loved to fuck all the time. Harlina was a damn intoxicating Singapore Malay beauty. I moved my hands over to her shoulders again and to her slender arms. I squeezed both of her arms together and she let out a sharp moan. “You should be awfully horny aren’t you my darling Harlina?” I asked her massaging her shoulders. “No, not really,” she quipped. “Be honest dear, you have been surfing the pornsites, I saw that,” I told her. Harlina gave that full sexy smile again and said, “Yes I was horny today because Jacqueline Koh turned me on this morning with some hot stories”. “Ah…Ha…Jacqueline turned you on…,” I said and rolled my fingers in her earlobes and kindled her horny feeling even more. I remembered Jacqueline Koh who worked in the finance department of the university. She was a Singapore Chinese woman in her late 30s. She had a voluptuous figure with big boobs and a jutting big butt. These were quite unusual for a local Chinese woman. Her face was pretty with thin lips, big eyes, and a beautiful smile. I rolled my fingers all over Harlina’s face caressing her cheeks and her earlobes. The beautiful Singapore Malay woman reeled under the renewed pleasure that my fingers worked out. Her skin was soft and supple and my fingers rolled around her luscious lips and I held her lower lip between my fingers and pulled it out. Harlina let out a soft moan. I did not want to enjoy this sexy Singapore Malay in her office and I suggested that we go her house. Harlina was a precious beauty who required special attention and I did not want to fuck this beauty very quickly in her office. After a few minutes of thoughts she agreed that we go to her house. Soon we were in my car and I drove to her condominium in Amber Gardens. Her apartment was beautiful and posh. I told her that I wanted to continue what I had been doing to her at her office and she immediately sat down on couch. I turned on the music to a low volume and began massing her shoulders. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back put it on the couch rest. I did not want to hurry with anything but decided to take my time in enjoying this intoxicating Singapore Malay beauty completely. My lips urged me to endlessly kiss Harlina’s luscious lips but I wanted to make her really hot before my lips touched her soft skin. Slowly I unbuttoned her Baju Kurung up to her waist and pushed it off her shoulders. Harlina wore a lacey front open bra. The dark fabric was a sharp contrast to her pink skin and it attenuated her fairness. Her perfect round breasts nested like pigeons in the cups of her black bra. Harlina’s skin was great and spotless. My fingers quickly rolled over her bare shoulders and cupped her breasts that were still nested in the lacey fabric. Her breasts were warm and the warmth of my hands electrified Harlina and she let out a loud moan. Her breasts began to bulge in my hands and I unhooked the bra to release her breasts. Harlina’s breasts were perfect and tight. The skin was pink and the large areolas were pink too. Her pinkish nipples were short but thick and jutted out from the center of the areolas like mini antennas. I cupped each of her breasts in my open palm and squeezed them until Harlina moaned softly with her erotic husky voice. I could feel her skin and it was smooth as silk. I pressed her breasts against her chest and moved them in circles when her hands joined mine. Harlina placed her hands on mine and asked me to massage her breasts. The warmth of my hands made her perfect breasts to bulge even more. Harlina reeled under sheer ecstasy and her pink nipples became harder and stiffer in my hands. I held her nipples between my fingers and pulled them outward. Harlina’s luscious breasts elongated to a balloon and became red due to the new sensation. She was such a horny Malay beauty who deserved a perfect lovemaking and I was just doing what she wanted the most. I rolled her nipples between my fingers until they got hard as a bone. Harlina threw her head back on the backrest of the couch and moaned loudly as my hands were working magic on her sensitive breasts. Holding her breasts with my hands I pressed them together and made her jump up in waves of sheer pleasure. Her voice and her beautiful horny face turned me on beyond control and I decided that I kiss this horny Singapore Malay beauty finally. I moved over and stood in front of her and unbuttoned the remaining buttons on her Baju Kurung. The long outer gown slipped off her body lazily and Harlina was now naked above her waist. All she had was her petticoat like outfit that formed the other piece of the Baju Kurung and her panties. I knelt down beside her and pulled down the zip and the petticoat smoothly slides down her silky legs. Harlina was like a perfectly sculpted marble statue. Her skin was smooth and pink and spotless. Her legs were long and silky and devoid of hair. Her black panties made her skin look even radiant and sexy. I did not want to pull down her panties immediately and enjoy her pussy; I wanted to start from her sexy lips and her horny face. I held her hand and she rose from the couch with laziness. Holding her slender waist we moved to her bedroom. We stood facing each other and her nostrils flared with hot breath, which indicated how hot and horny Harlina was. Her breasts were now bigger and her nipples stood very erect and hard. In front of me was this Singapore Malay beauty that I have been fantasying for months. The first day when I saw her at her office she was fully covered except for her face with the Baju Kurung. The same horny looking Harlina was in front of me almost naked with only her panties that covered her love holes. I had been waiting for this day and never thought that my darling Harlina will be so willing and ready for a nice hot fuck. I held her face with my hands and brought it close to my face. Harlina’s natural feminine fragrance was a big turn on and I immediately placed my lips on hers for a nice and lasting French kiss. I circled her neck and pulled her very close to me and she opened her mouth and kissed me hungrily running her lips all over mine. We both moaned and I over powered her and held her upper thick lip with mine and suck it into my mouth. My tongue licked all over it and moved over to her lower lip. Harlina opened her mouth and my tongue darted into her mouth like an arrow and found her tongue that had been waiting for mine. We slowly licked each other’s tongue for a while making the saliva splash all over out faces. I held her tongue in my lips and sucked it like a candy ice. My tongue rolled all over Harlina’s mouth licking every nook and corner…all over her gums…and all over her teeth. I swiped my tongue over her teeth and then her gums and then the inner walls. Harlina’s saliva was sweet as nectar and wondered how would her pussy cream be. I was sure that it would be much sweeter than the finest honey on this earth. It was all stored in her luscious pussy and my tongue showed its urgency in tasting that. Having completely licked and explored her mouth I wriggled my tongue out of Harlina’s mouth and rolled it all over her rosy cheeks that had a few blemishes. The blemishes were hard and were on her cheeks. These little bumps gave her face the horny look and my sweet Harlina would not look better without these. I licked all over her face running my tongue over her nose, eyes, forehead and chin covering them with my saliva. Harlina’s beautiful face glistened like a shiny metal in the wetness of my tongue. Hungrily I licked all over her face again and again and moved over to her lips again to drink her sweet nectar. To stimulate my sexy Singapore Malay darling, I rolled and swirled my tongue in her ear lobes and she let out a loud moan that turned me on again. I kissed Harlina’s ears and gently nibbled her ear lobes and this further intensified the fire of lust deep that had been burning deep inside her. As we had been locked tight in our kiss, Harlina unbuttoned my shirt and rubbed my chest with her hands. She grabbed my chest and pulled my small nipples sending goose bumps all over my hard body. Hurriedly she unbuckled my trouser and tried to force her hand into my underwear to grab my cock. The Singapore Malay women are known for their admiration for big dicks and Harlina was no exception to that. From the hurriedness that her hands showed I was pretty sure that she loved big and hard dicks. I did not want to give that at once to my beautiful Malay darling; I wanted her to beg for my 10-inche cock desperately and it will all be hers after that. I held her hands and pulled them up to my chest and denied access to my throbbing cock that waited to be released. “My darling Harlina, you have to wait for that…,” I said to her and kissed her lips again. “HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!” Harlina moaned loudly and the intensity of her erotic voice went higher and higher. Her lips tasted sweet and we continued to kiss while I moved my hand down to her beautiful breasts. I cupped them and kneaded her nipples in small circular motion and pulled the hard nipples. I broke my long and wet kiss and trailed down my wet tongue to her breasts through her neck. As my mouth cupped her erect nipples Harlina’s nipples began to bulge out like a balloon. I moved her to the bed and she dropped on it with a thud giving me full access to her wonderful body. I sucked in her nipples and teased with my tongue. The extremely sensitive nipples made Harlina to buck her hips up and let out a sharp cry. I opened my mouth fully and tried to take in her breast. I sucked on her lovely breast and her nipples and alternated between them. Harlina pressed my head over her breasts and forced them in my mouth. “Oh! Yeah! Suck it baby!” Harlina cooed as my tongue moved all over her sensitive breasts. Having feasted on this sexy Singapore Malay woman’s luscious jugs I moved down to her belly. The moment my tongue flicked around her round navel, Harlina jumped up in sheer ecstasy. I kissed her flat belly and licked her hips. The juicy hips were awesome and I took my time to enjoy my darling Harlina to every inch. As I moved down to her silky smooth thighs, I noticed that her panties were moist between them. Our long foreplay had made Harlina’s pussy to ooze its nectar. My tongue roamed over her thighs and she lifted her legs up. “Take off my panties,” she said in her erotic husky voice. “Not now, my darling Harlina! There is time for that,” I told her and went on licking her smooth thighs. Harlina was a real beauty as I had mentioned a couple of times. Her legs were long and smooth. It appeared that her whole body was made of gold. I licked her smooth thighs all the way down to her ankles. I lifted her leg up and kissed her ankles and finally licked it. I then rolled my tongue down to her heels and planted a hard kiss. Harlina still had her black low-heel leather sandals. The dark color made her look extremely sexy and I did not want to remove her sandals off her feet. Harlina also had a thin gold anklet around her ankles. This along with her sandals and her smooth skin was something that I could not resist. Harlina closed on her legs and moved her thighs together as she was building up a huge load of orgasm. Her sexy and horny face had become even sexier and I wanted to kiss those awesome lips. I moved my tongue over her sweet body until my lips met hers and we kissed hungrily for a long time. I moved my lips again over her hot body down to her pubic mound and kissed on her crotch. The smell of dampness of her panties was erotic and a good turn on. I clenched the elastic rim of her black panties with my teeth and pulled it down over her silky legs. My dear darling Harlina was totally naked now. A few months ago when I first saw her, I craved to see her whole body and today she is naked without a piece of clothing on her body. The sexy Singapore Malay woman who was at the Students Affairs Office of the university and whom I had fantasized all day and all night was now lying naked in front of me. Had she not been married, I would have married her and fuck her all the time. Harlina was an intoxicating and horny looking Singapore Malay beauty. She had shaved her pubis and it was smooth as her thighs. “How often do you shave your cunt, Harlina? I asked her. “Once a month, and I just shaved it yesterday that is why it is so smooth,” she replied and gave me that full smile. Harlina’s pussy was gorgeous and smooth as silk and she told me that she never uses a razor to shave her pubic hair but mild hair removers. Her beautiful pussy was intoxicating and irresistible just like her sexy face and body. The outer lips of her pussy were long and thick and they were slightly tanned while her inner lips were pouting and pink in color. The outer lips that merged at the apex was a little pouting too. Her sensitive clitoris that lay in the G-spot was trapped within the upper folds and one had to spread them apart with fingers to get to her clit. Harlina’s puffy pussy throbbed and the outer thick lips closed in and out in anticipation of my thick cock. My darling Harlina had a beautiful pussy that I loved to suck, lick and fuck all the time. Her pussy had already began to ooze its sweet juice from deep inside and the sticky white fluid glistened as pearls at the entrance of her fuck tunnel. Thin threads of this white pussy juice had formed between her pussy lips and the fragrance that emanated from Harlina’s feminine hood was intoxicating and erotic. I did not want to rush in licking my sweet darling Harlina’s beautiful pussy. I wanted to pleasure her pussy to the zenith with my tongue before I actually plugged her cunt with my dick. The loud erotic moans of Harlina indicated that she wanted me to do something to her steamy pussy that craved for attention. I spread her legs and placed my head between them and near her hairless warm Malay pussy. I could feel the heat that radiated from Harlina’s gorgeous pussy and the thick lips bulged out and closed in. I spread her legs wide and placed my fingers on her thick pussy lips. My touch was electrifying and she let out a loud moan and she had goose bumps all over her legs. I planted a gentle kiss on her inner thighs and her whole body quivered at the extreme pleasure. I rolled my tongue up and then down all over Harlina’s puffy pussy lips. Her pussy lips were warm and the fragrance could beat any of the leading perfume brands. The skin was smooth as silk as a razor has never touched her pussy. As my tongue moved up and down over her pussy lips, they opened out slowly and her sticky juice rolled down. I lapped it and it was sweeter than honey. “AUUUUNNGG!!!UUNGGG!!!AAAAA!!!OOOAAAAA!!!” Harlina moaned loudly. She clutched the blue silk sheets with her hands and swayed her head from side to side, as my tongue was busy licking her beautiful pussy. I rolled my tongue over her pussy lips and held them in my mouth and sucked gently. Harlina had never experienced such a good licking on her pussy and her moans got louder and louder. “Yeah!!!Lick my pussy as you like!!!” Harlina cooed. Using my fingers I gently gapped open her thick and warm pussy lips to explore her clit. On her G-spot stood her clit majestically. It was hard and wanted immediate attention. From the loud moans of Harlina, I knew that she was building up a huge orgasm and would climax anytime from now. I made my tongue stiff and licked around her clit in small circles and watched how her clit throbbed and bulged in size. My tongue went round and round around her most sensitive spot and her breathings got faster and faster. “UUNGG!!!AAAAAAOOOOO!!!!UUNNGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!” Harlina twisted her body in sheer pleasure. Her loud erotic moans and grunts rocked the room but it was music to my ears. Harlina was blessed with an erotic voice and it got much sexier and hotter when she is turned on to the maximum. I wanted her to moan louder and louder because it was food to my cock and it became stiffer and bigger. Her eyes were shut and her sexy lips were parted and the erotic muffled groans came down from her throat. I kept my tongue stiff and touched the sides of her clit and that triggered her pent up orgasm. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Harlina almost jumped off the bed as waves of intense orgasm swept her body. My sweet darling Harlina rocked, quivered, and jerked her body as waves after waves of orgasm came over and over again. She pressed down my head on her pussy and rubbed her spread cunt all over my mouth. She rubbed it harder and harder and she grunted loudly as she did this. My face was completely drenched with Harlina’s sweet juices and her hairless pussy moved all over my face. I did not do anything to stop her but let her to enjoy her orgasm. Her pussy was warm and the lips quivered and contracted as she moved it over my face. Slowly her rubbing got slower and her loud erotic moans gradually reduced to muffled moans. Waves of intense orgasm had finally subsided. I looked at her and she looked erotic and horny than ever. Her face and her luscious had become blood red. I had wanted to lick her pussy and her anus before she had actually reached her climax. But my dear Harlina climaxed just when the tip of my tongue touched her clit and I was not able to eat her pussy completely. Her pussy dripped wet and her inner thighs were drenched too with her pussy juices that gushed out in torrents when she experienced one of her best orgasm. Singapore Malay women are known to climax very intensely and thanks to my sexy darling Harlina who was a true Singapore Malay lady. “Fuck me dear!!!Fuck me harder and faster and deeper!!!” Harlina said and spread her legs even wider on the bed. “I love to fuck you my sexy darling Harlina, and I will fuck you as you want it,” I told her. I moved to her face and kissed her luscious lips and she tasted her sweet cunt juice that was mixed with my saliva. I positioned myself between her spread legs and placed my cock on her hairless pussy. Her pussy lips bulged out and they were warm. Harlina lifted her head up and looked at my hard and throbbing that bounced up and down on her hairless pussy. “This one is huge and hope you do a good job,” she said and gave me that full smile. Her full smile and her pink face were tonic to my cock and it became stiffer some more. I pushed her bulb of my cock into Harlina’s warm pussy and her thick pussy lips spread wide to accommodate the stiff member. Her pussy was incredibly warm and my cock shoved into her pussy smoothly. Her pussy was well lubricated with her own juices and it sucked in my cock rather easily. Nevertheless her pussy was warm, wet and tight. I pushed my cock inside her cunt all the way inside until I hit the hilt. It was marvelous. Harlina’s cunt has finally accommodated my 10-inch cock without any problem. Her pussy had a deep tunnel and it was now completely plugged with my thick and hard cock. Her thick pussy lips were stretched tightly around the thickness of my hard shaft and the feeling of having my cock deeply buried inside this sexy Malay woman’s hairless pussy was awesome. I have heard from my friends who have said that Singapore Malay women had bigger and deeper pussies than the local Chinese or Indian women. That was true for Harlina’s too as she had thick pussy lips and a deep pussy that could easily suck in a 10-inch cock. I never thought that I would be fucking this sexy and horny looking Singapore Malay woman who was at the Student Affairs Office. I had dreamt and fantasized this sexy looking Harlina and today she naked with my cock deeply buried inside her steaming fuck orifice. To fuck my sweet Harlina with perfect intimacy I hugged her tight and kissed her luscious lips. She responded greatly and urged me to move my cock in and out of her tight pussy. I began to fuck my beautiful Malay darling Harlina with slow and long strokes. Hugging her tightly and kissing and sucking her thick lips I pulled my cock all the way out and shoved it back gently. Her pussy was tight and steamed like an engine and my cock was bathed in her sticky pussy juice. Her thick pussy lips stretched and formed a tight wrap around the shaft of my cock giving me a tight feel. Her pussy walls were warm and throbbed as my cock moved in and out of the fuck hole. Harlina’s pussy was fully stuffed and plugged with my thick cock and she loved the thickness. I kept fucking her on and on and my cock now moved faster in and out of her throbbing cunt. Harlina had her pleasure doubled and she grunted as I kissed her lips while keeping up the onslaught of her pussy with my stiff cock. “Harder and deeper!!!” she yelled. The Malay women are wild and adventurous in bed and Harlina was getting at it and I loved it. This horny looking Singapore Malay woman was becoming extremely aroused and wanted me to fuck her without any stop. I loved that too and wanted to fuck my darling Harlina continually without a break. I have always built up a huge load for her. I increased my pace of fucking her and pulled my cock all the way until the tip of my cock touched her pussy lips and then plunged in hard. Harlina enjoyed and she squealed as my cock drilled her wet pussy. She loved it hard. I fucked her hard to her dreams and her pussy lips pouted out as my cock went deep inside the tunnel. Harlina twisted her body and raised her hip. This opened her pussy and my cock shaft rubbed on her sensitive clit. A few more strokes rubbing her clit and Harlina climaxed to an intense orgasm. “YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS,” she growled erotically and bucked her hips up. I went pounding Harlina’s pussy on and on even though she was in throes of an intense orgasm. My thick shaft rubbed her clit as it moved in and out of her pussy and she was trapped in a multiple orgasm and my sweet Harlina climaxed to orgasm again and again and again. Her body rocked and her breasts jiggled as she was bathed in orgasm after orgasm in a short time. She hugged me very tight and kissed my lips very rough and pushed her tongue inside my tongue. I licked her tongue and let my cock sit inside her pussy as she enjoyed the best orgasm in her life. I licked all over her sexy and horny looking face and made it wet in no time. My cock was still hard as a rock and began to fuck her again once the orgasm had ebbed off her sweet body. Harlina asked me to continue and I began to drill her wet pussy with my hard cock. I did not want to explode to an orgasm but to keep fucking my sexy darling Harlina for a long time. When ever I would feel that I was about to shoot my load I slowed down my strokes and sucked her luscious lips until I was ready. By this way I kept fucking my sweet Harlina for a long time. She was within my arms and our lips were locked as my cock moved in and out of her deep pussy. Harlina squealed like a squirrel as I increased my pace and pounded her pussy harder and faster. I raised her legs and she folded her knees to her breast. This opened her pussy even more and my erect cock took a deep plunge. I kissed her silky thighs as I kept fucking her really hard. I was fucking my sexy darling Harlina with long and deep strokes and she loved every thing that I made on her body. Her pussy was spread to its limits and her juices gushed out in torrents and I was building up a huge load. Harlina’s sexy face had turned very pink and her nipples jutted out like antennas. Her breathing got heavier and her moans got louder and louder. She signaled that she was nearing another orgasm. I raised my self and plunged deep inside her well stretched pussy and she bucked up her crotch to take in all of my cock. I clutched both of her round breasts with my hands and pounded her really hard. She loved it rough and grunted all the time. A few more hard strokes and my sexy Harlina climaxed in torrents. Her pussy walls quivered and pressed against my cock and her thick pussy lips stuck to my erect shaft very tight. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Harlina groaned loudly and lifted herself up. Her loud moans turned me on and my cock went all the way inside her steamy pussy, as she was drenched in orgasm after orgasm. My cock got stiff inside her warm pussy and I soon exploded inside her. Thick cock cream spurted out of my cock and hit her sensitive pussy walls and this sudden warmth triggered Harlina to another orgasm. My sexy Singapore Malay babe was continuously battered with one orgasm after another. Harlina’s sexy body jerked violently as she climaxed to her wild orgasm in ripple after ripple. I kept my cock buried inside her warm pussy until we both got out of the great feeling. I kissed Harlina on her sexy lips. “Are you ready for another shot, my dear Harlina?” I asked her. “I’d love to,” she said and gave me that big smile that immediately brought my limp cock back to its erection. Having enjoyed my beauty Singapore Malay queen thoroughly I carried her in my arms to the living room to fuck her in another position.

_A Halloween 2020 Story_ **Warning:** There is magic in this **[Halloween story](https://www.literotica.com/stories/contest.php/halloween-2020)**, which is also an **[Amorous Goods story](https://www.literotica.com/s/coming- soon-amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series)**. _This is the required Amorous Goods preamble:_ A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. These are the stories of some of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods. ** "Are you sure this is the right way?" Rebecca asked me. "No, not really. It's a small town around here somewhere, though," I said. "What's it called, at least? There's a signpost coming up," Rebecca said. "Middletown, what else? It's right, smack, dab in the middle of nowhere," I said. "You got that right," Rebecca replied. "Remind me again why we're doing this? And Michelle? Please don't say again it came to you in a dream!" "I told you: I saw a little squib about an estate sale in Middletown. We haven't been to an estate sale in months, and I'll just bet there's some great antiques there. I know you love antiques. Hell, we both do! Also, it came to me in a dream," I said. Rebecca was looking at Google Maps on her phone. "Take your next left," she said. Then she glared at me. ** "Boy, this town is small! It's got like five stores total, and that includes the grocery store and the general store. This place has to be it," Rebecca said. "Yep. See the small sign in the corner of the window? It says Estate Sales." I replied. "The sign above the door, painted rather poorly I might add, says Amorous Goods. What the bleep does that mean?" Rebecca asked. "At least they spelled Amorous correctly." "Let's go inside and find out," I said, and I opened the door, causing a small bell to tinkle. A thirties something woman emerged from a back room, sweeping her dirty blonde, longish hair from out of her right eye, and she looked at us squarely. "Welcome to my store, Amorous Goods. I'm Vikki," she said. "I'm Michelle, and this is Rebecca. We thought the store was called Estate Sales R Us. Is this not an estate sales store?" I asked. I was confused, because what was inside the store looked exactly like the estate sales Rebecca and I have enjoyed haunting for the last couple of years, but the store name didn't fit. The furniture was so pretty, my mouth was watering. My apartment was still seriously under furnished. It's hard, when all that you want is antiques. "Oh, yes, definitely, but now I've devoted it to just one estate: that of my Great Aunt. She was a collector, you see, and what you see here is only around a tenth of her collection! Her estate will keep me occupied for years, I guess," Vikki said. "Why did you rename the store Amorous Goods?" Rebecca asked. "We almost drove right past it." "I did it as a warning. My Great Aunt Elizabeth Jackson Howe was an enchantress, you see, and a random subset of her estate is magically charmed. Don't worry, though, she was a good witch. You have nothing to fear, unless you're averse to sex and love, and nobody really is, right?" Vikki said. Vikki said it fast, nervously. Actually, I felt she was a highly nervous person. Her hair was back in her eyes. She nervously brushed it away again. I idly wondered how many times each day she did that? "Anyway, look around, and I hope you enjoy yourself. I'll be in the back room in case you need me for questions, okay? Just ring the bell," Vikki said, gesturing to a chiffereau in the center of the store, which had a cleverly positioned bell in it. The chiffereau was made of bird's eye maple, and polished to a shine. We both said thanks, and we began to look around. Clearly Vikki was a little nuts, but the pieces at the estate sale of her Great Aunt Elizabeth were stunning, and looked to be worth a fortune. They were priced accordingly, however, and were way out of my range. Rebecca was rich (inherited money) however, and she looked over things carefully, while I just walked around and drooled. I was disappointed. The whole point of estate sales (as opposed to antique shops) was to find fabulous bargains, and clearly there were none here to be had. None, that is, until I got to the jewelry counter. There was a ring made of 14 carat solid gold, with diamonds encrusting one small part of it, and the price was $100. It was priced at least ten times too little; many even twenty times, fifty times, or more! It came with a matching bracelet, and necklace. They too were priced absurdly low. I called Vikki but she must not have heard me, for she did not come. I finally thought to ring the little tinkling bell on a shelf of the chiffereau, as she had said we should do. Immediately she was there, right behind me, saying, "Yes, Michelle. How can I help you?" I wondered how she had done that so fast, without me seeing her? "I'd like to try on some of this jewelry, if I may?" I asked. "Yes, of course. You have a good eye. They're really beautiful pieces," Vikki said. Vikki was right! "If I may ask, is the ring solid gold, and are the diamonds encrusting it real diamonds?" "Yes, exactly," Vikki replied. "Why is it so cheap?" I asked. I didn't want to take advantage of Vikki. Maybe she had just left off some zeroes or something? "Oh, yes. Well. You see, a woman already bought the ring, the bracelet, and the necklace, and she paid full price: $16,000 in total, plus tax. It seems, however, that the jewelry she bought is enchanted, and the woman freaked out to such an extent that she returned them. I offered to return her money, but she just fled. So, I priced them to move. I don't want anyone returning them again, nor do I want to profit from her unhappiness," Vikki said. "Returning them to me, you see, seems to be the only way to break the charm." "The charm?" I asked. "Oh yes, you remember I told you a random subset of objects on sale here are charmed? Mostly I don't know which ones are charmed, but from what that woman said, this set of jewelry is most definitely charmed!" Vikki said. "What happened to make her think that?" I asked. "She wouldn't say. She mumbled something about too much sex. It didn't make a lot of sense to me. She said she almost lost her husband because of it. Primarily, she seemed anxious to put some serious distance between her and the jewelry as fast as possible. Say, you're not married, right?" Vikki asked. I laughed. "Far from it. I'm almost a virgin and have no prospects right now," I said. "I like the concept of being almost a virgin," Vikki said, clearly amused by my diction. I had said too much. "It's a long, complicated story," I said, in that tone of voice we all know how to use to end a topic of discussion. "I'm sure it is. Well, if I may say so, you look stunning in the jewelry. Did you notice how the ring almost glows on your finger?" Vikki asked. "It's good that you're not married." "You do look gorgeous in it," Rebecca added. I looked in the mirror. Wow. If there were a ten-point scale of prettiness, then (let's say) before the jewelry I had been a five, or maybe on a good day a six. While wearing the jewelry, however, I was a nine! Probably I was a ten, but modesty prevents me from saying that. It was amazing, and amazing in a good way. Vikki was right: The ring appeared to be positively glowing! "Why is it good I'm not married?" I asked. Vikki looked as if she had regretted saying that. There was a little back and forth, but I insisted she answer. "Not all husbands are understanding if, for example, you were to kiss another man," Vikki said. "Oh, I see!" I said, even if I didn't, and then the three of us laughed. This whole enchanted jewelry thing was nonsense, but I was getting a true bargain; almost a steal! ** "I'm glad you got the jewelry," Rebecca said. "You look stunning in it! You really do. I know you're wearing only the ring, but it even brightens up your face, somehow!" "I still can't get over how cheap it was," I said. "It's probably just paste," Rebecca said. "The point is, it fits you. You look great with even only just the ring." "No, I think it's real. I worked at my Uncle Jim's jewelry store summers, and after school, as a kid. I know fake from real. This looked real," I said. "Back then, I saw women come in wanting us to buy their engagement rings, with diamonds on them the size of Montana. Often, they were just gold plate and the stones were cubic zirconium, and I had to deal with breaking the news to them. It was heartbreaking. The same with their gold band wedding rings." "How can you tell solid gold from gold plate, just by looking?" Becca asked. "Weight. Gold plate weighs significantly more. Trust me, Becca, vee have our vays!" and I said it with a fake Nazi accent. "Real or fake, it looks great on you, and you look stunning when you wear it. Say, this is going to sound weird, but did your boobs grow recently?" Rebecca asked. "You mean like today? Like, since I slipped on this ring -- which, by the way, fits me perfectly? My bra does suddenly feel kind of tight," I said. "I'm having my period, so maybe that's why my boobs are a little bigger. Do they look good bigger?" I had always been flat chested, and spent my adolescence waiting for my boobs to grow, which they never did. Until now, it seemed, after I had become resigned to a flat chested life. "Well, I'm not a guy, but if I were one, then yeah, they'd be mighty fine. Mighty fine," Becca said. "What's going on, Michelle?" "Damned if I know," I replied. "If I may ask, why do you always say you're almost a virgin?" Rebecca asked. "It's a long, and complicated story," I replied using a certain tone of voice that indicates that's all I wanted to say. It didn't work. "It's a long drive back home; three she hours at least. Spill, Michelle," Becca said. So, I finally told someone. I had never told anyone any of it before. "I had sex my freshman year, one time, one night," I said. "Everyone did. That's not a big deal, but it's reassuring to hear you're more normal than I thought," Becca said. I shot her a look, even though I was driving. "That's it? That's the whole story?" she said. "No. It was at a Halloween party, off campus. At a certain time of the party, my memories stop. I woke up, alone, the next morning, in my own bed, with a sore vagina, and it was matted with cum," I said. "Yeah, that sort of thing has happened to me, too. To lots of us girls," Becca said. "I have no memory of it. None. I don't even have a clue who the guy or guys were!" I said. "I had been a virgin, it was my first time, and it's all a blank." As I remembered it, I was sort of reliving the horror of it all. "Guy or guys? More than one?" Becca asked. How did Becca know to ask that particular question? "My mouth tasted of cum, I felt nauseated, there was cum matted around my pussy and all over my boobs, I was naked, and I had been fucked in the ass, too. Can only one man do all that?" I asked. "I see what you mean," Becca said. "Wow, that's bad. No memory at all?" "None. If it weren't for all the cum all over me and how sore I was, I would think it was a delusion or something. But it was real, all right," I said. "Jesus," Becca muttered. "I know for sure it was real because as it turned out, I was pregnant, as I discovered when I missed my next two periods and had near constant morning sickness," I said. "I had no idea who the father might have been, or potential fathers if there had been more than one guy in my vagina. The only thing I can remember is the name Cod, and he might not even have been the father!" "You have a child??!" Becca exclaimed. Becca always noticed the important stuff. "No, and before you ask, cause I know you want to, I didn't get an abortion, either. I miscarried," I said. "That's quite a story," Becca said. "And it was on Halloween seven years ago?" "Yes," I said. "I was eighteen, and a freshman at DePauw, in Indiana, and I went up to a big Halloween party at Purdue." "Was the sex, uh, you know, without your permission?" Becca nervously asked. "I don't know. I can't remember. I do know, however, that I was totally up for sex that night. I was sick and tired of being the only virgin among all of my friends, so probably at least some of it I agreed to. Maybe all of it. Perhaps I even agreed enthusiastically, I just don't know," I said. "Did it scar you? I guess it must have, since you blacked it out of your memory?" "Yes, and it completely killed any desire for sex on my part. Until now, that is," I said, "I'm beginning to get horny for the first time in seven years. No idea why, but maybe it's because Halloween is coming again?" I didn't tell Becca at the time, but for some reason I felt that back then it wasn't just Cod, but Cod and a friend of his. I could not be sure, however, because my actual memory was a blank. What kind of nutty name was Cod, anyway? What a way to lose your virginity! I put some music on the car stereo, to end my conversation with Becca. I had a lot of thinking to do. ** That night I went to take my new ring off, and I couldn't. My finger must have swelled. It was, after all, an unseasonably hot day. I'd try again in the morning. I took my blouse off and looked in the mirror. My boobs were practically bursting out of my bra. I needed a new bra, with a bigger cup size. Funny, I hadn't noticed it before. I guess I was going from a B cup to a C cup. Twenty-five years old, and I'm finally getting killer boobs. Go figure. At work the next day, during my lunch hour, I dashed to a lingerie store where there was a woman who was known for fitting women to their proper bra sizes. They also had beautiful lingerie, from France and Italy. She told me, in no uncertain terms, that my cup size was D. I was incredulous. "How could I go from a B cup to a D cup overnight? Two days ago, I was definitely a B cup!" I exclaimed. "Honey, I hear that a lot. You'd be amazed how many women are walking around in the wrong bra sizes. Still, I agree with you, a two-cup bra size is a big jump. My guess is you've been wearing bras that are too small for quite a while now. Take off your blouse and your bra and take a look at yourself, why don't you?" the bra lady said. I did. OMG, suddenly, I was stacked! Flabbergasted, I turned to look at the bra lady, and she was smiling a knowing smile I was sure she reserved for just these occasions. My lack of embarrassment or even shame at her seeing my naked boobs was also strange. "That's the smile we like to see on our customers. My dear, you look stunning," the bra lady said. "I feel sexy. I've never looked this good before," I said. Usually I'm a shy person, but with this new bra, and -- quite frankly -- what seemed to me to be my new boobs, I felt as if I could be flirtatious! Now only were they seriously bigger, but they were "natural." No implants for this girl! I kind of wanted to show off for the world. I'd never been shy, but I had never before felt I had anything worth showing off. "You do indeed look sexy. Also, forgive me, but I couldn't help noticing as you changed your bra, that you have extraordinary nipples," the bra lady said. "I know! It's so embarrassing. I have to wear heavily padded bras to keep them from poking at my blouses and sweaters. I've even given up wearing T shirts. At times it's almost obscene the way they poke," I said. "You know, my dear, it's now stylish to have nipples poke. Women come to me asking for bras that let their nipples poke. They even buy bras which poke at their blouses for them," the bra lady said. "You're kidding?" I replied. I had lived a life of shame, and for naught? "No, I'm not. These two bras are two of my best sellers. This one here has fake nipples, and this other one is cut open to let a girl's nipples out, free to poke. It requires, however, a careful fitting. Your nipples have to align just so with the openings," she said. "Want to try it on?" "No, thanks," I said. "Try it on, honey, just for fun. Then put on this blouse, which will fit you better than your current one, anyway; I mean, it will fit you across your bust," she said. The one I was wearing had in fact been rather tight around my boobs. All my old tops were, now, it seemed. "Well...say, the fabric is really soft and supple," I said, as I touched the blouse she had offered me. "Yes, it's Egyptian cotton, and a special weave. Want to give it a try?" "Well...okay," I said, as I went to the changing area. I took what I thought of as the nipples bra with me, and I tried on both the bra and the blouse she had suggested. I first put on, with some trepidation, the bra. Then, I added the blouse. The blouse felt so amazing on my skin, I knew I had to get it. I went to look in the mirror. The bra lady was busy with another couple who had wandered into the store: A woman who came with her boyfriend, or maybe her husband, in tow. I studied myself in the mirror. I looked as hot as a firecracker. My nipples poked at the blouse, big time. I should explain. I have really long nipples. My nipples embarrassed me throughout my adolescence, and my mother bought me heavily padded bras, just to prevent my nipples from poking. In junior high and high school, having one's nipples always poking out made a girl look like a slut, and all the boys stared. The girls would shun me, too. Hence the padded bra solution. Now, was I about to go full circle? No way, no how. As I admired my new slutty look, however, I noticed in the mirror that my ring was positively glowing. WTF? Yes, it was definitely glowing! I'd have to ask Gary, my friend the science nerd, what caused that. In the meantime, however, something came over me, and I bought the two bras, two sets of matching panties, and the blouse, too. My finances were unhappy, but my American Express card seemed delighted to be dusted off and put to such an expensive use. Most men have no idea how expensive fine lingerie can be! ** I returned to the office wearing the new bra that let my nipples do their thing. My nips had been wanting to poke out and embarrass me since I was thirteen, and now, at the age of 25, they had their chance! The nipples bra also fit me perfectly (the bra lady really knew her stuff) with nice D cups, and for the first time in a long time, well since forever, my boobs looked stunning under my new blouse. No longer did I fade into the woodwork at work. Suddenly, everyone noticed me, men were finding excuses, often transparent, pathetic ones, just to come up and talk to me. While the men spoke with me, their eyes would drift to my boobs and my nipples and then jerk back up to my eyes. I had legs, too. Quite nice ones, in my opinion, but at work it seemed to be my boobs all the time. Maybe I should invest in some shorter skirts, too? I had to deal with two conflicting emotions: embarrassment to be showing my boobs and nipples at work, and laughter at the behavior of my male co-workers. Throughout, however, like most women, I knew how to smile a toothy, blaze-of- headlights smile, no matter the situation, and this was no different. The strange, truly strange thing that happened, took place on the sidewalk, on the way home from work. I work and live in New York City, and usually I take the subway four stops from work to home, but that day it was sunny and nice, and I decided to walk. Every single man who passed by me walking the other way checked me out. It was, after all, kind of thrilling. This must be what pretty, sexy women have to put up with all the time, I thought. Why do they claim to hate it? I kind of loved it. Maybe it was because it had never happened to me before? Holy crap; had I now become a pretty, sexy woman? Just as I had that thought a man's eyes caught mine. This was bizarre: I never look into the eyes of strange men on the sidewalk. No woman does. It's just not done! Before I could have another thought, the man -- who had a strange expression -- came up to me, and I stopped still. He took my head in his hands and he kissed me. Now there's lots of reactions a girl can have when a man, a total stranger, suddenly kisses her on a city street. Plenty come to mind: scream, slap, run, get grossed out, panic; and that's just to begin! My reaction, and believe me, I couldn't believe it myself, was simply to submit, and to kiss him back. Our mouths opened, and we French kissed, our tongues enjoying meeting each other inside my mouth. It was so unlike me, I just stood there, stunned, while an equally stunned stranger walked away. It was as if we had each been acted upon by some strange, unknown force. He was good looking, most likely in his thirties, was prematurely graying at his temples, didn't wear glasses, and could have benefited from a closer shave in the morning, and that's all I knew about him. Oh, yes: His taste in aftershave could bear improvement. Weird, right? ** Becca didn't answer her phone. She always answered unless she was at work. She's an ER nurse, and she turns off her phone when working, leaving it in her purse in her locker at the hospital. I had called her once an hour beginning at 7PM, and each time it went directly to voice mail. Becca had to be the prettiest, or at least the sexiest, ER nurse at the hospital. I'm sure many men, sick or injured though they might be, enjoyed the sight of Becca attending to them! Women too, for that matter. Everyone likes a pretty sweetheart of a nurse. "I see you tried to call me five times. What's happening?" Becca said, when her shift finally ended and she checked her phone. "Can you come by my place on your way home? I've had an unusual week," I replied. ** "Spill girl, what's this about?" Becca said, as she walked in, and before she even took off her coat. "Look at me," I said, and I did a 360 in front of her. "What happened? Are you wearing falsies? And where did the bubble butt come from?" she said. I had always hated my ass, it being as flat as a man's. Now it was literally filling out my jeans! "You look hot as hell!" "I know. I still weigh 110 pounds, too. The weight has somehow redistributed itself," I said. "How? Have you been in the gym 24/7? It's only been a week since we went to that estate sale, or whatever it was," Becca replied. "It's not just how I look now, which I really like, by the way, but it's something else," I said. "Pray tell," she replied. "Well, every day this week, every single day, a random, strange man has stopped me on the sidewalk and kissed me," I said. "Every day it's a different guy; and it's always one guy a day. Well two: one on the way to work, and one on the way home." "What? Just like that?" I nodded. "What did you do? A different man every day? Why would someone do that? You must be totally freaked out!" Becca asked like a machine gun spitting out the words. "I kissed them back, is what I did. Each and every one. And no, I've never seen any single one of them again," I said, amazed at my own words. "Good strategy," Becca said after a pause. "Who knows what might have happened had you responded differently? There's lots of crazy people out there." I hadn't even thought of that. "You don't understand. I wanted to return their kisses. It turned me on. Becca, I don't know what's happening. First my boobs, then my ass, and now enjoying strange men kissing me on the street? I'm at a loss here. You're a nurse. What's happening?" "You have a bleeping PhD! What do I know?" Becca replied. "My PhD is in Operations Research. The subject doesn't include body parts like tits and ass," I said. "Sociology, though, that's the way to go. In France there are sociologists who study beaches, and there's even a sub-specialty on topless beaches." "Maybe Operations Research needs an update?" she replied, and we both got the giggles. Becca got serious. "What's changed this past week, besides your tits and ass, and the behavior of men on the sidewalks of New York?" Becca asked. I shrugged, about to say 'nothing,' but then, at the same time, we both looked at my new ring. Vikki had said it was enchanted, but of course magic is just poppycock, we both knew that. And yet... "Take off your ring, and we'll see if anything changes, why don't you?" Becca helpfully suggested. "It doesn't come off. It refuses to budge past my knuckle. I've tried. After I put it on, it seemed to shrink into a tight fit on my finger," I said. "Forget I just said that. I'm not crazy, you know." "That's ridiculous that you can't get it off your finger. Look, this happens at the hospital. Some people have rings with steel in them and need an MRI. We have to have the rings removed before the MRI, and lots of people have trouble removing them," Becca said. "So, what do you do?" I asked. "Soap. Soap is a great lubricant. However, we're talking about people who haven't removed their rings in years, and their fingers got fatter, growing around their rings. You've had yours on for only a week, right?" "Right. Let's try soap anyway. Dish soap?" "Yeah. It's the best," Becca said. "We use Palmolive at the hospital." We tried, rather vigorously, and it appeared -- this is nuts, I know -- that the ring was getting angry! We gave up. Actually, I was kind of happy with my new boobs and ass. Maybe I didn't have to remove the ring? After all, no harm, no foul, you know? Even though it was midnight, I said, out of the blue, "Let's go clubbing!" "It's almost midnight, and I just worked a full shift." That was Becca's way of saying no. "Say, can I try on your bracelet? Have you tried it on?" Becca said. "No, I've been too scared, given the effects of the ring!" I said. "But go ahead, if you want." Becca smiled broadly and put it on. It really is a beautiful bracelet: A solid gold bangle, encrusted with pavé diamonds. She put it on, and her face changed from pale white to flush, with a beautiful shade of rose pink. It sounds corny, but suddenly she had rosy cheeks. Her tits and ass stayed the same. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" Becca suddenly exclaimed, and she fell onto the sofa. I ran to her, and she seemed okay. "What happened?" "That bracelet is definitely charmed. As soon as I put it on, I got strange feelings. I can't describe them. The bracelet wants to come off me. It says it belongs to you," Becca said. Becca never talked like this. She knows -- hell, everyone knows -- bracelets are not sentient and do not talk, or communicate in any way. However, Becca had removed the bracelet, and was holding it out to me, and she said, "Put it on, Michelle! NOW!" "The bracelet speaks to you?" I asked, somewhat worried for Becca's sanity. Then Becca fell back against the sofa cushions, and she was unconscious. I was scared. If this had happened to anyone else, I'd have called Becca for help and advice. Since it happened to Becca herself, I had no one to call! I remembered the line from Ghostbusters: Who you gonna call? I checked to see if she was breathing (she was), then I checked her pulse (66), and I was out of ideas, just like that. I took the bracelet from her hand, and I put it on my wrist, and then thought I'd pull up her eyelids and look at her eyes. I'd seen that done often enough on TV, after all. I didn't know what I'd be looking for, or why people did that, but what the hell. As I bent over her, she woke up. "The bracelet looks good on you. Only you can wear it. How do you feel, now that you're wearing it?" "Normal. Becca, are you okay?" "Never better. Let's go clubbing. You were right. The bracelet wants us to go clubbing," Becca said. "How do you know that?" I asked, quite reasonably, I thought. Becca had clearly lost her mind. ** Becca knew some clubs that were stylish, and arriving around midnight was optimal, she said. Doing things optimally is what Operations Research is all about. We were waved inside; an advantage of being two young, attractive women! I was wearing my new blouse, but without a bra, to please my bracelet. I know that sounds crazy, but Becca said that's what the bracelet wanted, and she was adamant. It did no harm, so I complied. Becca said arriving at midnight was the perfect time, because the "Go Ugly Early" crowd would already have made their moves. These are men, she explained, who primarily wanted just to get laid, and if they waited around, going for the sex goddess du jour, they'd probably lose to some other guy (or to nobody at all, if the'sex goddess' were like me) and then all women would be spoken for, and they'd go home defeated, and alone. If, on the other hand, they went early in the evening for an 'ugly girl,' they'd be likely to score. I was a bit disgusted by all this, but I brushed it off. Since I had begun to wear the ring, nothing seemed to bother me. Why was the bracelet communicating with Becca, and not with me? Who the f**k knows? Who knows anything about all of this nonsense with the "charmed" jewelry? Not me; sure as shootin, not me! I did, of course, wonder if Becca was just playing with me, and pretending to get messages from the bracelet. That didn't fit her personality, but that was the only way I could explain what was happening. To be honest with myself, I had to admit it: I was scared. If my new ring had really changed my boobs and my ass, and compelled strange men to kiss me, and for me to enjoy it and kiss them right back, then what did that portend for an evening of clubbing? And what unknown as yet effects would the bracelet add to the mix? I'm a shy girl. I've never really had sex, except for that one time, which is why I'm almost a virgin, and I've even rarely had boyfriends. Sure, I've dated, and even fooled around with guys a bit, but compared to your typical 25-year-old single woman, I'm a real innocent! I felt like I was stepping into the unknown, and a dangerous unknown at that! I was scared. Terrified, is a better description. The ring had already shown what it could do, with my boobs, my ass, and the random kissing on the street. Now I had recklessly added the bracelet to the mix, and I was going to enter a boy-meets-girl kind of place with loud music and dark lighting, not knowing what effect the bracelet would have on me. "Becca, I can't do this. It's late. Let's go home," I said, trembling a little with my fear. Indeed, I held back, paralyzed with fear. Becca gently pulled at my arm, and suddenly, my bracelet somehow communicated directly with me, even as it had done earlier with Becca. My clitoris got zapped, and I almost had a climax right there on the street in front on the club! How embarrassing! I would be shamed out of my mind if I didn't comply with Becca and -- especially -- my bracelet! We entered the club, again waved in by the bouncer. I felt as if I had no choice. I said I could not explain what was happening, but now I realized it was the charm of my jewelry: The ring and the bracelet. Still a doubter? Then explain this: For the first time in my life, within five minutes of entering the club, six men surrounded me. Before I had the ring, and before I had big boobs and a bubble butt, typically I was ignored. I do mean ignored, too. Now I had added the bracelet. I felt as if I were asking for it, even if I had no idea what "it" actually was. All of a sudden, I was the center of attention? Seriously? Becca had only two men vying for her attention, and Becca is a prize: Rich, pretty, and sexy, with a dynamite personality. Me, on the other hand? I'm just me. Yet six men surrounded me, all talking at once, all dying to make a good impression on me. Whoa -- what's happening? One of the men caught my eye, and maybe he saw the submission buried within me, for he immediately asked if he could have this dance? He told me he was Rod. I said, "I'm Michelle, and yes, of course." Rod led me away from the other five men and danced with me until 4AM when the club closed. During those almost four hours Rod monopolized me, and he molested me a little bit. It had been a mistake to wear my new blouse without a bra. Not only did Rod kiss me, which was no surprise, but I think I handled it well. Indeed it seems as if I was powerless to do anything but return his kisses. After a lot of kissing, Rod slipped his hands under my new, soft, and clinging blouse, stroking my bare back. In what would normally be considered an outrageous liberty, he slipped his hands around under my blouse to my new, special effect boobs, and massaged them the way an angel from erotic heaven might have done. Finally, to top it all, he pushed up my blouse exposing my naked boobs to his lascivious eyes, as well as the eyes of people close by, should they have been looking. He kept my boobs naked for a good period of time, while he played with my long nipples. He clearly loved my nipples. Rod gestured to a friend to come over and join in, and his friend Colm (an Irish name I learned) began kissing me, as Rod planted his mouth on my right boob, and then moved his mouth to my left boob. I was losing my mind, since all this was happening in public with two men I didn't really know! I was close to a climax, almost constantly. Becca told me later I had been "edging." I actually thought that had I been wearing a skirt instead of jeans, Rod might have tried even to fuck me, right there in the club, in public. What's more, it's conceivable that I wouldn't have been able to resist, and

acquiesced to the fuck. As I imagined such a scenario, I actually had fantasized myself into a sexual climax. Holy shit! Good thing I had worn my skinny jeans. Boy, was it a good thing! Rod invited me out and like the good little submissive I had apparently become, I said "Yes, I'd love to." I gave him my coordinates and he told me he'd pick me up Tuesday at 6PM. When I finally got home around 4:30AM I had a massive panic attack. I quickly removed my bracelet! As I placed it back in the velvet lined box the jewelry had come in, I looked at the necklace, which was exquisitely gorgeous, all solid gold and inlaid with rubies, jade, lapis lazuli, and diamonds. The necklace was a statement all by itself, and it had to be worth a fortune, since all the stones were real gemstones! They were high quality gemstones, too. What would happen were I to add the necklace to the mix? I shuddered. I didn't dare wear the necklace for my date on Tuesday. Becca helped me to choose my outfit, and this time I wore my new bra (the one without the exposed nipples feature) and Becca pushed me into wearing my new bracelet. My ring is always on, anyways; it still would not come off my finger. And yes, random men were still kissing me on the street. I had taken to using taxis to avoid that, but I could not afford to do that indefinitely. I wore a slinky black dress Becca had helped me to buy on Monday. Even with my bra, you could see my nipples clear as day, poking annoyingly at the fabric. I felt that I looked like a slut, and given what I had let Rod and Colm do to me at the club on Saturday, I felt like one on a more profound level, too. I wondered what Rod thought? I really didn't know much about him at all! Well, Rod and I hit it off, big time! He took me to an elegant restaurant and plied me with wine. The food was delicious, too. Then we went back to his place, and I got to see how he lived. Single men often have no taste, but Rod had some, if not a lot. He put a movie on the TV via streaming, and we sat next to each other on the couch. Before the movie ended, I was watching it naked, and Rod was driving me nuts with two fingers in my pussy! I had never before let a man get me naked, except doubtless for that one time in college that my memory had blacked out, and yet this was my first date with Rod! It had to be the doing of the ring and the bracelet, combined. Then it happened: Rod drove me to a climax. I was sure that at this point Rod thought I was a floozy. Why wouldn't he? Rod tried to take advantage of me, when I was at my most vulnerable in the wake of my climax, moving me around and spreading my legs far apart. When he undressed and I saw his (gorgeous) hard cock getting into position, I freaked. No way I was going to fuck a man, any man, on our first date. I didn't care if I was 25 and it was to be expected, I just wasn't ready to do it. I told him, "No." "Can I just jerk you off instead?" I asked, in a hopelessly timid, pleading voice. "A blowjob?" Rod asked. I couldn't believe we were negotiating! "I've never given one before," I said. I didn't even know if that was true! Maybe I had done just that during my blackout freshman year? It was obvious Rod was shocked at my innocence. "Are you a virgin, too?" he asked, clearly incredulous. Always truthful, I said, "Almost." It's a reply that nobody, ever, understands unless I explain it. Thank goodness Rod didn't ask me to explain my answer. Anyway, I did it: Rod was the beneficiary of my first ever blowjob. I knew what was expected of me, and I did it. Nevertheless, I was surprised when Rod loved it. I suspected my bracelet was coaching me through it, as somehow, I just intrinsically knew what to do. I even knew when he was about to squirt, and my bracelet somehow convinced me to show Rod his cum in my open mouth, and then to swallow it all, regardless of the taste. Rod escorted me home, and he kissed me goodnight at my door. He managed to remove my dress at my door, and he was going to town with my tits while he kissed me passionately, before I finally managed to get into my apartment without anyone seeing me there, kissing a man while dressed only in panties, thigh high stocking, and heels! Rod called me the next day. He was invited to a Halloween party on Saturday night, which actually was Halloween this year. Would I be his date? I was supposed to go a different party with Becca. "I'd love to go with you, Rod. Would it be okay if my best friend Rebecca came, too? We always spend Halloween together. You met her at the club last Saturday night." Rod agreed, and he told me he'd bring Colm. Those two men seemed to be inseparable! Anyway, it was all set. Becca agreed, too. She was thrilled for me, and Becca never had any trouble finding a man, and if she didn't want Colm, well, Rod had assured me there would be other single men there. We were all set. There was one concern that was gnawing at me. I felt as if somehow I knew Rod "from before." But of course, I couldn't have, right? I mean, he was a stranger. I had only met him a week earlier. I was having déjà vu not only due to him, but also as regards Colm. Well, everyone has déjà vu from time to time, right? I put it out of my head. ** Both Becca and I had dressed in our Halloween costumes from the year before. Becca had a slinky and sexy, black witch outfit, complete with a hat. I had a sexy nurse outfit. It was sexy because it was much too short. My panties were hidden, but only barely, and the skirt had a flare to it, to boot. Lots of people at the party would probably be able to answer a quiz on the color of my panties (lavender). The bad part of the nursing outfit was that both my boobs and my ass had grown, since a year earlier. My ass was now barely covered, and my larger boobs pushed at the outfit, causing it to strain to cover them. No matter the bra, my nipples poked at the thin fabric. If you like a slutty look, then my outfit would be the perfect choice for this Halloween! Becca just looked pretty and sexy, but I looked like a true slut, asking for it, whatever 'it' is. Shit. Becca and I were together, waiting for Rod to come to pick us up. Becca and I had had a fight, because she wanted me to wear the necklace for the Halloween party, and I was much too afraid to wear it. "Look, you know you're probably going to let Rod fuck you, anyway, Michelle. You're way overdue, still being a virgin at age 25! It's ridiculous. The only thing the necklace is going to do is to make you even more irresistibly gorgeous than you already are, for Pete's sake," my best friend Becca, frustrated with me, said in a tone of exasperation. I actually think she was jealous of my new, improved body. Could it be? "I'm not a virgin. I'm only _almost a virgin_," I said, not addressing her point. "Whatever. I'm not fighting over semantics. Put on the damn necklace, already, it's almost time for him to show up. When he sees you in that necklace he's going to melt into a puddle of male hormones," Becca said. She really is a great friend. "By the way, thanks for including me for Rod's party. I'll bet it will be filled with hunks! I'm kinda horny, myself, you know." Becca was always horny. "How could you be? Didn't Jim lay you just a few days ago? Doesn't he usually fuck you to smithereens?" I asked. "Colm will be there. I think he likes you." "The jury is out on Colm. He strikes me as strange. Anyway, as regards Jim, he had a little problem," Becca said. I looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "Erectile dysfunction," she explained. "Oh my, I'm so sorry. Why didn't you just blow him? The way you give blowjobs should get any man as hard as a rock," I said. "I did. No dice; he stayed soft." "Even the way you give a man a blowjob, he still stayed soft?" I was incredulous. Becca gives blowjobs from heaven. Becca gave me the single raised eyebrow. "Rumors. I know about your blowjobs by rumor, of course," I quickly said. Becca continued, "Jim says it's some new medicine he's taking. He did finger me nicely, though. Very nicely," she said, getting kind of dreamy-eyed, as she remembered. "But I'm telling you, if some guy tries to pick me up tonight, I'm making sure he's hard while dancing with me, right there at the party!" "Why don't you just fuck him at the party?" I asked, surprising myself with the question/suggestion. "Oooh, Michelle! What a filthy mind you have!" Becca replied. "I could never do that. I'm surprised you even thought that!" I was surprised, too. We both looked at my necklace, now hanging down across my chest from my neck, and perfectly framing my boobs, with their bleeping protruding nipples. So that's what my necklace is contributing! My innocent mind is becoming filthy and depraved, now, is it? Shit. Rod was indeed dazzled, and not just by me; Rebecca frequently bedazzles men. I long ago stopped being jealous; it's just the way of the world, the way things are. It was nice for me, though, that now I too was dazzling men. About time, I'd say! Actually, I had thought the time would never come. I felt that I had the magical jewelry to thank for that! Halloween parties can be tacky, and this one was no exception. It was thoroughly over decorated¬¬¬, with fake cobwebs everywhere, and gravestones, and special effect music with ghosts rattling chains. The real interest, which I suppose is often the case, was in the costumes. Some were very creative, and around 80% I'd guess were sexy. I'm talking both men and women. I had thought my costume was sexy, but it was only middling compared to some of the other women at the party, who seemed to be competing for a slut of the year award, or something. Still, Rod seemed to be drooling when he looked at me. Colm also couldn't take his eyes off me. Are those two men ever apart? Becca, who could look sexy in a sackcloth, had been dancing with a nice- looking guy. She came over to me, and she whispered, conspiratorially, "If a guy has a big nose, does that mean he'll also have a big cock?" "I thought what was important was that his cock be hard?" I asked. "Good point. Well, he's got that. In spades. Good and hard. And you're right: That's enough. Thanks, Shell!" she said. I hate it when Becca calls me Shell, but she only does it when she's drunk or stoned. Probably at this point in the party, she was both. She seemed happy, so I just smiled. Getting back to me, though, there was some illusion of familiarity about Rod that kept bothering me. I kept feeling as if we had met before, somehow, which was, of course, ridiculous. I had the same feeling about Colm. I was having déjà vu all over again. I didn't think much about it, though. Everything in my life was strange, just then. I decided to stop worrying and enjoy whatever fate had in store for me. Carry on, can keep calm, right? Maybe I should just do whatever my enchanted jewelry had in store for me! Rod was monopolizing me at the party, but I didn't mind. I was kind of sweet on Rod anyway, you know? I could have done without Colm always coming around, asking for a dance every so often, and kissing me all the time while we danced. Rod kissed me constantly, too. They were both drowning me with compliments, telling me how pretty I looked, how divine my kisses were, all that stuff. I was eating it up. To have two good-looking men coming after me so intensely was doing wonders for my (rather severe) insecurities. The two men began to take some liberties; my mother would have said they were "getting fresh." Rods hands were always under the top of my nurse's costume, fondling my bare boobs, and turning me on, incessantly. Both men were hard, too; I was sure Becca would be happy! I was also happy their ubiquitous hands were not going under my skirt! I was so aroused at that point, I would have had trouble marshalling up the will to stop them! The grand moment arrived. Awards were to be given for best costumes in a bunch of different categories. The last category, sexiest costume, was saved for second to last. A woman came up from behind me and tapped my shoulder. "You've been nominated for sexiest costume. Do you wish to participate?" Rod and Colm both insisted I do it. I was a little nervous about it. I'd have to up on the stage and do "some things" the woman told me, but Rod was so insistent, that I agreed. She took my name and other details and left to tap someone else on the shoulder. I found out later that it was Becca, of course, who had nominated me. Sheesh. I had some idea of what might happen. My name was called at the appropriate time and I had to go to the stage, with the other nominees. My outfit was sexy in that it was suggestive. The skirt was short enough to hint at showing my panties if I moved wrong, and my blouse of course showed off the large bumps from my nipples pushing against it. Also, my blouse had buttons, and they looked to be under quite a strain, as my newly larger boobs pushed relentlessly at the blouse. This also created gaps, giving the careful voyeur little peeks of parts of my boobs. Should anyone have bothered to look at my face, they would have seen a lightly made up face with bright red lipstick and a big, white, toothy smile, with twinkling eyes. (I had had to reapply the lipstick, due to all the kissing of Rod and Colm, both!) The first person, a lovely woman named Marybeth, was the first to be called up. She was wearing a one-piece suit that appeared to be painted on her body, hugging her ass, her tits, her everything. It had a zipper that began at her neck and went down to her crotch. Her smile was radiant as she came up to model her outfit on stage for the crowd. She did some poses, and twirled around, but if the men in the crowd wanted to see skin, or nipples, or even a pussy, they'd be disappointed. They would have been disappointed indeed, if the MC hadn't taken her zipper and lowered it all the way from her neck to the spot where her legs come together to join her torso. Her naked boobs popped out, and the men got some skin, and nipples, too. Next, he pulled the jumpsuit off her shoulders while she stood there passively. She gave a shrug, and it fell to the floor. There Marybeth stood, now dressed only in panties, blushing furiously, but still smiling. The place roared with applause and catcalls. Her panties had a bikini cut, and were rose pink. The second contestant was named Laura. She wore a witch's outfit similar to Becca's, but instead of being made of a thin, black cotton, it was beige silk. The way silk falls on a woman often gives a strong impression of sensuality, and as the MC removed Laura's witch's hat, her blonde hair spilled out, cascading down and swirling around her shoulders. Laura, it seemed to me, was one hell of a beautiful witch. Was she also a sexy one, though? It took the MC less than a minute to reduce Laura, too, to her panties, and I was looking at two terrifically pretty women, naked, save for their panties, standing right next to me. Moreoever, they seemed to have no embarrassment at their exposure; no shame! They never lost their winning smiles. I gulped, knowing what was in store for me, a relatively innocent 25-year-old woman who was almost a virgin. I was the next victim for the MC. He gave me a little pro forma interview, and then he shocked me by violently ripping off my blouse! He showed none of the tenderness he had displayed towards the other two women, and my fake smile quickly gave way to an expression of downright fear. Before I could recover, my skirt, also ruined, was on the floor, and now I too was dressed only in my panties. I just looked at the MC, stunned and uncomprehending, while the raucous crowd cheered wildly. The MC was speaking, but I was only hearing the cheering, and somehow that helped me to recover my smile. Everyone was seeing my almost naked body, and in particular my boobs and nipples, the tiny mole still on my hip (it was scheduled to be removed the very next week), all my curves, with maximal skin. There was another round, amazingly. One by one we three girls all lost our panties, they being tossed out to the crowd, and a huge cheer rose up when one of the drunken men (or women!) caught a pair of panties. Rod and Colm didn't even stand a chance of catching mine, nor did Becca, but wait -- the man she was with managed to catch them. He was the one with the big nose and maybe (or maybe not?) the big cock! The MC had the men with the panties come to the stage to return them to us three girls. They did, and the MC told us to thank them with a kiss. I guess it was to be expected, but since each of us were naked, as we kissed the men their hands went everywhere, boobs, backs, asses, and -- of course -- to our pussies, as well. Marybeth fell prey to her panty holder. She got so turned on that her knees gave way as she collapsed to the floor. Panty guy fell on top of her and somehow he had got his cock out and he began to fuck her, right there on the stage, in front of everyone! I hope to God she had known him and he was her boyfriend, or something! Next, it was Laura giving her guy a blowjob. This was all too much for me, so after my guy had molested me with his hands and taken out his (rather nice looking) cock, I simply said thank you and walked away, holding my panties. I knew I'd lose, but I no longer cared. On the other hand, I was naked, save for my panties, which I had rapidly put back on. I still had my jewelry on, of course, and as I wondered what to do, I looked at my bracelet, seemingly by chance. There before me, bizarrely glowing, was my nurse's outfit. It had been repaired! I quickly put it on, left the stage, and looked around for Becca, or alternatively for Rod and Colm. I found Becca, relieved to find a friendly face. I mean, everyone had a smile for me, there were friendly faces everywhere, but that was due to having just seen me in all of my glory. Becca, on the other hand, was a friend. I was tapped on the shoulder. It was that woman again: I'd been nominated to be in the spell casters competition. "By who?" I asked. I knew nothing about magic, and did not believe in it. "By both the MC and myself. We saw the way your nurse's outfit glowed and repaired itself. That's a magic trick we've never seen before! Plus, you're gorgeous, and after the sexy outfit competition, everyone here loves you. You exhibited the most dignity. The prize is $5,000. Want to give it a go?" she said. Before I could explain that I'm not a magician, my bracelet urged me to say yes. The urge became overwhelming as my necklace tightened up at my neck. Becca was looking at me strangely. "I'll join the nominators," Becca said, and she winked at me. What had my bracelet told her, I wondered? "Can I bring an assistant? Or two?" I asked, winking at Becca. I had no idea what would happen, but somehow my bracelet was managing to fill me with confidence. Becca knew I was including the guy she had picked up, whose name was Dan (the one with the big nose and whose cock size was yet to be determined). ** The first two people did standard magic shows, which I, for one, was dazzled by, being unable to detect out how the tricks were done. They both met applause which was a little warmer than polite, but nothing compared to the raucous reactions when I had been naked on the stage earlier. Now here I was, going third, for the second time. Just my welcome was rip roaring enthusiastic, and I panicked as I had no idea what I was going to do! I was leaving it up to the trilogy of my ring, my bracelet, and my necklace. Stunned, I was amazed to see my necklace float up above my head and transform itself into what looked exactly like my imagination of what a magic wand would look like! The wand floated down to my right hand, and I grabbed it, to already thunderous applause. I did, however, feel the applause was anticipatory, for what was to come! Not knowing what to do, I bowed to the audience, showing off my boobs to the crowd once again as I gave them a rather spectacular downlook down my largely unbuttoned blouse. I pointed the wand at Becca and she began to float, and she floated up into the air, and ended up with her legs on Dan's shoulders, her panties-covered pussy right at Dan's mouth! My wand jerked in my hand and Becca's panties suddenly were in my left hand. Dan was now eating Becca out enthusiastically, up on the stage, in front of everyone at the party! Even more amazing, Becca seemed fine with it all! I saw Rod and Colm in the audience, trying to lead the crowd in a chant. Next, I heard the crowd yelling, 'Michelle! Take it off!' I once again had no idea what to do, but the wand floated out of my hand, pointed itself at me, and presto, I was stark naked again! I was embarrassed, but since I had already become naked in the sexy competition, I managed a little aplomb and smiled at the audience and took a bow. Suddenly, Becca was back on the stage, standing, and a bit red in the face, and Dan was soaking wet around his mouth, and I was dressed again. The MC came up to me, and he was stunned. "This is the best magic I have ever seen! How did you do it?" I just smiled. A little later, as it turned out, I won the magic competition, and before I managed to lose my clothes a third time, Becca and I decided to leave. We had Rod and Colm in tow, and also Dan. We all went to my place. I was still troubled by the déjà vu; it was such a persistent feeling! Back home, the five us of smoked a little weed, and drank either Bourbon, Scotch, or Tequila, depending on one's taste. I'm a Tequila girl, myself. Rod and Colm went for the Bourbon, Dan went for the Scotch, and Becca just kept smoking. The obvious began. Dan and Becca were on the couch, and they started making out a bit. It was just kissing, and Dan was feeling up Becca's boobs through her clothes, but it was enough for Rod to get started with me. I had decided tonight was the night Rod would get what he had been wanting, but I was a bit put off by Colm being there. I knew I wasn't put off enough by Colm being there, and that troubled me. I was having meta discomfort! Becca and Dan were in their own world, and I guessed they would soon move to my bedroom, and they did. I was now alone with Rod and Colm and Rod was kissing me, then Colm would turn my head and he would kiss me, and then Rod again, and then Colm again, and I was beginning to get dizzy. Each man had his own style, and as they kissed me, my clothes gradually left my body. Rod had rendered me naked on our previous date, but we didn't have sex, at least not in the Biblical sense. Colm had already seen me naked, along with everyone else at the Halloween party, but this was different because it was in an intimate setting. As if to underscore the intimacy, I quickly had four hands exploring every square inch of my body. Rod went for my boobs, and Colm went for my feet. It was pretty clear Colm had a foot fetish. I mean, the loving way he was caressing my feet, kissing my toes, complimenting me on my toenail polish, and just caressing them beautifully, over and over again, left no doubt at all about his fetish. I was proud of my toenail polish. I had a fly painted onto each of my big toes. Classy, right? That's when it happened. I realized this had happened to me before. When I had gone to that party at Purdue, seven years earlier, when I was only eighteen, two men had taken me to a bedroom and had begun to make out with me. I had been up for it, eager to experience sex, and the two of them had teamed up to get me naked, save for my panties, and then one man went for my boobs, while the other went for my feet, and all the while they were both kissing me, sometimes on the mouth, other times anywhere they wanted to kiss me. It had all happened before. The problem was I could not remember the faces nor the names of the two men. I didn't even remember having had sex with them, although it was of course obvious I did, since I became pregnant. The only thing I could remember was the word "Cod." Now I was living through the same experience. Was it possible it was a coincidence? I stood up, pushing them away. "Where were you, seven years ago?" I asked. "What?" they replied together. OMG, Colm + Rod? Could that be the mythical Cod? Was it these two men to whom I gave my virginity? Did they both enjoy me -- that way -- or was it just one of them? I shivered at the thought that my first (and only) time could have been a threesome! I was back on the floor. Colm was still going at it with my feet, but Rod apparently was a more conventional man. Rod removed my panties (I raised my hips to help him do it, even) and subsequently he was spreading my legs. Colm now (finally!) left my feet and moved to my mouth and my tits. Uh-oh, it was showtime. Rod was fingering me as if he were a brain surgeon, as it seemed to be his fingers had extraordinary delicacy and talent! I knew I was turned on; hell, everyone did. I could hear the sloshing sounds of my own lubrication. I hoped Rod was the kind of guy who would replace his fingers with something else, something a little bigger perhaps, at some point? I was on the pill. I was ready. I was more than ready! Hell, I was eager. Rod must have read my mind. It's also possible he had simultaneous, independent discovery of what turned out to be -- quite simply -- a wonderful idea. He adjusted his body, getting into position, and while I didn't actually lay eyes on his cock, it was no secret to me where it was, and where it was about to go! I felt as if this were my first time. In some sense, it was, since I had no memory of the sexual act the only other time, when I had become pregnant. My goodness, it felt wonderful. Rod entered me and I lost it. I tried to speak, but Colm's tongue was in my mouth. I was reduced to moaning. Rod's cock sliding into me, and then sliding back out, or almost back out, and then plunging back in, slowly increasing the speed, was sending ripples of some special kind of pleasure running through my body. I was bucking my pelvis up and down to match his thrusts. My enthusiasm was unbridled. I didn't fully comprehend it all at the time, but having one man give you a fuck from heaven, while another man was playing with your tits and kissing you, was -- for me -- perfection itself. It was only around two minutes after the fuck began when I climaxed, moaning into Colm's mouth, as his tongue was engaged with mine. I could feel Colm's hard cock against my outer thigh as Rod repeatedly plunged his cock into me. I knew I could never forget this! Rod had never asked where to cum, but I was glad when he chose to cum inside me, just like the mythical "Cod" must have done seven years earlier. When he was done, there was still Colm, as hard as a rock, looking at me expectantly. I figured he wanted to fuck me too, and as I was wondering if I could emotionally deal with that, my bracelet once again entered my head. I knew what to do. I moved around so that I held Colm's thick dick between my feet, and I caressed it with my toes. I had never done anything like this before, nor had I ever even thought about doing it, and yet, it seemed familiar, as if I had done it before. It's not the same as jerking off a guy, because your feet can't grab the cock, unless you're a monkey or something. It's just fondling and gently caressing, but with your toes, with my elegant nail polish, and not my fingers. Luckily, I had enjoyed a wonderful pedicure, just by chance, two days earlier, so my feet were all smooth and feminine. Funny, I had splurged for the pedicure on impulse, which is not like me. Could it have been due to my ring, too? Colm, to my surprise, squirted up into the air, just from the caresses of my toes and feet! After he squirted, Rod moved me around, and he fucked me a second time! This time he lasted a good, long time, maybe twenty minutes or more, and by the time he finished, I realized I had an audience of three naked people: Dan, Rebecca, and Colm. Rebecca was sitting on the couch in between Dan and Colm, and she had her right hand wrapped around Dan's cock, and her left hand wrapped around Colm's thick cock, and she was jerking them both, and at the same time! Whoa, Rebecca! You go, girl! I was super turned on that the three of them had watched us fuck. I was tempted to fuck Colm, too, but he seemed happy as it was, so I just relaxed and enjoyed the afterglow of Rod's amazing second fuck, which had driven me to two more orgasms. I think I dozed off a bit. ** "You know, sweet Michelle, you remind me of my dream girl," Rod said, when we were all awake and dressed, at least to some extent. I had my panties and a T-shirt on, no bra, and so too did Becca who had borrowed one of my T shirts, and the men were back in their Halloween costumes. "That's nice, I suppose. What happened to your dream girl? Maybe you should be fucking her instead of me?" I said, showing my annoyance at Rod's idiotic remark. Ignoring my remark made in anger, Rod continued, "It was seven years ago. Colm and I went to a Halloween party at Purdue. We were students at Butler University in Indianapolis, but Purdue had the famous Halloween party. Girls went to it from all over. Anyway, we got lucky, and met this super-hot freshman. She too was named Michelle. She had a pretty face, similar to yours, but a very different body. I was smitten." "How was her body different?" I asked. "This will sound crude, but she wasn't built like you, my lovely. She was flat chested, and had almost no ass. I didn't care, because she was totally my dream girl. It was love at first sight, maybe for both of us," Rod said. "Did she fuck like me?" I asked. "Funny you should ask. Yes, exactly! And she was a virgin, too, at the time," Rod said. "Her feet were like yours, too," Colm piped up. "Her adorable little toes curled up when Rod fucked her. I kissed her while Rod and her fucked, just as I did with you, and she didn't mind at all. She seemed up for anything with the two of us. We've never met another girl like her, ever again, until tonight." "Did you both fuck her?" I asked. "Well, first she played with my cock with her toes. That's when I developed my foot fetish, I guess. Maybe I had always had it, I don't know. But yes, after Rod fell asleep, I fucked her, too. Boy, could she fuck! She was my first, you know. Rod had been around the block, but Michelle was my first girl, ever," Colm said. "You never forget your first. I'll never forget my second, either," he added, looking me in the eyes, then letting his eyes wander down to my toes. "Some people forget their first," Becca said from the couch, and I shot her a death ray with my eyes. "What happened after that night? Did you continue to date her?" I asked. I had always wondered why I had never heard from the guys who fucked me at that Halloween party, seven years earlier. "Oh, I tried," Rod said. "Every weekend I'd head up to Purdue, looking for her. I'd party hop, hoping to find her at a party, and I'd walk around the campus looking for her. She never told us her last name, or anything, basically. I never found her. Colm looked, too." "I sure did. We spent the last two years of college looking for her, it seemed," Colm added. "Really?" I felt much better to hear that. "Listen, Michelle, you helped me get over my fixation on my dream girl from college. I'd love to keep dating you. May I?" Rod asked. "Yes," I said. "Can I come along on the date?" Colm asked. "No," Rod and I said together. Colm looked crestfallen, the poor guy. "Look, Colm, how about we meet up, the three of us, for brunch some Sunday, and I'll wear open toed sandals, and play footsie with you under the table? I mean if Rod is okay with it?" I offered. Colm's face brightened up considerably. We both looked at Rod. He nodded. Com exhaled, and he replied, "I'd love that." ** "Why didn't you tell Rod and Colm you were their dream girl from seven years ago? It's obvious you were," Becca asked me, when we met the next day for lunch. "I want Rod to like me for me, not because I'm the incarnation of some fantasy he's been having since forever," I said. "And I certainly never want to tell him he knocked me up that night. If it was him. It seems Colm fucked me, too." "So it sounds like you're taken with Rod," Becca said. "It seems so, at least for now. He's quite a strange guy, you know, and I'm not sure I like strange," I said. "Are you okay with me seducing Colm?" Rebecca asked. "Sure, it would relieve the pressure on me, to fuck him, too, which is not going to happen; but what happened to Dan?" I asked. "It turns out Dan is married. His wife was out of town. It's too bad," Becca said. "How was his cock?" I asked. "You saw it; it didn't live up to the promise of his big nose, alas. When it was inside me, however, it was perfection itself. I came three times during one of his fucks alone!" she said. "How many times did he fuck you?" I asked. "Four. Can you believe it?" "Four??!? You didn't have time for four fucks!" I exclaimed. "He drove me home, remember?" "Oh. Right," I said. "You going to keep seeing him, on the down low?" "No way, no how. He wants to see keep seeing me, but I don't fuck married men. Knowingly, that is," she said. "Right." "Colm, on the other hand..." "He's all yours," I said. "I promised him, though, to fondle his cock with my toes at brunch on Sunday. Say, why don't you join us? My toes will get him going, and then you can fuck him?" "Where, in the ladies' room of the brunch place?" Becca sarcastically asked. "Sure, why not?" I replied. "Michelle, your new jewelry is giving you one hell of a dirty mind!" Becca said. "You need to get a grip." ** "Are you here to return the jewelry?" Vikki nervously asked, when Becca and I showed up at her store. "No, I'm keeping it. Fabulous stuff," I said. Vikki smiled, and it seemed to be a smile of relief. Becca was wandering around the store, checking out some dining tables.

"I have a question, Vikki," I began. Vikki encouraged me, so I told her the story; all of it. "Has your memory of your first time returned yet?" she asked. "No, and I still don't know why, but that's not the question," I said. Vikki waited patiently, and I continued. "The ring and the bracelet wanted Becca and me to go to a club, the week before Halloween, and so we did. There I met the very same Rod and Colm I've just told you about. My question is this: Could the ring and bracelet have somehow known about my Halloween deflowering seven years earlier, and arranged somehow -- I have no idea how -- for me to meet the two men again?" "No, of course not. The ring and bracelet couldn't possibly have those extraordinary powers, such as you ascribe to them," Vikki replied. "Okay, then," I said, relieved in a way. It would be scary if this had all been a set-up via the jewelry. Becca interrupted. "Is this Louis XIII buffet enchanted? I'd like to have a man be compelled to fuck me, bent over a beautiful buffet like this one." The price, I had noted earlier, was $4,000. It's a good thing Becca is rich! Vikki and Becca discussed things for a while. I heard Vikki remind Becca that she didn't know which items were charmed, and which were not. "This other buffet, also Louis XIII, however, should do the trick. It was returned for just that reason. So many men had fucked the woman who bought it, that she was going crazy. She claimed almost every man who entered her house fucked her, including her neighbor and his son, and both of them at the same time! Every man, that is, but her husband. I can let you have it for $100." "Sounds perfect. I'll take it," Becca said, as I just stared at her. Becca could really surprise me at times. "Colm," Becca said to me, as if that were an explanation, upon seeing my stare of incomprehension. Vikki smiled broadly. I made a mental note to keep Rod out of Becca's apartment. Vikki then turned to me. "No, the ring and bracelet could not have arranged for you to meet this guy Rod in a club. No, that would have to have been the doings of the necklace. You see, you need the added power of the gemstones for that kind of magic. I'm sure my Great Aunt Elizabeth would be thrilled to hear about your subsequent happiness. We have some ruby and jade encrusted earrings, too, if you're interested?" My story begins when I was a teenage girl, 18 years old. My Mother was divorced from my Father and he was out of the picture. She worked two full- time jobs, and she was concerned about me being alone much of the time. She asked my 28 year old neighbor to stop by the house frequently to check on me. Little did she know that he was "checking" on my insides with his bare cock. When he first approached me he explained that it would be a serious problem if I were to get pregnant, and he said he had a way we could do it without any worries, if I would trust him. I knew what he had in mind, but I played innocent and said OK. We began with some kissing and foreplay, and soon we were both naked. His cock was a little larger than average, maybe seven or seven and a half inches long, but just the normal thickness. I was glad for that, because my teenage asshole was small and tight. I had never had anything up my ass, not even a finger, and here we were planning to shove his meat-pole up in me. We looked for some lube but all we had in the bathroom was the old standard Vaseline. I know you are not supposed to use it, because it is petroleum based, but it was all we had. I was happy that we found it, because without any lube I don't think he could have gotten it in me. He made me put the Vaseline on his cock, and play with it while it got bigger and harder. I put the Vaseline mostly on the head of his cock, but I put some on the shaft to make sure it would go in OK. I slid my hand back and forth on it like I thought guys did when they jacked off. He finally asked me if I thought it was hard enough to go up my ass, and I said I guess so. He got me up on my knees, with my butt sticking up in the air, and put the tip of his cock against my asshole. He pushed hard, and because of the Vaseline it slid in. I think I shrieked when it slid into me, but once it was past the tight entrance it felt OK. He fucked me slowly until he came, and I was surprised that I could feel the cum squirt into me. I knew that semen came out of a mans cock, but I always had thought it just ran out or oozed out. I did not know until then that it shot out in rapid-fire spurts. I liked the way it felt then, and I still do. We did it several more times that day, and after that day my asshole was sore for a while, but it was permanently stretched, and the Vaseline was never needed again. He was turned on by my innocence, and that is what led me to do what I do with my new boyfriends today. The main part of my story will follow now, so I will just say that my neighbor fucked me in the ass many times that year. I am glad we decided to do it anally, because if I had taken all the semen he produced in my vagina instead of up my asshole, I would have become just another pregnant teenager. I am now a 29 year old woman, and I have vaginal sex sometimes, but I definitely prefer it in my ass. I am not promiscuous, I am with one guy at a time, and my relationships last for a couple of years or more, but eventually one or both of us want to move on. I have a little trick that I have used with all four of my lovers, and it works to perfection. Even in today's liberal atmosphere, most men prefer an inexperienced, shy and modest woman, so that they can feel they are in control and they lead the way. When I get together with a new guy, I do not do this right away, I wait until we have had sex a few times, and then when the time seems right I go into my little act. When we are in bed and just beginning foreplay, I ask them in a quiet way if they have ever fucked a woman in the ass. Some guys will say yes, some will say no, some will not answer at all. It does not matter, I continue on and say that I am curious about it, and I would like to try it, but I am afraid it might be uncomfortable or even painful. I ask in a shy way if they would do it to me, but I beg them to be careful and gentle. I have always gotten an enthusiastic "Yes" to this request. I lay face down in what I assume would be the position a first-timer would go to, and I keep my legs fairly close together, not spread wide open. Again, I am playing the modest virgin. This causes him to put his legs outside of mine, and when he starts to move toward my ass I reach back with both hands and spread my butt for him. I am careful not to spread it too hard, because I want to look small and tight. When I feel the tip of his cock touch my anus, I quiver with anticipation. When he pushes the head in, I flinch and gasp, and every guy I have been with has been considerate enough to ask if it is too painful. Even though I am really in blissful ecstasy, I act as if it is uncomfortable, but I say it is OK, please don't stop. Most of my guys have pushed it in slowly, a little at a time. One of them became too aggressive and started to fuck me hard and fast. I stopped him and asked him to do it slowly and steadily, sliding it in and out the way I like it. I know some people insist on condoms, but not me. I like to feel a bare cock in me, and most important, I like to receive the load of cum deep up inside me. I know about the dangers of STD, especially AIDS, but like I said, I am into serial monogamy. I am exclusive with one guy, always for many years, and I get him to agree to be exclusive with me. I do not know why they would cheat, I fuck their brains out. I always find that a compliment makes a guy feel good, so I say something like "your cock is so big, I can feel it way up in my stomach". When he cums in me for the first time, I say "I can feel your cum squirting into me!" as if it is the first time I have had a load pumped into me. Of course it isn't, I have been doing this since I was 18. Some guys have shot it so far up my ass that I could almost taste it. After this "first" time, we continue our relationship with frequent fucks up my ass. I admit that I love it. It is now so erotic for me that I usually come when I feel his cum spurting into me. You may feel that I am dishonest, but I do not do this in a nasty, deceitful way, it is just a little act, and I think it gets the relationship off to a good start. The guy feels like he was the first one to shove his cock up my asshole. He feels like he is the one who stretched my asshole out and filled it with cum for the first time, and I am just his sweet and innocent girlfriend. It builds his ego, and it is very erotic for me, losing my "virginity" every time I am with a new guy. When and if my current situation comes to an end, I will be looking for a new guy to hook up with. I hope he is not reading this, because I want him to buy into my act. _My take on taking advantage of the need to relieve sexual tension during the coivid-19 lockdown. Everyone in the story is over eighteen. Comments and votes are greatly appreciated._ * Like many others, I was stuck at home alone due to the coronavirus or as President Trump liked to call it the Chinese Virus. From there, I started thinking about the apocryphal Chinese Curse, 'May you live in interesting times.' In fact, it turns out the saying is of English origin and no actual Chinese source has ever been produced. But the idea of finding my 'blessing in disguise' stayed in the back of my mind. I sat back for a break to surf the porn net and started thinking of all the others who, like me, were in seclusion ranging from self isolation to quarantine. They would be a little bit frustrated and with time on their hands so to speak, while at the same time my own hands were busy relieving the stress brought on from watching an especially hot bisexual mfm scene. It could have stopped there, but as I was cleaning up, a trailer for Ready Player One flashed across my video monitor. That was my Eureka moment, when I started thinking about the possibility of merging Virtual Reality and sex aids. The rest, as they say, is history. With the covid-19 lockdown, there were tens of thousands of suddenly unemployed young millennials, gen Xers and even some boomers waiting for their two grand from Uncle Sam. If I could put together an affordable integration of VR and 'personal pleasure toys' it could provide gratification to those in isolation, make a little coin for me, and at the same time help in maintaining social distancing. In reviewing the VR domain, it was obvious that at present, there was nothing close to the Ready Player One suits and decks. Some of the newer high-end suits were definitely on the right track but they were way out of the price range of my target demographic. Accordingly, rather than a full-on Harry Potter flying broomstick Quidditch experience, I wanted to use existing commercial VR headsets and 3D sex porn to provide optical and auditory stimulation, which would then be integrated with programmable remote sex toys to provide a visual, acoustic and physically tactile experience focused on the genital and erogenous zones to relieve built-up sexual frustration. I can operate a computer and find my way through most of the apps on my cell phone, but I am not a programmer. However, thanks to my misspent first year at the college, I had come across a few whiz kids who both partied and flew through first year. In particular, I remembered Fred Appy, a poor card player who always seemed to have money to lose because he had a side business designing and programming websites and apps for local businesses. We'd visited the occasional strip bar together and I knew that Fred too had a penchant for porn sites. So, I shot him a kik asking if he could program an android app to sync input from a VR headset to remote control sex toys down below. He replied with a three-page email, which boiled down to yes but they had to be Bluetooth 4.0 and above. After a few more emails and video conferences, our new enterprise was born. As the largest erogenous zone in a human being lies between the ears, a good headset with above average video and sound was crucial to my proposed VR erogination. As most of my target clientele were financially strapped, few would have the computers required for the high-end VR input. Many would be gamers and would have game consoles, but the gaming platforms were brand specific. However, virtually all would have cell phones and most of these would be android. Several online reviews gave surprisingly good marks to an android coupled headset. You could download the VR porn on your laptop, copy it to a memory stick and run it from your android phone. We purchased a couple of units to test it with some of the available VR porn and even without the stimulation down under, it kept me rock hard for the duration of the show. In fact, to paraphrase Tom Waits, I barely managed to refrain from taking advantage of myself. Additionally, many sex toys could be controlled from an android phone. So, both a platform and accessories were available, the problem was to get them to talk to each other to maintain and enhance the user's pleasure. But for Appy this was a piece of cake. As our initial target market was male, penile stimulation was paramount. In assessing available options Fred and I both agreed that a cock sleeve would provide the most complete coverage. They were a bit pricey, but cock was the crux of our client's focus and both the soft and hardware had to be top drawer. Plus, there were at least two good models available. Both could be android controlled and had sync capability. Appy was ecstatic and noted that the same firms also had an inbox stuffed with similar products for women which could double our market penetration. We were less sure about anal toys but decided that in Greece do as the Greeks do. Again, the toy manufacturers had a range of products available. In the end, we decided to go with a combination butt plug and prostate stimulator to provide the most complete whole-body experience. We debated adding nipple clamps but decided to hold off on them to start, letting our clients handle that erogenous zone manually. A few weeks later we had completed beta tests on ourselves and some friends and arranged mutually acceptable agreements with the manufacturers and distributors of our featured toys. Initial test market launches were going well, and we'd made arrangements to sell Appy's Handy App though several download sites. The first week was slow but then sales soared with no sign of curve flattening yet. Then the toy makers remarked that many of our clients had wearable fitness tracking devices which measured body movement, pulse and breathing rates and in some cases more. They asked if Fred could modify the app to include this feedback. Appy thought this was a great idea and then threw in an AI program to use this feedback to maximize the time the client would be on the verge of climax: _edging_ he called it. Two days later, Fred died of a massive stroke while working with the app in alpha testing. It might have been the virus, but we were unable to get him tested post-mortem. However, he had a smile on his face, and it was decided not to release the enhanced product until all the bugs are worked out. _This is a (slight) continuation of "A Is For Anal". It is not totally necessary to read that before this, although my personal view is that you should._ Like all the stories that will come in this 'alphabet' series, this story is largely true although names of people and places have been changed and it is set in the current age although they happened to me over the past twenty five years. Bon appetit! So there I am in the staff room of Peroni's Nightclub, my trousers and boxers pooled at my ankles, with the beautiful Julie - slightly sweaty, but now properly attired- beside me when my wife Angela walks in. Actually, to be exact, she was my soon-to-be-ex-wife, after I caught her in bed fucking my former-best-friend. Angela stopped abruptly - and her jaw hit the floor. She took in the angelic body that is Julie, flicked across to my softening cock and then back to Julie. For a brief instant anger flashed across her eyes, before she recalled her own infidelity and forced herself to swallow her ire. "Who's this?" she asked, nodding at Julie. "This is a close friend of mine, Julie. Julie this is my ex Angela," I introduced them to each other as though this was an every day occurrence. Angela glanced at my cock again. "A very close friend, I see!" she said. I shrugged. "What's good for the goose..." I had Angela over a barrel; she could hardly criticise me for doing what she had been caught doing. She acknowledged this and said: "Can we talk? In private?" Julie smoothed her skirt, tossed her hair into that tousled look and smiled at me. "Hey, don't mind me, I was going anyway." She kissed me then, her tongue darting between my lips, her hand snaking down to give my cock a farewell squeeze. "Catch you later," she breathed, forcing blood to start pumping around my groin again. I watched her sashay out of the staff room, then bent to re-fix my trousers. For a short time there was silence, and knowing how uncomfortable that would make my cheating wife feel I refused to break it. She coughed, swallowed, licked her lips; and finally spoke. "Look, is there some place we can go, you know sit down for a chat?" "The Function Suite is empty, we could go there only..." I checked my watch. "It'll have to wait till I've finished. Half past one?" She nodded her assent, and I strolled past her and out into the club, where I stood with the guys at the door, and told them what had just happened. They didn't believe me at first, but something in my manner made them realise I wasn't shitting them. I could tell by their faces that they were being eaten up by jealousy. I smirked to myself. The remainder of the evening was trouble-free and uneventful and by twenty past one we had the doors shut and locked. Myself, and the other doormen Barney, Barry and John, did a final sweep of the cloakrooms and corridors as we made our way back upstairs to the bar for a couple of refreshing pints. It was only as I downed the first that I remembered Angela, presumably still sitting in the function suite waiting for me. I sighed heavily and started across the dance floor. "Where you off?" called Barry I shrugged helplessly, said the one word 'Angela' and pointed to the function suite doors which was enough for the guys to get the picture. Inside the suite, the house lights were all off leaving just the white emergency lights to show that Angela was sat against the far wall, drinking and smoking. I decided there was no point in beating around the bush. "What do you want Angela?" I asked. She went to reply, then her lips started to tremble, her eyes filled and she just let go; huge wailing sobs that at first embarrassed me, but then - almost against my will- made me feel for her. I sat down next to her, handed her my handkerchief and waited for her to stop crying and start talking. Eventually she did - and it was pretty much what I expected. She was so, SO, sorry, it was a stupid one-off mistake. It was dumb - SHE was dumb. Could I ever forgive her and so on and so forth. After about five minutes of non-stop apologising and grovelling she tailed off. I had yet to say anything. I let the silence hang around for a good twenty seconds before I spoke. "You've hurt me Angela. I mean really hurt me. I don't know if I can forgive you." "Please, Kenny, please!" she implored. "I'll do anything you want, just give me another chance." Anything? She did just say anything, didn't she? A nasty thought crossed my mind - a way to punish her and get my rocks off at the same time. I looked at her and made my decision. "Wait here a minute," I said. She was puzzled but sat still as I left and returned to the main bar, to the guys. I pulled them to one side. "How would you guys like a bit of ass?" I asked. "Is Julie still here?" Barney asked glancing aound. I shook my head. "But my wife is. I'm gonna' teach her a lesson and you guys can be part of it, if you want to that is." All three of them nodded their heads rapidly - huge grins on their faces. I motioned for them to follow me into the function suite. Angela was still where I had left her, still dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief. She looked puzzled and extremely wary when she spotted the four of us coming over to her. She looked at me, her eyes questioning. "Right, you said you'll do anything for my forgiveness?" She nodded, slowly and unsurely. "Cool." I started to unzip my flies as I sat down next to her. Realisation began to dawn on her. "No, Kenny, you can't be serious? In front of the guys?" I nodded. "Take your skirt and your panties off, get down on your knees and start sucking my cock. Oh, and keep sucking until I come, because tonight, my darling wife, you are going to swallow my cum all the way down." "Okay, okay I'll do it - but not in front of them." I shook my head. "I want them to see you suck me off. I want them to see the pussy that you gave to my best friend and then, Angela... And then I want them to experience what I experienced with Julie before you walked in on us. Now show them your cunt. With a sob, she got up and shucked off her jacket. Fumblingly she undid her skirt clasp and stepped out of it. Underneath she was wearing the white panties and garter set I had bought her for Christmas. The other guys nodded their heads in approval at the delicious sight before them. "Now the panties," I ordered. With great reluctance, she pulled them down and off revealing her bushy auburn pussy. ( I swear that at this point Barney actually started to drool). I pointed my hard cock up at her and she got down on her knees, took a deep breath and started to suck me off. God it felt good. "Very nice, honey, keep going. Oh, and spread your legs cos you've got a couple of surprises coming your way. Over her shoulder I nodded at the guys an they quickly began tearing their pants off. Without stopping her oral treatment of my cock, Angela looking up at me, pleading with her eyes. "Sorry, honey, they need some release. I told them about me and Julie and they were very jealous... and horny. You are going to help them out. I'm gonna' let them do to you what I did to her." I turned to the guys who by now had their cocks out and pointing to the ceiling. " There you go guys... your turn to fuck a woman's ass." Immediately Angela pulled her mouth off my cock and stared at me in horror. "You fucked that slut up the ass?" I grinned. "Yes and now you are sucking me clean, which is very nice of you. Now get back to work." I grabbed her head and forced her mouth back onto my cock. She wrestled free again. " I am NOT getting fucked up the ass. You know how I hate that." Which is true because she had always refused me in the past - but now was the time for her to be persuaded otherwise. I nodded at Barney, who got down on his knees behind Angela and started fingering her pussy. "Fuck, she's soaking, Kenny," he grunted as he worked first two then three fingers into her snatch." Angela moaned - I think in pleasure and then her eyes popped wide open as Barney started to push his cock against her tight ass. A grunt and then a pop of air and Barney was in. He grinned like a medal winner at the Olympics as he slowly pushed his not-inconsiderable length into my wife's ass. Gamely Angela kept on sucking my cock as Barney plundered her behind. Unfortunately the excitement was too much for him and inside a minute he started to pump faster and faster before he shot his load with a bellow like a bull. I saw the look of surprise on Angela's face as, for the first time in her life, she felt hot sperm spew into her bowels. The thought of Angela's asshole looking just like Julie's had done earlier was enough to send me on the final downhill slalom. " Here it comes, baby, get ready to swallow," I said as I pushed my cock as far into her mouth as I could get it. She started to baulk and then I was cumming - shooting my white stuff deep into my wife's mouth. Having shot my bolt with Julie just a few hours ago, there wasn't all that much, but she still struggled with it. "Swallow," I ordered. With a grimace she did as I asked. By this time, Barry had got down on the floor and was starting to poke his cock into her ass. Though not as long as Barney he was much thicker and Angela actually shrieked as he got his first inch and a half into her crack. Concerned about the noise I got John to swap places with me and shove his dick into her mouth. I stood back against the wall and watched my wife suck on John's cock whilst Barry's was fucking her asshole. It truly was a memorable sight, especially when, after a couple of minutes she seemed to begin to get really into it and started pushing back at Barry whilst frantically trying to get John's cock all the way down her gullet. With excellent timing John and Barry peaked together dousing Angela with cum at both ends. Despite there being no mention of swallowing John's load, that was exactly what she did, gulping away like it was the tastiest thing in the world. Barry pulled out of her ass and I bent down to have a good look, seeing his white goo dripping out of her red, swollen and gaping rear end. Fuck that was a horny sight and he began to feel the tell-tale throbbing in my cock again. When she finally released John's cock she sighed heavily and collapsed on the floor - a cum-soaked slut. But one who hadn't got anywhere near to cumming herself. "Come on Ken," she pleaded, " can I get some too?" I shook my head. " Get yourself off... while we watch." This was a woman who very rarely let me see her naked and had always denied ever masturbating, but here, on the floor of a nightclub in front of her husband and three of his work colleagues, who had just used her like a whore, she began to frig her clitoris with her left hand while her right hand pulled at her pussy lips. " Watch me," she breathed heavily. "Stare at me while I toss myself off." Well there was certainly no problem in following that suggestion. So we stood there - all four of us - naked below the waist yet still wearing our shirts and black bow ties, and watched as my wife frigged away at herself. Faster and faster her hands went as she looked at us watching her, then she grunted, groaned and actually ejaculated all over the carpet - a stain which never, ever came out incidentally and was still there three years later when I stopped working there. The other three wanted to go around again and sample other orifices which they hadn't tried. I refused them. Angela had had enough. After that night, two things happened. Firstly I moved back in with Angela and we had a good, normal marriage after that. Secondly, the experience had woken something inside her and our sex life, which had been pretty staid and conformist, got more and more outrageous over time. Some of the things we got up to are good enough to be included in other parts of this alphabet. _Next up: C is For Cock_

"So, what brings you here?" the hypnotist asks. He gives his new client, Mike, a friendly smile. He hopes Mike will prove a suitable candidate for his little personal experiment. Mike is in his early thirties, blonde, short-cropped hair, and his tight shirt reveals that he regularly works out. The sleeves are tight around his biceps, and his nipples are poking through the fabric, showing off his broad chest. He sits back on the couch, his legs spread comfortably, and he shrugs. "I tried everything else," he replies. "You know, to quit smoking." "And why do you want to quit smoking?" Another shrug. "Well, health reasons, obviously." Then he rolls his eyes. "And because so many chicks hate it, which makes getting pussy annoying sometimes. Like, I work out, I take care of myself, can't a guy live a little? But no, moment some chick at the gym sees me grab a cigarette, she looks at me like I'm a massive creep." He lets out a huge sigh. The hypnotist nods. "Sounds like that's been frustrating you for some time." With some luck, he can channel that frustration into a better outlet. "Hell yeah!" Mike exclaims. "Like, I'm only after a quick fuck, if she asks nicely I won't even light up immediately afterwards. I mean, uhm." He coughs. "Not that I'm not getting plenty of pussy even with the smoking, but, y'know." He shrugs again. "Wouldn't mind getting more." "You spend a lot of time at the gym?" the hypnotist asks. "Yeah, an hour or so every day, after work. More in the weekend. It's where all the hot chicks are, in those tight yoga pants... I swear, whoever invented those is the fucking best." Mike grins. "And you prefer the gym to meet women?" the hypnotist asks. "Not a bar? A dating app?" "Oh, those work too, but hey, while I'm there I might as well try and get some pussy, right? Not like I'm the only one." He snorts. "Of course, some guys have completely the wrong idea and try to hit on me. I put them straight pretty quickly." He laughs. "Heh, straight. Get it?" The hypnotist gives him a polite smile. Yes, Mike is a perfect candidate for his experiments. They have been going well. Mike's hardly the first guy the hypnotist has treated. They all come in, talking big about wanting to score pussy, but it usually takes just one session to make them crave something else entirely. "Anyway, I get why they hit on me." Mike spreads his arms. "I mean, it's kinda flattering, but no way would I fuck a guy when I can get pussy." "We are here to help you with your smoking habit, though," the hypnotist reminds him, eager to get started. "So, why don't you relax, and focus on your breathing? It's easier if you close your eyes." "What, you're not gonna swing a watch or something?" Mike asks. The hypnotist resists the urge to roll his eyes. So clichéd. "No, using your own breathing as a focal point is more effective. Now, relax, Mike, and count to four as you breathe in through your nose, and to four as you exhale through your mouth." He counts out loud as Mike does so, and he's pleased when Mike obeys and closes his eyes, his breathing slowing down. He watches Mike relax, sagging down on the couch. "Right, now I'm going to put on some soothing music. It'll help you relax and reach a deeper state of hypnosis. It'll make the session more effective," the hypnotist says. The music is a mixture of white noise, binaural beats and a pulsing bass, like a heartbeat. He has developed it especially for these special sessions. He walks Mike through relaxing his body, starting at his feet and up through his legs, his waist, his arms, his shoulders, and his head. He talks Mike through imagining himself sinking deeper and deeper, until he's surrounded by darkness, floating calmly. He asks Mike about which gym he goes to, and Mike's response is slow and sluggish, and it's obvious he's under deep enough for the hypnotist to start properly. "Now, Mike, you came here because you're addicted to cigarettes, right?" "...Right." "Picture one in your hand. The way it feels in your hand as you hold it. The way it tastes as you put it to your lips. The way it smells, that hit when you take your first drag, sucking on it," the hypnotist continues. Mike lets out a happy groan. "Exactly. Feels good, doesn't it?" "...Yes." "Wouldn't it be better," the hypnotist continues, "if it were bigger? Longer? Thicker? Warmer?" "...Yes," Mike replies, but there's an unsure tone to it. "Yes, it is," the hypnotist quickly assures him. "Yes, it would be better if it were bigger, and thicker. That's what you want to hold, and suck on. Something better than cigarettes." "...Yes." Mike's tone is more sure now. The hypnotist smiles. "Exactly. So that is what we'll channel your addiction to cigarettes into. Something better. Something healthier. Something that'll make you a lot happier, Mike. Something with plenty of protein to keep you strong. Isn't that what you want?" "...Yes." Even though Mike is under, there's a hint of enthusiasm. "So, from now on, you won't crave cigarettes anymore," the hypnotist says. "You'll crave dick." He waits for a reaction, but Mike remains silent. Good. He's definitely listening and taking this in. "You will crave dick. You will think about sucking cock like you think about smoking a cigarette. You will look forward to sucking dick, to holding a thick cock, to smelling its musky scent, to touching it with your lips, to wrapping your lips around it and letting it slide deeper," the hypnotist continues. "Sucking dick will give you that same rush a cigarette used to. You will swallow cum eagerly. Right?" "...Right." The hypnotist repeats his commands a few times, then has Mike repeat them back to him. "Now go on, once I release you, how will you feel? What will you do instead of wanting cigarettes?" "Crave dick," Mike intones. "I will want to suck cock and swallow cum. I will look forward to sucking cock and swallowing cum. I will feel good sucking cock and swallowing cum." The hypnotist smiles, and reinforces the changed connection, to make sure that Mike's cigarette addiction is entirely rerouted to an addiction to, well, dick. He brings Mike out of his trance slowly, and turns off the music before pulling him out completely. Mike blinks when he opens his eyes, looking refreshed. "Huh, feels like I just had a really nice nap!" The hypnotist laughs. "I hear that often. It's a good sign, it means your mind and body were very relaxed and focused on my words. Now, I suggest we make another appointment in two or three days, to see how you've been getting on and if you need another session." Mike nods. "Yeah, sounds good. You know, I don't feel like smoking at all!" * Mike doesn't feel any different after the hypnosis session. He didn't think it would do anything, but a buddy on an online fitness forum recommended this guy, and Mike figured he might as well try it. Waking up feeling refreshed was nice, though, and he definitely hasn't wanted a nicotine shot since that first session. But he has been feeling antsy, like he does when he needs to smoke, but he knows what that feels like, and this isn't it. He wants something, though. Something to put in his mouth. He tries chewing gum, which doesn't work, and tries lollipops, even if the other guys in the office make fun of him for eating candy, and the lollipops are a bit better, but they're still not right. He starts eating more bananas and cucumbers, and their shape feels better in his mouth, but they're too cold, too soft. It's frustrating, and he uses that frustration that evening as he works out. He's sweaty from the treadmill, and puts a towel down before lying down to do some bench presses. It's pretty quiet and everyone else is busy, so he doesn't pile on the weights like he would if he did have a spotter. Even with less weight than he can press, it's a good work-out. He focuses on his form, and is staring at the ceiling determinedly. "You need a hand, there?" He blinks and finishes his rep. "You offering?" He's seen the guy around before, taller and broader than Mike, and Mike's been toying with the idea of asking him for work-out tips, but he's worried the guy'll assume Mike is hitting on him. The guy shrugs. "Seen you press more than this before. Come on, I'll spot you." Mike is pleased that the other man noticed that. "All right." The first few reps with the extra weight go well. The guy is quiet, and Mike goes back to staring at the ceiling. But in the corner of his eye he can see the guy's groin, clad in some grey sweatpants, and he can't help but glance at it every now and then. With the guy standing so close, it's obvious from the way he smells that he just finished working out. His arms are still glistening with sweat. Mike can smell it. He can smell the guy's sweat, and it smells surprisingly good and musky. "Careful," the guy tells him, and helps him finish the rep. "Getting tired?" "Nuh uh," Mike says. He's fine. He just got a little distracted. The antsiness that's been inside him all day is back with a vengeance, and soon, Mike's eyes drift from the ceiling to the groin above him. It does smell good, and it makes his mouth water. He starts when he feels his own cock stir in his sweatpants. What the hell? The guy shifts forward, tilting his hips a little. "You sure you wanna keep going?" Shit, has the guy noticed Mike's staring? Does he think Mike is hitting on him? Because Mike is definitely not hitting on him, or interested in his cock. At all. He's definitely not thinking about what the guy's cock might smell like, or feel like in his hands, or taste like in his mouth... Above him, the guy chuckles and he helps Mike put the bar back in the rack. "You seemed a little distracted." Mike is panting, still lying down. Why does he keep thinking about the guy's cock? He's not interested in guys. He likes women, likes scoring pussy. "I, uhm, guess," he mumbles. "Why don't we get some water in the dressing room?" the guy says, grinning suggestively at Mike. Mike's seen that grin before, and he usually laughs it off, letting whatever guy hit on him know that he doesn't swing that way. Those guys always walk off with their tail between their legs. "I don't know..." Mike hedges, his eyes still glued to the guy's groin. Oh God, that scent. "C'mon," the guy says, putting his hands on his hips. It drives his crotch forward, closer to Mike's face. "I think we both know that you want that... drink. That you're fucking thirsty." He closes his eyes as he inhales deeply, and nods. It smells so good, his mouth is watering at the thought of sucking the guy's dick. He sits up, and lets the guy help him up. He follows the guy quietly to the man's changing room down the corridor, the one that's quietest. The guy wastes no time once they're inside, dragging Mike into the communal shower and pushing his own sweatpants down. "Go on." The guy's cock is half-hard and huge, and Mike kneels down without even being aware he's doing it. He reaches out and wraps one hand around it, and it feels so good and hot in his hands. He starts pumping it up and down, licking his lips as the dick hardens. It's growing bigger and thicker until his fingers aren't touching anymore. The guy groans happily. "That's it, now suck it like the thirsty bitch you are." Mike wants to protest. He's not some bitch thirsting for cock! He likes pussy! But he finds himself leaning closer, opening his mouth and when his lips touch the tip of the guy's cock, he groans. It tastes so good! He quickly swallows the guy's cock down, wanting more and moaning around it. Oh yes, yes, this is what he wants, what he's been needing, why he's been feeling so antsy. He just needed a big cock to suck on. The guy groans. "That's right, suck my dick." Mike keeps one hand wrapped around the base of the guy's cock, and he bobs back and forth quickly. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. His own cock is hard too, and he loves the feeling of the guy's cock in his mouth, filling it up, and the way his cock tastes and feels against his tongue. He wants more, and he lets the cock slide down the back of his throat. He gags, and groans in disappointment. "Fuck, you're an eager cocksucker, aren't you?" the guy moans. He puts one hand on the back of Mike's head. "Yeah, take it, bitch." He pushes Mike forward, making him take the cock down his throat again. Mike moans happily. Yes, he wants to take more, taste more, feel more. He keeps gagging, drooling around the guy's cock and can feel it dribble down his chin. It's not so bad, and totally worth it to keep this massive cock in his mouth. "That's it, take it deeper," the guy tells him, staring down at him. "Cocksluts like you can take it." Mike moans, trying to shake his head. He's not a cockslut. He just, well, he just likes sucking cock! It feels so good! And he's not even gagging anymore. The guy moves his hands so he's holding Mike's head with both hands. "Stay still," he grunts, keeping Mike's head in place. Mike just groans, his mouth still full of cock. The guy starts thrusting, deep, hard thrusts down Mike's throat. "You love it," he grunts, "cocksluts like you, you love it." Mike moans. He does love this, yes, but does that make him a cockslut? "That's why you come here, right?" the guy says. "Thirsty for cock." He groans, thrusting deeper. "Bet once I've finished with you, you'll be looking for another guy." Oh, that does sound nice, now that the guy mentions it... The guy's thrusts grow faster, and his grunts deeper. He stops speaking, groaning with every thrust, and eventually thrusts in hard. Mike closes his eyes, moaning as he feels the guy cum down his throat. It tastes so good, feels so good to be filled up. When the guy pulls out, Mike surges forward to lick the cum remains off his cock. The guy laughs as he shoves Mike out of the way and pulls his sweatpants up. "Hope to see you again sometime, cockslut." With that, he swaggers around the corner and Mike hears the door to the dressing room open and close. Mike is panting as he stares at the tiled wall. What just happened? He just sucked a guy's cock and loved it? Why did he love it? Why did it feels so good? Why is he feeling so calm and relaxed right now? The door opens and closes again, and Mike scrambles to his feet. It's his hypnotist, dressed casually in a t-shirt and some sweatpants. "Oh, hello, Mike." He smiles and gestures at Mike's face. "I see you've been busy..." Mike feels his cheeks heat up and he wipes at his chin. He thought he swallowed all the guy's come, but apparently not. "I'm, uhm, yeah?" The hypnotist walks into the communal shower, and palms his groin. "I do hope you're ready for another one, Mike." He grabs his cock through his sweatpants, then reaches out to stroke Mike's face. Mike groans quietly when he can smell the musk on the hypnotist's face. "Oh yes." He finds himself kneeling down again, and he rubs his face against his hypnotist's groin. "Yes!" He wants more. Henry Lawson entered into the prison after a long day in court. He got a phone call from a client he barely remembered, but his assistant reminded him that he was on a hundred thousand dollar retainer, and promised twenty four seven service. The name was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it, as he read it off a card, he scribbled the name his assistant had told him, Michelle Beaunies. The name kept repeating over in his head as he was led into a small room with a steel table and two plastic chairs bolted into the table. He took a seat and opened his briefcase going over the files that were faxed over to him at court. The charges were countless, leaping off pages at him, murder, assault, fraud, robbery, armed robbery, conspiracy to murder, count after count. Henry looked at his expensive watch, fidgeting in his expensive suit against the hard plastic uncomfortable chair. He didn't notice until the door slid shut and the locks clicked, that his client had entered the room. She was small in stature, but her long blonde hair and bright white smile lit up the room taller than any giant could. The orange jumpsuit completely hid her figure, but you would have to be blind to see that she had an exquisite body underneath it. She had a face that reminded him of a girl on the Video Game channel his step son always watched. The guards at the prison said she looked like two thousand and seven Playmate of the Year Sara Jean Underwood. She slid into the seat opposite Henry and flipped her hair over her head and smiled at him. Henry thought she didn't look a day over twenty five, but her birth date indicated she was thirty six years old. "You didn't bring my coffee? I specifically asked your secretary and he told me he would take care of it," she said speaking first. Henry thought back to the first phone call hearing something about coffee and just thought it was nonsense, until now clicking in his head. "I'm so sorry Ms. Bones, that was my fault," Henry began to apologize. Michelle cut him off raising her finger at him and said, "It's _Beaunies_, like Bow and niece together, _BeauNIES!_ Got it?" "Yes again my apologies Ms. Beaunies. I'm sorry, please I'll text my assistant and he can bring us your coffee," Henry said. "And cigarettes, unless you got any?" She asked. "Sorry I don't smoke," Henry replied, texting his assistant, who immediately replied. "Excellent, he shall be here in ten minutes. I'm sorry but I've been in court all day, I haven't even had a moment to be fully briefed on your situation. Why don't you tell me what's going on?" "I really wish you had a cigarette," Michelle said, leaning her head on her arm, her elbow resting on the table. "So like everything we talk about has lawyer client confidentiality right, it can't be used in court, or you can't tell anyone? Like a doctor patient thing?" "Yes that's right, it's privileged information," Henry said. "Okay, where to begin?" Michelle asked herself. "Just start at the beginning," Henry said calmly. "I guess it all started when I was 18 and got pregnant. It was from my high school sweetheart, who later became my husband. We were the all American couple, him football quarterback captain, and me head cheerleader, and little old me gets pregnant on prom. His parents gave him a bunch of shit telling him he's gonna burn in hell if he didn't marry me, while my parents were just supportive of whatever. But being young and stupid I marry him, and we go off to college together, while my parents raise my baby boy." "Right, your son that's accused of murdering your husband?" Henry interrupted. "That's right, see even though I just had a kid, my parents didn't want me to lose out on experiencing college and having a life, so they took care of him for his first four years, so when I graduated college and came back home, it was weird being his Mom all of a sudden, we just clicked and became like the bestest of friends!" Michelle said smiling wide. "And so I graduated with a Bachelor's in Child Psychology, and a minor in Acting, which was pretty much worthless. Luckily my husband was into financing and did really well, until the market crashed, and he lost all our savings. That was when my son came up with an idea, which pretty much saved our lives." "The same son that's accused of murder?" Henry asked. "Yes, the same," Michelle said rolling her eyes. "Since my parents raised him, my dad was always kind of a nerd and spread that to my son, which I always just thought was super sweet and encouraged him reading comic books, playing videogames, watching R rated movies. But my stupid husband wanted him to play sports and do manly stuff, but he took more after my family side. I'm the most athletic of our family, the rest of us are just kind of skinny and uncoordinated. So my son was always kind of a disappointment to his father, because he wanted to read comics and play dungeons and dragons, instead of throwing a baseball around. He would always say to me, 'Mom, I can kick butt in Madden, not on the real field so why should I go out there and get my butt kicked by a bunch of meatheads?" He was just so cute!" Michelle swooned. "I notice you never say your husband's name," Henry said. "Why should I? He turned into the world's biggest hypocrite asshole, and he's dead. Obviously I'm the grieving widow right now; I can grieve how I want. You know after he lost his job in financing, he took a job selling cars, it really fit him, he was such a sleazeball. Ever since college I picked up the habit of smoking weed, but when he started selling cars, he developed a nasty coke habit. Doing eight balls a day, snorting off the sink in the bathroom and sell sell sell cars! Meanwhile I was a stay at home mom to a really smart kid that was off in school, do his homework and chores, and play videogames. I got bored so I got really good at baking sweet treats. One day I caught him smoking from my stash and he made a comment about baking it into my treats, and well, that's how Beaunies Magic Space Cakes were born!" "Wait, you are the Beaunies of the Beaunies Magic Cakes Empire?" Henry asked. "That's right, when we got big I kind of tried to stay out of the spot light, but it's hard when you become the official spokeswoman, that's why we moved out west," Michelle said. Henry Lawson's assistant walked in after a buzz of the doors announced his arrival. "Finally coffee!" Michelle squealed. She stood up and gave his assistant a big hug, taking the iced mocha chocolate chip whipped topping venti, lighter, and pack of cigarettes. She lit one up immediately and used the lid of the coffee as a makeshift ashtray. "Thank you, you may go now," Henry said to his assistant, who promptly left. "After he gave me the idea, I spent a few months tinkering, and I found a way to make a sweet treat, with weed in it, but no weird aftertaste. But the real trick was, I found out how to do it in a way it could be easily mass produced, hence where the Beaunies Magic Space Cake was born! For the past few years my small business blossomed into a huge money maker for my family, making our lives much easier, but my husband had just spun into a horrible depression, not interested in pleasing me at all, always stressed out feeling worthless, and my interest turned completely to our son, turning into this charming young man that I couldn't help but begin to lust for, wishing hubby just was gone, but a divorce would mean half of my company going to him, who had nothing to do with it, half of it away from our only son, which was just not fair. Not fair at all!" Michelle said exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I can see how you would not want to take something you built with your son away, a jury can definitely sympathize with that," Henry noted aloud. "Especially when I became the breadwinner, it drove my macho man husband insane! He felt completely worthless, and his coke problem got out of control! He was going crazy with my money, cheating on me with cheap strippers and whores. I had no choice, but I forced him into rehab. I thought it would be the right thing to do, but it became the worst thing for our family. He turned to Jesus in rehab and became a fanatic Christian, sure he was sober when he went home, but he was a nightmare for me and Chris!" Michelle said, she ashed her cigarette in her coffee lid, before she continued. "Chris and I are so much alike, our thoughts, beliefs, so laid back, and chill, wanting to just smoke and live, while his Dad was depressed and looking to the church, which we both think is ridiculous, and he soon begins preaching at us, making him infinitely more annoying, driving us both crazy!" Michelle said smacking her hand on the steel table. She took a moment to sip the straw in her iced mocha, Henry watching noticing her pink lips wrapping around the tube, sucking away thinking of wanting those lips on his cock. "So of course he couldn't get a job selling cars, so I had to give him a job at my company, since I became President, even though I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I partnered up with some smart investor and he takes care of the business, I just come in and make sure things run the way I like, and get paid. Quality control stuff you know? So I make he who shall not be named work fifty hour weeks in my company at a simple desk job, while I start to work from home more and more, working only a few days a week at the office. His long work days away from home make things easier for a little while, but he just becomes even worse at home at night, preaching his rhetoric to us, driving us insane," Michelle said, and continued. "Meanwhile I hadn't been fucked in weeks, and because of his stupid beliefs all my sex toys had been confiscated, so I couldn't even pleasure myself. It was so frustrating I just wanted to scream. That was when the thoughts began, about how I just wished there was a way to be rid of him, and magically replace him with my son." Michelle said, and Henry looked at her in shock. She just smiled, sipped her iced drink, and said, "He would bitch to me about smoking weed as a nightcap, when he was the one using my money that was helping cancer patients across the country. And the way he treated Christopher! Having to listen to him rant about how he's a sinner for being a regular teenager, driving me nuts!" "I can see how that would be very difficult for you and your son to adjust to," Henry said. "Chris had it the worst. One night he confessed to me how he was beginning to imagine different ways he could kill his own dad like in all the horror movies he watched, making him suffer for being such a ridiculous hypocrite, and treating his awesome mom like shit. How he doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air as me, wishing he could just be gone forever and spend the rest of his life with just me." Michelle said. "Sounds like your son will be able to build a strong defense. I'll be able to extend my services for him as well," Henry said, fishing for a card. "Oh that won't be necessary Mr. Lawson, I have an excellent team already representing him. I just used you because I remember putting a retainer on you in case I got slapped with divorce papers. I didn't think I would have to use it for murder charges, but such is the life of a pretty rich lady in America." "Right, well Ms. Beaunies, why don't we talk about what led up to the killing of your husband?" Henry asked. "I guess it was the week he went to the Western District Distribution Conference, we send someone every year to run a booth, just give out samples and stickers and t-shirts. I figured a week away from him would be great, plus it was a week after Chris' eighteenth birthday, so it would be a nice break for him. That's when everything kind of went crazy in our lives," Michelle said, travelling off into a sordid tale of lust, darkness, sex, rage, love, violence and depravity. I wait silently in the dark in a cage. It won't be long now. This is the third day I've been in captivity. He usually comes down and brings me upstairs a few hours after the light from the dismal little window in the basement fades out. I can already hear him stomping around upstairs. The steel at the bottom of the cage is cold against my ass and the bars hurt my back where I'm leaning against them. The whole basement smells of dust and damp. The air tastes stale. My jaw aches from where he slammed my mouth over and over again last night. I keep popping it but the ache doesn't go away. I'm completely naked and I can feel the breeze brush against my pussy, making me shiver. The door swings open and I hear heavy feet tramp down the stairs. I look up into the blinding light and there he is, in his business suit, sleeves rolled up, shoes clacking on the concrete floor. He reaches the cage and fumbles with a key and yanks the door open. He then reaches inside, grabs me by my long auburn hair and pulls me out and up. I don't cry out or complain. Two whole days was enough to teach me that it was pointless. "Good girl," he says, his deep voice rumbling. "I see you've learned kicking and screaming is useless. It just makes it worse for you." I do not respond, as I am not prompted to. I'm only supposed to talk when I'm told. We troop up the stairs and into his parlor. All the shutters and curtains are drawn, but there's a dim light from an old fashioned lamp in the corner. Illuminated by it I see the items I will be experiencing tonight, laid out on the couch. A bullwhip, a baton, a gag. I whimper. The noise slides out of my mouth without my consent. "Now, now," he says. "You'll only be subjected to those if you misbehave. If you take it like a good little slut, you'll be fine." I try not to whimper again. There's an old fashioned chair that's been set out in the center of the room. He takes me over to it, retrieving several lengths of rope from the couch as we go by, and bends me over the back. Soon my bare feet are tied to the back legs and my hands are tied to the front. "Now, you've been a good little fucktoy so far, so we'll start with a reward, shall we?" He begins to massage my ass. Pulling and pushing against the sore muscles and bruises. Pinching here and there to relieve pressure. It's all I can do to resist moaning. Eventually he works lower down onto my thighs and his hands glide between my legs and then up against my pussy. I squirm just a tad, but resist crying out. Slowly he begins to rub his hand back and forth, back and forth, along the entire length of my cunt; just lightly brushing the clit at the end before pulling all the way back almost to my asshole. He slides one finger in, slowly, inching inside. I bite down hard on my lower lip to stop myself from making any noise. He hates noise. A second finger pops in. He's going just a little faster now, rhythmically pumping me. I sink my teeth further into my lip. A third finger goes in, slamming me properly; in, out, in out. I chew down on my tongue. Just as my thighs are starting to twitch, he suddenly removes his hand, and my soaking wet vag is left open. Then his tongue is in me, snaking just inside my hole, flicking across my labia, working up towards my clit. When he gets to my clit he immediately starts working it hard and fast. It's too much. I cry out, whimpering. My legs are twitching, my nipples are hard. His tongue stops touching my clit. My heart skips a beat. "Now what did I say yesterday about making noise while I am entertaining myself?" "Please, don't. I'll be good I promise." But he's already walking over to the sofa. Soon he's behind me again and I can barely breathe from the tension of it all. He stands there for a good long while, knowing how tense I must be. Knowing how scared. Then, smack, the hard surface whacks my ass, making me jump. For a second there's numbness, then excruciating pain radiates through my ass. Tears spring to my eyes. "Please, not agai-" Smack. "Please!" I cry out. "Take it in silence and it'll be over sooner you worthless little whore." Four more times it cracks against my backside. By the time he hurls the thing back to the couch, tears are streaming down my face. My chest is shaking and I'm trying so hard not to make noise it physically hurts. That's when I hear his belt buckle snap and a rustle of clothing as his pants must drop to the floor. I stay absolutely still. Is he going to fuck me? I think, paralyzed. He's never fucked me before. His hands find their place on my hips and sure enough I feel the soft but hard tip of a dick press up against my dripping labia. I quiver with the realization that in my head, I'm begging him to put it in. There's nothing I want more than him to sink his hard cock deep into my sopping cunt. I bite my lip again and taste blood. He presses into me harder. Then, in an almost sudden fashion, it slides in. I reflexively tighten around it. God I want it so bad. He starts off tantalizingly slow, just like with the fingers. Easing in and out. Rubbing his dick all over the outside of my vag, then easing in and out again. He moans a little and it's the hottest thing I've ever heard. I try to grind up against him, to get his dick in deeper. "Oh you're loving this aren't you, my little slut. You want me so bad you can barely contain yourself. You feel guilty of course, you've been told good girls don't like sex, let alone rape, but you're loving this. You're practically begging me for it." I suddenly slams me, hard; pounding his dick all the way in. I let out the tiniest little squeak and he laughs and he continues. Pounding me over and over again. He starts to go fast as well as deep. And I hear him start to groan; moan and gasp with each pump. He's not a quiet fucker. He leans over me and grabs my tits, twisting them. I can barely think through all of the pleasure and pain I'm feeling. He keeps going harder and harder, pinching my nipples, yanking down. "I'm going in bare. You know what that means? I'm going to impregnate you. I'm going to stick my child in your filthy hole. You're just one of ten breeders I go through a month. And if I can't impregnate you, well. You're barely even good enough for a fucktoy. I'll have a fun time ruining your body." I cum. I cum so hard I impulsively arch back tip the chair backwards. I let out a piercing scream followed by a quick succession of gasps and moans. I cannot stand it. My whole body is shaking. I've never cum like this before. Every inch of my flesh feels as sensitive as my clit. With a loud yell he releases inside of my now uber-sensitive cunt, shoving himself as deep into me as he can go. After it's all squirted out he continues to pump weakly for a little while, then we're both still for a minute; sweating and gasping and twitching. Finally he unties me with surprising delicacy and throws me over his shoulder, his wet, now partially limp, cock still hanging out. "Come on princess," he says, panting a little. "It's time for you and I to have a bath."

I stir from slumber during the early, dawn hours. As I slowly edge my way towards consciousness I become aware of your toned body close to mine. I sigh. You always remind me of something powerful, protective. You make me feel safe. You are my man. The room is hot and still. My eyes open slightly and I tease back the soft sheet with one hand, hoping this will cool my naked body. It doesn't. Even though it's raining outside, a peachy half-light filters through the blind. I hate this muggy weather. At least you and I are now uncovered from the waist up. If the morning is kind enough to carry any breeze through the open window, we will feel it. I turn my head to look at you. You are lying on your back with one arm flung above your head. Your long fingers are curled lightly against the bed head in repose. I shift onto my side to face you and, even though it's so sultry, I lightly rest my thigh on yours. Our skin touches; we are both sticky. In the dim light I drink in the silhouette of your handsome face. Your lips are parted, so full and inviting. I hear your breath, regular and deep. It never ceases to amaze me that I am yours. You look peaceful, beautiful, delicious. For a long while I lay motionless and silent... absorbing this moment... imprinting this time upon my memory. After a short while you wriggle back and forth fractionally as if trying to bury yourself deeper into the bed. Your long, toned body sways slightly, rocked by the ocean of your dreams. Perhaps you sense that I'm watching? I don't move; I don't want this magic to end. ... Hush. Don't break the spell. Hardly daring to stir but unable to stop myself, I lean over to brush a few stray hairs away from your forehead. They are damply dark. My hand lightly cups the side of your face and I feel your early morning bristles tickle my palm. I stare at you closely, as if for the first time. My heart lurches. I realize that this is one of those rare moments in time when I am absolutely happy. I'm flooded with the warmth of my love for you. By way of a silent thank you, I lightly kiss your cheek and your ear lobe. I lean over and touch my lips against yours - feather-light, a whispered, hushed kiss. My tongue runs almost imperceptibly over both your lips in turn. Again you rouse, sigh and shift a little but fail to wake. ... Careful. Don't break the spell. I lay motionless breathing in your scent, so masculine. I am in paradise. Tentatively I reach across to touch your chest. I rest my palm delicately over your heart and feel its constant, affirming thud. The ever-miraculous sensation of skin against skin causes me to quiver slightly. After a while my emboldened fingers roam a little further to caress, explore. You let out a soft, almost inaudible moan. Even though you are sleeping soundly, somewhere in your dreams you know that I'm here in the real world, fondling you. I smile softly and wait. ... Be still. Don't break the spell. Eventually my hand roams further - more adventurous this time. I hold my breath as my fingers tenderly brush your nipples. They rise and harden as if to please me. Your unconscious response to my touch arouses me beyond words. I feel my pussy tighten. My heart begins to pound in my ears. Ever so lightly, gently, ever so slowly my hand slips wave-like down your torso. I don't want to awaken you, yet my body wants you – totally, absolutely. As if of its own volition, my hip sways inward and I knead myself rhythmically against your thigh. My nectar lubricates your skin and soon your leg becomes my slippery play thing. God, how I want you! My mind reels. I want you to lay oblivious while I discover and tease. I am silently screaming for you to possess me. I don't want to disturb you; want to celebrate this magical time alone. I want you to wake and take me without a single word being spoken. ... but STOP! Don't break the spell... I roll onto my back away from you and slip my hand between my legs. My fingers are immediately drenched, I am so wet! I tease myself, running the very tips of my fingers over and around my outer lips. I'm hungry with lust. I want more but take my time, knowing that the longer I take the greater my reward shall be. I bend my legs apart, one slightly raised because it's leaning against you. Even in sleep you entice me - you are my catalyst, my stimulus. I add pressure, slowly exploring. My juices run down the valley of my inner lips and beyond. My fingers follow the oyster soft path, slowly, lightly... down and back again... over and over and over... At last I can wait no longer and allow my fingers to stray where they want to go. My clit is engorged and I gasp involuntarily as my fingers finally find their mark. I splay my lips wide with the fingers of one hand and rhythmically circle my clit with the other. My pussy instantly responds, clenching tight within. OH God! (Did I say that out loud?!) ... Careful! Quiet! Don't break the spell! I close my eyes. Vivid pictures of our love-making race through my mind – your hair clutched in my fists as you burrow between my legs; the look on your face, distorted in the throws of orgasm, as I buck animal-like on top of you; your cock filling me from behind as I kneel, legs wide. I increase pace and pressure as the pictures swirl, tumbling over each other as if each wants to be the ultimate. I rub my clit faster and faster! I'm breathing hard but am trying to remain as quiet as I can. For a brief moment I turn my head towards you and wonder how on earth you can continue to sleep while my world is being rocked beyond all reason. ... Hush now. Don't break the spell. One finger, then two, slip into my dripping pussy – hot, warm, tight. It grips eagerly. My fingers imitate the movement of your cock... in and out... as deeply as they can reach... harder... faster!!! Waves of exhilaration rush through me, each stronger than the last. My body is glistens with perspiration. My hand continues to play... in and out...in and out... my mind constantly filled with vision of us. The tension builds, it's excruciating, magnificent! I ram my pussy with the fingers of one hand, while others excite my clit to the point of no return... my whole body writhes, my hips thrust upwards. I'm beyond knowing or caring about anything other than the sensations wracking my body. I'm panting, moaning. I am getting close... so very close... I ride the ever increasing waves, rapturously driving myself further and further onwards. Every fiber of my body is tensed; my toes curl tightly. Suddenly I crest the last gigantic wave and crash down into an abyss of ecstasy. My whole body shudders repeatedly and I cry out your name. A long groan cracks the silence of our room as immense pleasure and relief overwhelm me. My hips drop to the bed and I lie perfectly still feeling my heart pound. My breathing is ragged. Hot, fast pulsations pump within my pussy. I am limp, wet, happy. I let my hand rest between my legs; it feels so good there. Slowly I begin to relax... "That was fucking amazing!" At the sound of your voice I gasp and turn abruptly. You're propped up next to me, smiling. I can't speak. I'm devastated! I quickly look away only to discover that the sheet has slipped off the bed completely. In that second I realize that from whatever time you woke up you not only heard, but also saw everything! I yank my hand from between my legs and curl onto my side. A deep blush flushes my cheeks. "Don't be embarrassed, Honey," you whisper. "It was awesome. Honestly." "I... I... umm... didn't want to wake you," is all I can bring myself to say. "Well I, for one, am very pleased that you did, Baby. You can wake me up like that anytime you like! And now for the obvious question. Seeing as I was so rudely awoken, what are you going to do about it?" As you chuckle out these words, you take my hand and guide it down to your big cock. It's so hard, like velvet covered steal. Without thinking I wrap my wet fingers around your shaft and lean forward to kiss you... ... who cares about a damn spell, anyway? My first time was in mid June of 1973. It was a warm and sunny summer after noon in South Dakota. I had just turned 18 a few days before.Most of my friends had already gotten laid and had many stories of their conquests. Yes, I had dated several girls and it wasn't that I was weird or ugly. I was just not sure of how to get a girl to give it up. Or maybe I was just dating the wrong girls? I had made it to first, second and third base but was still waiting for my first homerun. I had a wide range of friends and it was not uncommon for me to hang out with some of my older buddies ( from the varsity football team) that had just spent their school year at Northern State College. For lack of much else to do on a Sunday afternoon in rural South Dakota we headed to the nearest town. We planned to have a few beers and then to cruise around in my Dad's car to check out the young chicks in their summer attire. Located right on our way to town was a radio station where one of my high school friends worked as a dj. We stopped and visited with him and watched him spin records and lay out his well know line of gab (BS)on the local airways. He had box after box of the records that they were going to throw out. Copies of popular artists and a lot of them that we had never heard of. He said "Take as many as you want." So we left with two big cardboard boxes of 45’s. We went down to our usual watering hole and downed a several pitchers of beer between the three of us. After playing a little foosball. We decide we were bored and started driving around looking at the babes in their shorts and tub tops. Standing in front of the local teen arcade. (It was the 70’s,so we just had pin ball machines, foosball and pool tables in our arcades) were two young teenage girls. The one closed to the street was a very pretty brunette in tight jeans and a white blouse. She had a very dark complexion so her nipples could easily be seen through the thin cloth of her blouse. Her ass was a perfect heart shape. She was really put together for a 18 year old girl. The other was a blonde wearing a white t-shirt and loose fitting jeans. Her hair was very long and hung down to her ass cheeks. She was cute, but had a hippy chick look to her. A total contrast to the more preppy looking brunette. One of my friends knew the blonde so he called out her name and we pulled the car into a parking spot and started talking. She looked into the car and noticed the boxes full of records stacked in the back seat of my Dads 1970 FuryIII. We talked for a while and all at once she reached in through the window and pull the keys out of the ignition and starting running down the street laughing and shouting back that I couldn’t catch her. She was pretty fast for a girl but in about ½ a block I caught her from behind. I grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the ground with one arm and with my free hand I was trying to get my keys back out of her tight fist. She just giggled and shoved the keys into her front pocket. “I would like to see you get them now.” She said in a very sexy voice. Well I sure as hell wasn’t going to walk 70 miles home(I thought to myself). I pushed my hand right past the lump of keys in her front pocket and I grabbed her by the pussy and lifted her off the ground. She could feel my hard teenage cock pressed against her ass and she let out a light moan as I gripped her pussy with my strong hand. Just then a load of teenage boys drove by and yelled out at us “Get a fucking room.” "Oh shit! I go to school with those guys." she said "We need to go someplace else before we go any further and I really don't want my Mom to find out that I am with a guy. I am supposed to be grounded." She told me that she needed to be home by 5.But if I would come by her house around 7 (when her Mom would have to leave for work) she would sneak out and we could be alone. I drove past her house at about 7:15. She ran out in the street to my car and hopped inside and slide over next to me and kissed me. “Lets go for a drive in the country.” She said with a big smile on her face. I drove a short distance out sw of town on a seldom traveled gravel road. I pulled off the road into and approach. As soon as I had shut off the car. She started kissing me deeply teasing my tongue with hers. I reached under her shirt to play with her firm teenage tits. They were hard as rocks and she had those long pencil eraser nipples that stood proudly. I moved my hand down on to her thigh.As I moved my way up to her crouch and she parted her legs so I could have access to rub her sopping wet pussy through her jeans. She loved my hand working over her pussy.I could smell the sweet scent of her sex filling the car as I teased her young twat. She was squirming up and down and pressing her cunt up against my hand as if she were trying to force my fingers in her hot hole right through her jeans. She was panting in fast short breaths and had her first cum of the night. Her whole body shook and her thighs smashed my hand against her twitching pussy. “Lets get into the back seat.” She said to me She hopped over the front seat into the back. Before I could crawl over to join her, she was buckass naked. I sat there in awe for a minute just looking at her beautiful young body. She was the first totally naked girl I had ever seen in person. I had jacked off to plenty of naked women in Playboy. But this was the real live girl and she was ready and willing to fuck. She broke the silence by saying to me “Aren’t you forgetting something?” “What?” I asked “You still have your cloths on.” She said with a laugh I pulled off my shirt so she could get a view of my a hairy and well muscled chest. Her hands were running over my belly and she reached down and undone my belt and buttons of my jeans. I pulled my jeans and underwear down making my hard cock popped out. "WOW" she said She took my cock in her small hand and stroked it firmly. “I need a taste of that wonderful cock.” She said as she leaned down and starting sucking my hard shaft. She was the first to perform oral sex on me. Who ever taught this young woman had done an excellent job. She made small circles around the tip and she used the entire length of her tongue when she licked the beads of pre-cum from the slit of my rock hard shaft. When she sucked it was neither too hard or too soft. I could tell she loved the taste and the musky smell of my balls. Because after she made her way down to lick and suck on them, she would take in deep breaths and moan. I am sure if I had not had a few beers that my first cum would have been in that well skilled mouth. As lay down on the seat sucking me I reached down and explored her naked pussy with my fingers. It must have been shear luck finding her clit and working it like I did. Because I sure didn’t know all the working of a pussy at my young age. But I must have done fine, because she was soon squirming and squealing out from her second hard cum. “Get on top of me and fuck me with that big cock.” She begged me She looked so cute and so damn sex laying back with her legs parted waiting for me to mount her and fuck her teenage cunt. I was not sure of my aim and asked her to put it in for me. I could feel her hand grip my cock and pull me ahead to line it up with her wet fuck hole. As soon as it touch her lips she arched her back up and pushed in the tip. That was all the assistance I needed and I slowly worked my thick cock back and forth until I was buried balls deep in her wet furrow. I quickly picked up a rhythm that was making her moan louder. She didn’t just lay there but met me stroke for stroke. She could smell her sex on my hand and could see my fingers were wet. She took them in her mouth one by one and sucked them clean as I pumped my cock into that velvet slit. She begged” fuck me harder.” So I took long hard deep strokes pulling out just so the tip made contact with her swollen lips and then all the way in so my balls were slapping tight against her ass. My hands moved down under her ass and held her in a firm grip as I plunged my cock in and out of her red hot channel. I could feel her insides stretch so my cock would fit deeper and deeper in her wet fuck hole. Damn!!!!!!!!!She felt great wrapped around my teenage cock. "OH fuck." I thought to my self Her pussy is hot on my hard prick. She was so wet that juice was running down covering the crack of her ass. “Cum inside me.” she said “I am on the pill.” So cum I did. My cock pulsed and shot out its stream of my white cum into her waiting pussy. As I slowly pulled out my still hard tool, a string of the mix of my cum and hers dripped down and coated her ass with the white mix. She just laid their breathing hard.Her legs were open wide so I could see her pink little pussy. It was still slightly open from the hard fucking she had just had taken. My white cum had filled and was dripping out of her hole. I will never forget the sight of her bred pink pussy,full of my white cum. As we lay and rested she again made her way back down to my cock. It was shinny and wet from her pussy juices and the mix of my white cum. She licked and sucked it clean as if she could not get enough of the taste of my cum. "I need to get home." she said. "Mom likes to call from work and make sure I am home and not doing anything naughty." Her cleaning had made me hard again and I talked her into a quick one before I took her home. Her pussy made that squishy sound as I fuck her cum filled hole. I had learned what angle felt good to her and what rhythm and speed to use. She was soon bucking and moan and begging me "Fuck me with that big cock." I could feel the second load building up in my balls and I held in as deep as it would go. I could feel her cervix hitting the tip as I put the white seed deep inside her. She my first oral sex, my first real pussy and she was the first woman that loved to clean up my cock and balls after it had been buried inside of her. I never seen her again, but I will never forget that first time, it was great. There is not so much that a horny college student can look forward to on a Monday morning. It's Calc at 9am and I try to take notes but my eyes keep straying to the shapely backside of that dark girl from South America who always sits in front of me. Today she is wearing a bra with a yellow shoulder strap that I can just spy out under her sweater neck. Next it's a Japanese History lecture, and halfway through I completely give up paying attention and drowse off into a kind of violent sexual fantasy involving the red hair chick two rows down and the professor's podium. Going into the cafeteria for lunch does not improve matters, for I keep seeing the four or so super-slutty hot dolls that my small college boasts, and noticing the sore way they walk, no doubt having been gang-ass-fucked by some jocks over the weekend. I meet some friends and we trade Friday night stories. I hear of this guy whom this guy knows who hooked up with this nice chick who sometimes says hi to me, and she let him come on her face. I think of the few girls on campus who would let ME come on their faces. Man, what a waste of cum! I drink the small carton of milk and eat the awful pepperoni pizza, then make to bring my tray back but brush off against this other girl who has been unusually talkative to me lately. She asks me if I can make a group study session on Thursday at her place. I say I don't know and ask who else will be there. She says maybe a friend, but maybe just the two of us. She makes it very ambiguous as to whether in fact she is hitting on me, but that still makes my cock twitch in my pants a little and I imagine running my hands up her thighs, and I try to block out of the existence of baby fat that I might encounter, or the fact that she doesn't appear to shave her legs quite as regularly as I would have liked. Finally I am off and head to my run down campus apartment that I share with three of my friends. All of them have afternoon classes, so the coast is clear for my Monday delight (according to our unspoken about but agreed schedule of the quadmates' masturbatory activites). I check my mailbox on the way. The new Victoria's Secret catalogue is in. I ordered that shit online two weeks ago. Truth is, I am twenty years old but I still haven't learned to whack off to regular porn. Somehow it grosses me out. So I do supermodels in lingerie instead. That is supposed to be really bad, according to a decent-looking girl friend of mine who once got drunk and had sex with me because there was no one better around. She said that this was what made me cum two minutes after we started. I feel pretty embarrassed about it and I hope she hasn't told any of my friends. Anyway, I fling my bag on my bed, flip open the catalogue and settle myself into a comfortable position on my swivel chair. My roommates' computer is on and I check that he hasn't turned on his stupid web camera. He really hopes he'll be able to get some and record it but I very much doubt that. The only thing that happens to our room on a regular basis, honestly, is a couple of luckless guys jerking off their frustration over the state and attitude of womanhood at this school. I whip out my dick from my boxers and start stroking it furiously until it hardens. That's the part of masturbation that I love best, it's like acceleration in a really fast car, compared to just moving along at great speed. I don't like coming too quickly because I always feel alone and stupid after that. So I let it rest for a while and turn the pages of the catalogue, waiting for my cock to soften so I can do the same thing again. My gaze fells upon Alessandra Ambrossio, caressing her naked breasts and turned sideways; that's the way they always make her pose for the cheaper sort of white or one- colored bikinis. Alex, man, what a vixen! I turn some more pages so I can find a nice spread-legged shot of her that I can cum to later. It must have been scores of times already that her tight ass has accompanied me on the roller coaster of orgasm, even when I wasn't looking at her picture; even, I have to admit, when I was fucking my drunk friend. I straddle the chair more tightly and prepare to fondle my cock again. But then I notice a coupon-looking coarse paper thing underneath her picture. I read over it. It's some sort of a raffle ticket. Yes, it is a lottery coupon and, holy cow! It involves Vicky's supermodels coming to college campuses for lingerie photo shoots. I read over it once more to make sure that my school is eligible. Then I log on to the Internet from my old laptop and fill out the registration form with the catalogue number on their website. I wonder how many weirdos like me read Vicky's catalogues at other colleges. Must be hundreds of them. Maybe even some girls would fill out the coupon thing. I wait. My roommate comes in after his class and I am irritable because I am still horny and had not had the chance to finish what I'd started. My Vicky's catalogue is safely tucked in my desk drawer to not give away any evidence, of course. My parents call. I am irritable on the phone too and hang up as soon as I can. I check the Victoria's Secret online thing again to see what the lottery deadline is. It's tomorrow, lucky me! I tell my roommate that I am browsing Vicky's to buy shit for a girl. He is suddenly very interested and I can't shake him off until I admit that it might be that girl from the study group if we hook up and she asks me out. He says I am crazy. I can't stand it anymore so I take my towel, go to the bathroom and jerk off. I picture that girl in tight Vicky's panties as I am rubbing it in the shower. She won't look gorgeous in them, I know, and her skin will be sagging a little over the brim but the thought still makes me horny. The girl slowly turns into Alex Ambrossio and I squirt my load on the shower curtain in happy abandonment. Nothing much happens the next day. Or the next. I go to the study session at that girl's house, and lo and behold, her friend is not there. We do not hook up however, but pore over Calculus instead, solving the problem set due the next day. Still, she appears to be exceptionally nice to me and she lets me sit on her bed and play with her cushions and I notice that she has put perfume on. I give her a high five on my way out – this is what I do when I want to establish a physical contact with a female but am too shy to try for a hug. I am a loser, I know. On Friday morning I wake up with my cock flying high. I haven't whacked off since Monday and it is starting to show as I again blank out during Japanese history and almost start rubbing myself against the desk underside when the red hair chick bends over on the front row and I can see the laced edge of her matching red panties. They are not Vicky's, I think. I come back to my room to find my roommate out and the red light blinking on our answering machine. I pick up in the hope that it might be the study session girl poring over her true feelings. No, it's an operator who doesn't say the company's name but she puts me on hold. I wait. There is soothing music with no corporate jingles on the line and I wonder whether I should start playing with my cock while I wait because my roommate will be back soon. Finally, somebody at the other end picks up. "Hello. Am I speaking to Mr. Matthew Finney?" "Yes. Who is that?" "I am Ms. Judd, Victoria's Secret PR Representative. You have filled out a Campus Shoot lottery form on the name of Mr. Finney, Client Number 12765342, that came through on our computers. Is that correct?" "Yes, that's right!" I feel my knees tremble a little. I lean on the desk for support. "Mr. Finney, a Victoria's Secret model will be calling at your place along with our cameramen and production team this afternoon. As you know you can request a model of your choice, though some are currently completing photo shoots overseas and are not available for this appointment. The models that you can request to visit you include..." There is a slight pause on the line and the woman is heard fumbling through some pages. "Miss Adriana Lima, Miss Alessandra Ambro..." "I want Alex!!!" I almost shout it over the speaker, but then compose myself. "I would d like Miss Alessandra Ambrossio if that is ok." There is another pause. I pray. "Certainly. Miss Ambrossio will be completing a shoot for Victoria's Secret '06 swimwear collection and we will greatly appreciate you hosting her and showing our team around locations at your campus. We have already cleared this with your college's administration of course." I gulp. This seems super official, and yet I cannot believe it's really happening. "I will now put you through to Miss Ambrossio's cell phone so that you can exchange a few words in advance." A click and telephone crackle. I stand rooted to the spot. My amazement is so big that all blood has flowed out of my cock to push my heart into my throat. But I know it will be back soon. At this precise moment my roommate chooses to barge in happily through the door. "Hi!" says a girl's voice at the other end. My roommate is opening his mouth to speak but I shush him, swaying slightly as I do it. "Hi," I reply. "I'm Alex. You are mmm... Matt, Matthew?" She too seems to be reading this from a sheet. "Hi. I'm Matt," I say awkwardly. "Cool. Nice to meet you Matt!" She says that very politely and there doesn't seem to be a lot of pretense or haughtiness in her voice. I remember that Alex is not much older than I am. "Nice to meet you," I say. With the corner of my eye I can see an impatient expression on my roommate's face. He is obviously burning to tell me something and wants me very much to be finished with my call. I want to blast him out of existence. "Look, I've got to go cause we are already en route to the plane here," Alex is saying on the phone, "Can you pick us up at the downtown commercial airport, the one for the private jets in... saaay... 3 hours? I am afraid none of us has been to your school before and we are not very good with Mapquest." "Sure," I say, my throat drying. I'm thinking fast. Hell, where am I to get a car? "Nice!" she says, "We'll go over my photo shoot when I arrive. I hope you can advise us on some good spots for the pics because we weren't able to tell from that tour orientation page on your college's website" "Oh... ok," I don't seem to be able to say more, and my roommate is pacing around the room, stopping dead in front of me and clearly wanting to nudge me in the ribs. I draw up my courage and try a bold new line of hospitality in what I desperately hope comes across as a casual, offhanded tone, "Would you guys perhaps like to grab a bite in town when I come to pick you up? "Nah. Hahaha," she laughs, churning the contents of my balls with her voice. "Don't be silly! Matt, do you really think I am allowed to eat? Ok, I gotta go. Bye!" "Bye!" I say as Alex hangs up. I look at the LCD dial screen and, sure enough, her caller ID number is unavailable, blocked for security reasons, I don't doubt. I turn to face my roommate who is really nudging me in the ribs now. If utter bliss and absolute annoyance can share the same facial expression that would be mine right now. "Your parents coming to town?" my roommate says, disinterested, "Hey, listen. I'll be out tonight with Tessa, you know that gorgeous half-Asian bitch? She invited me to her place to cook dinner and watch a movie, and you know what that means," he does his unpleasant half-and-half blink-and-smirk combo that is supposed to pick up girls. "Well, I'm happy for you," I say. "Yea. So you can have your folks in the room, I don't care. Listen, do you have a condom? I know you use them to whack off..." he does his half-smirk of superiority again and I am almost on the verge of telling him about Alex to wipe it off his face. I resist. I open my drawer and hand him a condom from a box. His comments have not really registered with me as very mean or embarrassing because I do employ rubbers some of the time, and he must have noticed them go without me getting laid in the process. In any case, I know HE keeps a Fleshlight under his bed. The end of my Victoria's Secret catalogue is showing inside my drawer as I do this and my roommate stares transfixed at it for a while. "Hey, you know what? I heard Vicky's coming to town for some photo shoots or something. For real! You can lock yourself in the top-floor library bathroom with a pair of binoculars and whack yourself sick on their hot sluts as they sprawl on College Green in their small panties," He chuckles in an as for me, I'll get some ass tonight sort of way. "Maybe, I will," I say "Listen, man, can I borrow your car?" I know he is very touchy on that and almost never lets me have it. "Sure," he answers, "Pick up some ho-s, will ya?" and he flings the keys at me, clearly in too good a mood to refuse a random act of generosity when fate itself seems to be treating him so well this day. "Thanks!" I say and I am out and about, dragging half of my wardrobe along to the bathroom, desperate to find something laundered, without mold and not very wrinkled so I can wear it on my strange and unexpected Ambrosio rendezvous. Thank God, I have never worn that cheap Steve & Barry's stuff I bought last week because none of the three or so fancy Gap and American Eagle shirts I have qualify. I pick some garb, tear the labels out and set the cloths next to the shower stall for when I'm done bathing. Then I sit on the toilet seat and get myself off quickly and quietly, for I cannot risk meeting Alex with a big fat boner in my pants. Coming Soon Chapter 2!

Alexis Vignettes Three memories of her at the cabin... i. Short Little Skating Skirt On a winter afternoon, I went down into the dale behind the cabin, to the frozen pond, to watch Alexis practise her figures. She was 19 at the time. We kept the pond shoveled and in usable shape. We'd set up a bench on one side and sunk a fire pit into the ground during the previous summer. Alexis had left the cabin wearing her sweat pants, her white, woolen, corded turtleneck sweater, matching pair of woolen gloves, and carrying her white figure skates. Once at the pond, she sat down on the bench and pulled off her boots and socks, into her bare feet. Normally she would wear her sweat pants, but the weather that day was merely cold, rather than freezing. So she pulled off her sweat pants to reveal her really short skating skirt -- blue, A-line, pleated and bouncy. That day, she didn't wear any tights, but kept her legs bare and wore tiny, white lace panties under her little skirt. She slipped her bare feet into her skates and laced them up tight. The she got up and glided out onto the ice. Alexis' skating skirt barely covered her behind, and her panties rode up, so some of her bare cheeks were showing as the wind toyed with the hem of her skirt. She practised double lutz jumps and sit spins for a few minutes. I watched from the bench and listened to the crisp sound of her blades cutting the ice. When I next saw up her skirt, I could see that the spins had pulled her panties up between her cheeks. She didn't seem to notice that her bum was now mostly bared whenever her tiny skirt flipped up. But she had noticed, and came skating over to the bench, muttering under her breath. "My panties are too tight," she said as she sat down on the bench, slipped them down her bare thighs and off over her skates. She dropped them, crumpled in a ball, on the ice and skated back out to resume her practice. Now as she skated, the wind would lift her little skirt up to reveal she was bare underneath, especially when she skated backward. The chilly winter air swirled around her bare legs, fluttering the pleats up and down, her bareness winking in and out of view. Then she fell, and slid across the ice. Her skirt was crumpled up around her hips, and as she slowly got up, I could see her vulva. Melting ice ran down her sex in little rivulets -- as well as off her bare thighs and bum. She wiped herself with her gloves, pouted at me, and skated over to the bench, rubbing her bottom. Then she lay back in the snowbank, still wearing her ice skates and skirt, spread her legs and looked at me in that special way. I could see her breath in the chilly air as she panted. ii. Tiny Skirt With Bare Feet and Raspberries The first summer at the cabin was when Alexis was 18. One morning, she came down to the dock by the pond, where I was sitting. Her hair was in a pony tail and she had on a white, off-the-shoulder top that revealed her bare shoulders with no bra. She was wearing a black, short, flared mini skirt that rode higher on the back of her hips than at the front. That and the outward flare of the pleats, plus her bare legs, made it look extra short and spritely when it bounced as she walked. She had a handful of raspberries she had just picked on the way down from the cabin, and stuck them in her mouth one after the other like a happy six year old. She was oblivious to what I could hear as I listened intently to the sounds her mouth made as she ate them. As she ate, she stood up on her tiptoes, straightening her legs, and gazed out over the pond. I stared at her arched soles. She was in bare feet, and her soles were completely dirty from walking across the mud by the pond. Her wrinkled bare soles were covered in wet mud, and blades of grass were stuck underneath her toes. A breeze caught the hem of her skirt at the back and gently flared it up and away from her bare thighs. I leaned forward to try and see up her skirt and find out if she was wearing any panties. The hem fluttered, and I caught flashes of her bare cheeks. She sat down on the edge of the dock, her skirt briefly floating up and then down as she crouched. She fanned out the skirt's hem behind her as she sat down, placing her behind directly on the wooden dock. Her dirty bare feet had left tracks of mud the length of the dock, and she sat right down in them, the mud on the wood now pressing against her bare hips. She extended her legs out in front of her and arched her bare feet, keeping her legs straight and pointing her toes together to form a small pinnacle. She kept her bare feet arched and lined up together, keeping her delicate toes pointed, and dabbled them in the water. I listened to the quiet splashing as she cleaned her dirty feet. Her toes brushed against each other, hissing gently as wet, bare skin brushed against wet, bare skin. My eyes traveled from her dabbling, rubbing feet, up her taut calves and to her thighs. Her top had hitched up over her bare, flat stomach and her skirt hem inched up higher, creeping up her bare thighs. Keeping her feet arched, and her toes pointed, she drew up her knees toward her chest and the breeze billowed her skirt out at the sides, revealing the mud smears on her upper thighs -- and much, much more. When she could see that I saw, she popped the last raspberry in her mouth, pulled me into her, and kissed me with raspberry juice on her lips and raspberry pulp still on her impatient tongue. Then she took my hand, rubbed it against the mud on her thighs, and then guided it up against her slippery, wet spot. She was just 18, and I was much too old for her. iii. Little Pleated Cheer Skirt Alexis had moved in with me the day after her 19th birthday. I helped unpack her stuff and found a white, pleated cheerleader skirt with black and gold banding, along with a matching sweater. Alexis smiled when she saw me hold it up. "I wore that on the cheer squad at school," she said, "I guess you want to see me in it?" I just handed it to her and she jumped behind the door to put it on. Her jeans crumpled to the carpet with a clink of belt buckle. A moment of fumbling. Then she stepped out, wearing the skirt and sweater, in her bare feet. The skirt was so short, Alexis had to tug it down low on her hips to cover her behind. "I've grown another inch," she laughed, reflexively covering her behind with her hands when I leaned over to try and see up the back. "You must have enjoyed wearing that," I said. She nodded and smiled. "I had a secret game I played," she whispered mischievously. "Do you want to hear about it?" I nodded and smiled back. She came over and sat down beside me, holding her skirt down, and pressed her body into mine. I began trailing my fingers along her bare legs while she whispered in my ear. She had that 19-year old way of whispering, pressing her warm, moist lips against my ear, breathing out through her nose, and letting her tongue touch me. "On game days, all the cheerleaders had to wear their uniforms to class," she began. "At the game, we had to wear our flesh-coloured tights and spankies under the skirts, but during the day, in class, it didn't matter. So, I devised a way to get more guys out to the games, by wearing my cheer skirt with no panties. "I guess I was a cheerleader because I loved it when all the guys looked at me in my skirt and tight sweater, jumping up and down, and I sure couldn't do this at the games. So I fulfilled my little fantasy this way. If you watched me enough, you could spot the days when I wore nothing underneath: I kept my hair down and my legs bare. I also didn't wear the ankle socks with my uniform shoes. That was my secret code. "It was such a rush for me when I walked down the hall and felt my li'l skirt swishing around my bare legs and bare cheeks. I felt so bad and daring, but it felt so free. It wasn't as short on me as now, but wilikers, it was short, so I had to be careful to keep it brushed down at certain times. Sometimes I had to hold my breath to keep from losing my nerve, especially when going up the stairs. "When I walked up the stairs, I'd have to be careful to go slow so that the pleats in the back wouldn't bounce so much, but guys behind me could still look up and see up my skirt to my bare tush. In class I would prop my feet up on the book rack under my chair so guys might see up under my thighs, and maybe see up to where my thighs met my cheeks and, um... other stuff. "I'd get all hot and flushed, and feel this whooshing sensation in my ears whenever I'd see a guy staring fixedly under my skirt in class. It was the way his eyes would glaze over, and he'd stop being careful, in the hopes he'd catch a view of what maybe he thought he'd just seen. I'd start to cross and uncross my legs a lot, which would work my li'l skirt up higher. I'd get so wet, which could cause problems. I'd rub my thighs together, and stuff would get all slippery down there. If he was the right sort of guy, I'd quickly let him see. I'd chew on my pencil to keep my nerve. I'd be blushing hot red, and I could never meet his gaze once I'd opened my legs." By this point, my ear was sopping from where she'd been whispering against it, and she'd been fighting my probing hand until finally she had to hold it firmly to stop me from slipping it under her cheer skirt. We both knew that would come next anyway. There are other memories. I'll get to them. Angela Jaye dumps karaoke 01 I have my first week of work at Hilda's Hideout strip club behind me. Carefree Carrie trained me last Monday as the front door hostess and DJ Hard Times showed me what he expected from me on Thursday nights while I'm assisting him on the DJ stage. The hostess position wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. Greet the incoming customers, take the cover charge from them, walk them to a table and get groped. Rinse and repeat. Oh yeah, there tips too. Some are verbal tips on what I should do under the table, but most are green backs in the back pocket. However, it was the DJ assistant job that I was after. I may not want to sing anymore, but I still want to be on that stage. And believe me, DJ Hard Times is just making a joke when he refers to me as his little stage bitch. My official title is Senior Lighting Specialist. If you don't believe me, just check my Chang account. And because this is where I want to be, Hard Times can accidently bump up against me as much as he wants, for now. But never mind all that. First of all, stop it people, I am not a stripper, I just happen to take a little side work at a strip club. Secondly, I made a very profound discovery in my life. I don't know it took me so long to find them, but last week I discovered black Denim jeans. OMG, what a wonderful discovery. They are tight, they provide so much more coverage and they offer so much protection. My legs aren't on display like in the exercise shorts or a skirt, but these jeans look good on me. I think I may have found my new go to for casual evening wear. And who do you call when you find black Denim jeans and need some help matching the darker look? LOL, you guys may call the ghost chaser guys, but I called Suzie. I had to drag Suzie into this because my neighbor, Mrs. Tanner, who loves to make up my eyes, but has a habit of going middle-aged married woman smokey eyes too often. Plus, I like the little symbols that Suzie draws under or on the side of my eyes. I never know what they mean or imply, but she's a pretty good artist, so I let her go. Besides, no one has ever regretted visiting Suzie at her home. No one, I tell you, no one. It's a facial makeover with benefits. And thanks to the strip club atmosphere, black jeans with a sheer pullover is very acceptable. Sure, I had to bump up my bra selections to improve my look when I wear a sheer top, but I have Tonya to take care of that stuff for me. The jeans also offered those back pockets. Tips in the left and random guy's hands in the right. Of course, high tops are my favorite footwear choices. Although, last Thursday when I was operating one of the spot lights, I happened to illuminate the floor by mistake. I'll do a search this weekend for sexy rubber boots on the internet. Anyways, as my first solo day at the front door I had my hands full. I never thought about it before, but the guys (and a few girls) just keep coming and going. As I watched them come and go, I couldn't help but to wonder if the girlfriends are pissed off that their men come here or are they happy that their men come home drunk, hard and horny. It seems like a tough call to make. The night went on like that, all night. Maybe it's because there is always a Monday Night Game on or because guys just need their beer and titties. Either way, the bar was busy, the stage girls were busy and I needed jeans with bigger pockets because drunk guys tip pretty well. Closing time was a little scary. I don't know if this is the normal for strip clubs, but as soon as the last customer was out the door, the lights would come up and the party began. Ah, if Sneaky Susan made $400 tonight, she just spent $325 on drugs. I didn't join that party, but I did decide to figure out a way to help these girls make a few investments. I also decided that maybe, just maybe, I can grope back once in a while. I mean, there are some hot guys that make their way through this bar. I'll ask Carrie if she ever does that before I risk my job. Next up was my Thursday night as the Senior Lighting Specialist. DJ Hard Times gave me more freedom to move and groove, but he had his rules. However, he also didn't mind if I wandered off for a few minutes if the next song didn't require any lighting effects. So, I would wander off. Mostly to the front door podium to talk to Carefree Carrie and never to the smoking area on the outside of the building. There was a lot more going on in the smoking area than I could handle. The servers and dancers had a few rules too. I could mingle and walk by customers as slow as I wanted to, but I couldn't sit down and engage with the customers. As the new girl, I played by the rules. Besides, Carrie seems pretty cool and I didn't mind getting to know her. That's when I found out that she is also very forward and direct. "So, Angela Jaye, Tonya and Cobra stopped in for a drink last night." "Did Tonya have her tits out?" "Well, of course, silly. But never mind all that. She informed me of your reputation." "Oh, well, let's hear it. I mean, you're saying these are her words and not yours, right?" "Exactly. It seems that you are known as a cute girl who doesn't do anything with guys and doesn't have anything going on with girls either. It sounds like you live on an Island all by yourself. Is this true?" "Hey, I've been to Lover's Lane. I have a punch card to proof it." "OMG, your bully doesn't count. But I don't care about any of that. Tonya showed me some memes from Chang on her phone. If you need some help or relief, maybe I can let you do stuff to my butt. Oops, on my butt I mean. Is that something that you might be interested in? I think I have a cute butt." "All Tonya's words, right? LOL. OK, I'll bite. Where are we going with this? Just be honest with me Carrie." "Well, fine, but before I go on, let it be known that I'm wearing purple undies. Tonya may or may not have mentioned that you are taking her shopping tomorrow afternoon and it's no secret where our money goes around here." "Alright, we are close to honesty, so let me say this before I have to get back to the DJ stage. One, yes, you have a very cute little ass, but let's put that on hold for now. Two, I feel compelled to remind you that you are very petite and a heavy dose of drugs may hurt you, if you know what I mean. Three, are they bright purple or deep purple? Oops, Hard Times is waving. Time for me to go." "Bright. Was there an answer in there somewhere about tomorrow?" "Hmmm, leave your panties in my bag tonight before you leave. After that, if you're in Tonya's SUV tomorrow when she picks me up, then so be it." I gladly went back to the DJ stage to get my groove on. And yes, I gladly walked past as many tables as I could on my way to the stage. It's financially responsible to have someone else fund the shopping trips I take Tonya on and these customers will do, just like the karaoke fans in my previous life. And it was very telling that there was a purple thong in my back pack before I got back on the stage. Oh, that girl is quick and serious. Serious like the four-top at table 21. They were very serious about what they wanted to do to me and when. LOL, the when was right now. Sorry guys, but I'm working up here. The best you get is the occasional booty shot. Oh no, not body shots, just a few booty shakes. Like an idiot, I went back to the front door podium when DJ Hard Times gave me another break. I learned quickly that the best place to check your phone was behind the podium. The management frowned upon cell phone use on the floor, so I would hide behind Carrie, just like all the other girls. And what do you know, from back here, she does have a nice butt. Child birth may rip her in half, but until then, she's good to go. "Who you texting Angela Jaye? Tonya already said she would pick me up tomorrow, so no take backs." "I'm not texting. I'm pre ordering a few things from the clothing store for tomorrow. Our assigned personal shopper, Frankie, likes to take my requests and change them into something else. It just saves time to order my stupid stuff and give her time to select something nice." "Ah, what is that?" "It's called a breastplate. I've wanted one for a while." "So, you can tease guys with your boobs and not do anything else?" "Shut it, Carrie. The advertisement sounds like something I could try out. And these are for Tonya. Imagine them cut into short shorts up to here." "Ah, Bib Overalls? Does she work on the "U Pick" veggie farm?" "Hah, wait until you see the wonders that Tori can do. Just imagine that her nipples are right here, just barely covered. She will redefine the term side boob." "That's all fine and dandy, but do I have anything in your pre order?" "We don't know each other very well, so I told Frankie and Tori that I'm bringing them a very cute and very petite toy to play with. Don't bother wearing a bra tomorrow." "Sounds good. Thank you. Hard Times is waving for you and Ice Pick is waving at you in a different way. Are you up to giving Ice Pick a hand job tonight? He's a good tipper." "Ugh, I'm not quite there yet. Can't one of the other girls hold him off for tonight?" "We'll see, but he is totally staring you down. So, can I tell people that I'm your secret girlfriend now?" "LOL, we'll talk tomorrow during our drive about how secrets work." "Well, how are you going to talk if I'm fingering banging your mouth? I mean, according those memes, your community likes that kind of thing. I'm trying to be the good secret girlfriend here." Yup, I headed back to the stage and put my headset back on. Seriously, how does she do this? Now her purple bra is in my back pack and I only bumped up against one customer on the way here. Nope, I do not know what to do about Ice Pick and nope, I'm not about to ask where he got his nick name. I've seen that movie. The only thing I could think of was to pre order a pair of Denim shorts for Carrie and send her a picture text. LOL, that worked because there goes Sexy Sidney and there goes Ice Pick. I'm assuming that Carrie set that up. Was I curious? Oh, hell yes. It cost me a few hand strokes over DJ Hard Times crotch, but he gave me another break. Seriously, all I wanted to do was to peek. I grabbed Carrie by the hand and made a quick exit towards the smoking area. We crept to the corner and peeked our heads around and found Sexy Sidney on her knees and she had all of Ice Pick in her mouth and was working him for all she was worth. And let me tell you, Sidney is very attractive and has a body that every stripper would want. She didn't know that we were watching, but Ice Pick did. His eyes were focused on us. I knew that Carrie was pushing my jeans zipper down and pushing the front open like the girls do at the beach, but I didn't stop her. I actually liked it and I was in too much of a trance to stop her. But then she shocked me. She reached in my open jeans and positioned me straight up. I've never had my dick pointed straight up before. "OMG Carrie, stop that. It might send the wrong message. Besides, Ice Pick looks happy with the way things are." "Straight up means "maybe next week" I think. Besides, look how his eyes are fixed on you. He's thinking about you right now. He's moments away from blowing his nut down your throat. So, did you want to touch me or something?" Damn, he was staring me down and grunting in my direction, but technically, I'm way over here and Sidney is doing all the work. And because of the trance I was in, I didn't realize that Carrie was slowly walking us closer to the action. And when I say closer, I mean we were right next to them, just behind Sidney. That's when I knew Sidney knew we were there because she pulled off of Ice Pick at the right moment and let him fly right at me. Hah, being small like I am allowed me to jump out of the way. I mean, these jeans are new, bitch. Without any further fanfare, Ice Pick left, just like a guy and gave me notification. "Next week Angela Jaye, next week." Hah, I was ready with a clap back. "You know where the tip jar is, right Ice Pick?" As we walked back to the door, Carrie told me to keep my jeans pushed open and have fun finishing my night on the DJ stage. "Angela Jaye, do you think that qualifies as a 3-Way?" "LOL, did you already post that it was a 3-Way?" "Yes, but only with one picture. You know, because I'm the good secret girlfriend." "And tomorrow you're going to tell me what your end game is? I mean, you can finger bang my mouth and talk, right?" "I just want a better life and I think being your secret will help me with that. I mean, I deserve caviar and not twinkies. And when I say caviar, I mean chicken nuggets. You know, hot and heathy food. Besides, you just fingered me, so you owe me." "I did not finger you. OMG, I did, didn't I? I am so sorry." "Forget it. We're a couple now, so it's alright. And just so you know, I hacked your Chang account and deleted that snake bitch." "Viper? She is my friend from Candi's Corner." "Never mind all that. We'll discuss that tomorrow. So, how about a blonde wig on this Monday?" OMG, I was ready to go as soon as the place closed. I decided it was best if I didn't watch all these tips go up in smoke, or up their noses or up their veins, literally. Carrie walked me out, gave me a kiss and stated that we would see each other tomorrow. I reminded her again, about the dangers of doing things that a good fake girlfriend shouldn't be doing and went on my way. End Angela Jaye dumps karaoke 01

Chapter One Anna looked into the mirror and gave herself a nod of approval: the dark Porsche glasses nicely finished her disguise job. Normally, Anna didn't mind some attention, or even bucket loads of attention. In fact, she couldn't live without it for extended periods of time. But sometimes, discretion was in place. Today was one of those "undercover" days. Few realised how good she actually was in going undercover, since it usually didn't make it onto the cover of tabloids! To begin with, she had gathered up her hair in a surprisingly compact tuft. Who would suspect her famous long golden tresses hidden in there! Then there was the LA-Lakers T-shirt. She had never worn it before, and it would blend her perfectly into the crowd. With no bra underneath it, her firm tits could do well without, at least when she wasn't bouncing around a court. With the minuscule shorts, she accentuated her nicely rounded ass, but she tied a sweater around her waist to cover that delicious asset for the time being. Panties weren't needed today. Anna loved the special feeling of a free- breathing pussy anyway. It helped her to get in the right mood, especially having people around who had NO IDEA about the nudity underneath her thin layer of clothes. And what about the shapely legs? Oh well, you can't have everything! This hot summer day would quickly become a torture if she had to hide THOSE also. After a last once-over, Anna left her room. She checked out at the desk, smiling at the receptionist when he failed to recognize her under the false name. It was only after stepping into the non-descript rental car that she felt completely at ease, though. It was just very hard for her to avoid being watched, whether deliberately downgraded from goddess to anonymous chick, or not. After all, that's why she had chosen the grey Buick; any help to tone down her splendid brilliance was more than welcome. With the printed road planner directions spread out on the passenger seat, she set off to cruise the LA highways. At the top of the first printed page, it read: DESTINATION: LAKERS HEALTH SOUTH TRAINING FACILITY As she left the parking lot, Anna's thoughts drifted to memories about the last few months. This adventure had started way back, when Anna went to watch the LA Lakers in the NBA finals last year. Enrique had been able to fix some tickets for exorbitantly expensive seats, about as close as possible to the field. He saw it as a great investment in public visibility. It was still hot between them back then, she remembered. But thinking back, it also struck her that it could actually have been that very same day that things began to go downhill. The smile on her face only fainted momentarily. Anna had found out more than enough reasons in the mean time to realize that their current, temporary break-up wasn't such a bad thing after all. Anyway, as they were watching the match, after about ten minutes our Russian beauty had experienced a "revelation." Not a religious one, but an *erotic* revelation. The man who joined the game at that moment had literally made her jaw drop and made her feel strange in her belly. Most of the players were big and powerful, but THIS guy was in a class of his own. He awakened feelings in Anna that she had never expected to be there. Feelings that even shocked her to some degree. His colossal appearance, one big black shiny block of muscles, reminded her of... It reminded her of something she barely dared to think of, and it wasn't human for sure!! The next hour or so, Anna concentrated on his muscles in motion. The cables that were running over his arms and legs. His powerful charges with which he blew away any opponent, sometimes three in one go! It was an awesome display of force and power. A man who made a girl feel SAFE. Not some wimpy Latino Casanova-wannabe!! From time to time, he would return to the bench, sitting just a few feet from her. He seemingly covered almost her entire field of vision with his impressive bull-neck. Anna didn't remember who won the game that night. But in her mind, there was no doubt! Obtrusive honking of a car-horn forced Anna back into the present. Annoyed, she looked at the car in the lane next to her. "Olé chica! Oleeeeey! Aye caramba, want to join our little party?" A bunch of Latino machos, all but the driver hanging half out of the car windows, were cheering and whistling at her. They were clearly piss drunk as hell. She had concealed her identity, but certainly not her divine looks! She still looked as nubile as they come. And it worked like syrup works for all kinds of flying vermin... That's how things always went when she ended up in yet another traffic jam. The LA roads were no different from Florida in that respect. At least, at home she had the Porsche. But the powerhouse in the back that she so often used to get rid of morons like these wasn't of any use in a traffic jam anyway. "You lookin' lonely, senorita. Why not come with us? You like! Tequila, tequila!" What a bunch of retarded morons! Almost as she decided to go into "total ignore" mode, she realized she had to take the first upcoming exit. Immediately, Anna's mischievous side took the upper hand and came up with a naughty plan. "Caramba, baby! Your gringo is one lucky bastardo! Hahaha." Some temperaments were seriously overheating. Time to blow their fuses! After checking that the exit was completely free, Anna made sure to remain side by side with the car of the annoying gang. Instead of acting like they didn't exist, she played the card of provocation; the guys burst out in ever louder cheering when she turned towards them and suggestively licked her lips. "Hmmmm..." "MADRE DIOS. Come play with us, senorita!" Then, at the very last moment, Anna not only lifted her shirt up, but immediately afterwards also took off her glasses, and winked! It was comical how the tough bunch silenced completely in utter astonishment. Anna stuck out her tongue as the final number of her little show and yanked her steering wheel to the right. With full throttle, she left the highway behind. In the rear-view mirror, she could see how one of the guys landed with his face flat on the blacktop. "WHAHAHAHAHA..." She couldn't help bursting out in laughter, barely able to breathe! It was good for the poor guy that they were almost standing still when he lost balance, hanging out of the window. When her belly finally calmed down, she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Damn that was fun. That was REALLY fun." Even if the rest didn't work out as planned, she would still have enjoyed her share of thrills today. "Yup Murzik baby, you still have a naughty side!" she spoke to herself. "Maybe you should do this more often." If it wouldn't have been so awkward, she would have loved to even flash them her pussy. Now THAT would have been something. As for the risk of it getting public, it was so surrealistic that nobody would believe them anyway. Anna knew all too well that she was one hot little number, and she had always enjoyed a tease. She loved to tan topless in the backyard when her cousin Iwan was on visit. To watch him drool all over her each time was a delight. One could swear the bulge in his swimming pants got bigger with every next family visit! One day, she would put him out of his misery, she pondered. But first he had to simmer a little longer in his own boy-cum. He was still a bit too young, but once he would reach the age of some of the ball boys she had seduced, it would be rather unfair to not grant a family member the same as them, wouldn't it? (*note: read the author's first Anna story to learn more) Back to the Lakers... After that exciting evening in LA, she had found out that she wasn't the only female with secret fantasies about this awesome hunk. For example, the ladies on the exhibition tour she was playing, because of her injury, turned out to be surprisingly well informed about him; many a giggle was exchanged in the dressing rooms while they talked about his 7"1 and 340 lbs. About his big, skilful hands and fingers, and his athletic abilities. All properties that made these girls nervously chuckle with a glimmer of desire in their eyes. Assumptions about "certain" body parts got the biggest share of discussion, though. Picture those scenes as a bunch of fisherwomen boasting about the size of their biggest catches... Every girl wanted Shaquille O'Neal, the imposing center of the LA Lakers. And Shaq wanted every girl. It was the perfect symbiosis. Free market economy at its best. But none of the other players had any real ambition to go beyond just dreams and fantasies. That's where Anna was different. Anna was ambitious in everything. And Anna usually got what she wanted: either through money, with a smile, or just with her looks and a "if you help me with this, you might make a chance" attitude. The Russian had also the benefit that at her level, her sport had taught her to work meticulously towards a goal. Indeed, her determination often stunned people who only knew her superficially. It was a determination that had its roots in more than just one breeding ground. One could point to how her parents raised her, and undoubtedly also to some genetic influence. It was not John Doe who had the guts to move from Moscow to Florida. Parents Alla and Sergey had shown great courage and persistence to endure the horrific bureaucracy. It was both an example for their daughter, and a proof of predestination. Once the dollars of prize money and, foremost, endorsements and photo- shootings started to flood in, yet another factor became involved. All the success and idolization threatened to turn the young Anna into a spoiled brat. When you're used to getting everything, everyone and everywhere by merely issuing a command, venting a wish or faking a smile, a "no" becomes hard to swallow. Although Anna was already a few years beyond this almost inevitable phase in the life of a young celebrity, she still suffered from some leftover conditioned behavior. She tried hard and honestly to not lose her temper when things didn't go her way. But the nagging feelings of frustration deep inside, she couldn't eliminate completely yet. She was determined to get exactly what she wanted, no less! Not that she was often in such a position. Her natural charm and beauty were spearheaded by a cute smile that made men, bar none, melt on the spot. Not only figuratively, but sometimes also literally, since some seemed to actually PRODUCE a spot in her presence. As a result, she was treated like a princess, and words like "no", "difficult" and "impossible" were almost extinct in Anna Kournikova-land. Nearly the same had happened to the word "wish." Anna still used it, but somehow it had become an empty word for her. Whereas ordinary people reserved the term for really special occasions or desires (and had an abundance of unfulfilled ones), the Russian had a hard time to still come up with one. Whenever she saw a falling star, she just gave up trying after a few minutes! It had dawned on her only a few months ago. One day, she was surfing the Net when she stumbled upon a list of things people absolutely loved to experience, at least once in their lives. #1 on the list was, by quite some margin, "swimming among dolphins." An eerie feeling struck her when reading this. It was precisely what she had done a few years ago already, at the age of 17, in the Melbourne Zoo. Yet another sponsor gift during a Grand Slam. Could this be any more symbolic? She had also flown a MIG jet airplane. She had petted a tiger. She had met the President of the United States in person. She had worked with the best photographers in the world in the most exotic locations. She had worn creations of the top couturiers. She had driven an Indy car and even a bob sledge. The list went on and on... Had she ALREADY consumed the icing on the cake of life? There had been plenty of examples of other people, in such a position, who had reverted to drugs or even suicide in extreme cases. Strange things can happen in the heads of people who thought they had seen it all. And indeed, the months that followed hadn't been the happiest in Anna's young life. Those few targets she had still set, like winning a tournament for once, seemed elusive now that she was hit by injuries and the evolution in women's tennis. Objectively speaking, there was still hope. But since she had attached herself to 'Latin Lover' Enrique Iglesias, it had become harder to focus on her game. She had unconsciously scrapped a tournament victory from her list of remaining wishes. Instead, she now focused on... Yes, on what? Nobody, including Anna herself, seemed to have a clue sometimes. But in the new biotope Enrique dragged her into, this seemed the norm. Spicing up celebrity parties and 'being noticed' in general, raised your status in those circles. Indeed, she seemed to focus on her fame instead of her game. For a while she had joined her new flame in that artificial rollercoaster, but it was hardly satisfying in the long term. It only made her mind go number and number, her joy in life becoming smaller and smaller. Smiles were still there, but only in front of the camera and after considerable effort. But then, there was that night at the Lakers... For the first time in a long period, Anna had felt her heartbeat speed up. Her hand palms became sweaty. A blush of excitement appeared on her puffy cheeks... and between her legs it got rather soppy! That's when she realized, in a flash, that the Internet poll had only covered the 'politically correct' desires. There was ANOTHER list, in the back of the heads of people. She knew all too well she figured on many of those lists herself. And the top entry on her personal secret wish list was parading in front of her, on the field. What she also realized was that this wish was not a matter of simply asking or demanding from her staff. This had to be WORKED for. This needed a PLAN. FOCUS. A new challenge to put her teeth into. JUST what she needed. Chapter Two Anna stopped for traffic lights and tried to concentrate on the directions. That's harder than you think when you're horny! On days like this, when she had her mind set on sex, almost anything seemed to trigger her. Recalling memories about Shaq, her little adventure with the Latino gang, combined with the stimulating feeling of her bare pussy against the fabric of her shorts had all accumulated and started to improve the blood circulation around certain private areas. And Anna felt her blood was not the only body juice that was streaming well. This girl was glowing in anticipation! Even on a cold winter's day she would have been sweating. The fact that one of those Latinos on the freeway had, from a distance, actually resembled Enrique a bit (or was it her sexed-up mind playing tricks?) didn't help. Yeah, they had decided to give each other a little freedom. But she had fallen for his looks in the first place and still had a soft spot for his type. Taste, even BAD taste, doesn't change overnight! Her crush on her newfound Black Stallion was of a different order still; while she could at least IMAGINE Enrique as the father of her offspring, her new obsession was merely the work of the Selfish Horny Gene inside her. Soon after her desire had started materializing, she had worked out her strategy and undertaken the first steps. That was after discarding her initial idea to infiltrate the "Lakers Girls," the traditional cheerleader club of the Lakers. She realized she was too famous to make THAT plan work. And besides, she probably would be fucked by all the other players, too, in that case. She wouldn't really mind with most of them, but still... But it was via those Lakers Girls that Anna got the bulk of the information that she was going to need. Naturally, she started attending as many Lakers' games as possible, and took every opportunity to socialize with the unofficial players' harem. They turned out to be quite nice girls, really. They couldn't quote Shakespeare or name two South American countries, let alone dance, but they were great at smiling artificially and giving head! They also sucked at saying "NO." Careful interrogations showed Anna that every single one of them had joined the Girls via the same procedure. Now all she had to do was to follow the same recipe... And it looked like she was a perfect ingredient. Step one consisted of showing up to cheer the players' cars after a training or match, in scanty textile. Usually, there would be a large group of semi- naked girls crowding around the exit of the Lakers' training centre parking lot. The parade of limos, Rolls, SUVs and Italian sports cars would then drive by at a snail's pace and invite chicks by stopping at their height. One simply had to look plain gorgeous and/or sluttish enough to be noticed. That part couldn't go wrong in her eyes. Step two? Step two took place in the backseat and was for most not only a means, but also the eventual goal. Naturally, Anna was no different in that respect, and again had no doubts about the positive outcome. She just had to make sure that only the front car would stop, since this was the Shaqmobile, of the man who had naturally imposed himself to draft his fuck toys first in line. "SHIT. Why are these damn printouts always so confusing!" Anna had pulled the car to the side of the road and was trying to locate landmarks on her map... in vain! Normally she was driven wherever she went and didn't have to figure out directions on her own. And it looked like she didn't have much talent for it, either. Or maybe it was just the usual female lack of orientation in our complex 3-D universe. The 2-D map proved challenging enough already, as illustrated by her frustrated sighs. The sound of ticking against the windshield made her look up. "Having problems, miss?" A police officer was peeking inside, through the open window, and probably also into her loose shirt. That was just a guess though, because of the dark glasses he was wearing. "You know you can't park here, darling." Anna loved his condescending tone. NOOOOT! "Oh, hi officer. I'm sorry but I..." "WAIT! DON'T say anything. Give me your lovely hand, if you don't mind, miss, please?" "But... what?" "No worries. Chief McNamara just wants to read your hand. A little hobby of mine." "Eh, sure... Why not, eh?" [What a moron!] Chief McNamara pulled Anna's hand through the window and started "reading," with far more stealthy desire than Anna found decent for a law enforcer. He looked more like a hand-fetishist to her, the way he was gently stroking the back of her hand and her palm. "Miss..?" "Gradenko." "Right... Miss Gradenko has no secrets for me. Your lines tell me that you're here to become a Lakers Girl. Am I right or not?" Anna looked stunned, and didn't need to answer. "And she is lost. She needs to turn around and go left at the previous crossing if she wants to find the training center." "How..?" "Have a good day, miss. The lines look promising; just make sure to always cover your back!" He turned around before Anna would notice the fun he was having. Little did she know that he brought this act here just about every Wednesday. Each and every week he had to drive out to pick up stranded blondes (not that anybody FORCED him to), like kids that had gotten lost at the beach. And bring them to the Lakers Gods when they descended from their Olympus. But he wasn't jealous. Every once in a while, he could get a piece of the pie. The Lakers not only brought a lot of money to the city, but also a lot of sex. Anna drove off, still wondering about the hows and why's, but soon found the right route now. Only minutes later, she mixed with an army of other girls who were going into battle. As the parade of player-cars approached, the road was lined with a seething tapestry of bright bikini colors, and skin tones from the palest pink to the deepest black. An ear-deafening wave of cheers built up the closer they came, as collective hysteria took hold of the crowd. Girls seemed to lose their minds, some even (intentionally?) their bikini-tops as the first cars drove by, slowing down to better inspect the assorted meats. The sound and excitement were soon becoming almost unbearable, and started to pull more and more girls into downright delirium. Anna stood out, as she remained calm and composed. She was tried and tested against several kinds of hysteria, mostly involving hordes of teenage boys. It all passed above her head, and she felt superior to the chaotic armada of bimbos and cheap amateur whores around her. She had everything to be a true beacon of class and natural beauty in a turbulent sea of future also-rans. This was going to be easier than she could have hoped! Although it may have looked like a formality, tennis had taught Anna to take no chances. Among chickens, a peacock doesn't need to unfold its tail, but nevertheless he does it anyway! Likewise, she released her long blonde tresses to reveal an awesome golden waterfall, dropped the sweater to better display her tight ass and fit upper legs, and put on her famous bright smile. With all weapons on edge, nothing could go wrong. Thus, Anna was only *slightly* worried when the lead car stopped the first time well ahead of her area. She knew it was her target's car. A big black modified van, the license plate started with "SHAQ". The windows were blinded, but she imagined him with his nose pressed against them on the inside, licking his lips while checking out the goods on display. Surely he had good taste and an eye for quality? There was no reason to panic, Anna told herself. Nevertheless, she became a little restless next, as a window was pulled down and a pair of ultra-sluttish, large-breasted black bimbos went totally crazy. Apparently, His Greatness was signaling THEM to join him inside! Anna couldn't believe her eyes when the driver stepped out, with the engine still running, walked around the car and let the hysterical pair into the back. Their exciting screams filtered out of the cacophony as soon as the door closed behind them. The van quickly picked up speed again and whizzed by... past a dumbfounded and speechless Anna! Immediately, the Russian could feel the usual frustration build up inside. It looked like she wasn't going to get what she wanted, and this could mean only ONE thing: she was going to SCREAM it out!! "YOU STUUUUUPID BASTARD!!!" Anna's head looked like a red beet. It was an outbreak of helpless anger, devoid of any hope. She had traveled all that far, for NOTHING. What a nightmare this day was turning into! What a pitiful life she had! And those NBA stars were all just primitive cavemen! But about 30 yards further, the van suddenly came to a halt in a cloud of burning rubber, the screeching of brakes ripping through the air. Still in a state of shock, Anna witnessed how the door on the other side was opened and the busty couple was thrown out, protesting loudly. A second later, the driver put the car in reverse and delivered it right in front of our girl. Once more, the heavy door swung open. This time there was no hysteria and no confusion; as soon as the two babes had entered Shaq's van, the crowd had concentrated on the next in line, leaving Anna alone at her spot. Had Shark Shaq bitten the bait after all? As the door opened, the loud tones of a typical second-rate rap song joined the chugging exhaust and the roaring engine. Then everything got silent. For a second or two, Anna stared into the empty blackness. Then she cut the knot and jumped inside, engulfed in total darkness as the door closed behind her. Chapter Three Gradually, her eyes started adjusting to the lack of bright daylight. First, two shiny white rows of teeth, the symmetry broken by a single gold one, materialized. Then she picked up a variety of flashy gold plated necklaces and rings. Finally, the gaps were filled in by an enormous silhouette. It spoke... "Welcome to the Shaqmobile, young lady!" The welcoming speech, short and to the point, was followed by a CLICK. Suddenly the interior bathed in atmospheric pinkish light, revealing the identity of the jewelry shop next to her. It was, indeed, the one and only Shaquille O'Neal himself, who saw his grin reflected in his young pickup's dark glasses. Anna let her eyes wander around; the interior of the back of the van seemed completely adjusted to its owner's scale and decadence. On the backside was a luxury brown leather seat over the entire width. Then, facing it, there was another single seat on the driver's side. The leather was hemmed up with gaudy purple material, stitched to it with gold wire. Behind the passenger seat, a fridge and bar were installed while the gap in the middle contained a flat screen with apparently a computer connected to it (at least there was a mini- keyboard visible). Shaq himself was sitting on the skin of some close-to-extinction feline. Apart from the jewelry, he was stripped to the waist, wearing only a reversed baseball cap and boxer shorts. Both were in the well-known Lakers colors. With his albatross-arms stretched out on top of the back seat, his torso seemed to fill the interior completely. That's what they call 'wall-to-wall'! Anna tried to catch her breath, her mouth half-open. The strong impression Shaq made on her right now, from this close, surprised even her. She should have realized that something that looks so big, even from a distance, turns out to be intimidatingly giant when you get anywhere up close. Startled, she was looking for words to break the silence. "Well, aren't you going to introduce yourself to Shaq and his buddy Wilson? Sweetie, meet Wilson, my personal driver. Wilson, this is...?" Only now that the basketball legend pointed at him, Anna noticed the driver peeking between the two front seats. "Hello, miss!" Somehow, the idea of having the company of a third person, seemed to comfort the otherwise so extrovert girl and loosen up her tongue. "Anna, my name is Anna. Glad to meet you, Wilson." She did her best effort to hide her disdain with a smile. The big guy who's warm and sticky hand she was shaking, reminded her of one of those cliché fat rappers. The type that hired lingerie models for their videos, in the hope to turn the shootings into filthy orgies. Wilson was BIG indeed. For most, it was difficult to believe that he and Shaq once formed a reputable basket-duo as youngsters in the slums. Drafting them for the neighborhood championships was an assurance against defeat. Shaq had gone on to become an NBA legend, but Wilson had apparently lacked the talent and character. Or maybe it was that every time his mate got a vertical adolescent growth spurt, Wilson seemed to get a horizontal one. It hadn't managed to drive them apart though. After all those years, they still got along with each other as if nothing had happened since their childhood. They were hand in glove. Shaq had no problem sharing some of his success with his buddy, who he had adopted as his driver/personal security guard. While Wilson only allowed the Chosen Chicks to approach Shaq, Shaq did him favors back. His $65 million-contract with Reebok, for example, contained a special clause. And so it happened that Wilson appeared in his very own donut commercial. "Enough formality. What can Shaq do for this lovely lady?" The silhouette turned towards Anna and landed a big warm paw on her left knee. Humming the tune of "Crazy in Love", he drummed along with his fingers and slowly crawled up Anna's thigh. His eyes lustfully focused on the area where her soft skin tunneled into the loose shorts. "HOLD IT, BIG BOY!" Shaq froze, clearly surprised. "Are you afraid to look me in the eyes, or what?" Anna pointed at the dark glasses she was still wearing. Shaq laughed, a bit relieved. For a second there, he thought it was again one of those annoyingly late "NO"-girls. There should be a federal law against that kind of cruel teasing! As a girl, you knew what to expect when you boarded the Shaqmobile. "Of course not! You're right; it's no style to keep those enchanting eyes hidden. Let me help you." His hand left Anna's thigh (already she longed after the return of his warm touch) and lifted the glasses from her face... only to drop them instantly on the floor! "By the God Almighty Wilt Chamberlain!" Wilson joined his boss in his surprise. The girl with the sheepish grin on her face was now finally recognized by both as the world-famous tennis babe. "To be more precise: Kournikova, Anna Kournikova. But friends call me 'Murzik'." She enjoyed the amazement she caused in the two men. Anna craved little ego- boosts like these. Even more so because Shaq was probably a lot harder to amaze than ordinary guys. "Well, aren't you going to say something?" Now she also gave him a taste of his own medicine... Surprisingly, it was Wilson who recovered first. "Gee... Welcome, Miss Kournikova. Something in the back of my mind had already recognized you. I've heard a lot about you, and I am even a bit of a fan! Welcome aboard our little driving sanctuary." "Euh, yeah! Pleased to meet you," Shaq now also contributed. "Glad to hear that I'm welcome." (It would have been earth-shattering for Anna to find out that she was NOT welcome somewhere!) "Certainly, certainly! Wow, you can say that it's a bit of a surprise. Why not just pay me and the mates a visit in the dressing rooms after a match? I mean, I've noticed you in the stands quite often lately. We don't BITE, you know. And just about everyone in the team is a fan." "Ah, you know all too well how it would go in that case. The media would be all over it. We wouldn't be able to do the things we want to do, or talk about what we really want to talk about, would we? It's much better like this, incognito, in the privacy of your own van." A strange atmosphere settled itself now. Shaq was acting rather reserved and stiff, not sure how to behave himself. Each word he spoke gave away a growing disinterest and apathy. Not only didn't he associate this place with normal conversations, he was also puzzled about the Russian's intentions. In any case, he didn't expect much exciting to happen, so his libido was put to sleep, at least temporarily. As for Anna, she found out reality can be slightly more complex than the simple scenarios developing themselves in a horny girl's brain. Her numerous nightly fantasies, hands between legs, had never contained a Wilson. They DID contain a horny and "energetic" Shaq, not a lethargic bear in hibernation. While chatting, she was trying to figure out how to elegantly bridge this gap between fantasy and reality. And how to write the Fat Pig out of the scenario, as he ruined her appetite!! "So, doesn't it sometimes get too much, all this over-the-top behavior of your fans?" Anna nodded in the general direction of the hysterical mass. "I know *I* sometimes feel like having a break." "Oh, of course it can be annoying at times. But they are my fans, so I try my best to always treat them with respect. I'm sure you try too?" "Yeah, I know the struggle. Especially the ball boys can be quite pushy at times. You wouldn't *believe* some of the silliness I've experienced with them. Sometimes they expect more than a signature, if you know what I mean." She gave Shaq a naughty wink. Whatever she was going to come up with, it was important to keep him at least lukewarm, so he would be easy to get up to working temperature. She had to keep the conversation going, and try to throw out some bait in the process. "Oh yeah, fans can be really obtrusive at times, you don't have to tell me! "Say, I was wondering what went wrong with the two ladies you let out?" "Oh... they... didn't go in the same direction as we in the end." "Were they trying something? Did they bother you?" "How do you mean? No, no... They expected a lift to the city, but we were heading straight to Shaq's Palace, outside town." "Ah good... You know, when I saw you sitting there without a T-shirt, the first idea I had was that they were hunting memorabilia with a bit too much enthusiasm," she grinned. "You know I once had a fan pull down my mini-skirt, while I was entering a practice-court through a thick row of spectators. That was a bit of a scare, I can tell you. And quite embarrassing how I was standing there in my panties." "I'd kill if anyone did that to me!" Shaq chuckled. He looked like he was loosening up a bit already. Anna's female intuition told her Shaq had already effectively pulled down her panties in thoughts. "He he, I guess it depends when it happens, and who does it." "Hmmm??" "With a bit of bad luck, I would have lost my panties as well! Since that day, I've doubled my bodyguard staff. A body like mine needs to be guarded well, it seems. I'm sure, with a Hercules-frame like yours, you can take care of yourself?" Anna made sure to inject an unmistakable tone of desire into that last comment. At the same time, her eyes were practically eating "Hercules" alive. For the moment, she kept her hands to herself though. "Hahaha! Thanks for the compliment. I guess you can say that. But when there are as many as on days like this, they could overpower even Shaq. No, the only time when I have trouble handling fans is when they ask for money." "How's that?" "Well, last week for example I had this kid asking me to pay the kidney- transplant of his brother. They just know I can't say 'NO'. Good that I signed that $65 million contract last year!" "You WHAT???" Shaq repeated, with an intonation as if he was talking about the weather: "Like I said, I signed a $65 million dollar contract with Reebok last year. Or was it 67? Can't remember." Immediately, Anna fell out of her role; the careful teasing, the suggestion... it was wiped out of her brain by genuine shock and indignation. She had always been proud about being one of the best-paid people in the sports world. In fact, sometimes she put more energy and determination into THAT than into her game. And now she was - seriously - overpowered in that area by some lousy basketball player. "You're JOKING, right? Nobody can wrest THAT much money!" "Shaq never jokes about money. And he's paid according to his value. His TRUE value." "Ah, come on! I'm in the spotlights on AND off the court, ALL the time. AND Mister, in an INDIVIDUAL sport, where matches often take almost two hours!" "YOUR matches also?" Shaq produced an evil grin. Anna didn't pay attention and droned on: "... while you play a stupid team sport. And still you would make more than double of what I do? That's just not honest! What did I say? It's downright IMMORAL!" "Hahaha! Don't make me laugh. It's perfectly normal for Shaq to have everything that other people have, but BIGGER. It seems you still have to get used to my scale, young lady!" "So you think, because you're bigger, you're BETTER at everything, eh? Or maybe because you're a *man*, even?" Anna, competitive as she was, couldn't just take that. She was going to show him! "Well, let me ask you THIS: did anyone ever write a SONG about you, eh? I have my own SONG, buddy!" Shaq didn't utter a word, but instead he turned on the stereo again and put the volume on 10. The same ordinary rap tune as before rang out of the speakers, torturing Anna's eardrums. "Yeah, blaq supaman (blaq supaman) Everybody know yeah, yeah (Shaq supaman) Future above them all Barney Rubble (everybody know) (Shaq supaman) future flex T.W.IsM. the world is mine (everybody know) all mine (Shaq supaman) yeah, yeah Uh (Shaq diesel) yeah (everybody know) Yeah (Shaq supaman) " Shaq shouted to get on top of the unbearable racket. "DO YOU HEAR THIS? THIS IS MY SONG, I WROTE AND SANG IT MYSELF." Then he opened up a small drawer in the middle console and took out three CD cases. He waved them right before Anna's eyes and turned down the music. "... and these are the three CD's that I produced thus far. 750,000 sold presently. Not bad eh?" Anna tried to say something, but at first the words remained stuck. She was growing beet-red again. "BIG DEAL! That'music' is always the same boring shit. Latino Rock, on the other hand... Anyway, I bet you don't have a decent website. MINE is one of the most-visited on the web. The computer guy told me last week that they had upgraded to a 69-bit machine because the old one couldn't keep track any longer!" Shaq kept smiling. He couldn't help thinking by himself that he wouldn't mind a bit of 69 with this

"girl of 69-bit"... Again, he remained silent. But now he fetched the wireless keyboard and put it on his knee. He tapped a few keys, and the flatscreen lit up. A browser window appeared, and five seconds later Anna was staring at the front page of Shaq.net over a satellite connection. It was just as flashy, and had just as many useless features focused on selling stuff as her site. The deep tan of Anna's face had acquired a distinctive red shine. For a stubborn and proud girl like her, all this humiliation almost equaled a declaration of war! She had meanwhile completely forgotten about what she was here for with Shaq. Agitated, she snatched the keyboard from "that moron"'s hands, and typed the address of Octagon, her agency. As if it was her own homepage, she purposefully navigated through some pages until a list of "estimated revenues for 2003" appeared. With a triumphant look in the eyes, she pointed to the top of the list; "What does that read, Mr. Shaq?" "KOURNIKOVA A.W TENNIS$150,000,00040%" "I practically keep the whole business running on my own. I have RESPONSIBILITIES, Mister!" Against her expectations, Shaq's smile still didn't fade for a single moment. Instead it only got wider! He calmly took the keyboard back on his lap and used the trackball to click through a few more links. "Before you continue bragging, maybe better read this?" THIS page also contained a list... OCTAGON SHAREHOLDERS ==================== 1\. O'NEAL INDUSTRIES 51% 2\...." It took Anna a few seconds to realize what she had just read on the first line. But Shaq had no trouble identifying the exact moment that it got through to her, as her bottom lip started trembling. It was clear that she could burst out (into tears?) any second now. Right under that lovely surface was a volcano of frustration waiting. It definitely gave her something sexy, Shaq noticed. Anna became twice as attractive when she developed a pout. Or, to be more precise, when her continuous pout got more pronounced. Meanwhile she had arrived at a point where she would do ANYTHING to avoid defeat. Or to at least momentarily paint an expression of astonishment over the irritating smile on his mug. With unconcealed amusement, Shaq watched how she finally snatched the keyboard back once more. He was curious also, about what would be her next move in this silly battle of egos. Anna's pretty face was one big thundercloud as she rammed the keys with remarkable aggression. After a good number of visits to the backspace key, she had typed a URL: http://ffleetwebspace.free.fr/tmfu/index.htm "Money is one thing, but when it comes to honest and true devotion by fans, I wipe the floor with you, matey!" "WHAT THE F... I mean, JEZUS CHRIST! Is that YOU???" Slowly, the screen filled itself with Anna Kournikovas in varying degrees of nudity, ranging from rather tame men's magazine type of stuff, to the filthiest XXX-footage. "Of course not, innocent toddler that you are! These are photo-manipulations by some of my biggest fans. The ones who truly appreciate my qualities." There was not a hint of irony in her voice. "But, but... Aren't you going to sue them or something?" Just seconds ago, Shaq had been determined to remain stone cold, whatever Anna was going to throw at him. But when you're shocked, you're shocked! The wonder and astonishment splattered from his face, making Anna instantly feel much better again. It was really refreshing to actually hear him STUMBLE for once. "Oh well... I've talked about it with my lawyers. But it would be such a hassle, and they don't make money with it. It would create even more attention for something that I can't possibly officially endorse. Even though I quite like some of them myself! Just look at the one where I sit on the car; the color of the Porsche is the only thing he got wrong. But isn't it funny?" "The ONLY thing?" Staring right into the spread-open pussy on the pic, Shaq had to swallow. While he was staring at the screen, totally fascinated, Anna's eyes inadvertently wandered to his groin area, attracted by a subtle movement under the yellow-purple fabric. Something was growing in there. Something BIG. That was the little hint she needed to refocus her thoughts on her mission. A mission that suddenly seemed well under way by this time. Remarkable how the natural flow of things sometimes helps you out when you don't know how to handle a situation! "Huh?" The feeling of a delicate female touch on his bare chest got Shaq out of his trance. It made him look away from the arousing images on the computer screen, right into the naughty look Anna was throwing at him. This promised MORE than just a simple chat! He answered her touch with the broadest of smiles. At last the complicated situation cleared up. As a man, impossible to misinterpret lighthouse signals were what he needed. Girls who came with a manual didn't last long on board the Shaqmobile. Anna continued rubbing, and circled her fingers around Shaq's nipples, sending shivers throughout his entire chest, and lower... Chapter Four Behind his steering wheel, Wilson adjusted the rearview mirror to watch the scene in the back. His grin was possibly even broader than his boss's. He had seen enough already. In the end, all girls are born equal. That much he had learned since he was driving for Shaq. Black or white, red or yellow, voluptuous or hard bodied, rich or poor, young or old... You name it. Over time he had observed them ALL on that backseat, and they ALL were after just one thing: BLACK COCK. In ample size please, thank you. Wilson could now add one entry to his list: "Famous, or a nobody." In the absence of other thoughts, the amateur anthropologist within him often pondered about what it was with girls. Did they get up in the morning with the image of big black penises in their minds, or was it only while eating a banana? Whatever, it meant that being Afro-American had at least ONE advantage in the end. Michael Jackson had to be MORE nuts than nuts! On the backseat behind him, Anna meanwhile bent over towards Shaq until they were cheek-to-cheek. Her luscious lips almost touched his earlobes when she whispered: "You've seen already most of me now. So, when are you going to show it?" "Show what??" "Your ebone-er of course," she added with an arch smile, and quick as a weasel she gave the ridge in his pants a gentle queeze. Shaq was caught by surprise and made a little jump in his seat. Yes, his cock had been touched and handled many, many times before in this car, on this seat. Even without shorts around it! But never unanticipated like this. Anna sniggered. "A-HAA! Did I find your Achilles' heel?" she laughed. Then, with a roguish look in her eyes: "I'll promise not to tell anybody. IF we can have some fun together, that is!" Shaq's eyes continued growing wider; since the very second when the sexy blonde had transformed into Anna Kournikova by putting off her glasses, he had switched from "fuck"-mode to "conversation"-mode, which was not to his liking, so he had forced a wry smile all the time (Anna was much better at faking it for the camera). No, he didn't mind meeting Anna, far from. But his agenda for this afternoon had originally contained a good solid fuck and that was the last thing he expected from her. Yeah, it had been often talk-of-the-day in the dressing rooms, after yet another match where she had shown up as spectator. They jokingly speculated about when she was going to join the Lakers Girls. Not one single player didn't want to fill her every hole, it seemed. But that was guy talk, and this was REALITY. Lakers stars fucked cheerleaders or candidates, but that's as far as their privileges reached. Girls like Anna, or Beyoncé for example, remained elusive even for them. Even NBA stars can still dream. Or you had to get very lucky. And Shaq started to realize that maybe he HAD gotten very lucky! "Hey, are you ASLEEP or what?" If it hadn't dawned on him yet by now, Anna was soon going to make sure it would; she didn't wait for Shaq to answer, but playfully pushed him with his back against the seat and mounted his right knee, wrapping her athletic legs around his enormous thigh. She kicked off her slippers and shifted higher up, rolling up his boxers as she moved close enough to whisper into his ear again. Her loose shorts got stuck between them and exposed her bare pussy ever so slightly. A slick trail was left as her damp pussylips dragged over Shaq's hairy skin. "Why don't you suggest to Wilson he park the van and take a breath of fresh air. What do you think?" she purred. Shaq's brain needed a second to process that she didn't wear any panties; oh boy, did it make his erection jerk! "Good idea!" he immediately responded, surprising himself with the loudness of his own words. He also had to clear his throat before continuing. "Wilson?" Shaq shrugged again. "Yes, Mr. O'Neal?" (In the presence of important people, Wilson reverted to more formal communication.) "We have been driving for a while now, and it's still some way to go. So I suggest we pull out at the next parking area, and you take a walk to inhale a breath of fresh air." "Not a bad idea, sir." "I'll page you with the mobile when you've cleared your head." Anna chuckled; they all, no doubt Wilson included, knew full well what exactly was going on, underneath a thin layer of make-pretend. But each played the role expected from him or her. So, Wilson was going to "take a breath of fresh air" until his "head was clear again." And Wilson wasn't to object. Usually, Shaq's fuck toys didn't care in the least whether he watched, recorded things on video or even threw in his own $0.02. But he accepted that the Kournikova girl was a different breed. This was not a mongrel. This was a thoroughbred! And she needed to be handled accordingly. "As you wish, sir." He would hear the raunchy details later. Shaq meanwhile realized he was not only talking loud but also breathing rather heavy and jagged. He was really and truly becoming excited, it seemed! These routine backseat fucks had become a bit of a rut over the years. The highs, represented by a few favorite girls who returned from time to time, were becoming fewer and fewer among the usual mediocrity. It was almost auto-pilot most of the time, a "compulsory act." But now, it was different. Here he was sitting, mounted by a girl who actually matched his excellence, in her own territory, with beauty and downright hotness. Was it *respect* he was feeling? It was awe, and a deep awareness of the unique chance he was offered. He was going to screw Anna Kournikova, and he was going to love every single second of it! Hopefully for Anna, who was wiggling her saddle wet, he would leave some seconds for her, too. Chapter Five Wilson took the first small road that looked suitable and parked in a spot that seemed rarely frequented by pedestrians, yet not a weird place to halt your car. He looked over his shoulder, to face the contrasting couple, "ebony and ivory." Even though Anna had a delicious tan all over her body, the difference was quite obvious. "Have fun while I take a breath of fresh air," he grinned. Then he took his mobile and got out. Shaq immediately activated the central door lock. He hadn't even pulled his arm back when Anna was all over his body with her hands, driven by an inextinguishable lust. "My Goooooood, you're so...so strong!!! They feel almost like steel! Let me TOUCH them!" She eagerly traced the contours of his massive shoulders, squeezed his biceps and encouraged him to puff them up. "Like I said... Hercules, man. Hercules!" She put her hands behind his head and tried to pull, only to find out that it was steady as a rock. She wandered all over his chest with her hands, sucking up the body heat that was radiating from its surface, tugging his curly chest hair. She balled her fists and thumped them forcefully into his chest. Judging by how her tongue was flicking unconsciously over her full lips all the time, she was having a ball doing it! Each of her explorative actions confirmed and amplified what she had expected - and hoped - all that time: Shaq was an ANIMAL. He could snap her in two, he could crush her every bone if he wanted. One solid block of primal brute force. If he suddenly decided to rape her, she probably wouldn't stand a chance, and wouldn't survive it. Maybe it was this idea of DANGER that got her adrenalin running. One of the few things she could still get a kick out of. But of course, considering he was a public person and not a nutcase (as far as his behavior suggested), the danger was merely an illusion anyway. Or was it? Still, the idea of being in the presence of it, so close that she was completely in its power, had an almost perverse effect on Anna. She had been able to keep cool, and cover up all these effects thus far (except that she was juicing up). But now the excitement was bubbling up unrestricted. She almost lost control of herself. "1,2,3..." She let her index finger glide over Shaq's washboard. Her heart was beating wildly. "Shaquille, you're a hunk, did you know that? I mean, my God, you're strong as... as a horse. Yeah, that's it!! A horse." Anna was glad she was finally able to properly word what she meant. She loved horses; from when she was just a little kid, she had always felt strongly attracted towards them. Whenever she saw the chance, she tried to ride one as a relaxing pastime. Was she expecting the same from Shaq? At least he was a decent match in terms of sheer power and size. Her black stallion gladly put up with her pawing, wearing a silly smile on his face. Sure he understood by now that Anna only saw him as a lust object. But after all, the feeling was mutual. At this moment he didn't see her as much more than a pleasure toy to wrap around his dick, either. A sentiment that he didn't expect to evolve much over the next couple of hours. After she had had her first good look and feel, Anna backed off and nestled herself on his knee. Immediately, her eyes were drawn towards the yellow- purple boxers again, right in the center of her view. "Oh, damn!" Her mouth fell open. It had to be a truly magnificent piece of equipment that was now slowly unfolding itself in there. Focusing her eyes on the swelling, she got that same tingly feeling again in her belly and underbody, only much more intense now than while watching Shaq on the field. "Are you sure you stopped growing already??" Shaq laughed with the witty remark, but Anna kept a stony face. She was totally mesmerized. Pale spots appeared on her bottom lip as her teeth pushed the blood out of it. And with a hungry look in her eyes, she relaxed her tense fists, planning to release the mythical Thing that most girls could only talk about. She reached out, questioning eyes directed at Shaq. "M-may I? Can I?" "Hehe.. Whatever you say, darling. Be my guest." He gladly cooperated by slightly lifting his back while Anna grabbed the waistband and pulled down shorts and panties in one go. She stood up momentarily to pull them beyond his knees, and drop them on the floor. To augment the tension even more, her eyes remained closed while doing all this. Shaq's mammoth dick in itself seemed not enough for Anna! She was after maximum shock effect. After taking a deep breath, it was time to face her destiny. She settled her hot little ass on his knee again and slowly opened her eyes... "Oh h-holy sh..." Anna had thought she had prepared herself, but still skipped a heartbeat when she established first contact. Spontaneously, her hand moved up to cover her pout, and her eyes grew wide. It was bigger. It had to be bigger than what they all - seriously - considered "probable." Although she didn't really trust her judgment skills under these circumstances, Shaq's balls looked like chicken eggs, and the huge purple head on top seemed laid by an even bigger bird! The tip was already wet. Anna seemed to break eggshells by merely looking at them. The length remained inconclusive for the time being. Shaq was holding the base with one hand, slowly stroking with the other. "Meet Johnson," he grinned while he looked up at her. Anna smiled back; why was it that all men gave their penis a name? She had never given her pussy one. But it sure was funny and got her in a more relaxed, playful mood. "And Johnson is MINE!" she growled. And like an attacking tiger, she reached out with her claws to catch it, firmly clamping her fists around it. Like a predator guarding its prey, she didn't intend to let go of it anytime soon! Her delicate female touch made it look as if someone was pumping air into an inflatable boat. That's how fast it seemed to grow, to her! She chuckled nervously, as soon, she could grip it with both hands together, and still she didn't touch his balls or cock head. "Mpfff... Oh yeah, knead me, baby!" Shaq slightly shifted his position and grunted as Anna carefully squeezed his meat pole a first time. It felt warm and a little spongy. She took a deep breath and squeezed again, with a bit more force. By the time she repeated this a third time, it no longer gave a flinch! She really used considerable force (maybe not quite as hard as she COULD, but certainly as hard as her confidence allowed), and still she barely made a dent in it! "How? I..." For a moment, she looked a little startled, and a sheen of sweat appeared on her forehead. The tiger was far gone, all of a sudden. Would she ever be able to accommodate THIS?? Where oh where along the way had this crazy plan settled itself in that silly mind of her? Shaq was watching - and enjoying - her every move and recognized her hesitation. "You wanted to drive Shaq's Little Red Corvette, but does Anna Kournikova have what it TAKES to drive Shaq's Little Red Corvette?" he teasingly whispered. Anna chuckled. Little? Yeah right... But she never refused a gauntlet that was thrown at her. Challenges like these were exactly what she needed to get going. She didn't answer with words, but with deeds; without loosening her grip, she stood up from Shaq's lap and then slowly pulled Johnson towards her. "There's only one way to find out, isn't there?" Her eyes remained focused on Shaq's face and she kept grinning evilly all the way. He liked her naughty! He had to move with her, sinking deeper into the seat. Until his rigid pole ended up right between her slender legs, almost touching her shorts. Without saying another word, Anna used one hand to pull her left trouser leg wide, and bent through her knees. Teasingly slow, she let Shaq watch his dick crawl under the fabric towards Ground Zero. When she felt the enormous hot head plant itself against her pussylips, she bent a fraction further still to steady it, and then used both hands to stretch her cunny open as far as possible. She puffed, and her breaths shortened while she continued bending. The shorts were covering things up, but Shaq could do without pictures; he could feel her pussy slowly nibble down on him, like eating a big veined sausage for lunch. Once her meaty labia were pushed aside, Anna let them close themselves back around his bulky mushroom. Once more she took a deep breath, and continued lowering herself further on her lover. But with every inch, more doubts crept into her mind. "Ooh God... help me..." She gritted her teeth and was fighting the tears; this phase was far from comfortable. Trying to reorganize internally to adjust around Shaq proved a little more challenging than hoped for! Over a minute of fruitless gymnastics must have passed, after which STILL more than half of Shaq's battering-ram was sticking out. The undeniable conclusion was, that there was no progress to speak of. With tears running down the cheeks of her red face, Anna finally shouted in frustration. "Arghhhh! It DOESN'T WORK!" Disillusioned she stood up, guided his dick out with her hands, and stepped aside. The horny teen had lusted so long after him. She had gone through so much planning and effort to spend some quality time with the dangerous big teddy bear of her dreams. And now it turned out he was of a different scale! "I'm so sorry. What was I thinking, what was I THINKING? I should have known right from the start that you are just too big." She was almost sobbing in impotence. "This was just not meant to be. But the dildo I practiced with was the biggest they sold; what more could I do? TELL ME!" "Now, now, now..." Shaq replied in a fatherly tone. "Don't tell me our tennis star is already giving up! I wanna fuck you today, sweetie. Just relax and leave this to Shaq." His voice was calm and confident. He flashed his pearly white teeth, and the golden one. It served to divert Anna's attention while he secretly piloted one hand through the curtain of hair she had draped over his chest. She gave a little squeal of surprise as she felt his warm fingers slide over her flank, by touch searching for her (too) tight pussy. She smiled through her tears when she understood, and adjusted her position to help his seeking hand; in response, he flattened it and smoothly slid it into the shorts. Anna got goose bumps from the sudden shell of heat over her sex. A pleasant and comforting feeling. Almost immediately fingers started to wriggle, tickling at her mound. It made her pant in anticipation. "Dr. Shaq thinks he recognizes your condition, and will now proceed with the standard treatment." It sounded almost official! A shiver crawled up Anna's back when the strong guy suddenly lifted his hand into the cleft of her legs, with such incredible force that she almost became weightless. "Ooohh... SHIT!" It was not all that clear for her what exactly was going on down there. But it felt as if, under gravity's pull, his knuckles were slowly swallowed by her fat labia like in quicksand. Next, something that couldn't be anything else but his middle finger got deployed, poking into her. Using the knuckles as extra support to carry her weight, Shaq then started finger-fucking the Russian. Like a small but very rigid dick, his digit stimulated all the right spots inside her. At least SOMETHING of Shaq that fit into her! "Mmmmmmmhh... Yeah! Whoa!" Anna's breathing got heavier and she was panting through her cute little pouted lips while Shaquille kept probing into her. Again and again he lifted her up, putting her on the tips of her toes and making her raise her ass as high in the air as possible. "S-Steady... Hooo!" She could barely keep her balance by holding onto Johnson during the entire ride on Shaq's Shovel. Her heat was really rising quickly under his expert touch, coming up with new surprises every minute. A comprehensive anthology from his oeuvre of inventive pussy-poking, circling and stretching. And was that his thumb circling around her clit? Whatever it was, it turned up the volume of her moaning and enticed her to eagerly knead the dick in her hands. "Oh FUCK yeah... Don't stop now! JEZUS!!" If she was raising her ass, it was not to escape his touch, but to fight a premature climax. This ride deserved to last awhile! "SLOWER...no...shit. DON'T... Yeah, keep...keep it like THIS!" Shaq grimaced and grinned. Another lady wrapped around his finger! Yes, he was popular because of his size. But size wasn't EVERYTHING. You need to know how to please the ladies, he thought while skillfully teasing her clitoris to further juice her up. "FUCK, you're GOOD Shaq. Whoa!" The rubbing and poking drove her out of her mind, and only stopped when Shaq could feel the first modest spasms shoot through her pussy. The telltale signs of a girl approaching the finishline. No need to orgasm already. Shaq retracted his hands out of Anna's shorts, causing some soppy sounds. Several of his fingers were coated in thick girl-cum. Anna was still squeezing Johnson. She looked a bit distant and had a contented smile on her face. She giggled and seemed naughtier than ever indeed. No question that Shaq's little manual intermezzo had brought her back in the right mood. Gone were those negative feelings! "G-Good. GREAT! And...now it's MY turn, Mister!" Damn, was SHE horny! In anticipation, Shaq watched her lock her eyes with his; she licked her lips, and moved towards the dick she was still firmly holding. All her spontaneous squeezing and kneading had pumped a considerable amount of precum out of Shaq, and he was convinced she was so turned on that she was planning to lick it off. To the very last drop, for sure! Her sexy lips parted and her tongue curled out, ready to lap his slimy dickhead. Shaq saw it coming but was too late. "Hey, lady!" Anna attacked him sideways, like when your ice cream has started leaking, and managed to suck the bottom of his glans clean in one swift move. "Better not suck up all the Oil of O'Neal, pumpkin. We're going to need it soon!" He sure liked the feeling of her soft tongue lapping him, but still he had the clarity of mind to hold her off when she ignored his command. "Slap, slap." Shaq gave Anna's cheeks some wet slaps with his prick. Threads of male liquid covered her face. "I said DON'T. I don't remember a tactical briefing with these guidelines, do YOU?" Anna moaned in protest. As consolation, he encouraged her to suck the fingers that were soaked with her own nectar. And just ONE portion; they weren't going to spill ALL the results of his groundwork. "Hmmm... So THESE little fellows have been at work down there, eh?" Anna managed to giggle before she wrapped her full-lipped mouth around them. She happily sucked her juices from his fingers, but also moaned in disappointment once she had cleaned them. Far too soon. It was downright cruel to heat her up like that, without giving her the chance to PROPERLY release all the piled up lust. It was SHAQ she wanted, not some poor masturbation- upgrade! But they were following Shaq's game plan. And Anna was the ball that needed to be netted. "Whoa!" Again Anna yelped in surprise as this time the center's hands grabbed her love handles and unexpectedly lifted her up like a feather. She found herself straddling his waist for the second time. Before she could even protest, Shaq dug his fingers between her smooth flesh and the waistband of her boxers, and totally shredded the measly piece of textile. Rags were flying in all directions. He wouldn't have admitted it, but Anna was not the only one with piled-up lust. And Shaq could pile up quite a bit more than she! The fact that her pussy had been hidden from his hungry eyes all the time was driving him crazy. He hadn't even seen her TITS yet, for Christ's sake! "HEY, what?!?" Anna complained. In a strange reflex of shame the Russian shielded her cunny with both hands. A cute coy smile flashed over her face as a surprised Shaq stared at her. Was it because she hadn't been prepared for his bold move? He laughed when he spotted the spontaneous blush on her cheeks. "Hahaha! I can't BELIEVE it. Hahaha! Say it isn't true!" "Now, why did you..." He didn't let her finish, but put up a falsetto and squeaked: "Don't be afraid of Big Shaq, darling. He won't hurt you, LOL" It had almost looked as if Anna was going to pull down the T-shirt to protect her flower! Only very slowly, her confident self returned. What was left was a slight embarrassment about her "little girl" reflex. "Now show Shaq what you have in store for him." With his hand, Shaq tried to encourage Anna to remove her shielding. But she backed off. "Hohooo! Nooot!" She now quickly regained her self-control and took over the initiative. Anna wasn't going to lift her iron curtain just like that, now! NOT after Shaq had ruined her outfit. That deserved punishment of some kind. If he was thinking he could just TAKE her as he wanted, he would have to think again. That's not how the game was played with Anna. She was only TAKEN if and when she WANTED to be taken. Multiple times MVP or not. "Didn't your mommy teach you patience, little Shaq? Paaaatience..." "Stop acting stupid. How can I fuck properly what I can't see?" The giant center was no longer sounding amused. In fact, his current language didn't exactly please her. Don't they get fines for this kind of inappropriate behaviour? Anna didn't even lift an eyebrow. She was not impressed. Was it because she was brave, or stupid? Or maybe both? In a teasing super slowmo, she first pressed her hands tighter against her crotch, as if to guard it even better, and then sensually opened up the protective shell. Shaq watched silently, fascinated by how her cunny gradually peeped through between her parting thumbs. It was one hell of a mouth-watering show. What first struck Shaq was her bush, shaven in the shape of a heart. The exact same shape as the heart she was wearing on her delicate necklace. If there was one thing that was absolutely sexy, it was this! A beautiful example of careful and tasteful trimming. The fluffy blond curls looked like God himself had stroked them down with his pencil. They fit perfectly into one of the most elegant pubic clefts ever to be found between a girl's hips. Anna was an ambassador of stylish aesthetics, both between and around her legs. If it was true that the perfect girl didn't exist, it almost had to mean that her feet were ugly! "Shit, baby..." As if hypnotized, Shaq was holding his breath while he followed Anna's hands retract further. She pressed her index fingers into the skin folds on both sides of her smooth mound, dragging her puffy labia along as she moved higher up. He swallowed when the meaty outer lips bounced back after stretching. For a short moment, he had the rare privilege to descry her pink petals before they were warmly tucked in again. "Holy shit... holy shit... holy shit..." He was whispering a mantra of desire to himself, and swallowed again. Most pussies he had fucked felt hot and soft, but rarely did they advertise this on the outside as efficiently as Anna's. The LA center was starting to sweat like a horse from all this visual stimulus, now also backed up by Anna's soft moans. "Oh man, it's getting hot here, phew! IMPOSSIBLY hot." If he had been wearing a tie, he would have no doubt loosened it! In the absence of one, his reflex was to use the piece of Anna's shredded boxers, that he was still holding in his hands, to dip his forehead. When a sweet, musky fragrance penetrated into his nose, he understood he was sopping his forehead in girl-cum from the soaked textile. The same pussy-juice that was leaving glistening traces on her lips in the center of his hypnotized stare. "Succulent, just succulent," he mumbled. At long last, Anna seemed wet enough to be fuckable. Oh yeah, the manual intermezzo and the purpose behind it... Already it had almost disappeared in the sensual fog covering his mind. Now it was HIS turn to fight his instincts. If he still wanted to smoothly run his sword through her, he couldn't afford to succumb. Succumb to the strong visual messages that Anna's ravishing flesh was printing into the lowest layers of his brain: EAT ME OUT. He truly was fighting one of the toughest battles men are faced with: holding yourself together while your senses are bombed with signals of readiness, health, fertility... The whole female seduction-gamma. And all of that just there for the tasting. A glass of water would have helped right now, when poured out over his head, that is. "Owww... you LIKE that, don't you, Big Boy?" Anna hissed. She felt like pulling the strings of a puppet when she watched his bulging eyes track her under body, as she sensually swayed it from side to side. It was not that much different from a mule chasing a carrot on a string. Rather amusing. Men were SO easy to play with. Shaq groaned. He sniffed loudly and gave himself a slap in the face to break the spell. There was WORK to be done. He presented the giggling Russian an inviting gentleman-hand. "The Shaq Express only stops once, lady. What will it be? Do you want a free ride, or do you wait for the next train?" "I think I'll take the ride, Big Boy." Anna smiled. She was truly pleased by Shaq's sudden change in style. This was more like how she was used to be treated! Docile, she let Shaq guide her hand towards his dick, assisting him to line it up again between her slender legs. She had learned her lesson: her disastrous first attempt had convinced her to put the expert in control this time. "Hold it like this. Yes, and now keep it that way." Anna did as instructed. A blend of doubt, curiosity and a little bit of fear washed over her as she felt Shaq's size and hotness. She used her own free hand to lift her shirt so she could keep a close eye on progress. It still looked impossible. Now Shaq's other arm stretched out. He stuck out his middle and index finger and pressed them together, and then up against Anna's plump lips. Not as hard as before, pushing them in just a little. The intimate touch caused a shiver of anticipation in Anna while she listened to his countdown. "3...2...1..." Anna gasped in surprise at the count of zero; Shaq started a series of faster and faster scissor-like movements. He pushed up, spreading his two strong fingers, then dropped while joining them again. Again and again and again, and again. Faster and faster. Spreading his scissor - and Anna's love-pillows - wider each time. It was outrageously arousing, and she couldn't help following his every move with her body. Her pussy had never, well, "fluttered" like this. "Oh God!!! Oh GOD!!" She barely seemed to have time to breathe. Two or three times during her dance, she had to let go of Johnson and grab him back. "S-slow down!! Slow-w down!" Shaq was applying the right tactics yet again. No matter how unsure Anna had been just minutes ago, now she was starting to feel more receptive than ever. She lost some of her much-needed juices in the thorough intimate massage, but immediately oozed new ones from deep inside. It was like Shaq was handling a fruit press. "Keep dancing, baby. Move that ass. Yeah! That's the way to do it, sweetie!" Shaq didn't slow down at all, and pretty soon a hot glow shot through Anna from the inside. It seemed to turn her lower body into one hot molten mass. With a cavity in it that desperately needed to be FILLED. The treatment had awakened a deeply hidden, sleeping female instinct in Anna: an urge to tightly wrap herself around something. If someone would have asked her to sink onto a baseball bat, she would have thought it possible. ANYTHING was acceptable now. Even Shaq. Who was meanwhile keeping cooler than cool, coaching "Project Touchdown" with his usual, commanding voice. "Bear... down... NOW!" The shot was lined up with laser accuracy. His timing was flawless. On the word 'go,' Anna relaxed all her muscles and slid down on Shaq precisely during a pussy-maximum. In one single smooth move, she slipped over his dick, ending up about three quarters down. Even with a quarter left, that meant Seriously Stuffed. "Ughf..." It truly knocked the air out of Anna's lungs, and pussy. She threw back her head, eyes closed, and uttered some deep guttural moans. In and under her, Shaq was also breathing heavy. Those were some quite intense moments for both! "Well done, baby. WELL done!" Shaq whispered after a few seconds of recovery, and encouragingly smacked her ass-cheeks. They quivered like two sexy heaps of Jello. Slowly, an impaled Anna tried to come to grips with her current state; she had never felt as *complete* as this, for sure. Her mind started flying circles around this new focal point, seated deep inside of her. Already it seemed to BELONG there: the missing piece of her personal puzzle, lost since the very day of her birth. It was a happy reunion that made her speechless. With some imagination, one could spot a small bulge stand out in her flat tummy while her chest was heaving. Shaq grinned and gave it a playful poke. "Hey buddy, how are you feeling there on the other side?" "Gngngngngnggg..." Anna's bottom lip quivered as the vibrations resonated up and down around his rigid pole inside her, acting like an

antenna. The resulting micro- contractions along Anna's pussy walls finalised the first part of her "docking sequence", by lowering her another few inches onto his stake. Shaq was doing MORE than just jokingly playing around; each of his moves, each of his touches had its precise purpose. He grinned, satisfied. No matter how often he had done it, every time he was still amazed how each and every girl, given sufficient attention and stimulus, would finally fit around his girth this far. Just the last 20% proved to be a matter of hit and miss. But let's see about that later! Chapter Six Anna's breathing had started slowing down a little and she flashed her eyes. She still looked a little dazed, but was nevertheless slowly getting used to the "presence". The classical symptoms of the ShaqCockShock were starting to fade. "How does my little tennis princess feel?" It was not a question out of interest; Shaq's conceited smile illustrated that he obviously just wanted to hear her stumble in her own words how "impressed" she was. He loved to confront his love toys with their own disorientation. "G-g-good... I-i-it feels great." Anna stumbled, like all the others before her. Her breathing was still coming in short pants. "Of course it does, sweetie, of course. But..." Shaq moved his hand between their legs and made a few stroking movements along the 20% that hadn't penetrated yet into the Russian, slapping against her intimate flesh. "... but I'm afraid we aren't quite there yet." "Huh?" One extra frown developed on Anna's distorted face. Her body communicated to her that she was completely stuffed. That was one of the few things she was absolutely certain of, under these otherwise confusing circumstances. It was almost unthinkable that she had understood Shaq correctly, like a shock to your belief system. "W-w-what??" Shaq didn't answer but let his body sink lower into the backseat so it ended up more horizontal. Anna was totally connected and had to shuffle backwards to follow. Then he put his hands behind her back and made her lay down on his enormous chest. Within seconds, she could feel the comforting heat of his body seep through the thin T-shirt into her tits. It was cozy for sure! She wouldn't get much time to warm them, though. "Ughh!" Anna grunted and flashed her eyes wide open when Shaq suddenly pounded into her with a few quick movements of his hips. Just before she would rebound from his last slap, she could feel a warm hand palm cup her left buttock. Shaq had frozen her in the middle of the action, at the point where a maximum of cock- clenching pussy flesh was dragged out. "Wadda you... hmmmm..." Anna underwent all this quite passively, still dazzled, lying with her cheek buried in his ticklish chest hair. "Give Shaq a moment, sweetie." With his giant reach, he now piloted his other hand between her butt cheeks; first he used his index finger to slowly trace the ring of pussy tissue that sealed off his penetration. Anna tightened around him, and produced some faint murmuring in response. "Little Anna likes this, doesn't she? Haha..." Then he started gently squeezing the delicate and nerve-saturated tissue that otherwise remained safely hidden inside her. "O-o-ooohmm-m-m...Oh fuck..oh" Unprecedented sensations crawled up from between Anna's thighs. Spontaneously, her body started writhing against Shaq while her pussy rippled along the entire length of his shaft, milking what had to be the last drops of precum out of it. It was in a trance of lust that Anna now repeatedly pushed down on Shaq with all the power in her arms, fucking herself onto his tool. Self- service like you never saw! "O-o-ohh. F-FUCK y-yeah!! FUCK'" she shouted while she continued humping him like mad, her face wrinkled by waves of lust. "That's more like it! Yesss baby...you'll get there, GO ON! Aaaahhh." Shaq carefully lined up his body to give Anna the best chance to bear down as deep as possible, to make her gain those precious couple of extra inches during her explosion. "Keep going baby! Shake Shaq!" After a short but intense workout, Anna finally collapsed exhausted onto his chest again, panting and gasping from all her push-work. Her shirt stuck to her skin, soaked in their sweat. "Good work, baby. Good work..." Shaq panted, as he softly stroked her hair and planted a kiss onto her forehead. "You done well." He had silently hoped Anna would be able to embrace him completely. But although there was SOME progress, his trained senses told him that would be out of reach with this format of girl. Unless he would almost split her in two, but he figured she didn't fancy that idea. At this moment at least. They had reached base camp though, and it was time to overview the battlefield. Putting his strong hands under her armpits, he straightened her limp upper body so she ended up sitting upright. "That's my girl..." Anna had her eyes closed again and her mouth was opened as if frozen in the middle of a scream. No word escaped her trembling, drooling lips; it would have been incomprehensible gibberish anyway. There was simply no place for high-level brain activity; the rapid heartbeats of her lover oscillated through his walled-in cock, transferring the vibrations directly to her female core. It constantly steered her thoughts inwards, forcing her brain to concentrate on this 'guest,' the most important thing in her private little world right now. Her third heart was pumping like crazy, as if it had to feed the additional organ. She needed several seconds to acclimate again to the presence inside her, now that it was even DEEPER. Finally, her eyes opened and a silly smile settled itself in the middle of a bright face. It was starting to feel good, REAL good. "Is...is...is it all in?" she inquired with some difficulty. Shaq nodded in confirmation. "I can feel you squeeze aaaaall around me, baby." Anna tried to mobilize all her mental powers to concentrate on regrouping herself. And, as if she hadn't lost control for even a single second, she started giving directions right away. "L-Listen to me." With both hands, she clamped Shaq's wrist and guided his hand under her T-shirt, towards her tits. "Touch me here, KNEAD me." She started encouraging Shaq to mould them and stimulate her nipples which were firmly standing out by now. "I want to feel your desire shoot through me. Through your hands." Shaq slowly regained control over his own hands, and started a completely blind, manual evaluation of Anna's breasts. "Aaah YES. THAT's what I want. THAT's it, do you understand?" Sure Shaq did; with purposeful little pinches and kneading, he determined that Anna's two hidden treasures weren't big, but well-shaped and firm. He still preferred hooters, but these had their own charm. "Oh FUCK yeah. You black guys know how to touch a girl!" Anna moaned loudly. Shaq's touch seemed to stimulate nerves that reached right down to her pussy. At long last, she crossed her arms and lifted the shirt over her head. She had to chuckle when she noticed the flash of desire in Shaquille's eyes the moment her beautiful athletic body was finally revealed to him. She flicked her hair behind her back to give his hungry eyes full access. "Oh my...Thank...you...GOD!" The words seemed to find their way out of Shaq all by themselves. While her lover paused to devour her visually, Anna started a slow ride, holding back at first because hopping looked out of the question with a snug fit like this. She really didn't feel like turning her reproductive system inside out. Anna was in control of the pace and carefully listened to her body to reach a perfect soothing resonance. She cooed softly each time Shaq's cock head stimulated the right spots on her inside. After every two to three normal wobbles, she would raise on her toes a little to make a small hump. She was learning the finesses of riding Shaq, and she was learning fast. A great example of reward-based training! Meanwhile Shaq actually didn't feel all that much himself, but he enjoyed the panorama. It wasn't hard to spot that she was glowing. The fur of a kitten acquires a sheen when you stroke and pet it. Likewise, Anna's body seemed to optimally present itself once she had planted herself fully onto a penis of this magnificance. A healthy blush spread all over her soft skin, her hair feeling silkier than ever. Her nipples were budding quite spectacularly, and seemed to vibrate even when Shaq merely breathed in their general direction. Her smooth skin looked like it was tightly stretching itself around her entire body, in particular around those delicious butt cheeks. The rather stressed grooves in her face had given way to an expression of complete relaxation. With those bright eyes shut down, she looked so soft and innocent! At the same time, she was one big nerve at the moment, and Shaq craved the idea that he was responsible. Watching and feeling her shine brightly was quite stimulating. He noticed that she was an unusual mix of hard and soft. Her body was taut and trim, but he could feel with his own hands that she was padded and cushioned in all the right spots for sex without sharp edges. He was confident that, once he was REALLY going to fuck her (!), it was going to be nice and comfortable for him, without feeling like pounding into a sack of blubber. Furthermore, her athletic qualities convinced him he wouldn't have to hold back, either. Her arms were pretty muscled for their slender appearance, and ended in rather broad shoulders. He also noted her sturdy bone structure; contrary to Anna's belief, he would have a LOT of trouble to crush them if he wanted to! She could handle a thorough fuck for sure. Let's say a 9 on the Scale of Shaq. Anna was a perfect match for Shaquille O'Neal... to give free rein to his passions. It would have been interesting to find out what the object of his desire itself would have to say if he wouldn't keep those thoughts for himself! Chapter Seven That object was still riding him slowly, and now bent her body over to hold onto his shoulders. She kissed him passionately, massaging his neck and shoulders when the pleasurable feelings made her ball her small fists. After their lips parted, he squeezed those thick little cheeks of her. "Do they call THAT training?" Anna had to laugh. Which said a lot about the state of mind she was in. Normally, a remark like that would make her explode in furious anger. "I like it, though. You're definitely softer than the other athletic types I fucked." As an illustration, his lustful hands wandered all over Anna, touching her in her special places. "Murzik can be as hard or soft as her partner likes, Big Boy." She made another small hop, and gasped. "But NOT quite as... as hard as that piece of you in here," she murmled, stroking with her hand over the small bulge on her flat tummy. "I'm starting to understand why the Girls were always talking about 'Magic Johnson'." "HAHAHAHA... WHAHAHA-HA." Anna's comical mixup made Shaq shake with laughter. Which of course, in turn, made Anna shake as well, on top of him. "Wha-ha-hat's so-o f-fun-ny?" she stumbled. "It shows you haven't been into basketball for all that long, sweetheart. I think there's some confusion here with one of my childhood heroes; but let me add it's safer to ride Shaq's Johnson than it is to ride Magic's, nowadays." Anna decided to not even attempt to make sense out of this. Her mind had to go in overdrive to do more than just handle the pleasure signals. "So, are there maybe any other black guys you would have liked to fuck you? Or did you only dream of me?" Anna produced some ripples in her forehead. "I don't know. It's not just that you're BLACK, you know." She still kept rocking back and forth in a steady pace, trying not to break the comforting rhythm of the throbbing inside her. She paused long between her lines. Then, in a boyish way, she whispered: "They say it must be awesome to fuck Mohammed Ali, though." "Oh yeah? How's that? He's another one of my big heroes, actually. We grew up with guys like him, Magic, Martin Luther King and B.A. Baracus." "Well," Anna continued in a conspirational tone, "he must be like one big VIBRATOR, LOL." Now it was her turn to burst out in laughter; her voice resounded through the roomy interior, but quieted down rather quickly. It was kinda spooky how Shaq didn't seem to react at all. In fact he had stopped cooperating with her relaxing fuck-rhythm and his face looked serious and (almost) pale. Anna stopped completely in her tracks now, too. The confused girl kept her breath, and a few infinitely long seconds of total silence followed. "DON'T YOU FUCK WITH SHAQ'S HEROES, you little minx!" Shaq's thundering voice made Anna's belly shake, and she had a mental image of her hair being blown away by an explosion, like you see in those cartoon movies. "Seems like Shaq needs to teach this hussy some respect for her black brothers, young lady!" The echo of his tirade hadn't even died yet, as he immediately took the lead in their love-ride and imposed a totally CRAZY pace. "Wai-ait! I thi-i-ink..." "Think? THINK? On board the Shaqmobile, girls don't need to worry about anything. They are BEING taken care of by Shaq. HE does the thinking. And what HE thinks is that it is time for some action that is enjoyable for HIM." "W-what??" "You're going to be shaken by Shaq, not stirred. Just the way Mr. Bond likes it!" he laughed evilly with his allusion on the offer by Anna's management to make her the Bond Girl in the latest in the series. And James was not there to save her; he had his hands full with Halle Berry. Nobody would stop the Shaq Show. "Ladies and gentlemen. This is your Shaq speaking. Fasten your seatbelts, there is turbulence ahead of us. SHAAAA-A-A-Q AT-TAAAAA-A-ACK!" "Are you cr... ugh!" Anna's useless complaining was choked in another wave of bone-crunching penetrations. "STOH-OH-OH-OH-OOOHP!" Shaq paid no attention to her chopped-up pleas, but instead kept pounding into her with all his power. Clamping his shovels onto her love handles, to keep her from being launched into space with each smash of his hips, and to pull her back onto his stake. The impudent brat wanted it rough? She would GET it rough. He would stuff her with her much-wanted black cock until she had indigestion. Anna had accidentally removed his trigger lock, and she was going to pay the consequences. No wailing in the world would help her. "NO-OH-OH-OH-OH!" Anna thought she experienced a mini-NDE each time Shaq blasted through her. Everything went black on the way in, and before it cleared up again the next blast already arrived! Tears were welling up from behind her beautiful green eyes, from seeing Heaven and Hell at the same time. A new experience for her, since it seems Enrique had shown her Purgatory at most. She looked like throwing up each time the head of his cock planted itself violently into the sensitive tissue at the back of... was it her womb? To her, it felt like he was sticking his blunt hammer into the back of her throat - from behind! Indeed, all of a sudden it seemed no longer such a problem for Shaq to bottom out into "a girl of this format." Where there's a will, there's a way! Her firm tits, no matter how sturdy they normally were, were liquefied by the intense movements and swayed in all directions. Shaq was truly pistoning in and out of the Russian, producing rubbery noises as his tool made its way inside. What was he drilling for? Whatever it was, even for Anna it came as somewhat of a revelation how DEEP she actually was. She had no idea, simply because she had never been exploited properly. Shaq indeed opened up new internal vistas by plowing into her. Judging by her miserable groaning, she didn't exactly enjoy those new vistas. "Uugh...have m-mercy!! Nngh..." But her hard athletic body could handle it, and responded well. Slowly, a warm feeling of well-being started to swell up from the depths of her lower regions and extinguish the pain. Numbness was soon replaced by an overwhelming sensation: a sparkling that started small, like a tiny piece of fireworks that was lit up, but seemed to rapidly ignite a whole cascade throughout her battered body. It made her forget all the discomfort in a wink, and scream in bliss. "F-Fuck YEAAAH!" Her orgasm immediately detonated in full glory, and as Shaq kept pounding into her throughout, she was actually caught up by a second one before the first could fade away. Shaq, almost rubbed senseless by the Russian's tight anatomy, now also couldn't hold it any longer. The piled-up cum had made his balls ache like hell for quite some time already. "Nnnnnnnggh..." His hips bucked up one last time, as he clung Anna down on them. Then his white-hot spunk shot forward, coating every small cavity inside her. The residue seeped through the rare cracks between his pulsating dick and the surrounding pussy walls. It was a weird feeling for Anna, but also mild, like a spraying warm-water showerhead implanted deep into her. Many powerful spurts later, the LA Lakers giant gurgled and collapsed. At last Anna was now also given the chance to come down from her high. It truly was something different. A rocket in orbit doesn't quite come down like a regular airplane. With a loud sigh she collapsed on top of Shaq. Chapter Eight Perhaps surprisingly, Anna showed no intention to run. There was not a trace of panic or fear left in her eyes or pose. Yet, she hadn't ACTED those strong emotions just seconds ago, when Shaq went out of control. She had fruitlessly pounded into him with bare fists; she had bucked and writhed her body to escape from his grip. But if she was REALLY honest with herself, she had to admit (and Shaq had sensed it) that the fight she put up had been a mock fight. Her claws were pulled in. It was self-deception of the highest order to not admit to herself that a subconscious, primal desire had taken possession of her, months ago. The night when the little horny devil, whispering into her ear on her left shoulder, had won from the peaceful angel on the right. "Of course there's nothing wrong with giving in to your desires, Anna." And where was the expected backlash? There was none, apparently. She had been a naughty girl, she had cheated on Enrique and she had enjoyed it, and she was going to get away with it! A princess could get away with anything. It was proven yet again, and she made a mental note of it. Good to know for her next escapade! EXHAUSTED she was, yes. Barely able to lift her head off Shaq's heaving chest, even. No more workouts needed for the rest of the week for sure. In the warm soothing afterglow, she enjoyed Shaq's soft caressing of her body, that was draped limply over him. Digging the awareness that, even now, he just couldn't stop exploring it. How he used both hands to delicately knead her bottom, to relax her after the tension he had put her through. How he then gently spread her butt cheeks apart. How he then used his finger to sample some cum from her soaked pussy, and rub it around her little brown hole. How he teasingly circled around it. How he then proceeded splitting her buttocks even wider and gently dipped a finger into... Wait a sec?? "Wha-mmmhmhhmhmhmmmm!!!" Anna tried to protest but Shaq quickly silenced her with his huge hand. "Shhhhh baby..." There were a few TOO many hands working on her ass. And Shaq was not an octopus. But, dazed as she still was, it had taken her a while to figure out that a second person was fondling her. Suddenly, she could feel a warm cushioning feeling in her lower back. It was Wilson's donut-belly settling itself in the sensual curvature. He had moved in behind her, and was bending over to enclose her in a human vice. She never heard him return. Wild sex had completely occupied her senses. His head was clear by now, but no doubt his nuts were full! "Ho-ho, baby! Wilson's going to enjoy humping this HOT little body!" His big filthy hands were touching and feeling all over her, while Shaq held her arms tight. "P-please don't!" Her eyes were shooting fear and panic, pure and 100% genuine this time, as the LA center whispered into her ear: "Shaq is a team player, sweetie, and if you want to play with Shaq, you have to be one too; forgot to tell you." Wilson was still on Shaq's team... "Let...let me go!" "Shhh... Relax, baby, relax or it might hurt. We don't want it to hurt, do we?" Anna tried a variety of muscles to plan an escape-route, but quickly realized she was completely caged. They made sure she wasn't CRUSHED, but she also couldn't move. One could argue that it was a perfect source of stability and safety during the thorough fucking she was no doubt about to receive. Putting negative emotions aside, Anna would have recognized that it also felt rather cozy and secure in some way. But at the moment, she wasn't quite open-minded enough to look at it that way. Wilson didn't say much but went right into business. He obviously was more interested in Anna's sweet ass than in a conversaton with the tennis star. He pulled out the cum-drenched finger he had been sopping into her up to the knuckle, and now aimed his willy for the same target. "No please, don't...Pl...Ugh!" Anna moaned again when she felt the blunt tip resolutely work its way down her tightest hole. As far as she was concerned, she had HAD her share of ground- breaking kicks for today. Adding a first anal penetration PLUS a first double penetration was a bit too much. Those were planned for another date. In fact, because of the fresh memory of what it meant to be taken by Shaq ALONE, the idea of having a second dick mess around in her at the same time made her slightly nauseous. Horror thoughts of being ripped apart filled her panicked mind. 'He that mischief hatches, mischief catches'. And yes, even princesses get caught, in the end! "You can't...can't do that. I can't take this!!!" For the moment, her body was still thinking the same. Her sphincter tried to crush the hard nut that was forcing itself inside, but instead only caused a pleasurable massage. Wilson slowly moved back and forth a few times, just to guide Anna's anal grip over the right spots, in the right rhythm. It helped to stretch her a little, and at the same time it enabled him to inject a useful reservoir of precum into her. Both would facilitate further penetration. Once the head was past a certain point, Anna's body was no longer rejecting his dick, but instead hungrily sucking it in. "GRrrrrr!" Anna gritted her teeth; she hated the realization that her body was following its own course now, welcoming the new guest. And that, of all people, it was WILSON who was brutally invading her like this against her will. Anally fucked by a FAT PIG! The pain was one thing, the humiliation much worse. Wilson closed his eyes and concentrated on the mental image of a ring, made out of pure pleasure, moving over the top of his dick. Meanwhile he kept massaging Anna's titties with his hands, gently twisting her nipples between thumb and index finger... It almost looked like he was tuning her anal caressing like a transistor radio. Inch by inch, he conquered her tightest channel, concentrating on the goal at hand: a handshake between his and Shaq's awakening cock head, deep inside unconquered territory. "Dr. Shaqcock, I presume?" Slowly, he started moving in and out, progressing further with each thrust. "Ahw...Ahw...Oooh!Ahw..." Anna's sexy little squeals and grunts were a joy to the ears and now also started to turn Shaq on again. He had been holding her hands up in the air, in his own giant paws, holding her body stretched upright and absorbing the energy when she forcefully responded to her anal probing by clenching her hands together. He could feel his cock come to life once more. Even in its half-flaccid state, it had been filling Anna almost like an average erected male organ. Now it was slowly dilating her from the inside again. When Anna felt how her new guest, and Shaq's solidifying member slowly got going together, she tried to stumble a final futile protest: "Uughhh.. Pl-pl-please guy-guys, please STOP IT! I...I can't take thiiis!" Sure she could, just like the numerous others who had preceded her. With increasing pace, the two large dicks began battering in and out of her love receptors. Their penetrations started perfectly timed together, but slowly got out of sync. As a result, Anna was treated with a new unique combination of fucking dicks from one moment to the next. After each 30-second period, the cycle would start over again, too long a time for her busy mind to recognize a pattern and adjust to it. "Take it, baby... Yeah, wrap them up GOOD!" Shaq was trying to coach her, unaware as he was of her reputation of being hard to coach. "Ooohchgchgr... Grrlll.." Anna's last decipherable words were replaced by some kind of Moscow dialect first, and primitive groans soon afterwards, occasionally interrupted by a loud shriek when some sensitive spot was hit. Ample perspiration, which greased the action, illustrated that her body was taxed not unlike during some of the toughest matches she had played in her career. Still, even to Anna, in all her discomfort, it had become clear that the duo formed a well-oiled team. The carefully choreographed dual penetrations gave away years of disciplined training. A flawless fucking-machine, designed to push girls to unseen heights. (Actually, the concept was in the first place designed to push THEM to unseen heights, but the female orgasm was a nice little side effect) "OH GOD...Uuuuh... OH GOD." Anna just didn't know where she had it, as her entire lower internals seemed to be stretched and molded like a piece of tough chewing gum. She repeatedly tried to turn her head far enough to actually SEE what was being done to her lower half by the two men, but of course never was quite able to do it. She would have to visualize it... Her pussy and ass sucked themselves to their dicks. The combination of all the friction, the stretching and the poking seemed to reach into the back of her throat. It was an explosive cocktail that was rapidly leading to the Mt. Saint Helens of female orgasms. And made her face even more wrinkled and distorted than during a service return. "There you go, THEEERE you go!" Shaq diagnosed her by reading her expression. A few hoarse coughs was all Anna managed to produce when finally wave after wave of intense shudders passed through her. Awash in her third orgasm, she didn't even feel Shaq slam into her one more time and deposit another load of sticky cream into her womb. At last, the machinery stopped. The wet slapping sounds and horny grunts were replaced by a choir of heavy breathing. The atmosphere was damp and the whole place smelled of musk. Two randy guys had had their way with a girl here, and it showed. Wilson hadn't quite climaxed yet, though. Probably because the nerve-cells in his pecker were embedded in too much fat-tissue, he needed that little bit more stimulation. That's why he mostly took the narrower ass of their sparring girls. But with his lousy physical condition, he needed to catch his second breath before going all the way. "Gimme a second, baby. Gimme a second, phew!" Though nearly exhausted, he already secretly enjoyed the prospect of surprising Anna with some extra unanticipated bonus action, after his heartbeat had slowed down to a bearable rate again. It was a surprise that always worked. For the moment, Anna was still too affected to realize anything at all. Wilson put his hands under her armpits and slowly lifted her up from his mate's spurting dick, his own Johnson still buried in the tennis babe's ass. Thick drops of white cream seeped from her pussy as it kept spasming in the void, fruitlessly craving for the stake of hot meat it had been clamping at just seconds ago. "Hey, don't spill the Milk Shaq, young lady!" Shaquille chuckled, between pants. "Hold her right there!!" he instructed Wilson, as Anna herself wasn't exactly in a state to obey orders yet. Wilson steadied her in mid-air and Shaq straightened his dick right below the dripping lips, catching the hot fluid on his dickhead. He rubbed it into Anna's blond curls with it, making them stick to her mound. What a lovely dirty sight it was!! He hooked first one, and then two of his enormous fingers into her quivering pussy, giving a few quick jabs from left to right to coat them with some more creamy cum, and finished off by playfully rubbing it over her fleshy labia and clit hood. "Who wants a piece of Russian cream pie, tadadadie, tadadaaa...hehehe..." Shaq flashed his big white teeth while Anna moaned aloud under the continued palpating of her most private parts. "Looks like you're starting to run hot!" he joked when he felt the hotness of her flesh. Finally, after enjoying the view for a moment or two, Shaq maneuvered himself away from under his intimately coupled companions. "She's all yours, Wilson. Gotta make a phone call, but I'll be back," he grinned to his mate. Quick like a dog that gets clearance from his boss, Wilson immediately pushed Anna down on her knees on the floor, face pressed deep into the leather seat. Holding her arms behind her back in the least painful way possible, he continued ferociously humping the girl's tight ass while Shaq took his mobile. "FUCK man, oh FUCK.....pfffff........ YEAH!... FUCK!!... mpffff. Tight sweetie!!! I hope you like this as much as I do!!" The sound of dial tones mixed with the loud groans and moans of the fucking couple. "Hi Kobe! Shaq here... What you're up to, bud?.... I see.... So Carl and Horace are also there and you guys are having fun with the Lakers Girls, HAHAHA!! That's how I know you!!! Wadda you say, can you repeat? What that noise is? Wait a sec, brot'r..." Wilson was still humping Anna for all he was worth, turning the seats into one big mess. With each deep thrust into her virgin bowels, more of Shaq's spunk gushed out of her pussy that was oscillating under the anal battering. "Hey Wilson, turn your volume down a bit, will you? You KNOW Kobe's as deaf as a stone, man, LOL. And it's time to give the young lady some rest, because it's goanna be a busy night for her." At that very moment, Wilson orgasmed and shot his load into Anna's ass, producing a primal howl that made the windows of the van shudder. "Kobe....you still there buddy? Yeah... tell the guys to get their asses over to Shaq Palace. And bring some beer with you, will you? No... You can leave the ladies there; we have one here. CU there, man!" Barely conscious and dripping in sweat and cum, Anna was dropped onto the seats. A strange mixture of panic and impatient longing filled her, as the van drove off in the capable hands of Wilson, heading towards Shaq Palace together with at least four other cars. It was going to be a busy night indeed...

_This story is dedicated to all of the girls that tried to keep their virginity and their boyfriend, to all of the wives that tried to keep their mate sated and faithful._ Techsan read and edited the dedication above and the following story. Now I add techsan to the dedication. He edited about a fifth of this story and read the remaining parts that I had finished. He said, "I like what you've done with the story so far and am looking forward to see where it goes." The original intent was to finish and release this in early October but things happen. I feel driven to live up to his expectations and I hope I succeed. The world is a poorer place without techson and I am a richer man for his touch upon my life. I would like to thank Solitary Thinker also for his help and direction. He is a great thinker as well a 'Solitary'one. *** Oct 10, 2006 I grieved for what was and what could have been as I watched my handful of dirt turn to mud on the casket below. The drizzling rain hid the tears in my eyes that betrayed what could have been as my soul soared on the wings of what was. My mind drifted back to that day at the bar where it all began. Just another day like so many before yet so pivotal. I never dreamed it would go this far nor end like this. *** **Day 1** Aug 29, 2005 I always enjoyed a drink with friends at The Junction, our neighborhood bar, at the end of a long day. Mike was his usual crotchety old self, complaining that his two gorgeous daughters were going to be the death of him if they couldn't stay out of trouble. Curt, a divorced working man and old buddy, always joined me in ribbing Mike about our failed attempts to fuck his daughters in our youth. For some reason this only made Mike more proud of his daughters. Denny was a new addition to the happy hour crowd and was telling his own stories about the daughters. We were interrupted from our joking by my cell phone ringing. "Hello," I said. "Hi. Where are you?" my wife Trista's melodious voice rang over my phone. "I'm at the bar. Where are you?" "In bed," she replied in a drawn out sexy voice. I shuddered at the picture in my mind and the carnal thoughts that accompanied it. As I arched my right eyebrow in anticipation I saw Mike staring at me. His intensity made me wonder if he had noticed. Under the watchful eye of Mike, I said, "I understand. Bye. I love you." "Bye bye. I love you too." As we were talking I had no indication of the happy days ahead nor the sad ones along the way. I hung up and turned to the other regulars I was sitting with and told them that I had to go. Knowing that Mike had watched me, I recognized the start of his fishing expedition when he asked, "Are you cooking dinner tonight, Joe?" I laughed. Mike knew that if I get home before my wife I usually cook dinner. The odds of my getting laid are greatly increased if she comes home to a hot meal than if she has to cook it when she is dead tired. I thought I would slide on out of there with a simple, "No, Trista is home." "Is Trista cooking?" Mike asked. Mike always was persistent if not single tracked so to end it with honesty, I replied, "No, she is in bed." Everyone there assumed the same thing that I was assuming and they erupted in laughter. I left without any further questions. When I got home I found Trista lying on the bed with her chin in her palm looking seductive and sexy as hell. She had on a sheer leopard robe that accentuated all of her voluptuous curves. There wasn't a single button fastened and I could see she was totally naked under the robe. She looked up at me with those deep green eyes and said, "I'm a beast." On the way home I'd been wondering what Trista had planned. Was it to be straight sex, a quickie or was it to be some kind of game. Now my heart fluttered at the thought of a little role-playing and I jumped right in. "Oh, yeah, baby. You always were a real animal." "Nooo, I went to the doctor today. His chart said that I'm obese." Anyone that has been in a similar situation would identify with my'_deer_ caught in the headlights look'. I was ready for a little role-playing and was now facing a female emotional crisis. Being unable to quickly think of some way to salvage this situation, I decided to stick with my original thought. "Oh, yeah, baby. You always were a real animal and now I'm your prey." As I climbed onto the bed and moved towards her, Trista said, "You know just how to make me feel desired. You know that's why I called you." "I know," I said. "You're the embodiment of a leopard, sleek, graceful and quick. That's hotter than anything I imagined while racing home." "You really do love me." As I spread her legs, I said, "Yes, but I have to eat this _leopard pussy_ before I get eaten. Law of the jungle you know." "Oh, I don't know. When mom taught me about the _Birds and the Bees,_ she didn't mention that part." It seemed that Trista was getting into the game but was playing hard to get. Maybe my next question would clear things up.. "I bet she didn't tell you about getting fucked like a _bitch in heat_ either." Trista said, "Eat or be eaten. Law of the jungle you know," as she guided my head between her legs. Well, that was clear enough for me so I buried my face in her _pussy_. Before long I had her singing like a _canary_. My tongue was flicking her clit as I licked her slit; round and round I went. I tried to keep my tongue dry and rough like a _cat's_ but Trista's juices were flowing like a fountain. I _snaked_ my tongue into her love canal until she was panting like a _fish_ out of water. When Trista came like a river I knew it was time for my _trouser trout_ to make a spawning run upstream. It knew the way instinctively and at the headwaters of Trista's love canal it made the mighty plunge. Trista started _buck_ ing wildly beneath me. The pace was frenzied as if we were _fucking like rabbits_ though I've never seen a _rabbit_ fucking in the missionary position - oh, well. Exhaustion came and I could pound her _pussy_ no longer. I wrapped Trista in a _bear_ hug pulling her deeper onto my _cock_. We ground together as we caught our breath. While I contemplated how rabbits really do fuck I realized that mounting from behind already has a name. It's called'_doggy style_'so 'fucking like rabbits' must refer to the rapid pounding pace. I whispered _'doggy style'_ into Trista's ear as I released her from the _bear_ hug. She rolled over and raised up her _ass_ for me to take her. I thought this shit don't happen in real life. Well, I was going to mount this _bitch_ while the mounting was good. She backed her _ass_ into me when I started to enter her. When we had a good rhythm going I noticed her _puppies_ swaying back and forth. How does one get _puppies?_ First you have to fuck her like a _bitch in heat_. Grabbing Trista's hips firmly, I said, "Here comes the getting fucked like a _bitch in heat_ part." She started to whimper as I stroked long and slow. As the pace changed from long and slow to fast and furious the whimper became a howl. Commands spilled from my lips. "Bark... Bark at the moon, _bitch_." "Hooowwlllll." You can see the bar from our bedroom window and I could hear the sound of a Harley starting up over Trista's howling. I assumed it was Denny since he had been the only one there on a Harley. "Louder, _bitch_!" I yelled. "HOOOWWLLLLL!" I started howling myself when I felt my orgasm building. This was becoming too much for the senses to bear. The concoction of sex, sound, sweat and fury was intoxicating. If I stopped now it would end. If I kept going it would really end with a massive orgasm. Once my orgasm was eminent I plunged my _cock_ deep into her _pussy_ and held her tight so she couldn't move. The intent was to stem my orgasm but her _snapper_ was still milking my _cock_. I started to dribble and pulled out of her before I had a major orgasm. Trista started laughing like a _hyena_. The small amount of cum that I had deposited deep within her started to roll out of her _pussy_ down her split and across her clit. My first reaction was to reach for a towel to wipe her slit but there wasn't one. I knew that a wet spot would spoil the moment so I did the only thing I could. Placing my head under her _beaver_ allowed me to swirl my cum around her clit with my tongue. Trista squirmed and squealed as I swirled around her clit. I was happier than a _pig_ in shit until another load came rolling down her split and across her clit. Yes, I had to swallow the first load to make room for the second. Obviously the amount of my cum mixed with her cum wasn't so small. I ran my tongue up her slit to catch as much of the cum as I could. The unwritten rule had always been 'If she had to swallow it during a blowjob I had to kiss her afterwards.' therefore she has to kiss me after a creampie. With cum in my mouth I _crab crawled_ from underneath and kissed her. We shared with tongues swirling and fingers twirling nipples. After our cum swap I went back to her clit and slit to maintain her aroused state. As I was licking her clit and fingering her _pussy_ I realized how much Trista was getting off on this and that it wasn't that bad once the major load was gone. Maybe this could be a way to get Trista used to the taste of cum again. If she had to taste it regardless maybe she would give in and taste it during a blowjob again. It had been along time since she swallowed. Hell, it had been a long time since she sucked it. Trista started to squirm and squeal and I swallowed as she came. My _cock_ was rock hard and it needed relief. As I _crab crawled_ up the bed and beneath her I asked Trista to take top. She rose to her knees and climbed into the saddle in a fluid motion. Her _pussy_ was so sopping wet that my _cock_ hit bottom on the first stroke. "Fuck me like a _cowgirl,_ baabyy." "I'll be your _cowgirl,_ baby, but I'm going to fuck you like my _wild stallion._ " I whinnied, "Wheeeeheheh... wheeh" and she proceeded to make good on her promise. She rode me long and hard like a _wild stallion_ as I braced her _puppies_ with my hands for pivot support. I was her bucking _bronco_ and try as I might I could not throw her. As she started to stiffen I bucked wildly beneath her. I spilled my seed at her first contraction. My sperm were making that final run like _salmon_ with one objective: reproduce or die. Trista leaned over me in her final spasms and gave me her own _bear_ hug. We were soaring like _eagles_ in our post-orgasmic bliss. My thoughts as I lay there were 'WOW that was a _whale_ of a good fuck, most satisfying.' I buried that thought in light of the prior 'beast/obese' mistake. There was no sense throwing fuel on that fire. As we lay on the bed Trista started telling me about her visit to the doctor. The first thing they do is weigh you. There is always a chart hanging on the wall that correlates your weight and height. That's when her troubles started. Some invisible line had been crossed, another category, another label. Then came the litany of excuses of why it was okay to be overweight but not obese. I failed to contain myself and let a small chuckle escape. Trista pounced on it and said, "It's not an excuse, damnit, Joe... you know that I've had two children. It's hard to get that shape back and loose the weight. Most women never do." Trista had rolled onto her stomach and I straddled her thighs and started to rub her shoulders. "I know, dear, but you've lost your weight twice. The first time was after Ron was born. Jill and you did a lot of walking and you're ass was so hard." I reached down and kneaded her soft supple ass with both hands to emphasize my words. "The second time was that diet that's not a diet. Eat less and move more." "Jill and I walked all day. We walked and shopped from the time we dropped Trina off at school until it was time to pick her up. Plus I was burning more calories because I was pushing Ron around in the stroller. I don't have the time for that now that I'm working and I don't have Ron to push around." Leaning into her I applied pressure as I ran my hands up each side of her back. Trista relaxed as the tension drained from her. "Well, that covers the first time you lost the weight. What about the second time?" "I'm working now. It's really hard to get a routine going when your work schedule fluctuates like mine. I can't do the things requested with the timing required. If only I had someone to work with, to walk with like Jill." My hands slid from her back to the sides of her breasts in a circular rubbing motion. She momentarily tensed from the tickling sensation. "It's really too bad that she moved away. There isn't enough time to lose it all by walking. It would have to be some combination of diet, exercise and walking." Trista turned her head towards me. "It's like I said before. If only I had someone to work with... to walk with." Moving from her thighs to the floor, I replied, "You said 'like Jill' and now you're looking at me." As I spread her legs, she replied, "Why can't you walk with me and... and work with me? If you didn't bring food around me constantly I wouldn't have to look at it. When someone brings food in and starts nibbling in front of you it's very hard to resist the temptation. You don't have to diet but don't tempt me either." I gently took her ankles and started to bend her knees. Once I had her feet touching each other I guided them in overlapping counter-rotating circles. As the pace quickened her muscles relaxed allowing an even flow. You could easily tell if she was tense or fighting you because of an uneven flow. "If I were to do this I would essentially be your trainer. As your trainer I would help with encouragement to resist temptation. I wouldn't be allowed to snack in front of you but as your trainer you would have to listen and obey. When I said give me twenty squats you would have to give me twenty. When I chart your progress and give constructive feedback you will have to accept and act. Combine that with your independent streak and I see potential trouble for me. The question is whether it would be more trouble than it's worth." "With the shape I would have in the end I think you should be willing to do just about anything for a sexier wife. I think I can do that." Trista's knees were at maximum bend; her heels almost touching her ass. I applied pressure gently until her heels were on her ass and held them there as I pondered her statement. Unknowingly she had touched on one of my nagging doubts. A lot of my friends have lost their wives once they've lost the weight. Was our love strong enough to deal with the attention a hot wife attracts? I thought it was but only God and the Shadow knows what lurks in the hearts of men (and women). If she is really committed I couldn't in good conscience let her be overweight because of some slut wives I've known. Regardless it would be nice to have my hot wife back. "Could you? Could you submit to me? I think you'd end up hating me. If I commit my time to something I expect results." "I expect results too. It should be more like partners than a trainer. If we were partners I think you would get better results." As I moved from the floor to the bed between Trista's knees I released her feet. My intent was to keep her legs spread once I released control. Now that my hands were free I started to massage Trista's waist. "Well, before you think about that, think about this. You could be everything I want in bed simply by doing what I desire. I'd never request something that we've not already enjoyed the pleasure of. It would be nicer if I never had to make a request. The same would apply to your exercise and diet. You've lost your babies' weight gain twice and you can do it again. I would ask no more than that. I will be your partner if you will agree to work on all of the above. We could call it our sexercise program." "Sexercise? What did you have in mind? More sex than walking." My hands slid down the sides of her waist kneading the supple curves along the way to her belly. She lifted slightly to allow access. "Well... 'eat less and move more'. The'move more' part would be a daily walk. You would have a captive audience for a half hour a day to talk about all of the things you talk about before sex. Then we can talk about sex during sex. Sprinkle in a mixture of sex, squats, sit-ups and there is your program." "Why the squats and sit-ups? What about kegels? I thought, "Kegels... now there is something I didn't think of." She relaxed on the bed as my hands moved across her ass on the way to the V of her spread legs. "Well... we all know what the kegels are for and that's an excellent idea. The sit-ups are for your tummy and the squats are for sex." Trista quivered and giggled as I gently ran a finger up her slit. "Oh... I should have known. Well... losing weight is hard and takes time. Your request is also hard and neither is going to happen overnight. If you're going to help me lose weight I suppose the least I can do is try." "Does that mean you'll agree?" "It sounds like it could be a win-win situation for us." So began the happy days. We started our daily walks the next morning and the sexercise the next night. Life was good. *** _The following chapters will be posted in the category that best fits them. There is one more techson chapter, 6 chapters waiting for edit and half of another to be written. My intent was to release a finished 9-chapter story rather than a work in progress. I apologize for that but things happen and I would like an editor._ If you had to try, how many euphemisms can you come up with to describe the dirty dirty? And could you put it to music and make it catchy, too? Pop music has always commonly featured saucy subject matter, and the range is pretty wide. Some are more obvious than others, like "Wicked Game," "She Shook Me All Night Long, and "Love Game." But I thought it would be fun to point out those songs that really do sound like love songs both sweet and fun, but are, in fact, all about gettin' it on. Here are some of them, in chronological order. **Drive My Car (1966) --** The Beatles _Why you might think it's a love song:_ Probably this line at the end of the chorus: "Maybe I'll love you." _Why it's definitely, totally about sex:_ McCartney has said so. He observes that "drive my car" is an old, blues euphemism for sex. In fact, many of the Beatles over the years have admitted that many of their songs are actually quite dirty. Even "Come Together," which was intended to be a protest song, nevertheless features Lennon's heavy breathing during the bridge, followed by an orgasmic groan at the end -- hardly an accident. And the line, "She's a big teaser" in "Day Tripper" is said to have originally been "She's a prick teaser." The Beatles must have seen the popularity of the boyish romp, "Hanky Panky," and just copied that, because all they seem to sing about is how to find a pretty girl and get into her pants. _Hottest Lyric:_ The title lyric is pretty good, but so is this - _"But I can show you a better time..."_ **Mama Mia (1975) --** ABBA _Why you might think it's a love song:_ There are plenty of lovesick images ("brokenhearted," "blue," etc), and a relationship that is talked about like it is serious. It seems like it might just be about a girl who misses her ex, despite how he treated her. _Why it is definitely, totally about sex:_ The line, "Just one look and I can hear a bell ring," is an obvious sexual metaphor for orgasm. The bell refers both to the head of the penis, and also to the clitoris, with the "ringing" effectively meaning orgasm for either. Bell also refers sometimes to the hymen, having a long tradition in religion as a metaphor for consummation, though I'm not sure ABBA meant it that way. The metaphor was used to great effect in the funk-pop song, "Ring My Bell," for example. But be sure of one thing, the real story of "Mama Mia" is simply this: Whatever happened before in the relationship, and despite whether the man loves her back, _he makes her really fucking horny_. Maybe she loves him, but it really doesn't matter because she loses control whenever he's around. It's very physical ("Does it show again?" and "Just one look..."). When you take into account the energy of the music, this song makes for a very powerful expression of feminine sexuality (also a very relevant topic when this song came out). _Hottest lyric:_ _"Just one look and I can hear a bell ring"_ and _"My my, how can I resist you?"_ **Do That To Me Once Again (1979)** \-- Captain & Tennille _Why you might think it's a love song:_ It has the sound and lyrics of many of the 80's love songs that followed. The second verse also references talking ("tell it to me one more time..."), and what is sexy at all about talking? Gotta be a romance song, right? _Why it's definitely, totally about sex:_ The title contains the words DO THAT TO ME. Yup, it's totally about makin' a woman come. It might also be romantic sex, but sex nonetheless. There's nothing else a guy could do for a girl that would make her sing like this, let's be honest. I'm sure if I was to go through all the love songs of the 80's, I might find that this is a trend. _Hottest lyric:_ _"Once is never enough with a man like you..."_ **I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight (1986)** \-- Cutting Crew _Why you might think it's a love song:_ On top of the soft, symphonic music, the first part of the song's lyrics seems to echo some vaguely romantic setting. "Broken hearts lie all around me," "Her diary sits on the bedside table," and "It must have been some kind of kiss." All very romantic stuff, right? _Why it's definitely, totally about sex:_ According to _The Billboard Book of Number One Hits,_ writer Nick Van Eade thought of the title to the song _while he was having sex with his girlfriend_. No, seriously. It refers to the French phrase, " _un petite mort_," which means, "the little death." It's another way of describing the moment of orgasm, and every soccer mom that has this song playing on the iPod in the kitchen probably hasn't got a clue. Or maybe they do. _Hottest lyric:_ _It was a long hot night she made it easy She made it feel right_ **Sledgehammer (1986)** \-- Peter Gabriel _Why you might think it's a love song:_ If you've only heard the song once while you were at the laundry mat and didn't pay much attention to the lyrics, you'd probably think it was simply a song about a guy who wants the chance to prove that he can make a particular woman happy. He does everything just short of offering to lasso the moon, as the old cliché goes. "You could have a steam train..." he sings. "I'll be anything you need." _Why it's definitely, totally about sex:_ Actually, when you read the lyrics, it's pretty darn obvious. Every line -- and I mean every one -- is a tongue-in-cheek metaphor for sex. That train, like the famous last shot of Hitchcock's _North by Northwest_, is totally a metaphor for a penis. In fact, Peter Gabriel has so much fun using every sexual innuendo he can think of, he even slips a little Meta commentary into the song with, "This amusement never ends." He just wants to get laid, and that's it. Seriously. Anytime you hear in a song the phrase, "I'll be anything you need," it's safe to assume that it's a seduction song (especially if it's a guy singing -- Leonard Cohen's "I'm Your Man," for example). _Hottest lyric:_ There's too many to choose from, but this is the one that brings it home: _"I've been feeding the rhythm_ _Going to feel that power build in you"_ Honorable Mention: **Semi-Charmed Life (1997)** \-- Third Eye Blind While the rest of these have been sexual songs that sound like love songs, this is a song that has the reverse problem: it is seen as a song about sex and drugs, but is actually kind of a love song. The lyrics are as sophisticated as they come, and they tell a very compelling story in an unusual way. When you read them, I'll bet you'll never think of 90's pop the same way, either. It's only regarded as a song about drugs and sex by people who have actually read the lyrics. To most people, though, it is about the bitter-sweet, self- deprecating yet tragically hopeful outlook that typified the 90's. It also has the sound of the 90's, and few songs embody the ethos of 90's pop as effectively. The song is definitely about sex, to be sure, and it is quite graphic. From the first verse, we get lines like "She comes round and she goes down on me," and "coming over you." Later, it is even more graphic, and even when it is being serious, it does so always with a double entendre. The interesting thing is that the narrator is not making an original statement in the chorus, but is actually quoting the girl he just slept with, who had this to say of their casual affair: "I want something else..." The second verse is more about his addiction to meth, but it comes back around to, "How do I get back there to the place where I fell asleep inside you." More than a sexual innuendo, it also doubles as an image of maternal sanctuary, like the line "you're the priestess, I must confess." Like most addicts, his problem is a lack of coping skills. What happens, I think, is he goes from having a sex addiction to actually falling in love with a girl who's just as fucked up as he is. He starts to realize it with "And you hold me / And we're broken." But he can't believe that it's love: "She's got her jaws now locked down in a smile / But nothing is alright." The key is in the bridge. When he talks about feeling sand beneath his toes, and a faith that grows (again with the sexual innuendo), he acknowledges a belief that it is possible to be happy, and to feel something like love -- even if he does confuse love with lust. In the end, when he sings the chorus, he is not quoting the girl, but is stating it for himself. He believes it now. The ending is left ambiguous: "Not listening when you say / Good-bye." Who he is saying bye to is sort of a mystery. But being a romantic, I think it means she left him (possibly because she, also being a sex addict, couldn't cope just yet). So yes, I think this is a love song. A twisted and tragic sort of love song, but a love song nonetheless. _Hottest lyrics:_ _"Those little red panties they pass the test Slide up around the belly, face down on the mattress"_

As Alice lay in bed that night, she could not help herself, her husband was away on one of his weekly overnight trips, but she was feeling the regular need for release. Don't get her wrong, she had a great sex life with her husband of nineteen years, but almost since she'd first lost her virginity, she had found the way to enjoy giving herself pleasure. Nothing could replace the joy she enjoyed with her husband but.... Settling down and getting herself ready, she plugged her headphones into her mp3 player and found her newest track. It had arrived in her email that morning, and she had been wet with anticipation all day, knowing this moment would come. Just before hitting play, she recollected the thought from earlier that this was the first anniversary of the encounter so instead of hitting play, she lay back and replayed in her mind, that day twelve months ago. It was a lovely warm summer day with the typical brilliant blue sky and cotton-like clouds that time of year was famous for. On a whim, Alice had decided to have a day off, and to go up into the mountains to take some photos, so she packed a light picnic and set off. She'd had great morning and felt she had some beautiful photos, and had stopped by a small stream to have some lunch. Opening her picnic, she had enjoyed her favorite treats, and lay back to enjoy the warmth of the sun. Fighting the urge to just give in and relax, she packed everything away into the small backpack, and began following the trail, knowing that it would loop around back to where she'd left the car. All of a sudden as she was walking along a steep part of the trail, her foot shot out from under her as she'd stepped on a loose stone. Her heart pounding, she lay still for a minute, gradually she began to move, hoping she had not hurt herself. Checking her ankle she felt a massive relief as she found that despite some minor discomfort, it would take her weight. Checking her camera and the rest of her items, she felt a strange sensation. Reaching down to her butt, she found the back seam of her favorite jeans had given way in the fall, the rent in the back went from just below the waist band, all the way round to the bottom. The only thing that had stopped her jeans from turning into chaps was the zipper at the front. 'Honestly, just my luck,' she said to herself in disbelief. Wrapping the spare jumper she had brought in case it got cold around her waist to cover her now naked buttocks, she began the trip back to her car. As she walked along, despite the pain from her ankle, the torn edges of her jeans gently created a friction on her lower lips. She found that the slight breeze which had begun, caused her lips to become moist. A short while later, as the pain in her ankle began to increase, she limped around corner in the trail and came across him. He was sat resting on his large back pack, the kind people used for long hikes and camping, while he was eating a snack. His gaze slowly raised to take her in, and she felt her breath catch in the back of her throat. He slowly stood up, and she noted he was lean and good shape, guessing him to be about 50 ish. His short salt and pepper hair was still damp from his trekking. He spoke, his voice giving away his English origin, 'Are you ok? Did you know you have blood on your face?' Alice raised her hand to her face, finding some dried blood above her left eye, 'Oh,' she breathed 'I slipped on the trail a while ago, and must have banged my head when I landed, but was too concerned about my ankle to realise.' 'May I offer some you my assistance? I have some medical training, and would be happy to help, that is if you'd like.' His manners impressed her as did his offer. She smiled and nodded her assent. He moved forward and helped her move to the side of the trail where his pack lay. He asked her to give him a moment, as he pulled out a foam bedroll, then easing her down onto it. Alice found herself pulling her jumper round, to cover her lap and protect her naked rear from his view. Taking a well stocked first aid kit and a fresh bottle of water from his pack, he leant forward to clean the cut above her eye. The scent of him greeted her nose as he touched her with hints of sandalwood and musk from his exertions. He finished cleaning her cut and used a small bit of steri strip to close the cut. 'Now,' he said'how about I take a look at your ankle. Do you mind?' Seeing bandages in the first aid kit, she gave her permission. He slipped her boot off her foot, and slid the sock off. Slowly and gently he examined her ankle, asking a question now and then. Finally he reached into his pack, drawing out a long white plastic pack, slapping it on his hand, then shaking it, he applied it to her ankle. The sudden hit of coldness stunned her, 'Ah, sorry about that.' he said as she flinched from the sudden cold, 'It's a chemical ice pack and will take down some of the swelling. We'll leave it like that for 30 minutes, then I'll bandage it up. Do you have transport nearby?' She explained her car was down the trail, about another 30 to 40 minutes away. 'Then rest and I'll escort you down. You should be ok to drive I think, it's just a sprain, but walking on it has aggravated it.' He smiled and sat down a short distance away, 'Do you mind if I make an observation?' he asked. 'No, go ahead and ask' she replied. His face blushed slightly, and he gave a small cough to clear his throat, 'While I was sorting your ankle I could not help but notice the damage to your jeans. I have some spare bottoms that should fit you. They not very smart, but they are clean'? he left the offer hanging in the air. Alice felt herself blushing with embarrassment as she wondered how much had he seen? She chided herself for failing to make adjustments as he'd been checking her ankle. Could he have seen the wetness from where the edges of the jeans had rubbed? Not sure how to proceed, and fighting the growing embarrassment, she let the silence stretch. He purposefully moved to his pack, and began drawing items out. Clothing and food appeared, and it rapidly became clear to Alice that this man was camping as well as hiking. Finally he sat back, and with eyes lowered offered her a pair of brightly coloured baggy bottoms. He went back to the pack and then handed her a towel, suggesting she wrap the towel around herself while she changed. Alice stood and wrapping the towel around her waist, undid her jeans and eased them down. She could feel the slight breeze as it picked up, making her lips tingle even more. As she began to slip his baggy bottoms on, she felt her ankle start to give, and she began to fall backward. His arms caught her as she was falling, his body cushioning her, his breath punching out of him with the impact of the fall. Alice realised that in the fall, the towel had fallen away, leaving her totally naked from the waist down but for the bottoms hanging from her damaged ankle. Stunned by what happened next, she felt his strong hand on her buttock, slowly, as they lay there. She felt his hand move, beginning to massage her ample buttock, as it continued its work, she felt her lips opening in response. The squeezing continued when she made no move to stop him. She closed her eyes, letting her head drop back as she enjoying the feeling of his firm caress, his mouth made contact with the back of her neck, beginning to nibble gently. She could feel his manhood beginning to stiffen as his other hand moved round to her pussy, and the fingers of that hand worked the lips first, then she felt his fingers probing to enter her. She let her thighs fall apart to allow him access, as her juices began to flow with the thrill of his caresses. She lay there enjoying the feeling of his hands, one squeezing and rubbing at her buttock, the other with with a finger delving inside her and the thumb rubbing at her clit. Alice felt the rush building and gave into her orgasm, feeling her juice following like a river out of her pussy, drenching his hand. The wetness streaming down her slit, over her anus to her buttock, which he used to massage her buttocks. As the first waves subsided she could feel his manhood straining at the front of his trousers. With a shiver, all she could think about was him releasing his cock from its confinement and showing her what he could do with it. But instead, he rolled her over onto her hands and knees, his hand moving round to continue to play between her lips. He began to lick and bite at first one butt cheek, then the other. Dropping her head down to be cushioned on her arms, her rounded butt thrust upwards for him to work on her. His mouth moved from her buttocks and moved to lick at her full slit, end to end. His tongue working the full length down to her dripping pussy and back up again, pausing to lick at her anus, sending shudders through her body. She knelt there, arms pillowed on her forearms, exposed fully to him, she left any bit of inhibition behind as she fully surrendered to him. He, with his mouth working away, had one hand playing with her slit and clit, the other had returned to squeezing and caressing her butt cheek. The hand working her butt moved off her, and she heard his zipper going down. Unable to resist, she turned her head on her arms and looked back to see his throbbing, pulsing manhood, fully engorged, deliciously long and thick. Her breathing quickened in anticipation of the pleasure she was about to feel. Her pussy responding in kind to send another flood of juice as his actions sent her over the edge again. He moved forwards, teasing her slit with the head of his throbbing manhood, working up and down the length of her vulva. The fingers had stayed where they were, working away on her clit. His free hand rubbed and caressed her ample buttocks as he moved forwards slowly, skewering her slowly on his length. She felt herself stretching inside to take his length and girth. He kept moving forwards, filling her more and more with his length. Finally he was buried to the hilt with his balls touching her lips. A long deep sigh escaped their mouths in unison as they both enjoyed the pleasure of being locked together. He slowly began to move in her, pulling almost all the way out, then slowly pushing in to fill her again, and gradually began to increase the speed of his movements. The hand that had been working on her buttock moved, and she found her top had fallen and gathered below her shoulders, leaving her full breasts exposed. His hand moved to one and worked first on the full breast, before concentrating on her rock hard and fully erect nipple. She began pushing back to meet his thrust, chasing his withdrawing cock, trying to keep him deep inside her. His fingers now began to gently tap at her engorged clit, sending fresh trills rolling through her. Unable to help herself, she began to moan, the volume increasing with the pace of his ever pounding thrusts. Her hand moved down to her clit, helping herself over the edge. He pulled out and splashed his seed all over her buttocks, rubbing the creamy goodness into her skin. She turned her head with an impish grin on her face, she offered him one of her hands. She pulled his cum sticky fingers to her lips and licked them clean. With a smile, he found the discarded towel and gently wiped her dripping slit. 'I think your should sit down to put these on,' he chuckled as he handed her the bottoms again. She blushed and then broke out into laughter as she took them from his hand. They began to tidy themselves up and get ready to head down to her car. He packed his backpack up, and reached down to help her to her feet. They made their way back down the trail to her car, with him supporting her by placing his arm round her little waist, and her arm across his shoulders. As they walked, they made general conversation about each other, and she discovered he was hiking across the state. When they reach her car, she offered to drive him in the general direction he'd been heading, as he'd had to turn round to bring her back to the car. He ummed and ahhed for as few minutes before accepting the offer. She drove him for about an hour or two, as she drove, Alice replayed their union on the trail, and felt herself getting moist again at the memory. A short while later he stated she taken him far enough, and she could drop him anywhere along this stretch of road. The road was passing through a small forest, with turn offs to various picnic spots spread around. Taking the next one she saw, Alice pulled off the road, driving down to a secluded spot which was deserted. They sat in silence for a minute or two, Alice could feel the tension in him, as she felt her heart pounding in her chest. Finally as an idea came to her, she broke the silence. 'Now I really do need to give you your bottoms back don't I?,' she turned and met his eye, giving him an impish grin as she opened her door and got out of the car. She slowly eased the bottoms down, watching his gaze as he followed her movements. Her eyes moved from his to the front of his trousers and enjoyed the reaction she could see taking place. Smiling, he opened his door and walked round to her. As he walked towards her, she could see his erect cock straining at the front of his trousers. 'Now I seem to remember telling you not to put any weight on that ankle.' Finishing speaking as he reached her, he placed his hands on her hips and lifted her, so that her buttocks rested on the roof of her car, just above the door. Smiling, he moved closer and began to kiss her, while she worked at the buttons of his shirt, reaching in and raking her nails across his chest. A low moan escaped his lips as he moved his mouth down to her neck, opening her blouse with his finger. He reached in as well, playing with her gorgeous breasts and teasing her nipples. With one hand still working on her breast and his mouth moving from her ear to her neck, he reached down to undo the front of his trousers. Sliding over his firm rear, they fell to a pool around his ankles. Kicking his legs to free himself of them, he moved his head down to work on her sexy nipples, which were now hard and rosy. His hand deftly pushing the blouse from her shoulders as he did so, leaving her totally naked and exposed. His head then dropped further, kissing its way down her belly to her by now dripping pussy. His mouth worked to lap up her juices, pausing every now and then to tease at her clit. Finally he lifted his mouth to her, his face slick with her nectar, they kissed once more. Then lifting her from the roof of the car, he lowered her slowly onto his by now totally throbbing cock, her hand snaking down to guide him into her. Slowly he lowered her, until she came to rest, her short cropped pubic hair mingled with his, with the root of his cock firmly pushing against her clit. Her arms moved to help take the weight by resting them on the roof of the car, as slowly he began to move, gently lifting her almost off, then lowering her down. Her pussy began to throb and contract with electric thrills, enjoying being stretched and filled by his pulsing cock. Suddenly he lifted her full weight, and carrying her, still impaled on his cock, across to a picnic table. He leaned forward and lowered her butt to the table, she could feel the rough wood surface on her buttocks, heightening the erotic sensations coursing through her. Grasping her thighs, he moved them to around his waist. She understood immediately, dug her heels into his buttock as he began to push in and out of her with increasing speed and force. Her orgasm started to roll through her, lifting her higher and higher in throes of ecstasy. He grabbed her legs once again and lifting her ankles to his shoulders, as he drove into her with a force that was breathtaking. His hand squeezing and massaging her buttocks as he thrust into her depths with increasing urgency as his own orgasm rapidly approached. Suddenly he stopped on the end of a back stroke and pulled out, shooting his cum all over her breasts and belly. As he stood there getting his breath back, Alice began rubbing his cum into her breast, finally lifting her cum covered fingers to her sexy lips and licked them clean, her eyes locked with his as she did so. With a wicked grin she told him how great he tasted. 'I have to say M'lady, you taste so good. You are so juicy, I could spend a week down there, enjoying every lick and taste of your sweet nectar.' Finally, they returned to the car to tidy themselves up and get dressed. He shared some food with her before smiling, shouldering his pack, he leant in to kiss her one last time, pulling away and saying 'Thank you for letting me...rescue you, the reward was fantastic and something I'll never forget.' Raising a finger to her lips to prevent a reply, he smiled, turned and walked away. A month later, as Alice read her emails at home, she found one sent from someone calling himself 'Hiker,' she opened it to find a short message thanking her for the memories of a greatest pleasure a man could have. Every few weeks from then on, she would get an email, sometimes it was an mp3 track, and other times a short message. As Alice finished remembering that day, she realised that she'd need to change her sheets in order to sleep, while she's been remembering, she had ejaculated her love juice all over her vibrator and hand, and her butt was in a pool of her love juice, having changed her sheets, Alice was able to finally go to sleep, as fully sated as she could be without her husband being there. Between work, kids, chores, and volunteering, it's hard to ever get some time to myself. But today, as luck would have it, I have the entire Saturday afternoon to myself to do whatever I want. Hmmm shopping? No. Go to the spa for a mani/pedi? No. Clean the house? DEFINITELY not! I have something much more interesting in mind... I plug in the wax warmer and set it to medium heat. It'll take awhile to melt the wax, but that gives me time to jump in the shower and clean up first. The hot water feels so good as it hits my skin, warming me and soothing my muscles. The soapy lather slides down my body, making my smooth skin slippery to the touch. I squeeze both of my enormous bubbly breasts, cupping them in my hand and pinching my nipples until they are rock hard. With extra care, I reach down between my legs with a soapy hand and stroke the outside of my pussy, running my fingers through the folds, occasionally slipping a couple of fingers deep inside. I put another hand down my backside, cleaning my ass and tickling my cheerio to be sure I'm clean everywhere. The sensations feel good, but I must wait - good things come to those who wait. And today there's no rush. I towel off and begin to assemble the rest of the supplies that I'll need. A torn up brown-paper bag on the floor to catch the wax drippings.. a lighted mirror.. the pre-wax powder.. the tweezers.. a footstool.. and the box of wooden spatulas. Using one of the spatulas, I stir the wax and confirm that it's all melted, then I take the powder and cover my pussy, clit, thighs, and ass with it, making sure everything is dry and powdery. Next I sit on the footstool and spread my legs wide, looking at my open pussy in the mirror. I take a large glob of melted wax on the end of the spatula and spread it down one side of my pussy. Startled, I stop for a second when I realize the wax is a little too hot, but I know it'll cool quickly and after pain always comes pleasure. Once the side is completely covered in wax, I let it cool and harden while I repeat the process on the other side. Again, my skin momentarily burns from the heat, but in a good way, and within seconds that side is covered, too. A quick check of the first side confirms that it's ready to be ripped off. I take a couple of deep breaths to prepare myself, then pull my skin tight, grab the bottom end of the strip, inhale deeply, and rip it off while sharply exhaling to cope with the pain. A quick look at the strip confirms that it's covered in hair, violently pulled by the roots from the lips of my pussy. Looking in the mirror, I see that my assaulted pussy lip is red and slightly swollen. I pull the skin tight on the other side, grab the bottom, and again exhale while ripping the hair out of that side of my pussy. Now, my poor pussy looks angry and puffy, but immediately the painful sensation of ripping out the hair is replaced by an erotic warmth, making my pussy tingly. Moisture is gathering inside and starts to glisten from deep within. Next I work on my clit, one of the most painful parts of the process. Covering the area around my clit with hot wax is so erotic, the heat yields such an incredible sensation. While that wax hardens, I apply wax a little higher on my belly, leaving only the formation of a perfect landing strip. As I rip the wax strip off from around my clit, I bite my lip to avoid screaming from the pain, but my waxed pussy looks so beautiful when everything is clean and exposed. Lastly, my ass. It's a challenge to reach down there to spread the wax, and a challenge to remove it, as well. Hot wax on my asshole feels amazing, but the pain to remove it is awful. Regardless, it's worthwhile knowing that a few seconds of pain will be replaced by arousing warm and tingly sensations, and my sweet spots will stay smooth for a couple of weeks. Another strange thing that I noticed once I started waxing, is that a bare pussy is incredibly sensitive when there is no hair to get between you and your panties. One day, I was sitting in a meeting at work and when I leaned forward in the conference room chair, my panties made contact with my clit and put pressure on it, and I actually had a mild orgasm that lasted for 30 seconds or sso! Surrounded by a half dozen men in a boring meeting - I had an orgasm, and nobody knew! I thought maybe it was a fluke thing, but then it happened again.. and again.. and again. I found that I could actually make an orgasm happen at will - anytime, anyplace - just by leaning forward in such a way that direct pressure is applied to my clit. It's not a "When Harry Met Sally" kind of public orgasm - nobody around me has any clue when this is happening - I just experience the rhythmic throbbing and convulsing, which feels so good and leaves me dripping wet and feeling sexually satisfied. Some people doodle on paper in boring meetings, others surreptitiously use their smartphone to do Facebook under the table, but I give myself orgasms! After 45 minutes of waxing and tweezing, my pussy and ass are now completely hair-free, smooth as a baby's bottom. The swelling has started to subside, but my sensitivity is heightened and I find that I am extremely horny from the warmth, pain, and pleasure. Still sitting on the footstool in the bathroom, in front of the lighted mirror, I watch my pussy as I pour a generous amount of KY liquid onto my clit, down my cunt, and around my ass, until everything is slippery and glistening with hungry moisture. Today I'll be taking advantage of the solitude in the house to really pleasure myself right. No quickies today - I'm going all out and pulling out some toys that I rarely have time to use. I start with the anal swizzle stick - a long slender spiral-shaped toy. I coat it in lube then watch in the mirror as it easily slides into my ass until only the base is still visible. Then I grab the cyberskin dildo - a long, thick, smooth, and incredibly realistic rubbery cock. I run it under hot water to raise it to body temperature, then tease my pussy with it. I run the wet toy up and down my lips, press it against my clit, and jiggle it against the opening to my pussy before sliding the length of it deep inside me. With toys in both my ass and pussy, I feel very full, and sitting on these toys on the footstool, I'm able to rock gently back and forth to vary the sensations so it feels like thrusting. Mmmm it feels so good. Lastly, I pull out my Eroscillator - a toy that resembles an electric toothbrush. With a variety of attachments, it uses an oscillating motion to rub a woman's clit to orgasm. Totally full from the toys in my pussy and ass, I turn on the Eroscillator and place it gently against my clit. It's a very powerful toy, and it doesn't take much pressure or effort to quickly cum with it. To delay my explosion, I move the toy so it's to the left of my clit, then to the right, then to the bottom, then to the top. I occasionally press it directly against my clit, but when I feel an orgasm may be imminent, I quickly move it to a less sensitive spot to delay my gratification and let the excitement continue to build. Meanwhile, I keep rocking back and forth to thrust the toys deeper inside me, watching everything in the mirror. Suddenly and with very little warning, I begin to cum. My body instinctively tries to move away from the Eroscillator because it's become too intense, and unfortunately the orgasm passes quickly - it was just a little one. I take the sensation away from my clit and instead focus on thrusting the dildo into my horny pussy with my hand. I slide it all the way out, tickle the entrance, massage my lips, then slam it back in - several times. Ready for round two, I again sit on the dildo to hold it in place and lean forward on the stool while pressing the Eroscillator to my clit. This time, I'm going for a big "o" - I want it to be massive and intense! I know it won't take very long because I've gotten very turned on. Within seconds, my toes start to tingle as the sensation works its' way up my legs. My breathing becomes rapid and I find myself panting. When I masturbate, I often think of attractive men that I know, imagining what it would be like to have them licking my pussy and sucking my clit, or slamming their big, hard cock into my pussy or ass, or what it would be like to suck their huge cock and make them cum all over my tits. If I call out their name as the orgasm hits me, I cum even harder. An image of one of my fantasy men quickly fills my head and I whisper his name several times, even telling my imaginary friend that what he's doing feels good, keep doing it, do it just like that. I try to watch in the mirror, but it's hard to keep my eyes open as I start to cum. Suddenly my pussy starts to violently contract and I can hardly breath as I scream out his name. I'm cumming so hard but I'm going to keep pushing past this peak, to yet another, higher peak. My pussy lips are opening rhythmically with the orgasmic contractions and my feet go numb as the Big O hits. It feels like electricity pulses through my body as all of my muscles tense up and I go wild with pleasure. Liquid begins to ooze out of my pussy, then starts shooting out in squirts as cum sprays onto the floor, covering my thighs and forming a puddle around my ass. Satisfied, I flop back on the bathroom floor and lay there in pure bliss, taking a few moments to relax and catch my breath before jumping in the shower to wash away the evidence. In a couple of hours, my family will return home and ask what I did this afternoon, and I'll just smile sweetly and say, "oh I just decided to take a nap." Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll have time for one more round of fun before they get here! Video review Color Climax Sex Orgy 808 - Cock Clean Up These videos are, relatively speaking, ancient. They all date from the late 70’s early 80’s and feature horny amateurs from Europe. Color Climax have produced the hottest porn for decades and it’s a pity to see that it’s so hard to find these classics. This is the first time I watched this movie and I paused the tape as I typed on the Laptop. Please enjoy it for what it is. This tape contains 7 different scenarios of about 10 minutes each. The language is German and the pussies hairy. 1.Cock Clean Up. This starts with a buxom blonde sitting in the bath rubbing her tits as she gives a mustachioed gent a blowjob. She gets him to spray the showerhead onto her pussy and after she gets out he towel dries her and gives her bush a very fine licking. They are in a 69’er position for a while and then move to a quick doggy. The scene changes and she rides him in a reverse cowboy. Her hairy pussy looks great as he pumps his cock into her. Then we have a traditional missionary where she rubs her tits nicely before the clip ends…. what no cumshot? What’s going on here? The verdict. What crap. 2/10 2.A Randy Evening. Now this looks better. A slim, cute longhaired brunette (Slim) and her short curly haired friend (Curly) wander into the lounge room and have a chat before the Curly goes for a lie down and Slim calls up David. Curly starts to dream about David and a fuck session they have at his office. The scene is very short and includes a blowjob, cunt growl, a quick fuck and hooray…. a small cumshot. The scene ends and she gets undressed into her suspenders and bra. David shows up and Slim and him walk into the bedroom. David grabs her norks and away we go. Slim gets undressed showing us a lovely pert set of tits with glorious small nipples. Slim lies back on the bed in a white suspender belt and black stockings as a now naked David goes the growl. Curly tucks his dick and bends it down and sucks on it. Slim hops onto him in the reverse cowboy position and rides him. The two girls start kissing and Curly licks Slims cunt. They swap positions as David takes Curly in the doggy style as she licks Slim’s pussy. Then it’s the missionary position before he shoots his load all over Slim’s belly. Curly rubs it in and licks her stomach and David’s cock. The verdict. Fairly lame performance from all involved. The girls are cute but the sex was stilted. 5/10 3.Discotheque Sex The scene starts with a group of about 10 people in a bar all having a chat and a drink before the bad dancing starts and one of the girls has her arse revealed to all by her partner. Then BANG fuck any further plot development let’s just cut to the shagging. One babe is on her back on a table with one cock in her pussy and another in her mouth. She really does do a good job of sucking and pulling the cock whilst rubbing her clit with her other hand. Then we have a blonde sucking a cock before we pan to a view of the room where table girl is now giving a cock head. On the lounge a squirming girl is having her pussy licked as a bloke sucks her tits. Table girl is sucking the dick of an extremely hairy man and we pan around the room to everyone else sucking and fucking. Table girl gets reamed from behind and a blonde is madly riding a cock on the bar. One girl cops a load on her face and tits whilst another girl is shagged on the bar stools. Table girl cops a spray down her back and stool girl has her hairy pussy splashed with cum. The Verdict. Apart from the sharp cut to the fucking the girls are hot for it and there is enough variety to keep up interest. 7/10 4.Dream Lovers Polaroids. It’s what we had before digitals. This starts with a brunette taking pictures of herself sucking a cock. The image appears on the Polaroid before the image comes to life and here she is sucking a cock whilst another fellow is ripping her knickers off so that she can have her cunt licked. We cut to her on her bed rubbing her cunt with a vibrator before we cut to her with someone else. Ok now I get it she is reminiscing. She rides this gent with much enthusiasm and we then cut to the 3some. Then back again to her single toy boy. She enjoys the doggy position with her 2 friends and even the reverse cowboy with cock in mouth. She cums all over the vibe as some of her suitors cum over her. A nice touch is how the cum lands on her hand as she rubs her pussy. The verdict. She likes what she is doing and it shows. Lack of decent cumshots takes away a few points. 6/10 5.Use our Bodies. It starts with two couples in a lounge room where a cute blonde (Cutey) is stripping off to try on some new clothes. A buxom wench (Boobs) rips her top off and the boys go the grope. The girls relieve the dicks from the jeans and start sucking away. I love the way these girls really enjoy it. A tit fuck for Boobs as a shaven Cutey rides a lad in reverse cowboy. What a great view. Boobs hops on her boy and then we cut to her riding a chap whilst the other whacks his cock into her mouth. Cutey is rubbing the balls of the lad being sucked as she rubs her pussy. We then move to a bed and Cutey is having a 69 whilst Boobs rides hard. Luckily Cutey gets to have two cocks to play with and is copping it from behind whilst sucking a cock. Boobs sits on a blokes face and they form a nice group of sucking and fucking. Cutey starts sucking a cock whilst Boobs gets spooned. Boobs looks very uncomfortable until we cut to the cumshots, which again are short lived. The verdict. The couples enjoy it and it shows. A good variety of positions maintain interest but the five-second cumshot is a fucking joke. 6/10 6.Big Orgy Another two couples are getting sloshed when they begin disrobing and the two girls begin attacking a lame limp dick. A longhaired brunette (Longy) gets her large tits sucked and a shorthaired brunette (Shorty) gets her cunt licked. Limp dicks prevail here until Shorty receives a nice fucking on the lounge. Longy has her pussy licked before Shorty gets it from behind. Her arse looks like it takes a cock but the boys go limp again. Longy gets a piss weak load on her chest and then it ends. FUCK OFF. The verdict. This is lame, lame, lame. The blokes are soft cocks and the potential for great anal sex didn’t occur. 2/10 7.Housewife Pranks. Please be good. A blonde in short dress and suspenders brings a fellow into her room and has a chat before leaving to get undressed in another room. She weighs herself and he comes down for a peep. He tries it on and she lamely tries to knock him back. He gets her bra off and she lies back on the bed and masturbates for him. He strips off and goes the growl before they slip into the missionary position. Her tits jiggle nicely until she flips over for some doggy and then she rides shortly before sucking the cum from his little cock. The verdict. Big disappointment. Just lame. 2/10 This video has great novelty value and should be part of a International Porn Trust collection. Most other Color Climax videos are excellent, this volume however is lame and unless you like hairy pussies, incomprehensible plots and really bad editing give it a miss. Mine is going straight in the bin.

_All people are above the age of eighteen._ "Alice!" My grandmother shrieks, causing me to almost drop my cherry pie. I use quick werecat reflexes to catch them. "Yes?" I ask and put the pie in the oven. She grabs me and pulls me to the front. We peek around the corner. Holy mother of god! "Are they angels?" I ask her. "No they're the alphas of Oakridge." She says. I stare. They're almost identical. Black hair, golden eyes, full lips outlined by thick beards, rippling muscle, tall. One has his lip and ears pierced the other has his nipples pierced judging by the points in his shirt and his nose has a bump from being broken. "Go out there." Mamie says. "No! They'd eat me." I say and she snorts. I feel her hands on my back and I'm propelled forward. I trip over an empty cake box and land on my ass. I groan and Mamie giggles in the back. "So much for always landing on my feet." I mutter to myself. "Holy shit are you okay?" One of the employees, Jon asks me. "I'm fine." I say and he grips my a hand. Twin growls make him yelp. "Back off boy." The pierced one says and Jon scampers away. A large hand wraps around my bicep and pulls me up gently. "Are you alright?" A deep voice asks and I gulp as I look up. Pierced guy is staring at me. "Uh, yeah." I mumble quietly. "Good. I'm Ace and this is my twin brother Archer." The pierced on says. I nod and unconsciously lick my lips as he talks. "You alright sweetheart?" He teases and I blush crimson. "I'm Alice." I say and he smiles. "Pretty name for a pretty lady." He says. I blush again and he chuckles. Archer comes over and I feel weak in the knees. They're gorgeous and I want to eat them. "Alice!" Mamie yells and I skid away. She's pulling my pie out of the oven and panting. I take it from her gently and place it on the counter. She groans and sits down. I giggle when she gives me thumbs up. I thought so too. Ace P.O.V "Damn." I mutter as I watch the curvy little redhead named Alice scatter to the kitchen. Oh yes. "I want her." Archer growls and presses into my side. His hard cock rubs my thigh and I shiver. "Me too." I agree and he rumbles. "What can I get you boys?" Alice asks as she walks back out. God she's fucking sexy. Long thick dark red hair, wide green eyes, full red lips, a short curvy body, thick thighs, wide hips, small waist, plush ass and massive tits. "I'll ha...." Archer starts but the bells above the door clink. We turn and stare. Another beautiful woman. Short dark hair, hazel eyes, same thick short body. "Hey baby." She says and kisses Alice right on the mouth. My jaw drops and I'm pretty sure Archer's did to. The two girls are making out in the middle of the bakery. I close my mouth quickly. "She's a lesbian." Archer says. "Yeah." I agree. Jesus Christ. The dark haired girl is sucking on Alice's lips. Jesus. I'm rock hard. "You like that don't you?" Archer asks huskily and his lip touches my ear. We may be brothers but damn. I shift and he chuckles. "I've missed you so muck little sister." The dark one says and my jaw drops once again. "Well damn." Archer says. "Sisters?" I ask. Alice giggles. "Cats are very affectionate, especially to family and people we like. You're lucky my little sister didn't jump you're bones." The dark on says as she looks over us. Alice keeps giggling. "Allie, I think you're talking about yourself. Alec Samuels." An older man says and shakes our hands. "Daddy." Alice says and Alec plants a kiss on her lips. I growl and Archer stiffens. Allie laughs. "I don't think they like when you do that Alec." She says. "I'm not allowed to kiss my sub anymore?" He asks and I growl again. He's pissing me off. "Daddy." Alice scowls and Alec looks at her lustfully. I snarl nod lunge but Archer grabs my arm. "Ooh fight." Allie says and I feel myself starting to shift. My face changes first then the rest of me follows suit. Alec shifts into a lion as big as me and roars. I howl and the challenge begins. Alec lunges first and I move quickly. My teeth sink into his side and he growls. I shake my head angrily and I hear Archer rumble, the smell of female arousal had me and Alec stopping and turning to the girls. Alice is blushing and Allie is snickering. Alice is turned on. Archer is sporting a major hardy. I rumble in my chest and rub against it. He stiffens and I nudge him again. He groans and closes his eyes. Haha. Alec is sniffing Alice's pussy and I growl. My wolf is not happy. I tackle him and he roars. My teeth sink into his neck and he goes limp. His breathing deepens and his eyes close. I go around and push Alice to her hands and knees. I shift and Allie gasps. My cock is pierced and has them from the head to my balls top and bottom. Archer rumbles and Alice shivers. I rip her skirt and panties. Her bare pussy is glistening and swollen. She looks into my eyes and they look like green cat eyes. She chuffs and arches her back. I slam into her and she cries out from the pain and pleasure. The barbells vibrate when I turn them on. Archer rumbles again and Allie is wiggling. I gesture to her with my head and point to Alice's pussy. She crawls under her sister and attacks her pussy. "Fuck!" She screams and the older woman from the kitchen walks out. She gasps and her eyes glaze over. She's not very old probably around 48. Archer rumbles and tackles her. He does exactly what I did, rips her skirt and panties and slams into her. She mewls and pushes against him. My balls tighten up and I cum into Alice's pussy and into Allie's mouth. Archer isn't far behind. I quickly fuck Allie and we leave. Scarlett returned to uni for her final year, pleased to discover her new flatmates were all around her age. They quickly became firm friends and spent their free time together going out drinking, shopping, to the beach, playing games, watching films. It was the most comfortable she had felt in her whole time away. Shane wasn't great at keeping in contact at the best of times but he managed to send her a text before he left for New Zealand and a few emails over the next 6 weeks about what he and his friend were doing on their travels. When he got home from his trip, he still wasn't replying to her very often. Scarlett was careful to concentrate on her studies and spend time with her friends and not bombard Shane with text messages. Every time she phoned him, he was out with work colleagues or busy doing something or it was just a brief conversation where he didn't really know what to say to her. Scarlett felt a bit hurt that he wasn't more interested and his support sounded half- hearted, moreover he skimmed over details of what he'd been up to. Scarlett had struck up a friendship with her flatmate Dominic, they were the same age, both in their final year, liked the same music and had the same sense of humour. Scarlett had found him attractive as soon as they'd met and he looked great in a pair of Levi's. Early on in the semester, Scarlett had arrived home for lunch to find Dom on his own, decorating the bedroom doors. He asked her to help him decorate the other's doors with magazine cuttings and drawings about their interests and courses. They had lunch together and chatted. Dom asked a lot about Scarlett's relationship and she confided in him that she wasn't sure it was going to last, especially now it was long- distance and Shane seemed to have changed how he felt and behaved towards her recently but she didn't want to have such a serious conversation with him over the phone, having not seen each other for nearly 2 months so she was planning to wait until she went home for Reading Week the following month. Dom told her, in no uncertain terms, that he thought it was a pity she wasn't single and that if Shane was treating her disrespectfully then maybe he only deserved a phone call. Scarlett told Dom she was flattered, she really liked him and was happy to know he liked her too but she would rather wait until she'd had a chance to speak to Shane in person. Dom respectfully agreed and they decided not to talk to any of the other flatmates about it. The next weekend the flatmates embarked on a night out they would talk about for years afterwards, long after they graduated and their lives moved on. They drank Jaegermeister and Red Bull, hogged the jukebox, danced on the table until the bar man told them off then got cheesy chips on the way home, walking in the pouring rain. Dom and Scarlett kicked massive puddles at each other and at one point, Scarlett leaned down to pick up her flatmate's pizza which had fallen in a puddle and Dom took the chance to dunk Scarlett's face into the puddle. They were drenched. They all agreed they'd have showers when they got home then meet in the kitchen to eat their food and drink tea. They were so drunk that once they got home all 5 of them got into Dom's shower together, fully dressed. They slipped and fell around the floor, flooded the bathroom and laughed. After heading back to their own rooms, showering and putting on warm clothes they gathered in the kitchen, ate their food and drank vodka. Late into the night Scarlett decided to go to her room and phone Shane, intent on leaving him a Voicemail message except he answered the phone. "Hello? Is everything alright Scarlett?" Shane asked, concerned. "Oh! Yes! I wasn't expecting you to answer, I was hoping to leave you a voicemail... why are you awake at this time? it's the middle of the night!" she asked, puzzled. Shane laughed. "I might ask you the same thing but from the sounds of it, you've been drinking." he said in a cute tone. Scarlett giggled "Eh, yes! We've been out tonight and I only spent £20. But you never answered why YOU'RE awake" she said. "Oh, we met our targets this quarter so the company paid for my floor to go out for dinner then my manager invited us all back to her house for drinks and we're still here" he said. "Oh very nice, that sounds fun. Have you had a good night?" asked Scarlett "Yes, The food wasn't amazing but it was good fun. The team leads made a mock awards ceremony since it was formal dress. I wore my kilt and I got "Best Dressed" he chuckled. "How was your night, babe?" "Yes, so much fun. I drank pints of Jaeger and Red Bull and walked home in the rain then got into Dom's shower and..." she started laughing "Stop, Scarlett. I don't want to know what happened." Shane said firmly, interrupting her. "Whaaaat?" giggled Scarlett "I don't want to know what happened when you got into some bloke's shower." he sighed heavily and she could tell he was irritated. "No, wait. We were ALL in the shower together. It wasn't just me. We got drenched in the rain so we all got into Dom's shower together" she explained, badly. Shane was silent for a moment before sighing again "Look, I'm gonna go" he said, flatly. "Why, Shane? Don't go...I was just... It was just fun, we were having a laugh. We were all fully dressed! No one got naked, we slipped and fell on the floor. It was just silly. And now the way you're reacting is making me feel stupid. I just wanted to phone and tell you I miss you..." Scarlett said, her tone getting more glum. "I miss you too, babe. But you've got to get on with your studies, not long to go." he said "Will you stay on and chat with me, even though I'm a drunken embarrassment?" she asked. "You're not a drunken embarrassment! Of course I'll talk to you, I'm not going anywhere" he replied "Ok, I didn't mean to sound like I'm getting into all sorts of situations cos I'm not. We've hardly talked much since you got back from New Zealand." Scarlett said, quietly. "No, I know, babe. I know you're working away at your course. I'm sorry I haven't really been in touch, I don't know what you're up to and I don't want to interrupt. I actually really miss you, it's not the same without you at home. Kinda lonely." he said, softly. "We should speak more then!" Scarlett suggested, cheerily. "Well, my strategy had been trying to not feel worse by contacting you all the time plus I need to top up my phone..." he said. "Oh. Ok. If that's what you prefer. I'll be home in a couple of weeks, do you fancy going out for food? There's a nice place near mine" she asked, convinced again she needed to see him in person to sort things either way. "Yeah, sure. Text me the name of it and I'll book a table." he said, sounding bored. "Right, I will. I'm going to go to bed now. Text me when you get home" Scarlett said, even though she wasn't tired. Two weeks later Scarlett was home and had arranged with Shane when they were going to have dinner. She texted him to ask what time the table was booked for the following evening. "Haven't got round to booking it yet, sorry babe. Will phone on my lunch break" he replied. Scarlett sighed and replied to tell him not to worry about it. She phoned the restaurant and booked the table herself then texted him the time. The next night Scarlett dressed in smart jeans, high heel boots and a smart jumper and met Shane at the train station. He smiled and kissed her, squeezing her into a hug. He was very off hand but warmed up on the walk to the restaurant, holding her hand. At the restaurant Scarlett gave her name, Shane turned to her "You booked it under your name?" he asked, sharply. "I'm the one whose name it should be under." "Well if you wanted it under your name then you should've fucking booked it" replied Scarlett under her breath as they waited to be seated. Shane nodded, embarrassed and pissed off. The atmosphere was strained and Scarlett figured out what she'd noticed happen before - Shane looks awkward and feels uncomfortable when he's in an environment he doesn't usually go to. He asked the waitress a question about a menu item and Scarlett answered as she and the waitress laughed. Shane looked furious. Dinner was almost painful. Afterwards Scarlett suggested they go for a drink, Shane was much happier going to the pub. At the pub, Scarlett tried to articulate how she'd been feeling in their time apart. Shane interjected "Ok, so, do you want to say it or shall I?" Scarlett looked at him and laughed nervously, shrugging and signalling for him to talk. "We need to take a break. Or just break it off but if we say we'll take a break for a while, until you've finished your degree. It's only a few more months." Shane said. Scarlett nodded. They finished their drinks and Shane suggested going for a walk along the shore. It was a dark, cold night in November but secretly Scarlett didn't want to leave him just yet. He held her hand as they walked, Scarlett's mind raced and she felt guilty. She knew Dom was back at uni and waiting to hear news from her but she still had strong feelings for Shane despite it not feeling right. But as they walked, Shane began to ask if she really had to go back to uni. Scarlett was puzzled. "What are you saying?" she asked. "You don't have to go back to uni, you could stay here and we could move in together." Shane said, brashly Scarlett was confused and angry. "Shane, I've got less than 6 months left, I've worked so hard for 4 years for this and it's cost thousands of pounds. I can't believe you're asking if I have go back!" she stopped walking, let go of his hand and looked at him. "I'm just saying you don't have to. I mean you're going you have to get a job when you come home and you're not going to get one with your degree right away anyway, you may as well get a head start." he shrugged. "What?! Are you serious? Earlier we agreed to break up and now you're asking me to throw away something I've worked hard for and feel very proud of at the very last minute to move in to your hovel of a room with you! I'm actually offended!" she sputtered in disbelief. "It's just an idea, Scarlett. No need to get carried away and be rude about where I live!" Shane tutted, reaching for her hand again. She pulled her hand away "I think it's time to go home" she said, turning and walking to the train station. They walked in silence. At the train station Scarlett called for a lift and they sat in the waiting area, she didn't want to wait until his train left. "It was just a suggestion you know, about you not going back to uni." Shane said. "No, Shane. It's a way to disrespect and sabotage me and I don't appreciate when you play these weird games. We agreed to call it quits because it's not working being so far away from each other and you don't seem to want to stay in contact to try and make it work. My studies are too important to me to let you talk me into giving it all up only for you to change your mind next week." she said, firmly. Her phone beeped "My lift is here. Take care" she said, standing up and walking to the door. "Scarlett, wait, at least let me say goodbye!" he called after her, walking towards her and wrapping her in a hug, kissing her. Scarlett stood still and didn't hug or kiss him back. He let go and she turned away. "Bye" Scarlett said, as she walked out. She knew it was the right decision but she was upset at how badly it had all turned out. She felt quite heartbroken. Two days later Scarlett returned to uni, arriving in the evening. Her flatmates were glad to see her but Dom was reserved, saying he had work to finish for the following day. The next day she went for lunch with her two female flatmates to catch up. They were filling Scarlett in on what had been going on, when Bea grew sheepish and half whispered "And me and Dom hooked up!" They both looked at Scarlett for her reaction. "What? I've only been away for a week!" Scarlett tried to disguise her shock. "How did that happen?" she asked. "We were drunk watching a film and he asked if I would ever do a FWB type thing but I told him I wouldn't. He asked if I was interested in him but I thought he liked YOU so I asked him and he said but you had a boyfriend" she giggled. "Why did you think he was interested in me?" asked Scarlett, trying to sound puzzled. "Come on! He's always talking to you, you always laugh at these weird jokes between you and he always hugs you so he can feel your tits!" Bea laughed. "How have you not noticed?" Scarlett shrugged and felt so disappointed. Even though she didn't feel right with the idea of starting something with Dom soon after breaking up with Shane, she felt very foolish and like she was the worst judge of character. Later on at the flat she made excuses not to sit with the others and watch TV, instead she went to her room and cried. She went outside to smoke and then went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Dom came in while she was waiting for the kettle to boil, she didn't look at him. "Hi Scarlett." Dom said, timidly. "You alright? Ehmm...I thought I should let you know..." "That you fucked Bea? I know, she told me." Scarlett interrupted, not looking at him. "Oh. Right." Dom cleared his throat. "I guess, I mean, me and Bea we're not a thing so..." he trailed off. Scarlett turned round to see him standing awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders pulled up towards his ears. "So you're still hoping you've got a chance with me? Pity that, isn't it?" she said coldly. Her neighbour came into the kitchen and asked Scarlett about Shane "I ended it with him last week, seems like guys say one thing to me and then go and do something completely different." she replied, matter-of- factly, looking at Dom who was cringing. Scarlett excused herself and went to her room, she felt dreadful. She cried until her throat and eyes hurt. Her mind raced and she was overwhelmed by so many different emotions, mainly that she couldn't tell anyone what was happening and how she was feeling. She couldn't help wishing she could go back to last week and leave everything as it was. She had to adjust quickly to squashing her feelings and getting on with her studies. It was only 4 weeks until her first exams and then she would go home for Christmas.

**Copyright** © _2019 - This is an original work by Zeb Carter and is protected under copyright by U.S. copyright law. It is only submitted at Literotica.Com and any submission to any other site has not been authorized by the Author._ **Author's Note** : This story is a little over the top. I did enjoy writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it. There is no sex, but you gathered that from the category where it is published. **Call of the Dove** **Chapter 1** _"Just like the white winged dove Sings a song, sounds like she's singing Ooo, ooo, ooo"_ That was the song. It was blaring from the radio speakers. Stevie Nicks, Edge of Seventeen. It went well with the roaring growl of the car's engine as John sped down the highway. Sped. John was doing one-thirty-five. That's miles per hour. One hundred thirty-five miles per hour. The telephone poles flashed by on the right side of the car. The seams in the highway were one continuous thump. He was in a hurry. She had called, almost hysterical. Someone was in the house with her. They were banging around downstairs. John called the police, but he was closer than any county deputy. She sounded frantic as he had to hang up. She was going to lock herself in the bedroom. His turn was quickly approaching. He slowed. Not quite enough, fortunately, the skid wasn't all that bad. John recovered nicely and accelerated down the road. Two more miles. Just two more mile to go. The car roared its anguish into the night. John was lucky the roads were as smooth as they were. Railroad tracks loomed in the distance. John slowed hard again. Ninety-five. The car was air born as it shot over the tracks. It hit the ground hard on the other side. John pressed the accelerator to the floor. The engine bellowed its mating call into the surrounding darkness. One twenty, the speedometer would go no higher. There was smoke pouring from the back of the car as it raced down the road. "Come on girl you can do it. Please?" John cried into the night. One mile. Just one more mile. Five thousand feet, just a measly five thousand feet. He could see the outside lights of their house shining brightly. The car's engine was starting to make some unpleasant noises. "Come on baby. Just a little farther," he whispered trying to coax more speed from his baby. The car didn't start to sputter until John had to lift off the gas. He couldn't take the curve up ahead at full throttle. John could now see their driveway. He could almost reach out and touch the damn thing. When he tromped on the gas again, the car sputtered even more. It slowed drastically. Twenty miles per hour and dropping. John could see the glow of the engine out his side window. The car was on fire, as it slowed the flames shot out of the scoop on the hood. He was just one hundred feet shy of their drive. John opened the door and stepped out of the slowly rolling car. The car continued slowly down the road as he ran up the driveway to the house. It was a hundred yards up to the house. The explosion shocked him, almost knocking him to the ground. She had been a good car, a great car, lovingly restored from a rusty old junker. John would miss her. Millie. His Millie was in trouble, he had to get to her. John was huffing. He was puffing. He was on the verge of passing out when he reached the back door. His knees were on the verge of giving out on him. Then John could hear screams from inside. His wife's screams. Even though his heart was pounding in his chest, he entered as quietly as he could, gulping air into his oxygen-starved lungs. John paused in the dining room for his pistol, which he grabbed out of the gun safe. Clip full, round in the chamber. His Millie screamed again, a shrillness edging her voice. John heard low, gruff voices shouting back. More than one of them. He could hear the sirens of the county cops. So could the intruders. They didn't seem to be in any rush. Climbing the stairs as quietly as he could, John gripped the pistol tightly with both hands, muzzle pointing up, ready to point and shoot. Peeking over the top stair in the flight, he saw them. Three men. They were scrambling around the bed trying to get Millie to not only shut up but to drag her down off the bed. She stood there, legs spread for balance, a grim look on her lovely face, swinging an aluminum baseball bat. Two of the men already had bloody noses. When Millie connected with one of them again, John shot another in the leg. Then another. The third stepped out of his line of fire as his pals fell to the floor. The door slammed shut. "Millie down," John yelled stepping up into the hallway. "Down," she shouted back. He ran up the hall. He hit the door at full speed. The door was ripped from its hinges as it fell into the room. John was lying on his side atop the door. Gun pointed at the third man. The man just stood there staring at him. He had the bat raised above his head. John squeezed the trigger and shot him point blank in the chest. One of the others was suddenly on top of John, punching, and grabbing and biting. He was trying to get the gun. Then the guy just fell to John's side unconscious. Millie stood over both of them, bat in hand, looking down at her husband. The third guy was moaning loudly across the room. John had caught him in the knee almost taking the lower leg clean off. John climbed to his feet. Millie flowed into his arms. Only then did she start crying. John held her tight as feet pounded up the stairs. Neil Mason, the sheriff's deputy who patrolled the area, stepped through the bedroom door. Gun at the ready he looked the situation over. When he saw Millie and John were all right he lowered his pistol and holstered it. Shaking his head he started to handcuff one of the three men. "This guy's still alive. You must be slipping John." "He rushed me," John replied still holding Millie. "These two will be limping for the rest of their lives," Neil said. Two more deputies came rushing in. They checked at the door. Then they checked on the other men, while Neil radioed his dispatcher. "I'll need your gun," Neil said once he was off the radio. "Sure, no problem," John replied removing the clip, ejected the round in the chamber and handed the gun, clip and round to Neil. "I'll see you get this back after the arraignment." "Thanks, Neil." "Now, take Millie downstairs. Go sit in the kitchen. I'll be down to talk to you in a little while. Let EMS in when they get here." "Sure thing Neil." John led a trembling Millie down the hall to the stairs. They descended to the living room. They turned right and went down the hall to the kitchen. John stopped in the dining room to lock the gun cabinet while Millie went on ahead to make coffee. It would be hours before they would be able to go to bed. When John entered the kitchen, Millie grabbed him and hugged him hard. John hugged her back gently. "Are you hungry?" she asked meekly. "No, no, not right now. I'm just so glad you're okay." "Me too. You got here quick. How's Betsy?" "Toast." "Oh...I'm so..." "Don't be, it had to be. I would do it again for you." "I know. Thank you." John hugged her a little tighter. She sighed. "I wish we were alone..." "Me too. God, I love you." "I love you too. I love you so much..." "I know." They stood there for what seemed like hours, lost in their own little world, enjoying the closeness of each other, but was in reality only a few minutes. Neil coughing broke their spell. John stepped back from Millie. She turned toward Neil. "Coffee?" she asked. "Yes, please and thank you. You didn't have too." "Neil, not only are you a friend, you are a hero to many around these parts." "Millie, stop, you'll have me blushing and give me a swelled head." Millie just giggled at his words. She poured the blushing Neil a cup of coffee, strong, black. Then she sat at the table. Neil sat across from her. There was a knock at the door. John opened it. The lock would need replacing, the casing around the lock would need to be patched. It was EMS. John stepped aside letting them enter. "Upstairs, back bedroom," he told them. "Tony is up there, he'll fill you in," Neil told them as they tromped through the kitchen. "Now, tell me what happened, Millie." "I had just locked up, I was tired. I turned off the downstairs lights. When I was upstairs in the bedroom, I heard someone smash in the back door. I closed the bedroom door as quietly as I could. I locked it. I called John. They broke the bedroom door in. I grabbed John's bat. I climbed into the middle of the bed and started swinging. John was here in about five minutes. He started shooting. He told me to get down. He crashed through the door and shot the last man." "Great. Have you ever seen these men before?" "No." "John?" "No." "Millie, did they hurt you?" "The one John shot in the chest punched me in the stomach." "The others?" "I didn't give them a chance." "John, you know there will be an inquiry?" "I know. And you know I was justified. Breaking and entering, assault, attempted rape." "Those will be the charges. Yet..." "They'll say she invited them in. Well, that back door didn't get broke by itself." "I know, I know. The evidence is against them and with Millie's and your statements they will be going away for a long time." "Do you know who they are?" "No, but I suspect they are members of the cartel." "Fucking government," John shouted. "Calm down John," Millie said softly. "Millie...," he said loudly. "I'm sorry baby," he said more softly and hung his head. They all knew the problem. The Mexican drug cartel wars were spilling over into the US. Arizona is on the front lines. Millie and John's place was only twenty miles from the border. The government had started that damn fence back in '07 but never quite finished it. Illegals were free to come and go as they pleased since the budget cuts reduced the border patrol. And here were Millie and John paying the consequences. John had been one of those border patrol agents. He was placed on furlough just last month along with seven other agents. Jimmy, his supervisor, told him it should only be a couple of weeks. He was now in the fifth week of his furlough. John was lucky, his dad owned the local feed store and hired him right away. He at least had an income. There were five other agents who didn't. The county tried to help, but money was tight. Two were hired by the county sheriff's department. They lived and worked further north in the county. Neil and the rest of the deputies, were there taking photos, making sketches and making sure they dotted the eyes and crossed the tees. They left about midnight. John was jury-rigging the back door when his dad showed up. "I got that son," he said handing John a new lockset for the door. How he knew John never found out. "Thanks, dad. Millie's in the living room resting. There's coffee on the counter." "Thanks, son." John's dad walked into the living room to see how Millie was. He was back in seconds. "She's asleep," he whispered. John nodded as his dad poured himself a cup of coffee. John had the lockset in the door in minutes. It was a token obstacle in the least. It would slow them down a little, but not much. The jam was torn out where the deadbolt ripped through the wood. Tomorrow he would replace it with a steal jam. Then John heard her. A white-winged dove, singing outside. He frowned. Stevie Nicks was still echoing in his head from his desperate drive home. Stepping over to the living room entrance John peeked in at Millie. He smiled as he looked in on her. She was lying down on the couch. Her eyes were closed. She was asleep. It was a restless sleep. She jerked. Then she moaned. Then she shifted a little and settled down. "Well son, I'm glad to see Millie is okay." "Thanks for coming over dad." "You bet. See you tomorrow?" "I don't know. Probably not until late. My car is toast. Blew up the engine getting here." "No problem. Get some sleep and comfort that wonderful lady you have there. Too bad about your car. She was a good one." John smiled. His Dad had been smitten with Millie from the first time he met her ten years ago. "I will dad. Good night." "G'night son." He was out the door and in his truck quickly. John just stood there watching Dad's headlights back down the drive. He was surprised when another set pulled in and drove up the drive. Now, what and who? Then John could make out the county fire marshal's car, Mike Hastings. He guessed this would be about his car down the road a piece. John opened the door and stepped out. He waited for Mike to come to him. Mike waved as he climbed out of his car. He didn't say a word until he was on the porch with John. "Sorry to hear about what happened. Is Millie okay?" "She's fine. Gave more than she received. I guess you're here about my car." "Yes. I'm afraid it's totaled. By the time we got here, it was fully engulfed." "I know, it was burning when I jumped out. It went down the road a ways and exploded." "Okay, that explains a lot. I called Bruno, he's going to haul it to his boneyard in Healy in the morning." "Fine." "That was a great car." "It was, but my wife is more important..." "Didn't mean to imply. I would have done the same thing." "No problem Mike." "Well, I just thought I'd stop by and tell you and find out how Millie is." "She's well and thanks, Mike." "No problem buddy." Mike turned and went back to his car. He pulled out of the drive and was gone. John stood there looking up into the sky. The stars were out, sprinkled across the midnight black sky. The moon shone brightly, lighting the drive in front of him. He took a deep breath of the cool night air. The dove gave its cry again. Turning, John went back into the house. He stopped at the entrance to the living room. He watched Millie as she slept. John was almost tempted to let her sleep. He knew she would want him to wake her. Quietly, he crept to the couch. Standing there John watched her as she slept. She was frowning, eyes twitching under her lids. Kneeling down beside the couch, John gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Her eyes flew open and she inhaled deeply. "Oh god," she croaked. "I'm sorry, baby. Everyone has gone. It's time to go upstairs..." "No, not upstairs. Not tonight. In the back bedroom please." "Of course," he said nodding as he scooped her up in his arms. "I love you," she whispered. John walked to the back bedroom, carrying his wife easily. Gently, oh so gently, he set her on her feet. Pulling her close, he kissed her lips. She sighed. Her arms snaked their way around his neck, hands messing his hair. She pushed him away. She undressed and crawled into bed. John undressed and followed her. They cuddled under the covers. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** John and Millie were laying in bed, gazing into each other's eyes. They were enjoying the afterglow of their intimate coupling. She smiled at John. "My sister Lori and Steve are coming out for a couple of weeks," she told John. "Really? I'll be glad to see Steve again. Too bad your sister Janice and her husband Don won't be here." "I could call them. Mom and Dad too. It might be nice to have them all here at the same time," she said a small shiver running up her body. "It might at that. Call them in the morning." "I will," she replied snuggling closer. "I love you." "I love you. Sweet dreams my love." "Thank you. Good night dear." **Chapter 2** The next afternoon John had Millie drive him to work in her minivan. They were down to one car now. Millie came inside with him to say hello to Dad. Dad was all smiles when he saw her and hugged her tightly. "I'm so glad you're al'right," Dad told her. "Thank you, Dad," she replied. "So what time should I pick you up?" she turned asking John. "You won't have to. Dad, I'm going to borrow the companies '66 pickup. If that's okay with you, Dad?" "Sure, but take the new one..." "No you'll need that one if you have a delivery while I'm gone," John told him. "You're right, sure grab the keys off the panel. Are you going someplace? "Thanks, Dad. No, not today. Tomorrow probably. Saturday for sure." "Anything you need, you let me know. I'm going to miss that car. Had tons of fun building it with you." "I know. I had fun too." "Okay, I'm going to go. I should have been at the office four hours ago," Millie said. "You take care, young lady," Dad called after her. "I will Dad. I love you, John Sterling," she yelled as she opened the minivan's door. John watched as she drove off, smiling to himself. He thought himself so lucky to have found his Millie. Work, the rest of that day was slow. There were only four small deliveries and one big one. The next day, Friday, was much busier. Sixteen small deliveries, four big ones, and one huge one. The last one of the day was the huge one. They needed both trucks to make it. It was well into the night before John finally got home. Millie greeted him at the door. She was happy to see him. "God I missed you," she told him hugging him tightly. "I missed you too." John hugged her back, picked her up and stepped inside the house. Millie reached out and swung the door shut. Dinner was on the table. John kissed his wife hello. "So when is everyone coming?" John asked as they ate. "Well, Lori and Steve will be here tomorrow morning. Janice and Don will be here Sunday afternoon. He was able to get leave. Thirty days. Mom and Dad will be here Monday morning." "Where are they all going to sleep?" John asked. "Mom and Dad will stay at the motel in town. You know how my Dad is. Has to have a bathroom to himself in the morning. They will be renting a car while they're here." "Ah, then we have just enough beds for everyone else." "We do. I'm so happy we are all getting back together." "Me too. I've missed your sisters." "You mean you've missed their husbands?" Millie teased. "Yeah, them too," John told her with a straight face. "But your sisters are by far, better looking than their husbands," John said winking at her. "I thought we agreed..." "We did and I will abide by that agreement. I assure you." "As will I," Millie agreed. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** The next morning Millie and John were at the airport waiting by the baggage claim for Lori and Steve. The two sisters squealed and jumped around hugging each other when Lori and Steve entered baggage claim. John and Steve smiled, shook hands and watched their wives act like schoolgirls. Then Lori turned her attention to John, while Millie said hello to Steve. The two couples hugged each other tightly. Then John and Steve grabbed the bags off the carousel. The walk to the minivan was short. Small airport. "So, how many plane changes?" John asked Steve as they walked. "Two. We've been up since four this morning. I'm beat." "Too beat to go looking at junk cars?" "So you really did total your car?" "I did." "And now you're going to replace her?" "I am. So you want to come?" "You bet. You know how long it's been since I've worked on a car?" "Since we finished Betsy?" "Right you are." "Did I hear you right, John Sterling?" "You did Millie." "When were you going to discuss it with me?" "Right now seems like a good time." They were at the car, John and Steve loaded the bags in the back, while Millie and Lori climbed in the middle row of seats. The men got in and John drove off. "Well?" Millie said from the backseat. "Are you against it?" John asked. "No, you know I'm not. It's just... bring back a good looking car." "I will sweetheart. I will." John assured her. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** Two hours later, after an early lunch, Steve and John were driving down the road on their way to Healy and Bruno's junkyard. When they were about a mile from the boneyard, a sheriff's deputy lit them up. Frowning, John pulled over to the side of the road, the truck's tires crunching on the gravel. The squad car rolled up behind him. "This happen often?" Steve asked. "That's the Sheriff, Bill Hudson. He probably just wants to know how Millie is." "Ah, everyone loves Millie, right?" Steve asked chuckling. He knew how John felt. Wherever his Lori went, the men and some women, fell in love with her. Not because she was that good looking, she was good looking, though, but there was something about her, something Steve knew about. Something special that most men and some women sensed about her. All three sisters had whatever it was as did their mother. "Right." Bill was at the side of the car. John rolled down the window of the old pickup truck. "Afternoon, John. I just stopped you, so I could ask how Millie is doing." "She's fine Bill, just fine, thanks for asking." "I'm glad to hear she's okay. Sorry to hear about your car too. You on your way to Bruno's to have a last look?" "Thanks. Yep, one last look before the crusher takes her to her last resting place," John said. Steve chuckled softly. John elbowed him in the ribs. "Well, you take care and give my best to Millie." "I will Bill and thanks again." John rolled up the window and put the truck in gear. He slowly pulled away from the squad car. A mile down the road he pulled into Bruno's junkyard. There, in the only open space, by the office trailer, was what was left of John's car. "Holy shit, you did a number on her," Steve croaked. "I did. She was a great car while she lasted." John sighed as he climbed out of the pickup truck. Steve was out and over by the burnt out hulk that had been John's 1957 Chevy two-door sedan. He stood, looking over the damage. Bruno came out of the office to stand beside John. "First, how is Millie?" "She is well. Thank you." "Second, I'm so sorry about your car. She was a wonderful car." "She was, thanks. What do I owe you for the tow?" "Nothing my friend. The parts from the wreck will cover the bill with some left over." "Well, then, let's get down to business." "In the market for a new fixer-upper?" "I am. What do you have on the lot that you have plenty of parts for in the boneyard?" "Well, I think I have something right up your alley. Come with me, I'll show you." "Fine lead the way. Steve you coming?" John shouted the last to Steve as he surveyed the wreck. "You bet," Steve said tearing his eyes away from the blackened hulk. He trotted to catch up to John and Bruno. Bruno took them around behind the trailer that also served as the office. Behind it was a car. Not just any car. A 1966 Chevy Nova II. It had been white but was now a patchwork of white paint and gray primer. John stopped dead in his tracks when he first caught sight of the car. Then continued, only missing a step on Bruno. "I don't know Bruno..." "I'll let you have it cheap if you promise to fix it up. It would go real good with your pickup." "What's cheap?" "Five hundred. I'll even throw in a four banger, drive shaft, and nine bolt diff, for free." "Why, is it missing those things?" "No, but you don't want to stick with that Powerglide do you?" "No. What size engine?" "Two-eighty-three." "I don't know..." "I have an Edelbrock manifold for that engine. Hook up a blower with a big four barrel and you can get five hundred horse out of it easy." "All that for five. What about cartage to my place?" "You have enough left on the '57 to pay for that." "You got a deal," John said. "Sweet," Steve whispered as he assessed the car before them. "When can you drop it off?" John asked. "Later this afternoon, if you're going to be home." "I'll be there," John said. "Let's go to the office to do the paperwork," Bruno said turning and climbing the back stairs to the office. **Chapter 3** Steve and John were sitting on the porch talking and gazing out over the landscape when Bruno backed up the driveway with the '66. When the girls heard the beep, beep, beep of the truck backing up, they poured out of the house to see what was going on. "Oh my god. It's beautiful," Millie shouted. "She is, isn't she?" John replied placing an arm around her waist and pulling her to him. "How long?" Millie asked. "A week or so." "That soon?" "With the help, we'll have..." "Ah, that's why you wanted them all here?" "I did," John told her chuckling, hugging her to him. Bruno dropped the car with the extras inside. John paid him. Steve, Lori, and Millie were going over the '66 as John watched Bruno turn out of the driveway. Turning he rushed to the car. "Let's get it in the garage," he said. Millie went to the back door and pressed a button just inside the door. The large door of the garage rumbled up its tracks in the big building behind the house. It wasn't your typical garage. It was more of a service building. It had four bays inside, two with lifts. Complete work benches along both long walls. The back held an enclosed office. It had come with the house when Millie and John had bought it. It was one of the reasons John elected to buy this one. "Lori, in the car, you steer. Steve," John said. Both men pushed and the car started to roll forward. "In the second bay on the left, Lori," John yelled. "Got it," Lori answered. Mille was there beside John, pushing for all she was worth. They would need a little speed to get it in the bay. "Millie, guide her," John said. Millie rushed ahead to guide her sister into the bay. Steve and John let up on their pushing as the car lifted over the first bump of the wheel stop. Lori hit the brakes when Millie signaled her. Just as they finished, John's mom pulled into the drive. Millie rushed to the car to say hello. "I see you're all right, they didn't hurt you?" "No, I'm fine Mom. Thank you for asking." The two women hugged tightly. Then stepping back Millie indicated for her sister to step over. "Doris, this is my sister Lori and her husband Steve." "Oh, so glad to meet you, finally." Doris gathered Lori into her arms and hugged her. As she released her, Doris shook hands with Steve. Smiling he brought Doris' hand to his lips. John's mom giggled as Steve released her hand. "So, I see you have gotten another car to fix up?" Doris asked. "Yes, Mom." "I'm going to miss the other one. She was such a pretty car." "She was, but this one will be better. It's the same year as the pickup truck," John told her. "You know I don't know anything about cars. Girls, give me a hand, I have some food in the backseat. I made a lasagna, a pot roast and baked some cookies." "Sure Mom," Millie replied, dragging Lori over to the back door of the car. The women carried the food in the house. John and Steve went into the garage and started to tear the car down. They were going to do a body off restoration. Well, as much of the body they could get off. The '66 was a car that utilized uni-body construction. That meant that the frame of the car utilized the main body of the car as part of the frame structure. For the next two hours, they worked. When they were done, the doors were off, along with the hood, trunk deck and they had pulled some of the interior out. The seats would be reupholstered. The headliner would be replaced and the door covers recovered. "John, Steve, dinners ready," Lori called out from the back porch. John and Steve cleaned up for dinner in the garage bathroom, then headed inside. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** After dinner, John's Dad and Mom showed up. Everyone sat or stood around the large kitchen talking and drinking. John's Mom drank club soda she was driving. Steve and John took Dad out to the garage to show him the car. He had heard about it from his wife but wanted to see for himself. "This will be a great car. I'll be over in the morning to help," he said walking around the stripped down hulk. "I'm glad, I loved building the last one with you," John told his father. "Me too," his dad said. "Well, I'll be over early, so I better get going. I'm not as young as I was the last time. I'm going to need a lot of sleep to keep up with you young guys." "Dad, you don't have to work that hard, I'm going to have all kinds of help. My other brother in law will be here tomorrow with his wife Janice, Millie's younger sister. Then Millie's Mom and Dad will be here on Monday. The girls can help as well. And from what I've heard, Janice is a pretty good painter." "Well, then...it will be crowded in the shop?" "Not that crowded. I'll still need your help and advice." John's dad nodded taking a sip of his beer. John slapped him on the shoulder leaving his hand there as they talked. A little later the men wandered back into the house. They joined in the discussion. Told some jokes and talked about how much they would miss the '57. "Mom?" "What is it dear?" "I was wondering if you could pick up Millie and run out to the airport tomorrow?" "Of course. Who are we picking up?" "My sister Janice and her husband Don. They're flying in from Dover for a little while," Millie told her. "Dover? Dover, Delaware?" "Yes. Would you be kind enough to do that for me Mom?" John asked. "Of course dear. What time?" "Millie has that information." "Can you be here at ten?" Millie asked. "Sure, no problem dear." "Thanks, mom," Millie and John both said. Soon after that, the gathering broke up. John's Mom and Dad left. Steve and Lori wandered into the living room. John was helping Millie clean up when she turned toward him and flowed into his arms. "I love you," she whispered. "I love you," John whispered back. "Why are we whispering?" "No reason." Millie giggled hugging him tightly. They returned to cleaning and washing the dishes. Once done, they went into the living room. They halted just in front of the stairs. On the couch, Steve and Lori were in a passionate embrace. Not wanting to break the spell, Millie and John crept up the stairs. They were in bed in each other's arms and drifting off to sleep within minutes. **Chapter 4** _"Well I'm not braggin' babe so don't put me down But I've got the fastest set of wheels in town When something comes up to me he don't even try Cause if I had a set of wings man I know she could fly"_ When John's Mom pulled up in the driveway, the song playing loudly from the garage was Little Deuce Coupe by The Beach Boys. Smiling she looked at her husband as he started to nod his head in time with the music. Honking the horn she waited for him to get out and Millie to come out of the house. "I'll see you when you get back?" John's dad asked his wife. "Of course darling." Leaning over he kissed his wife on the lips, then opened the door and slid out and hurried off to the garage. Millie came out of the house as he was passing, grabbed his arm and hugged him in welcome and good-bye. Millie hurried to the van and climbed in. "Morning Mom," she said brightly as she fastened her seatbelt. "Morning dear," Doris said smiling as she backed out of the drive. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** The deconstruction of the Nova went quickly with four sets of hands to do the work. By the time Millie and Doris returned, they had the front clip off the frame and the motor out bolted to the engine stand. When Doris honked the horn, the men took a break to greet the new arrivals. Janice was in John's arms as he came out of the garage. "I've missed you guys," she squealed as John spun her around. Then Don was there, dressed in his utilities. John took his hand and firmly shook it. "Dad, this is Don, Janice's husband. Don, my dad." "Mister Sterling, so pleased to finally meet you," Don said sticking out his hand. "Call me Jack and it's a pleasure to meet you too," John's dad said. "And let me thank you for your service." Don nodded a broad smile on his face. "And this is my lovely wife Janice," Don told Jack. Janice wrapped her arms around Jack and hugged him. He chuckled as he hugged her back. "Very nice to me you. I've heard a lot about you. I feel like I already know you," Janice said in a rush. "All good I hope. And it's very nice to meet you, young lady." "Don, why the uniform?" Steve asked. "Ah, free upgrades," he said sheepishly. Suddenly, a large black dog attacked Don and John. Don laughed as he knelt down, grabbed the large head and hugged it to him. John stepped back. "Don't worry, he won't bite you unless I tell him to or you try to hurt Janice." "What the f... when did you get him and what is he?" John said, his voice quavering. "First, his name is Rudy. He's a Rottweiler Pitt-bull mix. We got him right after you and Millie moved down here, to keep Janice company when I was... otherwise engaged. We rescued him from being destroyed at the shelter. Rudy, sit," Don commanded. The dog sat, waiting for his master to tell him what to do next. "John, come closer," Don said. "No, that's okay..." "Get over here you scaredy-cat," Don said dragging John closer. "Rudy, this is my friend John. John, let him sniff your hand.... no, back of your hand." John pressed his hand forward expecting any moment to have it torn to shreds by large white sharp teeth. The dog's, Rudy's, cold nose touched his skin then withdrew. "Steve, com' here," Don ordered. "Rudy, this is my friend Steve. Let him sniff you." Don took everyone there through the same routine. Only then did he release Rudy from his sit command. The dog then trotted away to explore his surroundings. "He will not bother you guys again, except to get his ears scratched." "You guys, come help with the luggage," Doris called from the back of the car. John, Jack, Steve, and Don hurried to the back of the car, Rudy followed Don wherever he went. The bags were hauled inside and Lori had lunch ready so, everyone ate. Rudy found an empty corner and lay down, his eyes ever vigilant. The rest of the afternoon was spent getting reacquainted. That night everyone settled down early. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** The next morning after breakfast, the men were out in the garage working on the car. Millie had to go to work. Lori and Janice cleaned up and then joined the men in the garage. All five of them were hard at work when John's dad, Jack, showed up. Rudy ran out to greet him. "Dad, who's minding the store?" John asked. "Your mom is. She knows I want to help here, so she said she would handle the store. Carl will be making the deliveries." "Well then welcome. Grab a wrench and get busy," John laughed. For the next four hours, the crew worked tearing the car down

to its bare bones. When they broke for lunch the frame, which included the main body, sat on its suspension in the bay. The other parts were sitting in another bay as were the motor. The replacement transmission, driveshaft, and differential were there with it in the bay. Everything was going to be torn down, cleaned and put back together with any new parts to replace broken ones. "Lunch is ready," Janice called from the driveway. Nodding, the men headed for the house. After lunch, everyone returned to the garage. John and his dad started to tear down the engine. Steve and Don were stripping the body of its interior parts and preparing it for sandblasting. Lori and Janice were moving the old suspension parts to the storage area out behind the garage. After about two hours, a growl from Rudy alerted everyone, they all looked up from what they were doing and watched a strange car pulled into the driveway. John went to a cabinet in the corner and pulled his pistol from the shelf inside. He slipped the weapon into his belt behind his back. Don called Rudy to him. "Janice, Lori, in the house, now," John said harshly. "Who..." "I don't know the car, Dad." "Okay. Steve, Don, follow me," Jack said heading out the back door. "I'll stick with John, Jack," Don said pulling a handgun from his belt and checking it over. "Rudy, heel." "Right. Steve, you're with me," Jack said. Steve followed him to the corner cabinet where Jack pulled two pump-action shotguns. He handed one to Steve. "It's loaded," he warned Steve who pulled the pump handle back a short distance to see if there was one in the chamber. There was. He pushed the handle forward re-chambering the round. The two of them slipped out the back door. John was waiting just inside the doorway knowing that the sun would be shining in the driver's eyes and he would be unable to see inside the garage. Don had put his pistol back into his belt and stood just to the right and behind John with Rudy at his side. "How did you get your weapon on the plane?" John asked. "I have papers and my shield that let me do that." "Ah. Here we go..." The car had stopped. The driver exited the car and opened the back door for someone. A tall Hispanic man climbed out of the backseat. Another Hispanic gentleman stepped out of the front passenger side of the car. "...time to meet our guests," John said. John and Don stepped off together Rudy followed Don. As they stepped into the light outside the three men spun quickly to face them. The tall gentleman from the backseat started walking toward John and Don. "Don't come any closer," John called out. The man stopped. The two men with him started forward. He raised his hand and they stopped. "Mister Sterling, I am Javier Mendoza, I represent the three gentlemen you... shot..." "...kept from raping my wife, you mean," John finished for him. "A matter of contention..." "Not by us." "I see." "Why are you really here?" "I was hoping to convince your wife and you to drop all the charges..." "Not hardly." "You haven't even heard my offer..." "No, I haven't and I don't need to hear your offer. The answer is no." "My clients are of some import..." "Maybe in Mexico, but not here. You and your men climb back in your car and leave." "I'm afraid I can't do that..." "Then I will have you arrested for criminal trespass." "How do you figure that, just to satisfy my curiosity?" "Let me explain the law here, to which I am no stranger..." "Yes, I know who your former employer was." "Then you know I know the law. You came here to offer me either compensation or my life to drop the charges. That is witness tampering, another crime here in the U.S. You came on my land, my property, without my permission to perform the affore mentioned crime. Thus, criminal trespass." "I see. Hector." The man closest to John reached inside his jacket. Rudy growled loudly. John and Don both beat him to the draw. The third man made the mistake of reaching for his weapon. John was in his face, gun pressed to his forehead before he cleared leather. Mister Mendoza just stood there a look of fright and amazement on his face. Rudy ran up to him and stood growling. "You have just assaulted my men, who happen to be Policía Federal." "They have no standing or jurisdiction here. In fact, just being here armed is a federal crime in the U.S." "Well as you have no standing anymore..." "I do," Don said. "If any of you move one hair, I will shot you as terrorists under the Patriot Act. Rudy, watch. And if you move just a toe, my dog will rip your throat out." "And I will help him," Lori said from the porch pointing a shotgun at Javier's head. Lori slowly moved down off the porch, never taking her aim away from Javier's head. Once she was in front of him with the shotgun pressed to his chest, she took her hand from the forestock and reached into her back pocket. She pulled a wallet out and flipping it open pushing it into Javier's face. "Read it," she told him. "I have..." "Out loud, asshole," Lori said harshly. "Federal Bureau of Investigation..." "Now..." she started, putting her creds away and backing from Javier, "...you two take your weapons out slowly and place them at your feet. If you make any sudden moves, you will be shot dead. Mister Mendoza, turn around, place your hands on the hood of the car and remain motionless." The two Federales slowly placed their guns on the ground. Javier turned and put his hands on the car. **Chapter 5** _"I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride I'm wanted dead or alive Wanted dead or alive"_ The chorus echoed in the garage. Bon Jovi's Wanted Dead or Alive blared from the radio. Janice came out of the house with three pairs of handcuffs. At the clink of metal, Javier turned his head to look. "No, you are not going..." His breath whooshed out of his lungs as Lori slammed the butt of her shotgun into his gut. He dropped to the ground. Rudy clamped his jaws to his throat, growling deeply. "Rudy, out," Don called. Rudy released Javier from his death grip and backed away two paces. "You will now turn over on your stomach," Lori growled pressing the muzzle of the shotgun to the side of his head. Javier rolled slowly. Janice grabbed a hand and snapped one side of the cuffs around his wrist none too gently. She then pulled his other hand behind his back and cuffed it to the other. John and Don had the two Federales leaning up against the car. Janice went to snap the cuffs on one and he jumped up, grabbed her and started to back to the car. The sound of a shotgun cycling stopped him in his tracks. Then the butt of a shotgun hit him in the head and he dropped limply to the ground. "Now cuff him Jan," Steve told her standing over the man on the ground, the muzzle of his shotgun pressed to his spine. Janice bent over him and cuffed his hands behind his back. She then went to the third man who was now pressed to the ground, a.45 pressed to his temple and cuffed him. "I called the Sheriff before I came out. He should be here any time now," Janice said standing. "All right let's get them up off the ground," John said. Steve and Jack hefted the one by them up to his feet. He was still wobbly as they leaned him against the car. He had blood seeping from the cut on his head where Steve had hit him. Don helped the other Federale up to his feet and bent him over the hood of the car. John was helping Javier to his feet when the sirens started in the distance, getting louder as they got closer. "You are in deep trouble. I have diplomatic immunity..." "I don't care. You may get out of jail when they verify that, but that won't keep me from shooting you next time you set foot on my property," John told him. "And I truly hope you try." Javier went to reply, then thought better and snapped his mouth shut. Deputy Carl Rutherford was the first on the scene. He was a veteran cop and took shit from no one. "Office..." Javier said. "Deputy, asshole," Carl told him. "Now keep your mouth shut until I ask you a question. John, Jack, Bill will be here in a minute, we'll wait for him." "Sure no problem Carl," John told him. Rudy was staring at Carl emitting a low almost inaudible growl. Don just smiled as Carl looked down at the big black dog. "Yours?" Carl asked Don. "Yes. Rudy, sit," Don told the dog. Rudy sat, still staring at Carl, but quit growling. "Nice looking dog..." "Don. Colonel Donald Sheffield United States Air Force, Office of Special Investigations." "Deputy Sheriff Carl Rutherford, glad to meet you sir and thank you for your service." "Thank you, Deputy, I am pleased to meet you." "Well these Mex seemed to have really stepped in it this time," Carl said shaking his head. "Deputy..." "I told you to be quiet," Carl told Javier. Bill Hudson pulled into the drive just then. He slowly got out of his car and walked to where everyone stood waiting. "Well, well what do we have here?" "Sheriff..." "I told you to shut the hell up. Open your mouth once more and it may not be pleasant for you." "Now Carl, please don't threaten the prisoners. It reflects badly on us," Bill told Carl chuckling to himself. "Now John, why don't you tell me what happened." "I could show you much easier," John told Bill. "How's that?" John turned, pointing to the top of the garage. "That camera captured everything, sound included." "I'll still need your statement..." "The copy of the video will be my statement Sheriff." "It will also be mine," Don told him. "I will swear to what is on the tape." "As will I," Lori said. "And I," Steve said. "And I," Janice said. Javier was looking a little green. "I will need all your particulars," Bill said. "Of course," Lori said stepping forward and flipping her wallet open. "Special Agent in Charge Lori Miller Federal Bureau of Investigation." She turned toward the camera with her creds then showed them to Bill Bill just cleared his throat as he took a good look at Lori's creds. "Colonel Donald Sheffield, United States Air Force, Office of Special Investigations," Don told him presenting Bill with his creds. He then turned and showed them to the camera. "Steven Miller, Deputy Attorney General, United States Department of Justice," Steve said showing Bill his creds. Steve showed his creds to the camera. The color drained from Javier's face as he swallowed hard. Bill looked around. "I know you Jack and John, but I don't know you," he said pointing at Janice. "She's my wife, Janice," Don told him. "There you go Bill, everyone's particulars on video. I'll go burn you a disc while you find out who these guys are." "I'll do it, John," Janice said. "You may need to be here to help Javier to remember what he said and did." John, Steve, Don, Lori, and Jack just smiled. **Chapter 6** For the next hour, Bill grilled Javier on who he was and what he was doing in the US and why he had come to coerce John and Millie. The three men were in suits, standing out in the hot sun. Everyone else except Bill and Carl had retreated to the shade in the garage. "Sheriff you don't seem to understand..." "Oh I understand Mister Mendoza, I understand completely. Carl, call Bruno, have this POS limo towed to the office. Then help me take these three to the jailhouse." "Sure thing Sheriff. Can I have the smart one?" "No, I think I better take him, Carl." "Okay, sir. You two, up you get," Carl yelled at them pulling his collapsible baton from its holster on his belt and flicking it open. "Carl, I don't want to see any bruises on them when we get to the office." "You won't Sheriff, the bruises won't start to show for a couple of days," Carl said smiling evilly at the two Federales in front of him. "Now git over to my cruiser." When Javier was in the back of Bill's car, Bill came over to John in the garage. "Ah...is this the next generation fixer-upper?" Bill asked stopping to stare at the parts strewn all over the garage floor. "Yep, '66 Chevy Nova II." "Okay, great. I'm going to take these guys to lock up. They will be out in a matter of hours if what Javier says is true and he does have diplomatic immunity. And if he does, the two with him probably do too, so watch yourselves." "Will do Bill, will do." "I really don't think they will be back after seeing not only the firepower you have here, but the fact that you are all LEO's will probably deter them from coming. But, I wouldn't put it past them to hire some scum from below the border to wander over this way without telling them about who you all are." "Thanks, Bill, we'll be on the lookout for them or others like them. We do have quite a collection of LEO's here and a number of firearms to defend ourselves with." "Yes, you do. Do you still have that Browning Hi-Power..." "I do and it's still not for sale," John said, laughing at Bill. "Sorry." "Well if you ever..." "I'll let you know. Thanks again, Bill." "See you, tell Millie I said Hi." "Will do." John watched Bill walk to his car and back out the drive. Carl was waiting for him out on the road. They both pulled away heading back to the Sheriff's office. "Well, that was exciting," Don said slapping John on the shoulder. "That it was," John replied. "I was thinking. If things are that bad here..." "This was the first time any of those crossing the border..." "Okay, but still...I have a few friends who have just been itching to take a vacation here. If you get my drift?" "Uh, what are we talking?" "Two fire teams of Air Force special ops. They bring their own equipment and buy their own food. They have two RV's that would fit nicely in that pasture over yonder." "I don't know. I don't want to start a war or have Bill get his nose out of joint..." "You let me worry about Bill," Don said winking at John. "As for the war, well they started that a long time ago." "I would also hate for your men to get into trouble over this..." "They won't." "Don...do whatever you think is best, but you will only be here thirty days. After you leave, it's just Millie and me. And these cartel guys have long memories." "I see your point. Okay, just for protection. No offensive work. Only defensive." "I think I can handle that." "I'll even throw in some upgrades to your defensive systems here, keep the bad guys at bay. This door, the front door, these windows, could all be a bit stronger." "Don?" "Don't worry, don't worry. That crew can be here tomorrow. The security detail will take a little longer. I need to make some phone calls." Just then, another car pulled into the drive. John looked at the strange car, then smiled as he saw his father-in-law driving. Both he and Carol, Millie's mom were looking behind them as the car slowly rolled up the drive. Hank stopped the car just in front of the back door. John stood there smiling as he opened the door for Carol. She flowed into his arms and gave him a big hug. "I have missed you oh so much," she whispered, squeezing him. "I've missed you to Mom," John said squeezing her back. Stepping back, John turned and took Hank's offered hand. "So what's with all the cops?" Hank asked. "Oh, we had some unwelcome visitors," John told him. "Again?" Carol croaked. "Not the same as last week. Millie's at work and the rest of the girls are in the house." **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** "So this lawyer fellow just wanders in and brings two thugs with to buy you or threaten you to lay off charging the three thugs who broke into your house and tried to rape Millie?" Hank asked incredulously. "He did. And got hauled off to jail for his trouble. Of course, he's out by now and on his way back to Mexico. Diplomatic Immunity, so he says." "I checked on that," Lori said. "He does, but it was limited to this one visit to the states. Assistant Attaché to the Ambassador. Once he gets back to Mexico, he's nothing but an ambulance-chasing lawyer. The two thugs with him were also Special Attachés for just this trip. Someone has some pull, but not too much or he would have had permanent immunity. My contacts will let me know if he enters the US again and if he has been granted Immunity by Mexico." "Good to know, thanks, Lori," Don replied. "My friends will be here day after tomorrow. The construction crew will be here tomorrow. They'll hit the local stores for what they need. They will be bringing some specialty items with them." "Hank, it might be advantageous if you stay here..." "The office in the garage has its own bathroom dad. And we have that extra bed in storage out there we can set up..." "Hank, I would hate to have you and Carol...bothered by..." "I understand son. Millie, why don't you show me where that bed is. Is that garage air conditioned?" "The office and bathroom is, dad," Millie answered laughing. Don, Hank, and John went to the garage to set up the bed. The women cleared the table of the dinner dishes. Millie went upstairs to get linen for the bed in the garage. Her mom went with her. "So are you really okay?" Carol asked. "Mom, I'm fine. John got here before they could lay a hand on me." "That must have been really frightening." "It was. I have never been so scared in my entire life. At least until John got there." "Did that lovely car actually blow up?" "It did. From what John says it was on fire when he jumped out and kept rolling down the road as he was running up the driveway." "Ah, so that was the burnt patch of woods we saw on the way in?" "Yes. But we have a new fixer-upper in the garage. Would you like to see it?" "You bet. Also where I'll be sleeping for the next week." "It's nice out there mom, don't worry. The office is clean and hardly smells of motor oil, I swear." Millie was laughing as she led her skeptical mother to the garage. **Chapter 7** Hank pitched in the next morning with the work on the car. Hank was a mechanic of sorts. He worked on the heavy machinery at the factory he worked at in Chicago. He knew one end of a wrench from another and didn't mind getting dirty. Carol on the hand was an office worker, well an executive at an insurance company in Chicago and didn't know what a wrench was. She helped out as best she could and got dirty in the process. Two hours into the work, a large panel truck pulled into the drive. Don signaled them all to keep working as he went out to the truck. John followed, as did Rudy, curious to see who was here. Three strangers, well strangers to John and Rudy, piled out of the truck and greeted Don with loud shouting and back thumping. Rudy started to growl. "Out," John said sternly. "Sit," he told Rudy. The dog listened to him. He was shocked but relieved. "John, get over here, I want you to meet these guys." **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** The construction engineers started working immediately. By the end of the day, they had the clapboard siding around the windows and door pulled. Had replaced the door frame and door with brand new steel frames and a steel door that looked exactly like the old wooden door. By the time dinner was ready, John and his brothers-in-law had the engine and transmission torn down soaking in the parts cleaner. They had the body and body panels in the media blaster all set for Janice and Lori to start stripping them. The replacement differential was stripped down and soaking in parts cleaner. The four construction engineers wandered over as everyone broke for dinner to have a look at the progress on the car. "So, you guys do this often?" Jeff the foreman asked. "Not really?" John answered. "Have you picked a color yet?" Bill asked looking in the media blaster room. "I was thinking a deep metallic blue," John said. "Yeah, that would look good, say with a white interior," Bill said nodding. "But you might want to go with a pearlescent white with a black interior. That way it would complement that Black '66 truck you have in the drive." John didn't say anything, just looked at the truck out front and nodded absently. "Okay you guys, it's dinner time. Go wash up and we'll head on down to the diner," Jeff said. "Okay boss," Bill said turning and walking toward the wash-up sink in the back of the garage where his other two co-workers were busy cleaning up. Jeff was right behind him. "White would look good on that car," he mumbled as he passed John. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** After dinner, the family gathered around the kitchen table and discussed what was happening in the world. As they all worked in different types of law enforcement, each had different information on what was going on. The conversation became heated at times. Not angry with each other but with what the administration was doing and why they were doing it. About an hour into the conversation, the construction crew returned from their meal. They were going to sleep in a huge tent they had brought with them and pitch in the backyard next to the garage. They stopped at the back door and called goodnight to everyone. Finally, at around eleven at night the house settled down and everyone went to bed. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** The next morning, as the men were working on the house and the family, was working on the car, two RV's rumbled up the drive. They were a site. Fully camouflaged, they would disappear in the field if parked under the trees to the right. Don went running out to greet them as John ran to the gate to open it for them to pull into the field. Don directed them back under the trees. When they were finally shut down, four men came clamoring out of each. The first man out greeted Don with a formal salute. Don returned the salute then the two embraced, clapping each other on the back in a comradely fashion. The rest greeted Don in the same manner. There were shouts of greeting and laughter as they all tried to catch up. "John, get over here," Don shouted, waving his brother-in-law over to him. John trotted up to the group. Don introduced him to the men. Each nodded as they after their introduction. First was First Lieutenant James Clark, next was Master Sergeant Ted Carlson, then in rapid order were, Staff Sergeant Juan Alvaraz, Sergeant Peter Scott, Sergeant Samuel Teller, Sergeant Carl Billings, Senior Airman Jack Hastings and finally, Airman First Class George Murphy. As the introductions ended, Rudy came bounding across the field to say hello to what seemed like old friends of his. He went to each man, who bent and scratched him behind the ear. As each man said hello, his tongue lolled out his mouth more and more. "They're all old friends," Don told John. "Yes, I can see." "All right you guys, get settled in, we'll have a briefing at sixteen hundred hours until then, get squared away. Shower in the garage. There are ladies present so do maintain proper decorum. Are we clear?" Don shouted the last. "Yes sir," the group shouted in unison. "Dismissed," Don shouted again. The groups turned and started to get their RV's in order. Lowering awnings and pulling out sections. One pulled a long hose out of a storage compartment and eyed Don. John signaled him to follow as he led him to the spigot on the side of the garage. Then John went to the garage and fired up the other well pump, they were going to need a lot of water. After a couple of hours, part of the group was lounging around between the two RV's. The others had been the last drivers and were inside sleeping. Two large electrical generators a fair distance from the RV's and fired up to provide electricity to the two RV's. The A/C was humming in each as John watched from the garage. "They're a good group of men, they will be no trouble. They have their own provisions and they will be working most of the time. You'll hardly notice they are here," Don said standing next to John. "I don't doubt you. It's just I have become accustomed to my solitude." "Ah, yes, I see. Well, you won't see them after tonight, except when they come into rest. They will be cycling in and out of here by ones and twos, so, until this is done, they will be in the field so to speak, keeping watch, only coming in to take a break or back us up." "It's that part, backing us up, that worries me." "As I said, they are good men. I have two more teams just like them. Right now they are in Iraq. Very hush, hush." "I'm not going to tell anyone," John said laughing. "Right. Back to work then? The car won't do it itself." "Right. Back to work," John said, turned and went back to putting the engine back together. For the rest of the day, John and his family were busy working on the car. Just before dinner, Don went over to the RV's and started briefing his men. Just as Lori poked her head out the back door to announce dinner was ready, Don's briefing concluded. John waited for him and they walked to the house together. "So, they start their overwatch duties tonight?" John asked. "Yep, just after sunset. They'll melt into the surrounding fields and trees to watch who comes, who goes. I'm in radio communication with them. I'll give you a handset so you can listen in. I'll also give one to Lori." "Great, Millie should be relieved." "How is she really doing? She puts up a great front, but her eyes dart around constantly." "She's fine, really, just a little apprehensive about what's going on. I hope this comes to a conclusion in short order." "From what I have heard, there is a movement in Congress about this very thing. We'll have to wait and see what happens with that." "We will," John answered. They were at the house and went in to eat. An hour later, John and Don, were sitting on the back porch watching as the two fire teams left. "Geez, Don, they sure are packing a lot of firepower." "Never know what or who you will run up against." "I know, but..." "Standard light issue for them. They aren't going to be needing things like stingers or grenades. You did notice they didn't have any M203's slung under their rifles?" "I did. Well, I'm off to bed. I think tonight will be the first good night's sleep Millie and I will have had since before this all happened." "We'll try our damnedest to do that for you." "Thanks, Don. Thank you very much." "That's what family are for." **Chapter 8** The next morning after breakfast, Don, Steve, Lori, Hank, and John were in the garage working on the car. Lori was starting to sandblast the body and its various parts while John and Hank finished putting the engine and transmission back together. A little while later, Jack showed up to help. When Millie came out of the house to go to work, Sergeant Peter Scott appeared from the RV closest to the house and hurried over to Millie's car. He held the door on the passenger's side for her, then hurried around to the driver's side. "Someone will accompany her to work every day if that okay with you?" Don asked. "If you think it's necessary." "It won't hurt." "That it won't." Just then, Lieutenant Clark showed up. He was without weapons. "Night uneventful, sir." "Very well Lieutenant, carry on." "Yes, sir." And Clark was gone. John just shook his head. "What?" "I was just thinking if we had a couple of hundred like him along the border..." "Yes. I know what you mean." "What?" John asked at his failure to elaborate. "Nothing, I can talk about." "Okay. Then back to work." Three hours later Carol and Janice called them in for lunch. The conversation at the table was minimal but light-hearted. Then Don's radio squawked. "Eagle one, company arriving." Don was on his feet and at the door in an instant. He paused, looking back a John. "Perhaps you should be the one to greet our guests," Don chided. "Perhaps that would be better, seeing as how this is my house." "The boys will have you covered from the trees if I'm not mistaken. I'll go out the back and come around the house. Try to keep them from looking my way when I sneak up behind them." "Right. I'll do my best," John said testily. John waited until Don was out the back door. John then opened the side door and stepped out on the porch, just as a car pulled into the drive. It was a standard Ford POS sedan. It rolled slowly up to a stop just shy of the porch. Slowly two men exited the car and made their way over to the stairs of the porch. "That's far enough. What can I do for you men?" John asked, his right hand behind his back gripping the automatic in his waistband. "We were just passing by and heard this place was for sale..." "Nope. Someone is pulling your leg I'm afraid," John answered politely. "No, I'm pretty sure about the information..." "Look, the place isn't for sale and will not be for sale, ever." "I would like to make an offer anyway." "Fine. Make me an offer," John said rolling his eye up into his head. "Two million U.S. dollars." "No thank you. Now go." "I see that you are very attached..." "Wait a minute, I know you," shouted Don from behind the men. They both spun on their heels to face Don. Don was grinning like a Cheshire cat as he walked up to them. He had drawn his pistol. "John, get Lori out here, we have ourselves a bonafide bad guy here. No not the one doing all the talking, this one," Don said pressing his pistols barrel to the man's forehead. "So how does it go Alejandro," Don said slurring the last part of the man's name. "What's up?" Lori asked as she stepped out on the porch. "Lori, John, let me introduce you to Alejandro Salazar, head of the Reynosa drug cartel. Alejandro, meet my sister-in-law," Don leaned into him almost whispering with reverence, "Special Agent in Charge Lori Miller of the FBI." Alejandro jerked at what Don told him as the color drained from his face. For the last ten years, the FBI had been trying to catch Alejandro. For ten years he had slipped through their finger more than once. "So, your friend Javier, didn't tell you everything about his trip north?" Don laughed as he pushes Alejandro against the porch. Lori and John both had their weapons out and covered the other man, who stood there with his mouth open. "I told you this wasn't a good idea," he hissed at his boss. "Shut up fool," Alejandro hissed back, squirming as Don frisked him. "Both of you shut up," Lori said as she came down the stairs to hand Don a pair of handcuffs. "Now I need to make a call. Phoenix would be the closest office, yea John?" "Yep." "They'll probably send a helicopter out here for this one," Lori said with a hint of glee in her voice. This catch was a career maker. She turned and went inside the house. "Eagle one, more company. On foot closing in from the west." "Move to intercept. Let them trespass before you move in." "Eagle one, out. Falcon, did you copy?" "Affirmative, moving into a flanking position now." Don turned his radio down so only he could hear it. "Who are you, people?" Alejandro asked, fright masking his face. "Javier didn't tell you that everyone here is connected to law enforcement in one way or another?" Don asked. "He told me that Senor Sterling is ex-border patrol..." Don laughed. "That Javier is a sly one. Should I tell him?" Don asked no one in particular. "I think I will. Myself first and the reason I know who you are. United States Air Force Office of Special Investigations, anti-terrorist task force. And you Alejandro are the southwest's most wanted terrorist." "I'm not a terrorist, I'm a businessman." Don laughed again at Alejandro's statement. "You already know my sister-in-law Lori. Her husband Steve is the Deputy Attorney General, United States Department of Justice. He'll probably be the one prosecuting you." "I will do everything in my power to have that case assigned to me," Steve said stepping out on the porch. "It will be a slam dunk. I bet the trial doesn't last two days before Mister Salazar is sentenced to death," Steve said grinning. "I want to call my lawyer," Alejandro said. "You'll have that chance once you are processed and booked. Alejandro Salazar, you are under arrest." "What are the charges?" he asked defiantly. "We'll start with murder and work our way down to terrorist activities," Lori said. "You can't do this without a warrant," Alejandro shouted shrilly. "There are many warrants issued for your arrest, Alejandro. They will be presented to you when you arrive in Phoenix later today," Steve told him. Suddenly gunfire, pistols, and shotguns, broke out to the west of the house. Answered swiftly by automatic weapons fire. The firefight lasted mere seconds. "Eagle one, intruders subdued." Don had turned up his radio. "How many dead?" Don asked. "All of them. None of us." Came the answer. "I'll call Gamma Four to clean up the mess. Leave two men to guard the bodies until G4 arrives." "Eagle one out." "I have to make a phone call, watch this POS while I'm in the house. You might want to cuff the other guy too," Don said as he climbed the stairs and disappeared into the house. Steve produced another set of cuffs. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** Three hours later two choppers arrived from Phoenix. They landed in the field just west of the house. Three agents stepped out and calmly walked toward the house. One of Don's fire teams suddenly surrounded them. Bear, stepped forward and asked to see their credentials. They produced their creds and Bear and his team escorted them to the house. "Why did you have them do that?" John asked Don. "The cartel isn't above dropping a helicopter full of gunsels in here posing as FBI agents. Bear knows what he's doing," Don responded. "Who's in charge here?" one of the feds yelled. The noise from the choppers made it difficult to hear. "Tell your pilots to cut their engines," Don yelled. "I'm not going to shout." The fed turned and signaled the pilots to cut their engines. The noise dropped to almost nothing. Just the whoop, whoop of the blades as they cut through the air. "That's much better," Don said. "And you are?" The fed asked. "Colonel Donald Sheffield, United States Air Force, OSI," Don told him. "And you are?" "I'm now in charge here," the fed said arrogantly. "Bullshit," Lori yelled at him from the doorway of the house, holding a small duffle bag. "And you are?" "Special Agent in Charge, Lori Miller. Now answer his question or you'll find yourself somewhere in the Aleutian Islands." "Special Agent Michael Forrest, ma'am," Mike answered, sheepishly. "I was told to come arrest and transport one Alejandro Salazar." "He's already under arrest and you will be transporting him and me to the Phoenix office." "Yes, ma'am," Mike replied. "Right this way. Where's the prisoner?" "Eagle two," Don spoke into his radio. "Bring up the prisoner." "Eagle two, roger." Three men, two in camo gear, the third in civvies stepped out of the RV's just in front of the choppers. Agent Forrest did a double take. "Who the hell are you guys?" "That's classified," Don told him. Mike's head turned toward Don so fast that he almost broke his neck. "Bear, I want Sammy and Noname to accompany SAC Miller." "Yes, sir. Teller, Billings, report," Bear shouted. The two men trotted over to where they all were standing. "Sammy, Noname, you will accompany Agent Miller to Phoenix. You will not leave her side. Is that clear?" "Yes, sir," they both answered in unison. "Agent Forrest, my men will accompany you and Agent Miller to Phoenix. If you try to separate her from them, there will be hell to pay..." "You can't tell me what to..." "No, but I can," Lori growled. "Yes ma'am," Forrest snapped. "Sammy, you two try not to kill anyone unless you have to," Don said winking at the two. "We'll try sir," Sammy answered a sly smile on his face. "Well let's get started," Lori yelled. Steve was at her side, hugging her and kissing her good-bye. "I'll be back by

dinner tomorrow," Lori told him. Forrest signaled the pilots to started their engines. Both choppers began to whine as they went through the startup sequence. Everyone climbed into the helicopters. Lori, Sammy, Noname and Alejandro in one, the other agents in the other. Both choppers lifted off and were gone, heading north into the darkening skies. "Falcon, Eagle back on patrol," Don whispered into his radio. Two almost silent clicks and the men in the field disappeared into the coming night. "What are you going to do about... did we ever ask his name?" John asked Don. "It's Carlos. I thought we would just send him back to Mexico. He's here illegally, so I thought I'd have Juan take him back across. They can use their car to get him close to the border, then Juan can walk him across into Mexico." "And if Juan runs into the Policía Federal or cartel thugs?" "He's not going to cross into Mexico, only Carlos will and he will have Juan as his incentive not to cross back." Don winked at John. "I see." "Steve has been on the phone for a good three hours, making sure nothing happens to Lori and having himself set as prosecuting attorney." "That means he'll be leaving..." "Not for a while. He's having the local DAG handle the arraignment. The trial won't take place until next month from what I understand. He also got himself assigned as the prosecuting attorney in the case here. So you and Millie will have family on your side." "Isn't that a conflict of interest?" "How? He will be fighting just as hard as any other case he has prosecuted. How is that a conflict?" "You know the other side will bring that up?" "They'll try. Steve is a good lawyer." "Yes, I know." The two sat there watching the sky as the sunset. "Dinner," Janice said from behind the two. Dinner that night was somber. **Chapter 9** The next morning at the breakfast table, Carol said that she and Millie were going into town. "Not alone," Don told them. "But three of your men are already away..." "Juan got back late last night. I will send one of my men with you, just in case." "Not bristling with guns I hope?" Carol asked lightly. "No, he'll be in civvies, but he will be armed." "Which one?" Millie asked. "AFC George Murphy," Don said. "A little young, don't you think?" "Millie dear, no one gets on my teams unless they are really good and George might be young and new to the teams, but he's as good as any of them." "No disrespect..." "None taken." "So, Mom, why are you and Millie going into town?" John asked. "It's a surprise. Millie will tell you when we get back." "Okay." John wasn't going to press them. If they didn't want to tell him, he wasn't going to get them to no matter how he asked the question. Don called over the radio to have George come in and clean up and change. Then went out to explain to him what he was to do. "You protect them, no matter what. Understand?" "Yes, sir." "You seem hesitant?" "Sir, it's just...am I authorized to use deadly force?" "You are. Rules of engagement apply. If you or they are fired upon you will return fire. You will return fire until the assailant or assailants are dead. Is that clear enough Airman?" "Yes, sir." "Then get the car ready for your departure." "Yes, sir." George saluted, turn on his heels and headed toward the car Hank and Carol had rented. Ten minutes later they pulled out of the drive and were gone. Everyone else was in the garage working on the car. Don's men were on patrol down three men. Janice was in the paint booth painting the body parts. The engine was finished, the transmission was waiting to be attached to the engine. The rest of the men were working on the seats, door panels and headliner. John was at the workbench working on the dashboard, mounting new gauges and other hardware. He had painted it black to match the rest of the interior. They should have it done within a couple of days. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** Carol sat in the back seat with Millie. George drove seeming to pay no attention to the women in the back as they talked in hushed tones. "This is something I have wanted to do for a long time. Your father agrees. I have transferred the money to your account." "Mom, while I thank you for this, you should have discussed it with John and me. It's too much." "Nonsense. It's a pittance. Your father and I are getting on in years and we have more than enough to last us. We have already paid off Lori's mortgage. We would pay off Janice's, but they keep moving around so much..." "Mom, thank you." "You're welcome, dear. I love you." "I love you too Mom." They arrived at the bank that held their mortgage. Millie asked to see Mister Simons. They were shown to his desk and took seats across from him. George stood just behind them scanning the patrons of the bank. "Missus Sterling, what brings you in today?" Simons asked staring at Carol while talking to Millie. His frequent glances at George took his gaze away from the women. "I'm here to pay off my mortgage," Millie answered, not introducing her mother on purpose. "I see. Well let me pull it up on the computer," he said turning to the keyboard and typing. "Well, yes, I think we can handle that for you. Are you going to pay with a check?" "No, I'll be paying with cash. If you will excuse me, I will withdraw the cash from my account here." "Ah..." "What seems to be the problem, Mister Simons?" "We don't have that much cash on hand..." "You don't have seventy-five thousand dollars on hand? That being what we owe on our mortgage." "Ah..." "Then I'll be paying by Electronic Funds Transfer," Millie countered. "We can do that," Simons said. "I'm really sorry, but we had a very prominent customer withdraw a lot of cash late yesterday. We just haven't been able to have more cash brought in to... well you don't need to hear my troubles." "I don't normally, but... this customer didn't happen to be Alejandro Salazar?" "I'm sorry, but I can't say who it was. Confidential, I'm afraid." "No matter. Now transfer the funds and give me a receipt and my contract stamped paid in full and we will be on our way." "Oh dear. We don't have the physical contract here. It's at our main office in Phoenix. It will take a couple of days to have it transferred here." "You will call the main office, tell them to mark it paid in full and overnight it to my daughters address or else," Carol spoke softly. The women could see a chill run down Simons' back. "Yes, I could do that for you, of course, the logical thing to do. Now, why didn't I think of that?" "Because you're worried about what Salazar will do," Carol said. Simons turned white as a ghost. But he picked up the phone and called the home office as he typed on the computer to get the exact amount of the payoff. Fifteen minutes later, Millie, Carol, and George had in their possession, a signed and notarized receipt, a copy of the mortgage contract marked paid in full faxed from the home office. And a letter from the bank saying their mortgage had been paid in full. The last being insisted upon by Carol. They were then driven home by George. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** That evening a helicopter touched down in the field. Lori and the two men Don sent with her jumped out of the chopper. Lori turned and flipped the finger to the pilot. Sammy and Noname just aimed their rifles at him. The helicopter jumped into the air and was gone. Don waited at the fence for his men to report. Lori was hurrying to embrace her husband. "Problem?" Don asked his men as the stopped in front of them. "Yeah, the weasels up in Phoenix weren't going to fly us home. They said we could catch a commercial flight. So we commandeered one of their pilots and a chopper." "Very good. So they weren't pleased that they weren't going to get the collar on Salazar?" Don asked. "Yep, they were very rude to Ms. Miller and she read their SAC the riot act. He was not very nice to her until he got a call. I assume her husband had some strings pulled because that bastard was quaking in his shoes. Yes sir, no sir, flying left and right from him." "I'm glad. About time those assholes at the FBI, SA Miller excluded, had their asses reamed by someone higher up the food chain. Go get some rest. I have a funny feeling that in the next day or so, something is going to pop." "Yes sir," Sammy replied as the two of them turned toward the RVs. Don watched his men until they were in one of the RVs, then returned to the house. The next couple of days would be interesting, Don thought as he walked back to the house. Lori and Steve were still on the porch talking quietly. Don stepped up and stood waiting. He wanted to find out what was going on with Lori, her job and Steve and his. "Don," Steve said still looking into his wife's eyes. "I got most of what happened from my men, but would like to hear what took place from the two of you." "Ah...," Steve started. "Those assholes in Phoenix were going to steal our collar," Lori hissed. "That is until the AG himself read them the riot act. Yet they still didn't want to cooperate and give us a ride home. Sammy took things into his own hands. I'm afraid we kidnapped a pilot and a chopper. I haven't heard from my boss yet, but I expect to." "You won't. My boss had him on the line when he was talking to SAC Grady. They both know what he was trying to do. And if I have anything to say about it, it just cost him his job," Steve said vehemently. "Interesting. You really think you can get his ass canned?" Don asked. "You bet. The FBI falls under the jurisdiction of the DOJ. They work for us. If I had the time and the transport I would pay that SAC a visit he would never likely to forget." "So everybody is keeping their jobs... for now?" Don asked. "Of course, except that ass of a SAC in Phoenix," Steve said. Lori just smiled as she put her hand on Steve's arm. Don nodded, turned and went inside. **Chapter 10** _"It's a losing proposition But one you can't refuse It's the politics of contraband It's the smuggler's blues Smuggler's blues"_ The radio was blaring Glenn Frey's Smuggler's Blues as everyone worked on the car. They were now starting to put it back together. Every part had been rebuilt or replaced, cleaned, polished and tested. The first to come together was the chassis. All the components were laid out on the floor in the approximate location they would be attached. Then the crew began attaching. By lunchtime they were almost finished. "So any word?" Don asked as they sat around the table. "No, none," said Lori. "Me neither," Steve added. "You?" "Not related to your problems. The word is a band of bandits crossed the border from Guatemala into Mexico yesterday. One of my people followed them up the coast but lost them in Mexico City. They are predicted to arrive here day after tomorrow." A hush enveloped the room. "How many, what arms?" John asked. "Fifteen, light weapons, M4's, AK's. Nothing we can't handle, my men and I," Don said. "I have another team flying in later today. They should be here around dusk." "Shit, this is turning into an all-out war," Millie croaked. "The war... has been going on for a long time. It will continue until the tight asses in Washington realize, or perhaps they do, that the longer they outlaw drugs the longer the cartels will be with us. Legalize drugs and the cartels die and the government gets a large influx of tax dollars," Don said calmly. "You believe that?" Steve asked. "It's only logical. If drugs were legal, would you do them?" "Hell no." "Nor would most of the population of the U.S. In fact predictions are that only ten percent more people would be used than those that are using now. The prices would of course skyrocket at first, but as the market was flooded with legal drugs, the price would come way down. And the Treasury would benefit from the increase in revenue." "I don't really believe that," Steve said. "Look it up. Google is a great tool. Studies have been done by half a dozen universities around the country. The government even commissioned a study. They tried to hide it, but it's out there on the net. You want to solve the drug problem, treat them the same as alcohol, problem solved." "I don't know," John said. "I can see some of what you say might help, but..." "Which would you do, buy a thirty dollar ounce from a pusher or buy that same ounce for ten bucks? Or be able to grow what you need in your own backyard?" "All right, enough of the debate on the war on drugs. We have a car to finish before the big party day after tomorrow," Millie chimed in to get the debate stopped. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** _"Well I saved my pennies and I saved my dimes For I knew there would be a time When I would buy a brand new 409 Giddy up giddy up giddy up 409"_ Even though they weren't building a 409, everyone in the garage was singing along to the Beach Boys classic. The work on the car, it had yet to earn a name, was progressing nicely. The suspension was now complete and the chassis sat on the old set of tires and rims. The engine and transmission had been mated and now hung from the overhead crane, waiting to be placed in the car. Millie, Lori, and Janice were working inside the passenger compartment. Putting in the carpeting. The dashboard had been placed by Steve and Hank. The steering column and wheel still needed to put in. That would happen after the engine and transmission were slipped into place. Then it was time. Everyone gathered around to help as they lowered the engine, slipping the transmission in first angling it down to duck under the firewall. Then it was in, resting on the motor mounts. John and Hank slipped under the car and bolted the motor and transmission in place. They slipped the driveshaft in and the drive train was ready to go. The rest of the crew was attaching the electric and gas lines. The coolant lines would have to wait until the radiator was in place. Everything was buttoned down just before dusk. Then Don's radio squawked. "Eagle one, slick inbound, looks friendly." "Roger Eagle one," Don answered running for the gate to the field. Everyone else gathered at the garage entrance to watch. The helicopter came in low over the trees and dropped down in the middle of the field. Four men jumped out and ran toward Don. The chopper was up and headed away to the north before the four men's feet hit the ground. The noise dwindled as the helicopter sped off. Don was talking to his men. After a minute or so, they all nodded and headed off into the brush. They disappeared almost immediately. "Dinners ready," Carol called from the porch. Everyone headed inside to eat. John hung back, closing up the garage and making sure alarms were turned on. The rumble of the door closing accompanied his trek to the back door. Now all they had to do is wait. The day after tomorrow and the war would be here. Then he noticed the crate by the RV. Don was dragging it under the awning. John stopped and waited. Don joined him a few seconds later. "And?" John asked. "And what?" Don replied. "In the crate?" "Ah, yes the crate. Some party favors for the party." "I see. What kind of party favors?" "Just some small arms for us here at the house." "About that party..." "The cleanup squad is standing by not three minutes away. They chopper in and collect and clean up the party mess and are gone before anyone takes notice." "And your report..." "Will reflect that my men were training when they came under fire by Mexican nationals on the U.S. side of the border, twenty miles this side of the border. All were killed and the bodies brought to Holloman Air Force Base at White Sands. No questions will be asked of me as my unit doesn't exist." "Ah, I thought you worked for the OSI?" "I do, on paper." "Ah... okay, let's eat," John said looking at his brother in law with a little more awe. The rest of the night was spent quietly indoors. **Chapter 11** _"All the vampires walkin' through the valley Move west down Ventura Blvd. And all the bad boys are standing in the shadows All the good girls are home with broken hearts"_ The car was almost done and Tom Petty's Free Falling was playing quietly on the radio in the corner. The garage had taken on a hush as the parts were fitted. The radiator was in, hoses clamped in place and fluid filled. The gas tank was in place, lines run, checked for leaks and filled. The engine had been filled with the necessary amount of oil as had those pumps attached to it. The wiring was finished, neatly run to all the places it needed to be, all that was needed was a battery to bring everything to life. The last thing to be lovingly attached to the new car was its wheels. Chrome plated wheels, five spoke, with a low profile tire. The suspension was set up so the car was low to the ground, only eight inches of ground clearance. The hydraulics would raise the car to a twelve-inch ground clearance when needed. The car was beautiful. And ready to be fired up. John handed the keys to Millie. Huge smile on her face she slipped behind the wheel. Adjusted the seat. Shivered and slowly inserted the key into the ignition switch. Crossing the fingers on her left hand, she turned the key. The engine cranked, sputtered, cranked some more. John waved at her to stop. He picked up a spray can and squirted something into the carburetor on each side of the blower. "Okay, try it now," he yelled. Millie turned the key. The engine cranked and exploded into life. It was running. John leaned in and pushed on the accelerator linkage. The engine revved loudly. "I think we forgot the exhaust," Don yelled. "I know," John yelled back laughing. The headers were belching fire as the engine warmed up at an idle. When John blipped the throttle again blue flames shot out from under the car and filled the garage with noise. John signaled Millie to shut it down. She turned the key to the off position and silence once again returned to the garage. "All right, let's get the exhaust installed," John shouted, laughing. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** Two hours later the car was complete. They started it up again and backed it out of the garage, parking it in the middle of the apron just in front of the garage. The paint sparkled in the light of the noon high sun. It was beautiful. Janice had added just a touch of metal flake to the pearl white finish. Little silver flakes caught the sun and reflected that light as little jewels would. The windows were tinted a dark smoke. All the chrome, which there was hardly any, sparkled. The hood of the car only had a small rise to accommodate the blower and the two carburetors. The family stood around the car just admiring it as it sparkled in the sunshine. Millie was leaning against John as she looked at her reflection in the window. "She's beautiful," Millie croaked. "She is that," John said. "Almost as beautiful as you." Chuckling could be heard from the rest of the family. "So, what are you going to name her?" Jack asked the question on everyone's mind. "I don't know. I need to take her for a drive first. See what she feels like." "Well, what are you waiting for?" Don asked. "I'm not done admiring her yet," John said giving Millie a squeeze. "Well, we're expecting company and I want all the vehicles in the garage when they arrive, except for what's coming." "And what's coming?" John asked. "Help," Don said flatly. "You can hear it now." Don cocked his head. John did too at the noise off in the distance. It was a roar of an engine like no other that he had heard. A diesel, a large diesel. It bellowed its arrival as it charged past you. The noise grew in power the closer it came. "Is that a tank?" John asked. "No. I couldn't get one of those on short notice, so I got something almost as good." "What?" "You'll see. It's really ugly, though, but perfect for what is going on here. Open the gate to the pasture. We'll park it there until nightfall." "Geez Don, I hope you haven't overdone anything?" "Maybe, but it's in our favor to overdo it." The roar of the engine became louder and louder until the ugliest truck John and the rest had ever seen pulled into the drive. Don was at the gate waving the drive into the pasture. The truck barely slowed down to make the turn. It was huge, it was ugly and it looked dangerous. "That is the ugliest thing I have ever seen," John said to Don, slapping him on the shoulder. "What the hell is it?" "It's called a Cougar. It is completely armored and armed with a 7.62mm machine gun in a turret up top. There are gun ports all around. It's not fast but can go almost anywhere. The guys in Iraq love them." "Holy shit," John shouted. The engine was cut and quiet once more returned to the yard. Four men practically tumbled out of the vehicle. Don walked over to where they were. They all saluted him in unison. He waved a kind of salute back at them. They all talked for a while, then Don returned to the group at the car. The four men went to an RV and went inside. "They'll shower, rest and be ready for tonight." "So you think we'll be hit tonight?" "Not knowing what gear they have, doubtful. First thing in the morning, for sure." "Why the Cougar?" "What better place to put the women?" "I'm not going in there," Lori almost shouted. "Lori!" Steve growled. She was suddenly a meek housewife. "You will do as I say and you will be in there before first light in the morning." "Of course dear," she answered softly. "Any more objections?" Don asked smiling weakly. "Who wants to go for a ride?" John asked to cut the tension in the air, pulling the keys to the car out of his pocket. "Me," Millie said. "We can fit two more. How about Steve and Lori?" Steve nodded and Lori and he slipped into the backseat. John fired it up and slowly backed down the drive. The car was a lot quieter with a top-notch exhaust system installed. Once on the road out front, John accelerated away from the house. By the time he had to slow to take the curve, he was doing a hundred and forty miles per hour. This car was way faster than the '57. It was quite a bit lighter too. The horsepower was about the same, though. He would have to get it dyno-tuned to know exactly, but he estimated around four hundred horses. For the next ten minutes, John drove the back roads of Cochise County. For the next two hours, he gave everyone a ride except Don and Janice. As he pulled in the drive with his parents in the backseat, he tossed the keys to Don. "Don't wreck her," he said. "Really? Janice, get your pretty little ass in this car," Don shouted as he slipped behind the wheel. Janice giggled with glee as she closed the passenger door and cinched up her seat belt. Don was down the drive and out on the road as quick as he could. They could hear Janice's squeals of delight as he raced away. **Chapter 12** Jack and Doris had gone home. Janice, Lori, Millie, and Carol were in the Cougar that sat in the drive. Sergeant Bruce Tan was in the turret, his radio whispering as the other units communicated with each other. The women talked quietly amongst themselves. Lori kept expressing her desire to be with Steve, instead of cooped up in the Cougar. She giggled every time she said that. Carol, just harrumphed at her. Janice and Millie giggled at their mom. John, Don, Steve, and Hank were sitting on the porch. Rudy was down on the drive, his ears twitching to the sounds of the night. Don's radio also whispered the communications between his units in the field. All of them were armed. Don had given them each an M4. They all said they knew how to handle them, which they did. There was a case of magazines at their feet. "Echo one, we have heat signatures. Five miles and closing." "Where is Echo one?" John asked. "He's two miles to the south, three to the west. Right about where our guest should walk past him. He'll wait until they pass, then flank them to the south until they arrive. Then their fun begins." Silence once again settled on the men on the porch. The men could hear the women whispering in the Cougar. They could see Sergeant Tam grinning in the turret above. John rose, walking over to the Cougar he opened the door as quietly as he could and leaned in. "Ladies, we can hear you up on the porch, could you remain silent until we deal with what is coming?" "Sorry dear," Millie answered. "We'll be quiet until you tell us it's okay to talk or until the gunfire starts and we scream our heads off." "Good enough," John smiled at his lovely wife. Closing the door, John returned to the porch. "Eagle one, intruders one mile from the property line." "Echo one, three just split off. They are headed down the road toward the house." "Alpha one, roger. Looks like we'll have some coming up the drive. Places," Don whispered. The four men moved in unison, almost as if they had rehearsed it. A wall of sandbags had been placed between the house and the driveway. Rudy moved too, he quickly disappeared into the night at Don's signal, "watch." "Eagle one, one hundred meters." The turret in the Cougar above them alerted them to movement down the drive. Then there was a yip from the woods to the left of the drive. Then four shadows moved out of the woods. "Detener y soltar sus armas," Don called out. The men halted, then raised their weapons to fire. The machine gun in the turret chattered and all three of them dropped where they were. It didn't seem fair. Yet they were there to kill John and Millie along with anyone else that was with them. Then the firefight broke out to the west. Loud, but short- lived. "Alpha one to Gamma one, you're up," Don called over the radio. Two helicopters came swooping down to land in the field in front of the RVs. Eagle team showed up dragging the men they had fought. The team from the helicopter picked them up and tossed them inside. Three men flowed out of the darkness to drag the three at the end of the driveway over to the helicopters. Within five minutes the choppers and the bodies were gone. Eagle team flowed back into the darkness. "Falcon one, company arriving, Sheriff's car." A few minutes later Sheriff Hudson showed up turning into the driveway with his lights out. When he saw the Cougar sitting up by the house he braked hard. "Well, I guess I should..." John started to say. "I'll handle it John, but you're welcome to come," Don said. "Sure, my life is in your hands," John quipped. Don rose from his chair on the porch and waved to the Sheriff. Then he stepped down to the drive and started toward the Sheriff's car. The door opened and Bill Hudson stepped out. "I need to see your hands," he yelled. "Sure Sheriff," Don said raising his hands, palms out. "We good Sheriff?" "Yeah, we're good," Bill said and closed his door and walked to where Don stood. "What can I do for you Sheriff?" Don asked politely. "I have received several calls about gunfire from here. You wouldn't know about that would you?" "Well, Sheriff as a matter of fact I do. Fifteen heavily armed Mexican Nationals crossed the board into the United States about five hours ago. They made their way here, where my strike team met them in a short firefight." Bill's mouth was hanging wide open as he stared at Don. "What?" "My strike team met and overwhelmed a force of armed Mexican Nationals on US soil, who were at the time trespassing on Sterling land, we being guests of his at the time. Rules of engagement in accordance with MilSpec when encountering a force of hostile foreign nationals on US soil." "Well, where are they," Bill croaked when he finally got his voice back. "I'm sorry to report that all foreign nationals were killed and their bodies removed to Holliman Air Force Base for further investigation. This is now an OSI matter." "Bullshit, this is my county," Bill yelled. "Echo one, Air One arriving." Bill heard the radio call and his head jerked around to look behind him. "Who are you people?" he asked. Two black Ford sedans pulled into the drive behind Bill's car. Two men dressed in black exited the first car and walked to where Bill and Don were standing. "Sheriff Hudson, I'm Special Attaché to the President, this matter is now under federal jurisdiction. Do you understand? Now, we will not be intruding on your day to day activities, but what happened here is no longer your concern." The man handed Bill a sheaf of papers, turned and walked back to the car. The cars backed out of the drive and were gone within minutes. "Who are you, people?" "We're the good guy's Sheriff. And if you value your life, you will stay away from here for the next couple of days while my men and I clean up this nasty business." "Well, we'll see about that," Bill said turning and returning to his car. He slammed the door and backed out the drive at full throttle. His lights flashed on as he pulled away, roaring down the road. "Eagle one, Sheriff leaving." "Alpha one to all units, good work, standard patrol package." Three clicks on his radio were all that Don received in response. **Chapter 13** "Is there anything he can do..." John asked. "Not if he values his job," Don said. "How's that?" "I'm sorry, I can't tell you any more than that, my friend." "Cut the crap Don," John said. "Don, tell him," Janice chimed in from the porch. "Honey, you know I can't..." "Bullshit," she replied. Don hung his head, the real boss had spoken. "If he tries to interfere he will be arrested, tried and convicted of terrorist activities..." "You won't!" John yelled. "He's a friend." "I hope he reads that letter from the DOJ. I hope he stays away. I hope my man in town can keep him from making a big mistake." "Your man in town?" Don asked. "Yes. My man in town. He will try his damnedest to keep Bill Hudson away from here for the next forty-eight hours." "Why forty-eight hours?" "That's when those three thugs go to trial. Steve will be prosecuting." "I almost forgot about that. He's been prepping me and Millie for the past three days in our spare time." "Let's all go in and get some rest tonight," Don said. "I am tired," John replied. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** The next morning at the breakfast table, Don cleared his throat getting everyone's attention. "There has been a new development..." He held up his hand to forestall questions. "It would seem that now that, Alejandro is in jail, his sister Gabriela, has taken over control of the Reynosa cartel. Word is she has crossed the border and is on her way here for payback. She is an expert marksman, an indiscriminate killer, and a crazy bitch to boot. She will stop at nothing to have her revenge." "Great! If it's not one thing it's another," John said for them all. "What does she look like?" Don, picked up his cell and swiped the face. Pictures started to flip by. He stopped when a dark hair Latino woman was displayed and turned it so everyone could see. "I've seen her," John said. "You have? When? Where? Come on man," Don was almost shouting. "I'm thinking...in town...three, no two days ago...at the coffee shop." "Probably casing the place. Did she seem to recognize you?" "Not really. She was sitting at a table out front and staring at the Sheriff's office." Don was on his phone, stood and walked away from the table and out the door. "Come on Millie, let's take Baby for a ride again." "Yes," Millie replied, both of them heading out the door. Don waved at them as they climbed into Baby. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** Sergeant Scott Caplin and Senior Airman Harry Jones were in their hide on the highest point in the surrounding landscape. A hill seven hundred meters from the Sterling house. They were both scanning the landscape for anyone who would do the Sterling's harm. They both heard the car start. The roar of the engine was distinct. Harry, scanned the driveway. "Mister and Missus Sterling leaving," he told his partner. "No escort." "Joyride," Scott said. "Keep scanning." Both men kept scanning for trouble as the car backed out the drive onto the road. The engine roared and the car lurched forward. Within seconds it was doing eighty miles an hour. "Contact, two, eight, five," Scott whispered. "Oh my god," he shouted as the contrail of an RPG flicked out of the bushes down the road from the car. Scott fired, the women holding the RGP went down. The RGP hit the car, it was enveloped in a ball of flame. Both passengers were thrown from the car as it tumbled in the air. Harry was on the radio as Scott watched the man and woman on the road. The man was crawling to the woman. Scott was amazed that he was still alive. When he made it to the woman, he collapsed. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** John saw the rocket coming, but couldn't swerve in time. It hit the grill dead center. The explosion blew the doors off and John and Millie tumbled out. It hurt, it hurt so bad. Pain, unimaginable pain, but he had to get to her. She was lying still, her eyes open, tears streaming down her smoke covered cheeks. John crawled. And crawled some more. He finally made it to his wife. She was crying. Her breath catching in her throat. John places his blistered hand on her stomach. "I love you," he whispered. "Forever." "It hurts so bad," Millie croaked. "I love you, too, forever." They both heard the pounding feet approach. They both saw Don and Janice bend over them. Then blackness closed in as both their eyes closed and the pain disappeared. "Oh god no," Janice shrieked collapsing to her knees. Sammy Teller was at their side, he was a trained medic. He felt for a pulse on both John and Millie. He looked up at Don and shook his head, leaned back and crossed himself. The rest of the family arrived, weeping and crying. Hank was on the phone to Jack and Doris. He told them they should hurry over. A man in a ghillie suit walked up to Don, head hanging, tears flowing down his cheeks. "I got her, but not in time." "That's okay Scott. She got the drop on all of us today," Don said to Scott as he walked down the road to the bush Gabby Salazar was lying in. When he got there, Don pulled the body out onto the street. The back of her head was missing and there was a small hole in her left temple. Don went through her pockets, pulling out pieces of paper and keys. She had no ID on her. "Here, go find the car," Don told Scott tossing him the keys. "Steve, call the county coroner and Bill Hudson. Tell them to get up here, quick." Steve pulled his cell from his pocket and even though tears flowed down his cheeks his voice was harsh as he spoke to Bill and then the Coroner. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** The trial of Alejandro Salazar and his two accomplices went on as scheduled. Their lawyer, Javier Mendoza, argued that the witnesses were not available for cross-examination, therefore the case should be dismissed. Steve argued that under Shultz v. The United States of America, that the witnesses statements and videotaped depositions were admissible and the hearsay exception applied. The judge found in favor of Steve. The trial was short and sweet, all the men were found guilty of their crimes. Salazar was also found guilty of conspiracy to commit murder. All three were sentenced to fifty years in prison. Salazar was also sentenced to death. Javier put up a huge stink until the U.S. Marshalls dragged him out. **~~~ Ooo, Ooo, Ooo ~~~** The funeral was held graveside in the backyard of the Sterling house. John and Millie's will left the house to the two sisters

and their husbands. The whole town turned out to bid them farewell. The skies were overcast and threatened rain. As the family sat listening to the preacher extol the virtues of both John and Millie a man bent to whisper in Carol's ear. "If only the bitch had dropped the charges?" Carol stood, turned, pulled a revolver from her purse and shot the man dead. A hush came over the crowd. Bill Hudson was there and turned over the dead man. It was Javier Mendoza. "Bill, if you like, I can handle this," Don said, his arm around Carol's shoulder. "No, I'll take care of that scum. You stay here with your family, lay your brother and sister to rest. My deputies can dump this crap in the desert." "Thanks, Bill," Carol said, kissing him on the cheek. And the White Winged Dove cried. **# # The End # #** Kevin had been trying to keep his hands off of her all day, she was wearing short shorts, his tee shirt and for some reason she was irresistible. She smiled at him as she climbed into the car, their eyes met and it drove him crazy. Each and every time she moved, smiled at him, or laughed at one of his not-so-funny jokes he wanted her more. The GPS said they'd be at her place in forty-five minutes, he couldn't wait more then five. The clock said 12:30 in large red numbers, it was getting late, he wouldn't be able to stay at her place very long. He gazed longingly at her, she was watching the street signs fly by out the passenger side window. Kevin saw an opening, a dirt road leading back to an abandoned electrical field, perfectly hidden by over-grown trees. "Where are we going?" Lucy asked as he made a quick turn down the unfamiliar road. He only smiled at her, a loving smile that sent chills up and down her spine, making her want him. The road was bumpy and long, leading them into an odd field riddled with antennas and other steal devices. He shot a daring look her way as he turned off the car, she accepted his dare with a small sexy grin. They climbed into the back of the car and immediately began to kiss, slowly, lightly, then quickly, hungrily until they could no longer stand the tension in the air. His lips tasted of sweet juice, hers of cherry chap stick. It did not take them long to begin removing articles of clothing, shoes, socks, shirts, pants, underwear... the fabric was thrown all over the car with no thought to the searching they would have to do later before rejoining the world. She had been longing to have him enter her ass ever since she had finally fit her entire butt plug in without a problem. Lucy knew that he would be proud of her, and that he would find it unbelievably sexy that he could enter her when ever he wanted without causing her pain. He was rock hard and wanted to fuck her senseless. He opened her legs and started to slid inside of her wet awaiting vagina. "No." His head shot up and he looked quizzically into her eyes. "Not there..." She said smiling. "But we don't have lube..." He said sadly, wanting her and now that he knew what she wanted he wanted that even more. "My purse. I have it with me, so my mom wont find it." He reached into the front seat and retrieved her purse. He ripped in open and dug for the coveted white tube. She turned so that she was on her hands and knees to give him a easy access. He squeezed the lube onto his hand and began to message it around her rectum. She could feel every muscle in her body relax as his fingers moved around, and into her. "I want you." She whispered into the still air. He leaned forward and kissed each of her soft smooth ass cheeks. "Are you ready?" He was scared of making her hurt by not allowing her body enough time to prepare its self for what he was about to do. "Yes..." She moaned with longing for him. "...yes..." She pushed herself towards him, hoping to speed up the process. He was teasing her and it wasn't nice. Kevin squeezed out another glob of lube and slathered it onto his long hard dick, stroking it up and down, making it wet. He got onto his knees and began to rub the head of his penis around her tight waiting ass-hole. She pushed herself backwards toward him. He still worried about hurting her but she was so eager that he had to take her word for it. He pushed the very tip of his manhood into her and it slid in surprisingly easily. Encouraged he pushed farther to the soundtrack of her low moan until he got the entirety of himself into her. She moved closer to him, making his dick go as far into her a she could. "Wow..." He groaned. "You are really worked out." Lucy just smiled and although he couldn't see her face she didn't say a word, she couldn't. Her entire body was tingling, and when he began to thrust harder and farther into her she could no longer hold back. A low moan escaped her throat, which turned into a high pitched scream. She continued to push back onto him, forcing him deeper inside of her. He pumped in and out of her, watching her grip the seat below her until her knuckles turned white. Being in her ass like this gave him a sense of accomplishment, she was so smooth and tight. Every time she moved or clamped down on his dick he wanted to go farther, deeper, harder. Her squeals of joy made him go faster and deeper inside of her. He could feel himself begin to tingle and knew that a climax was not far behind. Determined to make her orgasm also he reached around her waist and began messaging her wet clitoris. Her noises began to grow, she could feel her entire body relax and tense at the same time. Just as his load exploded inside of her she experienced an explosive orgasm, leaving her wetter then she had been in a long time. Panting they collapsed into the seat, him on her back. After a minute Kevin lifted himself up slightly and pulled Lucy into his arms, for a few moments they laid together in bliss catching their breath. A small engineering factory, April the first, just after half past one in the morning. Three men are just sitting down, taking a half hour mid shift break. Two are old friends and have worked together for twenty years, the other in his first year of employment. "Every time I've looked at you for the last couple of hours, you're either looking at the clock or your bloody phone, it's four and a half hours 'til clocking out time, you on a promise or something?" "No, I reckon it'll be a couple of weeks before I get any if my revenge has worked." Colin answers with a grin. "Oh yeah, it's all fools day, getting your own back for last year I suppose, come on, what have you done?" "Nah, keeping it to myself for now, it should have happened an hour ago so I thought she would have been on the phone by now to chew my bollocks off. "What did she do to you last year?" asks the teenager. The two older men burst into laughter just as the canteen door opens. "Here Col, there's a couple of coppers outside, they're saying they have to talk to you and you're going to have to go with them," another man says, poking his head through the doorway. "Fuckin' hell, she's got you strippers." Alan says still laughing. "Don't think their strippers Col, not unless your missis thinks you're a secret shirt lifter, besides, they ain't in uniforms." Colin is no longer laughing, feeling concerned he makes his way to the factory entrance, Alan begins relating the tale of last year's prank played on Colin by his wife. "You know that VX800 he sold just after you started working here. Well he had it stripped and were just putting it back together. He'd done the gearbox and were just lifting one of the barrels on when Monica, bless her, walks in with a dry powder fire extinguisher and lets him have it. Stupid bloody thing to do but the silly bitch did it." Getting a puzzled look from the young man, Alan continues. "If you've never seen one of them set off you're lucky. That shit goes every fucking where. He was sooo pissed off, it took him days to get his garage usable again and then he had to strip the engine down again. Fuck me I think he must have got more blowjobs in the month afterwards than he'd had for as long as they've been together." Alan sniggers, "once he managed to stop the powder getting inside his drawers, which must've been about a week after he got the engine back together." Outside Colin, convinced that this is a prank, manages to negotiate with the two men that he follows them to the police station. Although unconvinced they are real policemen, he rides to the station, his concern growing as he gets nearer to the destination. He is taken through to an interview room almost immediately, as he is led through a number of corridors and hallways he is certain he catches a glimpse of his wife being shown through another doorway. His relief when they confirm it was her is apparent. Eventually he finds himself in a small room with no windows, he is told to sit and he asks again what is happening, one of the men asks him why he did it. Thinking that his wifes prank has panicked his wife and she had called the police, he is now certain the prank has been misunderstood and starts to explain about his wife's prank with the dry powder extinguisher. Once he is finished with his tale, he is asked whether a poisonous bomb is an appropriate response. "Huh? What do you mean poisonous? It was only flour." "But it wasn't flour, was it Mr Bull." "Yeah it was, I got it out of the Tupperware™ container in the kitchen cupboard." The two police officers mutter a conversation and one of them leaves the room. Colin Bull and the other officer sit in silence until he returns, again they mutter a conversation and one of them queries, "Are you telling me you were unaware what type of flour you used?" "Well no, it was some gluten free shit she bought to use a while back and I didn't think we ever used except once a couple of years ago, because her mother got the shits for a couple of days and convinced herself that she had developed a gluten allergy." "Yes, but what kind of flour?" "Haven't got a clue, she used it once for yorkies, they were horrible, as far as I know she's never used it since," he says, "shit twenty years ago nobody knew what gluten was unless they were a celiac now there's more people with so called gluten allergies than there are hay fever sufferers. I think it's all bollocks." "It was peanut flour Mr Bull." "Yeah, that's another one of these so called allergies that's become a fad, you know some schools have banned peanuts because some little shitbag might get a rash. Shit we never had any of that when I was a school, you two too no doubt. No, now you come to mention both of them together, that's it isn't it? People start thinking they have a peanut allergy so the peanut market suffers, so they retaliate and have a go at the flour market by pushing what was a very rare and real condition to get sales for imitation flour made from nuts. That or vice versa." "That's all very well Mr Bull, but putting ridiculous conspiracy theories aside, why did you choose to use the peanut flour instead of regular flour?" "Because it was there and was just taking up cupboard space, because as far as I'm concerned it was fucking useless." "Do you know Mr Richard Small?" "Dickie Small, yeah unfortunately, what's he got to do with this?" "You say unfortunately, why is that?" "Yeah, as if you haven't checked, well about fifteen years ago he was sniffing around my missis and he wouldn't leave her alone so I gave him a slap... or two." "A slap or two, really Mr Bull, a broken collar bone and two broken ribs is hardly a slap or two." "Look I really only hit him three or four times, I didn't know he would break so easily, but that was years ago." "But you're not on good terms now." "No," Colin says emphatically. "Are you aware of his allergy to nuts?" "Nooo," he says as realisation begins to dawn, "Are you telling me that bastard has been fucking my wife?" "Are you saying you knew nothing of their relationship?" "No I fucking didn't," he shouts angrily, "Is the cheating slag still here? Cos if she is, make sure she knows to get herself and her shit out of my house, or I'll be coming straight back here." "Calm down Mr Bull, I will ask you again, were you aware of your wife's affair with Mr Small?" "No I wasn't, if I was; you would have me down here for fucking murder, I'd have killed the cunt." "Mr Bull, that is precisely why you are here." "What? Are you saying the slimy cunts dead?" "Yes Mr Bull and you are responsible." "What? The flour? That killed him?" "It would seem so Mr Bull." "Hahahahah, hahahah, hahahah, tell me, was it painful, hahahaha?" "Yes Mr Bull, his skin blistered, it would have felt like he was being burned alive, his skin, his lungs, in-fact anywhere his body came into contact with the flour." "Hahaha, thank you, that's really cheered me up." Talking over Colin's gleeful laughter one of the cops asks, "Mr Bull, do you not realise the seriousness of this?" Nodding his understanding he continues laughing, "Hahaha, fuck me, that makes my day, it almost makes up for being married to a cheating slag, maybe I won't throw her arse out... Really? The cunts dead and he died an agonizing death, oh that's fucking brilliant." So Mr Bull, for the record, you are telling us that you did plant a flour bomb, but your reasons were just an April fools prank on your wife and not to intentionally do harm to your wife's lover?" "Yes, hahaha, that's it." "In that case Mr Colin Bull I arrest you on the charge of manslaughter, you do not have to say anything but should you choose to do so anything you say can and will be taken down and maybe used against you in a court of law." Epilogue The case made the national news. At the inquest, Colin showed no sign of remorse and although chastised several times for laughing during Monica's deposition, especially her description of Richard Small's skin blistering and his screams of agony, a verdict of death by misadventure given and no charges brought.. Tired of daily presents of peanuts from her neighbours and co-workers Monica moved and changed jobs, A thrash metal version of the children's song, "found a peanut" with slightly altered lyrics reached number two in the charts. Colin and Monica were divorced soon after. 2 hours. This fucking meeting has gone on for two hours. Why did I get myself into this? I can't say no, that's my problem. That and my wife is always volunteering me for things. Now I'm the fucking HOA President. Great. There's really only one thing makes this bleak job bearable. That one thing is named Tracy. So its less of a thing and more of a who. Tracy is the management company's representative. She attends all the meetings and corresponds with me regarding any neighborhood business. She's in her mid-30s and raven black hair that usually wears up. Usually when we meet its late in the week and late in the evening. She always looks put together, but by this time of night, usually a couple of strands of hair fall out of place and frame the left side of her face. I love when that happens because she usually ends up brushing it back over her ear. She has a pale complexion which contrasts the dark hair perfectly. Her red lips are always perfect and never out of place. Its obvious she takes her time and does the lipstick the right way. She takes the same care on all her makeup. The rouge on her cheeks is perfectly blended and she always wears dark eyeliner which make her crystal blue eyes pop. Today she was wearing a pencil skirt and a white blouse with black pinstripes. I also knew she was wearing a black lace bra. I knew because this particular blouse was tight, especially around her ample bosom. Anytime she would twist to talk with other board members, the buttons were pulled tight and allowed a small peek through her shirt. She wasn't aware of it and nobody else was in the right position to notice. But I noticed. I'd sit through a hundred meetings if I could sit across from her. After the meeting adjourned we all stood up and I was able to admire her figure better. Her proportions were nearly perfect. I imagined her in a sports bra and yoga pants with her hair in ponytail as she worked out in the gym. Her skin was glowing as she perspired, fighting to reach her daily workout goal. The image flashed and was gone just as fast. God she looked good. As usual after the meeting, I helped her carry her mounds of paperwork to the car, where we made small talk for a while and she would flash that incredible smile at me. Either she was born with good genetics or she had a great orthodontist, because her teeth were white and straight. Everything about her was perfect and in place. She was intoxicating. Eventually I smiled at her and said goodbye, I had to get home to my family. I would always say things like that. I would become Captain Boring as I was told long ago. Whenever you have the urge to flirt more or desired to be with a woman other than your wife, make sure you talk about your kids and your wife and the women would run away. Damn conservatism. Sometimes I hated living in the Bible Belt. The only other good thing that came out of the meeting was the assurance that both my kids would be in bed when I got home. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids and my family. I really do; but lately.... I don't know. It could have been a midlife crisis or it could have been exhaustion. I would have fantasies of what it would be like if I hadn't gotten married and had kids. What would my life look like? Would I have a killer home theater and wet bar that I could indulge in at my discretion? Would I come up with a different woman every weekend? I'd actually probably just be alone and watch TV and stay up to late. I pulled in the garage and closed the garage door from the clicker. I closed my eyes one last time before I got out and imagined Tracy in that black lace smiling at me...savouring the idea. It only lasted a moment before it rushed out of my head. It was getting harder these days to even keep my fantasies and thoughts in order. Life's exhaustion was hitting me in every area of my life. I put my bag down by the door and trudged upstairs. The kids were asleep and my wife was already in bed flicking and swiping her tablet with her fingers. She said hi to me without looking up and asked me how the meeting was. I told her it was fine and walked into the bathroom. To be honest, my wife was still attractive after a dozen years of marriage. She was short and still thin. Childbirth added a few extra pounds and things weren't as tight as they used to be, but she still turned heads. I know some guys wives who were knockouts, but blew up after kids. That would have killed me. I brushed my teeth and put on my pajamas and walked out of the bathroom. I told my wife I had to finish up some work before I turned in. She looked up for the first time and said OK and blew a kiss to me then went back to her tablet. I fucking hate that thing. When I was a kid I couldn't wait for the next piece of tech. I remember the birth of the cell phone and mp3 player. I remember when smartphones revolutionized the world and I was all in! Now, nobody pays attention to the world around them except through that damn phone or tablet. Oh well, I was going to be working at my computer anyway. Hypocrite. I went to my cabinet in the back of my office and grabbed a glass and my favorite single malt. That stuff was expensive too, my wife never knew I bought it. She would have thrown a fit. If I spend anything she throws a fit. Too bad, I needed this. I work my ass off. Don't tell me I have to live in poverty, saving for my retirement all the time. I sat back in my chair and savored the smoky vanilla taste as I let my mind wander. I didn't really have work to do, but I enjoyed the peace of being alone. I didn't sneak off to do work often, but after every HOA meeting I did. The work was usually fantasizing about Tracy though. Like I said earlier, it was harder and harder work to fantasize. I used to be able to create and direct movies in my head at a moment's notice. I create characters, usually varying female characters depending on my mood or which woman I saw at the store that day. I was able to imagine a reality where I was the center of it all and controlled everything. It was good to play God. Lately though it was just flashes, snapshots of what happened. Like looking back at pictures from a party and going, oh yea, I remember that. The scotch helped a little. It helped me relax at least. It took a while, but finally I was able to hold an image of Tracy in my head. She looked just like she did when I saw her, except much less clothing. The black lace was still there with stockings, garters, and heels. She had her hand on her hip and was nibbling on her finger while she looked up at me. She was smiling around her finger. She seemed generally happy to be near me. I watched as her chest heaved, her luscious breasts bounced as she slowly walked toward me. Her eyes were playful, with just a hint of lust on the edges. She brushed one of the straps off her shoulder and reached behind her to remove her bra for me. She knew what I wanted to see. She moved her hands back to her breasts, holding her bra in place. Slowly letting it slide down. I looked up into her eyes, the lust was there now. I don't know how to explain it, but I fantasized on her eyes the most. That cool blue iris cut me deep and she was practically fucking me with just her look. I glanced down to her chest where the bra was almost down and felt the rush hit me as I came. Then the image flashed out of existence. Fuck. Everytime. I don't know why but I never last long enough for her to get her bra off. God I was a sorry piece of work. I can't even get my fantasies right. Now I was even more frustrated and I just finished the one thing that could fix that. So I opted for the second thing that could and refilled my scotch glass. I sat back in my chair and idly tapped the mouse and my computer whirred to life. I sat back and checked my usual news and internet sites. Scrolling randomly through the pages, clicking every once in awhile on one labeled NSFW...or not safe for work. Some were good, most were dumb. Tastes had changed since when I was young. Incest was everywhere, I never got that. What happened to just liking a beautiful, strong woman for who she was? Why go make it weird. Kids these days. Damn, I am getting old. Before I knew it I was thirty pages deep and my scotch was empty. I held it upside down and tried to get every last drop out before setting it aside. I went to close my browser and go to bed, but my mouse was hovering on a link that looked interesting. It was titled, "Dream Walking". I clicked on it, more out of curiosity than anything, and began reading. It turned out to be interesting, actually. It was like a glorified lucid dreaming, learning to control your dreams and create your reality. Go back into that one arena where you could do anything, control everything. That reality where you could play God. Which was an interesting thought. More philosophical than scientific. Playing God. Creating a reality that you controlled completely. Which the late night and two scotches had me thinking of if my life was someone else's dream. God's dream...whoever that was. Anyway, this seemed to be the answer to my problem, at least for now. It looked like a way to control of my fantasies again.

The morning had passed quietly and quickly at the Pink Lady Boutique and that suited Alice Parks just fine. The twenty- one-year-old had spent so much time the previous week concentrating on finals that she had fallen behind on her responsibilities at the store. With classes having ended the day before, Alice was grateful for the chance to catch up. Standing high on a ladder as she put away some boxes that had been delivered earlier, Alice didn't react when she heard the chimes that rang when the front door opened. Instead, she waited a few seconds to see if Louise Bradley, the storeowner came out of the back room. It was only when she failed to hear the older woman's voice that she acknowledged whoever had walked in. "I'll be right with you," Alice said as she pushed the last box to the back of the shelf and started to climb back down. "Take your time," a strong but definitely female voice replied. Reaching the bottom of the ladder, Alice took a moment to brush her platinum blonde bangs out of her eyes and sweep her long ponytail back over her shoulder. Putting on her best "can I help you" smile, she turned to greet her patient customer. Whatever words she had planned to say next never came out of her mouth. As soon as she turned all the way around and took in the woman standing in front of the counter, Alice was stunned into insensibility. Fortunately, Louise chose that moment to reappear from the back room and, with a broad smile on her face, greeted the customer instead. "Welcome to the Pink Lady," the fifty-two-year-old brunette said in a cheerful voice. "What can we do for you today?" The woman that had so stunned Alice stood at least three inches above the blonde's own five-foot-six, with short cropped black hair that couldn't have been more than a half- inch in length. She had a muscular build, but more in the line of a conditioned athlete than a bodybuilder. A bust just large enough to be impressive filled the tight fitting, sleeveless black t-shirt that she wore, along with an equally tight pair of dark blue jeans. She looked to be in her early thirties but had such flawless features that the quick estimate could've been off by as much as a decade. Around her upper left arm was an arm band tattoo consisting of a linked chain, broken every few inches. Since a majority of the Pink Lady's clientele were lesbians or bisexual women, the woman's appearance really wasn't that much out of the ordinary. Still, it had been a very long time since Alice had been so smitten that she couldn't even talk. It was almost a minute before she could even focus on the conversation the woman was having with Louise. "So we would really appreciate it if we could put one of the placards in your store window," Alice finally heard the woman say. Reluctantly, Alice took her eyes off the woman and tried to read the large cardboard sign that rested atop the counter between her and Louise. Reading what she could of it upside down, she saw that it was an announcement of a new club opening just a few blocks away. "Hmmm," Louise said as she lifted the poster and, turning it right side up, bringing it to eye level. "I don't see why not. I'm always happy to see new business in the neighborhood, especially ones run by women." "Thank you very much," the woman said as she smiled at Louise. "And if you like, I'd be happy to give you a couple of passes that'll get you into the club on opening night." "I'm afraid my clubbing days are far behind me," Louise smiled back. "My lady and I are usually in bed by the time the ten o'clock news comes on." "I find that hard to believe," the dark haired woman laughed, thinking that if they were in bed by ten, it wasn't to watch the local news. "But I think Alice here might like to go," Louise responded, directing both of their attentions to the younger woman. "I'd... I'd love to," Alice stammered out after a moment's hesitation. "Well we're opening next Friday night," the woman who finally repeated her name now that Alice was listening. "Do you know where the White Rabbit used to be?" "Over on Jefferson, right?" Alice asked. "That's the one," Simone said. "My friends and I, actually more my friends than I, I'm just sort of helping out, have taken over the lease for the property and have just about totally redone the club. They're calling it Wonderland and they've already booked some great bands for the opening. It should be pretty awesome." "It was a shame about the fire they had there last year," Louise noted, "but thankfully it was all property damage and no one got hurt. I'm glad to see it being reopened. There are few enough clubs for girls to go to and have a little fun without being harassed." "It's not too late to change your mind about going," Simone Kent said, shifting her attention back to Louise. "No thank you." "Did you ever go to the White Rabbit?" Simone asked Alice as she shifted back to her once again. "If so, you're really going to be surprised at all the changes they've made." "Is that really the question?" Alice thought. "Or are you asking in a roundabout way if I like girls? Just because I work here doesn't make that a given. Jenny Collinwood works both here and at a lesbian bar over on 3rd and she's as straight as they come." "I've been there a few times," Alice answered, wishing that when she'd gotten dressed this morning that she'd put on one of the lesbian oriented shirts that she'd bought with her employee's discount. The blue blouse with the cute panda bear over her breast just didn't say gay girl here. Nor was the fact they she'd gone to the White Rabbit confirmation either. On any given night, at least a third of the girls there had been as straight as Jenny. "Well then, I hope to see you there," Simone replied as she again thanked Louise while she scribbled a quick note on the back of a business card before handing it to Alice. Watching her exit the small store, Alice couldn't help but think that the view from behind was just as impressive as the front. It took her a few moments to realize that she was staring at the door long after it closed, and that Louise was staring at her. "What?" Alice asked, her face showing a look of innocence. "You really have to ask?" Louise asked in turn, a look of amusement on her own face. "I thought I was going to have to hose you down the way you couldn't take your eyes off of her." "Come on, don't you think you're exaggerating a little?" Alice insisted. "She took me by surprise when I came off the ladder, that's all." "Sure, I believe that," Louise laughed. "That's why if you actually wore panties, you'd have to go in the back and change them right about now." Alice blushed because that was certainly all too true. "Hmmm," she said instead, imitating Louise as to change the subject, "what should I wear to the opening?" Not to let the subject pass so easily, the older woman reached for one of the shirts on the side counter and held it up for Alice to see. "This would probably be suitable," Louise grinned. Written across the black shirt, in large white letters, was the phrase "I'm just here to get laid." -=-=-=-= The following Friday night came quick enough and in the end, Alice decided on a non-descript blue dress that, while it did show off her best assets, didn't scream slut either. When she showed up at the club, she was initially taken back by the long line of women waiting to get it. If it weren't for the small card in her hand, Alice would've turned around and headed back home. As it was, it still took almost twenty minutes to work her way to the front of the line where two tall, muscular women, one white and one black, guarded the entrance to the new club. Given the number of, at least in her opinion, hot women that the guardians of the gate had already turned away, Alice had begun to wonder if, even with the card, would they let her in? She needn't have worried because as soon as they saw the signature scrawled across the back of the card, they couldn't open the chain link barrier quick enough. Much to the vocal disappointment of many of those around her that had so far been denied access. Once inside the hallway entrance, Alice could see that Wonderland bore little, if any, resemblance to the White Rabbit. The club had been totally renovated, not just fixed up a little where the fire had done damage. At a glance she could see that both the bar and the dance floor had been expanded, as well as the inclusion of a row of privacy booths on the far wall. Later she would learn that additionally, a number of private rooms had also been added on the second floor. Crowded as the club was, Alice had no idea how she was going to find Simone. Or if she, despite what she'd said, was even going to be there. She thought about it as she made her way to the bar and finally decided that she would just concentrate on having a good time, Simone or no Simone. "What can I get you?" a tall, rather powerfully-built brunette asked from behind the bar. "Just a beer I guess," Alice smiled, thinking that it was much too early in the night to have anything stronger. "Coming right up, precious," the bartender said, returning Alice's smile. Bending over to reach down into what Alice assumed was a built in cooler, the brunette managed to give the blonde a good long look at the not unimpressive cleavage that filled the white t-shirt she was wearing. Placing the frost- covered bottle in front of her, she said that the first one was on the house. "My name's Cleo," the bartender said with an even broader smile, "just in case you'd like to know." Alice watched as Cleo turned to take care of another new arrival at the bar. She too ordered just a beer but Alice noted with interest that it wasn't offered as a courtesy of the house. Not wanting to seem too interested, Alice turned her attention to the dance floor and the tight mass of womanhood that filled it. She was surprised to see such a broad mixture, so unlike most clubs she'd been to. Age didn't see to be a common factor, nor was any particular physical type. There were women who looked like they should be studying for their high school exams as well as a few who might pass as their mothers. Physical beauty, or at least the narrow definition of it that most gatekeepers seemed to hold hadn't held sway either. If the goal had been to create as varied a cross-section as possible, then they had certainly succeeded. By the time she had finished her first round and had turned to order a second, a different girl had taken Cleo's place, this one a dark skinned and heavily endowed black girl wearing only a bikini top in place of a shirt. All told, there were five women behind the bar at any one time and Alice assumed that Cleo had gone on break. This time she paid for her drink, resolving to take this one a little slower. Giving up her place at the railing to someone else, Alice began to better explore the new club. Over the next forty or so minutes, Alice danced and chatted with a few women, most of which were nice enough but none that she felt a real connection with. Contrary to the shirt Louise had suggested she wear, Alice really wasn't here just to get laid. At least not to jump into the sack with just anyone. It that had been the case, anyone of her dance partners would've sufficed. In Alice's case, there had to be something, something she couldn't always define, but knew how to recognize. After having made her third circuit of the large hall, Alice started back for the bar. She wondered if Cleo was back from her break and more importantly, what time she finished working. She wasn't sure if the two of them could make that connection she was looking for, but so far tonight the bartender seemed the most likely candidate. Unfortunately, when she got back to the bar, Alice found that Cleo had indeed returned from her break but was now drawing the attention of another patron. The girl sipping at her drink and laughing at something Cleo had said was quite pretty, with long red hair that stretched down almost to her waist. Alice watched the two of them for a few minutes, deciding that Cleo had already found what she was looking for. "Story of my life," Alice sighed. "I let too many chances slip by while I keep hoping for Ms. Right to come along." Returning to the dance floor, Alice began to just enjoy herself, moving from partner to partner and at times just dancing by herself. The two beers she had downed had kicked in just enough for her to relax and begin to have a good time. She was on her fourth dance partner when someone behind her asked if she could cut in. The girl who had been in Alice's arms had been perturbed at the intrusion at first, but upon seeing the woman standing behind Alice, quickly said it wasn't a problem and stepped away. It happened so fast that Alice wasn't even sure what had happened. "Well welcome to Wonderland, Alice," Simone said with a soft voice and even softer smile as she slipped into the arms the other woman had just vacated. "I'm sorry I'm so late but it couldn't be helped." "That's okay," Alice said, returning the smile and thinking to herself that now that she felt Simone's arms around her, anyone one else she'd met tonight was certainly going to be second best. "There was a presentation at the sch...at my job that ran a lot later than I thought it would," Simone explained, the two of them having come to a complete halt as she made her apology. "Then I had to rush home to change and I was in such I hurry I tossed on the first thing in my closet. I hope you like it?" The outfit that Simone had just tossed on, Alice thought, made her look even hotter than the one she'd worn into the shop last week. Brown leather pants hugged her long legs as well as the cheeks of her ass, complementing the matching vest that went with it. Thin leather laces held the top tightly against her bust, leaving a gap in the center wide enough to give anyone who cared to look an unimpeded view. "It's spectacular," Alice gushed, hoping she wasn't being too obvious at the way she was staring at Simone's breasts. "Shall we dance?' Simone asked as, not really waiting for an answer, she led Alice out onto the center of dance floor. As they moved to the music, Alice felt like the gaze of every woman in the club were on them. Looking up into Simone's dark eyes, she felt herself being drawn deep inside. The most casual touch of the older woman's hand sent a delightful shiver through her body and when her face drew close enough for Simone's lips to brush against her cheek, Alice thought she was going to lose it right there and then. Twice more their lips came close but never connected. Each time filling Alice with a sense of disappointment. It wasn't until the music stopped that Simone reached up, brushed back Alice's hair, and then kissed her. The press of Simone's lips on hers sent an exhilaration racing through Alice, one that caused her entire body to tingle. She parted her lips as she felt the press of Simone's tongue, her heart skipping a beat as it slipped between them to caress her own. The music had started up again but the two women didn't seem to hear it, nor did they seem to notice the crowd around them any longer. All that they heard was the beating of each other's heart, all that they felt was the warmth of each other's touch. "My apartment is only a ten minute ride from here," Simone said quietly, holding Alice's hands in her own. Alice nodded her head in agreement, not trusting herself to speak. Releasing one hand, Simone quickly led Alice back across the crowded floor, quickly reaching a half hidden door by the side of the bar. One of the bartenders glanced in her direction as she reached for the handle, then just turned and went back to what she was doing when she recognized the leather clad woman's face. The door led to a short corridor and a second door at the end of that led to an alley behind the club. A half-dozen cars were parked in the alley, watched over by another of the club's employees. Simone led Alice to a dark green convertible, then paused and looked back at the blonde. "Hmm, we're going to have to do something about that dress," she said. The comment confused Alice until she looked again at the car and realized that Simone hadn't been leading her to it, but to the red and gold motorcycle parked behind it. She didn't know the first thing about them, but it looked fast and powerful just sitting there. Much like its owner, she thought. "I guess I could bunch it up between my legs," Alice suggested as Simone took one of the helmets tied down on the back of the bike and handed it to her. "That should work," Simone replied, "we're not going far." With helmet in place, Alice pulled up the bottom of her dress and climbing onto the back of the bike, bunched as much as she could between her legs. Her lower half was totally exposed and when the wind picked up the still loose edges of her dress, she was sure she would be even more so. But she didn't care who might see her, or the fact that again she hadn't bothered with any undergarments. Once she was sure Alice was securely in place, Simone climbed on in front of her and told her to hang on tight, not that the blonde needed any urging to wrap her arms around her. Coming down on the kickstarter with her weight, Simone brought the cycle to life with a reverberating roar. Simone slowly guided the bike out of the alley and after making sure the path was clear, raced out into the flow of traffic. Alice pressed tightly against Simone's as they darted between cars and trucks, she made a delightful discovery. The pulsating engine between her legs was like a giant vibrator, sending bursts of delight across her body. The only thing she could compare it to was the washing machine she used to sit on during the spin cycle when she was a teenager. Only this time the sensation was magnified tenfold. It was almost a disappointment when she felt the motorcycle slow down as they pulled into the parking lot of the building where Simone lived. If they'd gone another half mile, Alice was certain she'd actually have an orgasm. "First time on a bike?" Simone asked as Alice climbed off the back and removed her helmet. "How can you tell?" Alice asked, then realized the expression on her face probably spoke volumes. "Well it can be an exciting ride," Simone smiled, knowing all too well what had put the smile on her passenger's face. While Alice composed herself and straightened out her dress, Simone walked the cycle into a parking spot where she used a heavy chain attached to a post there to lock down the bike with a combination lock she took out of a compartment under the seats. Looking up at the three-story, gray building in front of them, Alice thought it looked more like a factory than an apartment complex. Simone caught her thought and commented that it had originally been a factory but later converted to living space. "It's a lot nicer inside than out," she laughed. "Come on, I'm sure you'll love it." As if to emphasis her words, Simone stepped forward and kissed her again, her tongue once more carrying the promise of delights to come. Alice's reaction was such that she would've happily followed the other woman if she was leading her into a horse stable. They took what was originally a freight elevator up to the third floor and Simone unlocked the door to one of the three spaces the floor had been sub- divided into. Stepping inside, Alice was surprised to find that the entire apartment was one large room, with a ceiling nearly twenty feet high. Across which ran a brightly painted red girder on which was attached some sort of winch device that had also been painted. Evidently it had been easier to just paint it and leave it as part of the décor than to try and remove it during the renovation. "I never got the chance to even have a beer at the club," Simone said as she headed for the part of the floor that had been turned into a small kitchenette. "Would you like one?" "Sure," Alice replied as she took in the rest of the apartment. A couple of Chinese screens partitioned the remaining space into a living room and sleeping area, with the only real door and wall built around the bathroom. A glance inside that open door showed an old clawfoot tub with a clear plastic shower curtain hanging from a circular rail built into a lower ceiling. "You were right, I do love it," Alice said as she accepted the bottle of beer. "It puts my own little apartment to shame." "A lot quieter here than the club," Simone said, stating the obvious as she took a long pull of her own beer. "It gives us the chance to actually hear what we say to each other." Their bottles quickly emptied, followed by fresh replacements as the two women learned about each other. Simone seemed to dominate the conversation, at least as far as how much each was learning about the other, but Alice didn't seem to mind. It was only when Simone asked if she planned to stay at the Pink Lady in the future or did she have some other goal in mind that she gave pause. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that was a sensitive subject," Simone said when she saw the reluctant look on Alice's face. "No, it's not sensitive, not really I guess," Alice replied, "I just think you might find it a silly dream, that's all." "Try me," Simone countered. "I promise I won't laugh." "Well, I know it sounds impractical, considering what I do now and the kind of life I lead," Alice said, the tone of her voice reflecting the passion she felt for her dream, "but ever since I was small, all I really want to do is teach. I've already got more than half the credits I need to get my certificate and..." "You're kidding," Simone unexpectedly interrupted, trying hard not to laugh at what Alice had said, but only partially succeeding. "I knew you'd think it was a ridiculous idea," Alice said, her face turning a bright red, this time from anger not embarrassment. "Please, I'm not laughing at you," Simone said as she tried to bring herself under control. "I'm just laughing at the... oh hell, this will explain it better than I could with words." With that she grabbed a small plaque off a bookcase and handed it to Alice. Still angry, Alice looked down and read the words on the plaque. Her face cooled and surprise replaced anger. "You're a teacher?" she asked in astonishment. "That's what the plaque says," Simone smiled. "Teacher of the year for 2005 in fact, over at Taylor-Brown Middle School on the West Side. I teach ninth grade history." "I can't believe it," Alice said, "and you teach at Taylor- Brown?" The Taylor-Brown School For Gifted Children, Alice knew, was one of the most exclusive schools in the city and that it had a reputation for only hiring the best teachers, ones that lived up to their impeccable standards. Again taking in the risqué outfit that Simone was wearing, it was hard for the blonde to picture the older woman as part of that faculty. The look on Alice's face told Simone exactly what she was thinking. A broad smile filled the older woman's face as she glanced down at her vest and was reminded how little it covered her breasts. "Trust me, if you saw me a few hours ago at the school's presentation of 'Grease' you wouldn't have recognized me," she smiled as she looked back up. "When I'm at work I'm the epitome of conservative dress." Once, walking past Taylor-Brown on her way to a doctor's appointment, Alice had the opportunity to see the uniforms worn by the school's female staff. They were like something right out of the 1950's, long skirts down to below their knees, starched white blouses that buttoned all the way up to their neck and dark blue blazers. Picturing Simone in one of those, she found it strangely more erotic than the outfit she now had on. "And I only laughed because, ten years ago, you were me," Simone went on. "A woman with a silly dream and certain that no one would even let me try for it." "How?" Alice exhaled, looking down at the award a second time, "How did you do it?" "By knowing what I wanted and not letting anyone tell me I couldn't have it," Simone said as she moved closer. "It's that simple." "Is it?" Alice asked as Simone took back the plaque and dropped back it atop the bookcase. "Yes it is," Simone assured her as she came close enough to slip both her arms around Alice, "and speaking of something that I want." Their lips came together with an urgent passion as Alice knew it was something she had wanted all night as well. -=-=-=-= When their lips finally parted, after what seemed an eternity to Alice, Simone took her by the hand and led her over to a large, oversized daybed set against the side wall. The older woman kissed her again, this time much more briefly, and then took a few steps away from her. "Do you find me attractive?" Simone asked as she ran a hand down across the exposed center of her breasts. The answer to the question was obvious, but she wanted to hear Alice say it out loud. "Oh yes," Alice immediately responded. "That's good because I find you very much so as well," Simone went on. "I think I was even more taken by you that day in the shop that you were by me. In fact, no sooner had I stepped outside I found myself wishing I'd asked you out for that night rather than a week and a half later." "I wish you had," Alice replied, very much aware of the beating of her heart, "I've been thinking about you every day since then." "Just during the day?" Simone asked with a smile as she again took Alice's hand in her own and, lifting it to her lips, kissed it softly. "Well, let's just say I did more than think about you at night," Alice blushed. Simone smiled even broader at the remark, picturing Alice in her bed on those nights. "Could you help me with my pants?" Simone asked as she slipped out of her shoes, turning around and backing closer to Alice. "There are two buttons in the back that are sometimes hard for me to reach." Glancing down, and admiring the curves of her ass as she did, Alice quickly spotted the buttons, one on each side of Simone's waist. Once undone, the tight fitting pants became loose enough for the older woman to unzip and slip out of. As they dropped to the floor, the view of her ass cheeks, now covered only by a pair of very thin white panties, drew an even closer examination. "Would you like to do the top laces as well?" Simone asked as she slowly turned to face Alice again. "Very much so," Alice thought but was too embarrassed to actually say. It only took a gentle pull on both ends of the long lace to cause the vest to become undone. The brown leather sides fell free, exposing the full, firm breasts it had been wrapped around. Not overly large, they were nevertheless perfectly proportioned to Simone's body, each capped by a thick, dark brown nipple. Taking a half step back, Simone removed the vest totally, dropping it to the side. Then she moved back to Alice and kissed her again, her hands coming to rest against her still cloth covered breasts, fingers pressing tightly against already erect nipples. "Ooooo," Alice softly moaned as she felt both the dark- haired woman's hands on her mounds and the warmth of her tongue as it slipped far into her mouth. Lips interlocked, tongues darted back and forth as they took each other's measure. Hands roamed up and down each other's body, exploring the softness and in Alice's case, lifting her dress up around her waist. Simone's left hand quickly found its way between Alice's legs, brushing against the tightly trimmed mound found there. "Oh yes," Alice moaned, this time even louder as she felt Simone's fingers slide back a second time, parting her folds and stroking the even more sensitive flesh within. After what to Alice seemed like the longest minute of her life, Simone again stepped back and brought both her hands to her own breasts, squeezing them tightly and rubbing her fingers back and forth across them. She continued to play with them for a few moments as Alice watched attentively, working one hand down the valley between her mounds, across her stomach to the edge of her panties. Alice felt herself growing warm and couldn't help fidgeting, one hand playing with the edge of the belt around her waist and the other gently stroking the exposed flesh of her cleavage. She let out a soft breath as Simone's second hand joined the first and began to slowly slide her panties downward. "Do you like my body?" Simone asked as she stood totally nude in front of the younger woman. Now standing totally still, her fingers brushing against her lips, Alice couldn't find the words to say what was obvious. Instead she closed the small distance between them and place one hand between Simone's breasts. The shock of the flesh on flesh contact was enough to again give her voice. "I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," she said. Simone now took both of her hands in her own and kissed them, once then twice, and finally a third time. "I want you so much," Alice whispered as she lifted her hands to the sides of Simone's face and pulled her closer for a kiss. A kiss that started innocently enough but quickly grew more intimate as she drew Simone deep inside of her, their bodies flush against the other. Their hands exploring their nearness. The dark-haired woman lifted the hem of her dress, stroking the cheeks of Alice's ass and gliding her fingertips down to the precious pearl beneath them. On their embrace went as time stood still, ending only with the promise of more to come. When they finally separated, Simone leaned back on the daybed and dropped her hand between her legs. Slowly she stroked the totally bare mound, sliding and extended finger inside. A second finger followed the first as together they glided in and out of her until they glistened with the fruits of her excitement. All the while, Alice continued to watch with rapt attention, her hands again touching her own body, this time much more blatantly than before. Undoing the zipper of her dress, she lifted it up over her head and tossed it aside, giving her hands unfettered access to her body. She squeezed her larger breasts tightly, working the bright pink nipples until they were even harder than before. Then both hands dropped to between her legs to find a wetness that mirrored Simone's. Moving quite slowly, Alice followed Simone onto the small bed, crawling onto the bottom and working her way toward her. Simone reacted by lifting herself higher to give Alice room to join her, then spread her legs so that Alice could move in-between them. The blonde crawled into the opening, her lips again meeting Simone's. Simone leaned back onto the bed until she was totally prone, Alice followed, never letting the distance between them grow any further. Their bodies pressed together, they kissed once more, repeating the performance of only a short while before. Then Alice moved down to Simone's breasts and lavished the same attention on them that she had on the brunette's mouth. Taking a dark nipple deep into her mouth, the young blonde twirled her tongue around it time and again. The soft moans that spilled from Simone's lips only served to urge her on as she moved back and forth between the identical bounties. Reaching down Alice's back, Simone ran her fingers across excited flesh, coming back along her sides to brush the edges of her larger breasts. Pulsating flesh rubbed together as they shared the softness of their touches and the wetness of their mouths. Almost at the same time, a hand from each found its way to the prize between the other's legs, quickly adding to the rising fires growing in both. Alice began to work her way downward, leaving a trail of deep kissing along Simone's stomach until she found herself off the other woman and back in the space where she had started. Simone again lifted herself higher on the large pillows behind her as her hand again reached down between her legs as in invitation, then moved upward once more to join the other embracing her breasts. It was an invitation Alice was quick to respond to as she kissed first one thigh, then the other, working her way to the moist treasure between. A deep kiss followed as her tongue found its way inside Simone, quickly becoming engulfed in the ambrosia of her womanhood. "Oh yes," Simone said breathlessly as the thrust of her penetration sent a delightful quiver across her body. A pleasing tremor that was soon joined by many others as Alice demonstrated an adeptness beyond her years. The benefit of having a number of more mature lovers and the wealth of experience that they brought with them. It was a lovely surprise for Simone, one which she expressed her gratitude for with cries of delight that grew in both intensity and frequency as Alice went on. The pressure inside Simone continued to build until she knew the dam was about to burst. Her body rocked back and forth as Alice held on to her tightly, actually increasing the intensity of her attentions. That proved more than Simone could bear and she exploded with all of the orgasmic ecstasy she could have imaged, a scream of satisfaction literally bouncing off the walls. Their mouths met once more, amidst shared expressions of contentment. Alice's skill had certainly been a surprise, but then again, Simone had a few surprises of her own. Ones that she was now even more eager to share. Simone spread Alice out on her stomach across the length of the small bed. Starting at the base of her neck and working her way down across her back, she covered the still damp flesh with a multitude of kisses. Her fingers also massaging the supple flesh as she went. Alice watched from over her shoulder as Simone reached her ass and, spreading her cheeks apart, continued the trail of kisses. Using the wetness of her tongue, she worked her way into the tightest and most sensitive of spots, slipping deep inside. "Oh yeah," Alice moaned, reveling in Simone's discovery of one of her secret delights. Equally pleased, Simone continued to give her full attention to her task, working a wet finger, then two into the opening. Alice's cries rose in volume, her actual words not as important as the passion they projected. Passion that Simone reflected as she continued to work those fingers, even as her other hand slipped under Alice's bottom and began to apply equal attention to her more traditional entry. Together they sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body, oscillating ripples that crashed against each other with pre-orgasmic fury. But that was just the appetizer as far as Simone was concerned. She brought Alice to the edge not once, not twice, but three times before she let the level of excitement in her body drop back away from the threshold. Not to worry, she assured Alice as she moved up beside her on the bed; she would get back there soon enough. Her hands cupped Alice's breasts as the blonde arched her head so that she could kiss her. Once more she explored the smaller girl's body, her touch setting every inch of it on fire. By time Simone's hand returned between Alice's legs, the whole area was saturated with sweat and arousal. Her fingers effortlessly moved inside of her, this time all four fingers explored her inner walls as Simone's thumb came to rest on Alice's excited clit. It didn't take long for a practiced hand to fulfill the promise as Alice once more found herself tethering on the edge of the precipice. So began a journey that seemed both timeless and oh too short at the same time. Every part of Alice's body was alive with anticipation as Simone continued to work her own special form of magic. A magic she added to with an immediate and most spectacular result as she shifted position yet again and now combined the skill of her mouth and tongue to that of her hand. A skill that took only the briefest of times to send Alice hurdling into the abyss, her body quaking with uncontrolled ferocity. No one had ever taken her to the place she now found herself. "Omigod!" she called out, her words cut short as for the first time in her life, Alice passed out from the intensity of an orgasm. -=-=-=-= When her eyes again opened, how much later she had no idea, Alice was glad to find she was still lying in Simone's arms. For the briefest of moments, in that time just before fully awakening, she had feared that it all had been a dream. That such an intense experience couldn't have actually happened. "Welcome back," Simone said with the softest of kisses. "Was I gone somewhere?" Alice asked, still a little befuddled. "In a way," Simone smiled. Alice returned the smile, nuzzling more tightly into the arms of her new lover. She wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that, at least not at first. Then it suddenly came to her, exactly where she had been. "I think your friends picked the wrong name for their club," she unexpectedly said. "They did?" Simone replied, confused by the non- sequitur. "Yes, because that place you just sent me," she replied with the happiest of grins, "that was Wonderland!" END

After sharing a couple of bottles of wine, at our favorite restaurant, and deciding we no longer wanted dinner, Abbey and I headed home to do what we normally do after having a few drinks: crawl in bed and fuck. I stood by the bedroom door watching as Abbey undressed. She first removed her shirt and bra, freeing her meaty titties from the restraining cups. They're beautiful. The nipples are the best part. Before she becomes excited, they are a soft pink, and exactly 2 & 5/8 inches across. I know because I have measured them. She also has a well rounded ass, and knows how much I love looking at it. So, when she turned around to take off her pants, and panties, she bent over slowly, and paused, giving me a long glance at her warm little crack. Her entire ass is quite the beauty. I have persuaded her to have anal intercourse a few times, however, it's not her favorite, besides, the way she works her ass, I seldom last very long before cumming. However, I always take advantage of it when she's in that mood. After she finished undressing, she immediately crawled onto bed, putting her head on the stack of pillows that she loves to sleep on. She parted her legs only slightly, and cocked one leg up, as she rubbed her hand across stomach, from her breasts to her smoothly shaved, milky white, mound. Smiling up at me as she, she asked, "Are you going to get undressed?" Like a schoolboy, I began fumbling with my clothes. As soon as I got undressed and into the bed, she wrapped her long slender fingers around my half hard cock and started rubbing the shaft, paying special attention to the head, with her thumb and forefinger. I simply laid back to watch, and enjoy the pleasures. After a couple of moments, reaching up to the headboard, she grabbed one of our small vibrators and began rubbing it across my sack. The sensations were wonderful. I immediately tensed up when she leaned over me and ran her tongue across my balls. "Feel good?" She asked, as she slowly pumped, my inflamed dick, with her red tipped fingers. "You have no idea," I replied, as she continued pumping at me. Reaching down, I pulled her around so that her ass was directly in my face, and started kissing her fleshy bottom. She parted her legs and raised her ass upwards as I placed my face to the swollen lips of her pussy. The fragrance was divine. To me there is nothing better than the scent of a woman's body as it prepares itself for sexual activity. Besides, Abbey tends to emit a unique fragrance that I can always detect when she's ready to fuck. "Mmm, this is wonderful." I said as I pulled her closer, running my tongue from her lips to her anus. One thing I love to do is watch as she's jacking me off, while licking the shaft of my cock. I always get so turned on, that I have a habit of talking trash when we're in bed like this, and tonight was going to be no different. I always seem to fantasize that I'm watching her as she's doing this to another man's cock. We did have that pleasure once before and it was tremendous watching him squirm as she worked him over. "You know, I think we ought to do this with another couple." I boldly said. She sucked for a few more seconds before replying. "Aaron...you always say that when we're at home, and at the worst time," she said, as she continued sliding her fingers around my hard cock. "Another time," she said Of course a man with a hard dick has little or no conscience when he has fucking on his mind, and I was feeling pretty good from the alcohol, so I wanted to do something different tonight. The encounter we had with the other man had been a few years ago, while we were on a weekend trip. We hadn't seriously pursued it since then, but we both figured that it was just a matter of time before it happened again. Besides, the other encounter happened when we were out of town, and was something that just happened. We weren't really looking for it. As I laid there watching her playing with my cock, I suddenly got the nerve to do something that I had wanted to do many times before. "Okay, that's it, let's get dressed." I told her as I sat up and rose from the bed. "What are you doing?" She asked with a puzzled look on her face. "We're going out." I said as I reached for my jeans. "Right now?" She questioned. "What in the hell are you doing?" She asked as she raised her naked body from the bed. "We're going out to have a drink." I replied as I worked to squeeze my swollen cock into my pants. "We're going to see what kind of trouble we can get into." She was caught off guard by my words, but started laughing and slowly crawled from the bed to start getting dressed. As she reached for her bra, I stopped her and said that she wouldn't need it, nor did she need any panties. "Wait a minute, what are you thinking?" She asked as she, again began laughing. "Hey girl," I said as I grabbed for a shirt, "we always talk about playing these games, so, what the hell, let's go out and see what happens." Now, Abbey is, very much, a classy woman, and I figured that if we were going to do this, I better do it right. So, in order to make sure I wasn't too selfish, I decided that, first of all, we better to grab something to eat since we had drank so much wine earlier, and she was probably hungry. Perkins Pancake House was not busy at all on this wet, Friday night. It could have been the fact that it was raining so hard. Normally, from 2:00 AM, until 4:00 AM, it gets busy with the bar crowd, but it only was 10:30 by this time, and I figured we were early enough to miss the crowd, get something to eat, and still find some "trouble" to get into. As we sat in the restaurant, waiting for service, we watched as another couple walked in, with a young lady friend in tow, and the girl behind appeared as if she had been crying. They walked through the restaurant and grabbed a table across the room. They immediately began discussing their situation, and doing it rather loudly. Abbey and I both realized that we knew the girl from somewhere. Our hobby is dining out and we seem to meet, and talk, with lot of people. From what we could tell, as we dipped into their conversation, the guy had just broken up with the girl that was in tow, and had been fucking his girlfriends best friend for quite sometime. The couple, that included the new girlfriend, had just broke the news to the old girlfriend. The new couple seemed to care less what the old girlfriend thought about it as they sat ready to order something to eat. After a few minutes of digesting their problems, Abbey left for the restroom, to relieve herself from some of the wine we had drank earlier, while I continued waiting for some service from a waitress. The disgruntled girlfriend also left her table, and disappeared from sight. Much to my surprise, as soon as the discarded girlfriend disappeared, the new couple hurriedly walked out the door and drove away. Personally, I couldn't help but laugh when I saw what was going on. However, the girl was stranded. It seemed that I had been waiting forever when I finally saw Abbey peaking around a corner, motioning for me to come to her. As I approached her, she told me that the dumped girlfriend, whom she now knew as Leslie, was in the bathroom, crying and seemed to be a bit drunk. She also made me aware that she was, indeed, a barmaid that we see at a local club, periodically. I immediately made her aware that the others had left, and it looked as if this girl was now stranded. Now, Abbey is always the nurturing person to come to the rescue of others, and asked if I would mind if we helped the girl. Naturally, being a man, and considering the reason we left home in the first place, I agreed. "Well...what do you want me to do?" I asked as Abbey stood trying to figure out her next move. "I don't know, let me go back see what she needs." Abbey said as she turned to go back into the ladies room. As I returned to the table to continue waiting for the waitress, I saw Abbey reappear with Leslie following close behind her. She and Leslie were arm in arm as Abbey helped to steady the girls walk. She motioned for me to follow her as she walked to the front door. I immediately rose from the table, and followed as the two girls walked to our car. It was now raining harder than it was when we got there. Abbey, hurriedly, opened the back door, and helped Leslie to get situated in the back seat. She really didn't appear to be too upset as far as I could tell. But then again, who was I to question Abbey's judgment? As I got into the drivers seat, I looked at the two girls to see if they were as soaked as I was. Yes, they were, we were all soaked. I asked Abbey where she wanted me to go, and Abbey turned, looking back at Leslie, asking if she wanted us to take her home. Leslie made us aware that she really didn't want to go home. She didn't want to be alone. She asked if we would mind if she stayed with us for a while. Abbey explained that we couldn't go anywhere as wet as we were, and asked Leslie if she would feel comfortable enough to go home with us. She explained that we lived alone, and she was more than welcome to use our guest room since we had all been drinking, and shouldn't be out driving around. Leslie seemed fine with this idea. After all, we were very well dressed, and didn't appear to be a threat to her or anyone else. Besides, she didn't seem to care much about anything at that point. As I pulled out of the parking lot and started driving towards our place, the skies opened up and it started raining even harder. I finally made it back to our house in about fifteen minutes. There wasn't much conversation on our way home. Leslie did most of the talking, telling us how she had been planning on breaking up with her boyfriend, and what a total jerk he was. Apparently Leslie knew all along the he had been screwing her friend. She didn't really seem to care about losing him as much as she did losing her friend over such a jerk. As we pulled into the garage, and out of the rain, we made our way into the mudroom. Abbey always makes everyone remove their shoes before entering the house. We were all soaked from the rain, and I made my way into the bathroom to take a quick shower to warm up, and change into a pair of sweats and T-shirt. While in the shower, I could hear the girls talking in the bedroom. There was nothing loud, it just sounded like some general, getting to know you conversation, but I naturally had other thoughts. When I returned from the shower and walked into the family room, I saw Leslie sitting on the couch, in one of Abbey's robes. I could hear that Abbey was putting clothes in the washer. I asked Leslie what Abbey was up to, and she made me aware that she was washing the wet clothing. Abbey has that motherly instinct and needs to take care of everyone. Before sitting down, I walked over and turned on our gas fireplace. I figured the heat would help us all warm us up a bit. After all, we were soaked to the bone. When Abbey returned, from the laundry room, she was carrying with her, a carafe of white wine, and three glasses. She too, had changed from her wet clothing into a robe. "I thought this would help us to warm up a bit," she said as she brought the wine in, and sat down on the couch. As we sat talking and sharing some wine with Leslie, I grabbed the TV remote and flipped on one of the music channels. Soft classical music seemed to be right for the somber mood. After all, I didn't want any music that might make her think about her situation any more than she already was. Leslie began questioning herself as to what she had done to cause such a mess in her life. "I know I'm not the prettiest girl in the world, but I'm not a complete loser either," she said as tears began rolling from her eyes. "I'm know too fat for anyone to look at me," she said. Now, let me point something out. Leslie was approximately twenty-five years old with short, naturally blonde, hair. She was a little on the plump side, however, she was as cute as a girl can be. She definitely had a nice pair of tits, from what I could tell through her shirt, and her ass reminded me of Abbey's. It was well rounded, and seemingly firm. It was very nice. She looked as if she still some baby fat, but she was definitely a beauty. Abbey set her wine down on the coffee table and leaned closer to Leslie. As Leslie continued degrading herself, Abbey placed her arm around the young girls shoulder to comfort her. "Leslie, you're a very pretty girl," Abbey said as she pulled Leslie into her shoulder. "Some men are just assholes and don't realize what they have until it's too late," she continued, as Leslie leaned her head on to Abbey's shoulder. Abbey kept her arm around Leslie, and began rubbing her back while she continued talking about how bad she felt. She kept repeating that it was probably her fault that the relationship fell apart because of her looks and selfishness. Not knowing what to say, I continued to sip at my wine and listen. I figured that Abbey was the best person to make this girl feel better about the evening, and herself. After all, that's Abbey's knack. After about fifteen minutes of hearing the girls talking and laughing about men, and the pigs that they are, things got eerily quiet. No one was saying anything, when Leslie looked up, and raised her head from Abbey's shoulder. I sat, silently watching, as Leslie placed fingers to Abbey's chin while looking up at her. As she closed her eyes, she placed her lips to Abbey's face and gently kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you for being so understanding," she said as Abbey looked down into her eyes. Abbey said nothing as she looked down at Leslie's head on her shoulder. Leslie smiled and slowly raised her head, placing her parted lips to Abbey's. I continued watching the girls as Abbey greeted Leslie's kisses with her own parted lips. Leslie reached upwards, placing her hand around the back of Abbey's head, burying her fingers into her thick, black hair. As the two women embraced, I could feel the blood racing to my cock. This was a sight I had seen only in my fantasies. I continued watching as Abbey gently pushed open Leslie's robe. She placed her hand on the young girls meaty breast, then pulled it back so she could run her fingers across the young girls thick, rose colored nipples. Leslie, suddenly took a deep breath and pulled away from Abbey's hand, leaning back onto the deepset couch. She looked directly at me and started to apologize for what she had done. "Oh my God...I am so sorry," she said as she looked between Abbey and myself, "I don't know what came over me." Abbey, immediately, held out her hand to Leslie's to let her know this was not a problem. She told her that she should relax, as she ran her fingers through the top of Leslie's hair. "Everything seems to happen for a reason," she said, "you're a beautiful girl," she continued as she grazed her hand across Leslie's stomach, "and I'm sure that Aaron has no problem with this." Abbey couldn't have been more right about anything in her life. However, I was also nervous as hell at this point. I asked Leslie if she was OK, or if there was anything I could do? She sheepishly, looked to the floor and replied that she was fine, while relaxing underneath Abbey's arm. The silence then returned, and Leslie began running her hand across the top of Abbey's bare leg, from her upper thigh to her knee. I was still in my chair and wasn't sure what to do next as the girls sat beside each other on the couch. I excused myself and went to put Leslie's clothes into the dryer, with the hopes that they would continue with what they started previously. I had to be careful as I stood from my chair. I was wearing only a pair of sweats, and no underwear, so my swelling cock could easily be detected as it pushed forward trying to free itself. Walking into the laundry room, I was hoping that this couple of minutes would take care of the swelling in my groin. It did, however, it still left me about half hard. I just couldn't quit thinking about what I had seen in the minutes prior. Moments later, when I returned to the family room, I saw that the fireplace was now turned off, and the girls had disappeared. Chills ran through my body as I imagined what they were doing, hopefully in the bedroom. I called out to Abbey, "Honey...where are you?" Abbey's voice called to me from the bedroom. "We're in the bedroom Aaron, come back here," she said. My knees shook and my heart was pounding as I walked towards the bedroom. I felt light headed, as if I were going to pass out. Abbey and I had played naked games with another man before, but this was the first time that we had another girl in our bedroom. I wasn't exactly sure how to do this. Should I join them? Should I just watch? I was lost as to the direction to follow. When I entered the bedroom, the flickering from the TV was the only light in the room. Abbey and Leslie were cuddled underneath our large white comforter. From what I could tell, it appeared that Abbey was spooning Leslie, with her body pressed tightly against her backside. I walked to the dimmer switch and turned the lights up, just enough so that I would be able to see everything that was going on. "Do you need the comforter?" I asked as I walked to the foot of the bed. "I think it might get a bit warm." I said as I reached for the blanket. As I slid the blanket off of the girls, I saw that they both had disrobed and were totally nude. Abbey had her arm placed over Leslie, and her hand was cupping her breast. Leslie had large, protruding nipples that were fully erect and dark red, in color. I watched as Abbey, gently ran her fingers across them. The fragrance of pussy was in the room. I know that fragrance only too well, and knew that Abbey was ready to play. As I sat on the edge of the bed, Leslie turned over to face Abbey. She wrapped her leg over Abbey, as she situated her self comfortably beside her. As she raised her leg, I could see the thick, pink lips of Leslie's pussy. She wasn't shaved, however, her blonde pubic hair was neatly trimmed and very short. Her ripe young ass was quite meaty, and tasty looking. As I stood to remove my sweats, my cock popped out, standing straight up. It was harder than it had been for a long time. I could feel it pulse as the blood ran through it. I wasn't sure what I should do next. I wanted to watch what the girls, yet I also needed to play, in order to get some relief for myself. I walked to the side of the bed and watched Leslie's hands slowly rubbing across Abbey's naked back. Abbey had her arms locked around Leslie, and was rubbing up and down, from her head to her plump little ass. I watched as Leslie slid her hand from Abbey's long hair, down to her shaved pussy, sliding a finger between her moist, swollen lips, and inside of her. Abbey's entire body tensed as the young girl slowly fucked her with her fingers. I walked to Abbey's side of the bed and laid behind her, as they played passionately, rubbing their bodies together. As Abbey rolled onto her back, she put her lips to mine and slid her tongue inside of my mouth. I immediately felt Leslie's lips on the side of my face, for only a second, before she slithered herself down between Abbey's legs. As I pulled away from Abbey, I raised up, leaning on my elbow, watching as Leslie spread Abbey's lips with her fingers, while running her tongue between them. Each time she ran her tongue across Abbey's swollen clit, her entire body would tense up. I watched as Abbey's continuously pushed her head backwards, into her pillows, and her pussy upwards to Leslie's tongue. I kept rubbing my cock against Abbey's thigh as Leslie continued eating Abbey's pussy. As Leslie ate away at Abbey, she began rubbing her thigh, making her way to my cock. She circled her fingers around my hardened cock and squeezed, as she pulled. She then pulled her face away from Abbey and leaned over, to take my cock deep into her mouth. Abbey raised her head from the pillows and watched as Leslie ran her tongue across the head of my hard dick. She then changed positions, and along with Leslie, placed her fingers around my blood engorged cock. Leslie raised her head from my dick, and guided me into to Abbey's mouth. She began gently sucking, and running her tongue around the head as I attempted to get it deeper into mouth. I hadn't been this excited in quite sometime, and didn't want to cum yet, so I pulled myself away from Abbey's grip and pushed her onto her back. I began rubbing her stomach and breasts, as Leslie resumed kissing her pussy. She would slip a finger inside of her, periodically, moving it around, while she ate away at Abbey. Leslie began grinding her hips into the mattress, as she took her time eating at Abbey's pussy. Her ass looked so soft as she ground her pussy into the bed. I scooted down and ran my fingers over her fleshy bottom. Her ass was so soft, and so very warm. I slid a finger between her cheeks, feeling the heat that was radiating within her. I rose from the bed and walked behind her, watching as she continued eating Abbey. My cock was standing straight up and I thought that I would enter Leslie from behind. She spread her legs as I rubbed against her inner thighs. She raised her ass from the bed for me to enter her. As I pressed my cock against her warm, thick lips, I stopped as I realized that I hadn't placed a condom on myself. I then placed my cock lengthwise between her cheeks and began pumping to feel the warmth of her ass against my cock. I felt as if I were going to explode as I pumped my cock back and forth between her cheeks. Within moments, Abbey started with her first orgasm. I watched as she tightened her thighs around Leslie's head. Her entire body convulsed with waves of pleasure as Leslie continued with her tongue, at Abbey's clit. After the pleasures of Abbey's orgasm subsided, she laid there for a moment to catch her breath. Leslie crawled back onto the bed to lay beside Abbey. Abbey suddenly sat up, and shoved Leslie onto her back. I watched as she grabbed a small vibrator from our headboard and placed her hands between Leslie's legs to part them across our bed. I walked to the side of the bed and sat watching, as Abbey began running the vibrator across the lips of Leslie's pussy, and running her fingers through her short, blonde, pubic hair. Leslie reached out for my cock as I watched Abbey working with the vibrator. Abbey was watching as Leslie's fingers encircled my hardened dick. I was again, beginning to feel a bit nervous. This was the first night that Abbey had seen another woman touch me before. I wasn't exactly sure how I should react. Abbey reached for my hand and placed it at Leslie's lips beside the vibrator. She coaxed me as she rubbed my fingers over Leslie's lips. Leslie, in the meantime, pulled harder at my swollen cock. Abbey then handed the vibrator to me and, reached to get another toy from our headboard. She grabbed a latex dildo and a small bottle of oil, and resumed her position at Leslie's pussy. Leslie continued squeezing my cock as I watched Abbey rub a small amount of the oil onto the dildo. She then, took the vibrator from my hand and pushed Leslie's legs even further apart. She ran the dildo between her lips, from her cunt to her anus. Abbey, then slid the dildo inside of Leslie, stretching her lips apart, as she reached for the vibrator. Leslie's body was tense as Abbey took her turn fucking Leslie. However, instead of fingers, she used the dildo. She ran the vibrator across Leslie's lips as she fucked her with the latex dick. I continued watching as Abbey worked Leslie over with her toys. She then turned to me and told me to grab a condom. Immediately, I followed Abbey's instructions. "Put it on!" Abbey said as I tore open the package. I wasn't sure what Abbey had planned, but I wasn't about to ask. After I put the condom on, Abbey turned around so her back was now to Leslie's face, and she was looking directly at Leslie's cunt. She continued running across her lips with the vibrator, however, removed the dildo from inside her. "Fuck her!" Abbey said as she spread Leslie's lips with her fingers. I pushed Leslie's legs apart, and Abbey watched as I placed the head of my dick against her wet pussy. Abbey then took my cock between her fingers and rubbed the head between the lips of Leslie's soaked pussy, while she continued with the vibrator. Within seconds, Leslie's legs began to tighten around my waist. My cock slid into her as she convulsed with the vibrations of Abbey and her vibrator. Leslie's legs were so tight that I couldn't have moved if I wanted to. She must have had at least three orgasms as Abbey worked her over with the vibrator. Every time she would relax so that I could start to move my hips, she would again, tighten her legs around me and start convulsing at the hands of Abbey and her vibrator. When Leslie finally pushed Abbey's hands, and the vibrator away, her energy was spent. I pulled her closer to me and wrapped my hands around her meaty ass and shoved my cock in as far as I could. With each thrust, Leslie would meet me, grinding herself against me. Abbey rubbed my back as I continued fucking Leslie. When I looked over at Abbey, she smiled as she watched me fucking Leslie, and pushed my hair away from my face. I immediately pulled my cock out of Leslie and removed the condom. Abbey was looking up at me as I stood over her. I shoved her onto her back and crawled between her legs. I tried desperately to push my cock into her. I had just fulfilled one of my greatest fantasies, and was ready to finish what Abbey and I had started. Abbey, as she normally does, wanted to tease me. She allowed me inside of her, and as I pulled away, she did the same, forcing my cock leave her. She then scooted from underneath me and pushed me onto my back, reaching for the oil. I laid there watching as she poured some into her hand and rubbed it gently over my bright red cock. She began to slowly jack me off as Leslie sat watching her. I was now at the point that I simply couldn't take it any longer. Within a few short minutes, I began spouting semen all over Abbey's hand, as she slowed her pumping, and milked every drop of semen from me. The three of us suddenly stopped all motion, and laid quietly on the bed. The last thing I recall that night, is when Abbey got up to turn off the lights, and crawled back into bed, covering the three of us with the comforter. The next thing I knew, it was daylight, and I was alone in the bed. I could hear the shower running, and looked at the clock to see that it was 10:37 AM. The only question I had in my mind was whether or not Abbey was alone in the shower, or if she had company.

The bead of sweat was so simple yet so fascinating. It rolled and ran like a living thing, navigating the smooth tan skin and exquisite curves of the woman's body. I didn't know where it came from and it didn't matter, all that mattered was its journey. It hastened down the strained muscles of her neck as if it was in a hurry to negotiate the pass between her large breasts. Her chest heaved breathing quickly with anticipation. It mingled with the perspiration quickly slickening her body, never the same liquid but always the same drop. I sped up again rolling down her flat stomach, just as impatient as my mind to reach its end. The bead of sweat had my attention while my subconscious was busy trying to comprehend what was about to happen. I watched it flow down the smoothly shaved road to her pussy. My eyes followed it, willing it to slow down, a little scared to look what was past. The drop's journey ended as it slipped into the cleft beside her clit to mingle with the slick juices her vagina was busy creating. It was a fitting demise for such a fascinating ball of fluid. I was brought back to reality as her ass muscles clenched, squeezing my dick, which I realized excitedly was rock hard. It was buried to the hilt deep inside her most sacred hole. Amy lay on top of me, my hands holding her fabulous breasts as she was squirmed with anticipation. Her ass and vaginal muscles contracted spasmodically with desire. My eyes left the spot my drop disappeared to stare in awe at the object of that desire. It was being pushed, slowly, up and down all over the folds of her very wet pussy. The sticky juices were coating the head of the biggest and blackest cock I had ever seen. Amy moaned loudly with frustration, she already had my dick buried deep in her ass, but I knew she wanted more. She always wanted more. I guess that's how we had arrived at this point in time, not that I didn't have a hand in the situation. I was always turned on by slutty actions and thoughts of a woman, and Amy loved to feel and be slutty. The endless quest to find new dirty things to do in bed, fueled by the people we were, has to culminate in something, doesn't it? Amy always loved the uuhh, bigger things, as evident by the size of the dildos she loved. She always wanted to be filled up, stretched out and to cum all over such a big thing inside her. Not that I didn't like fucking her well used hole afterwards. After a while that just begs to wonder what the real thing would be like. It turned into more of an obsession. To be a slut, to be fucked senseless by a huge black dick, pussy stretched filled with cum, be fucked and cum in by two men at the same time. It had to happen, we both wanted it too bad. So here we are, not that it was easy. Finding a clean, disease free, willing and very well endowed black man was quite a challenge. But here he was, all 225 pounds of him all muscle and a dick to match. He had abstained for weeks saving his seed for the beautiful woman he had only seen pictures of. His cock was truly impressive, the thing scared me, it was huge! It looked at least 12 inches and thicker than my wrist, black as night and pulsating with veins. Now slick with the copious amounts of juice Amy's pussy was producing, she evidently wasn't afraid. She was past that point, only wanting to be a whore, to be fucked. She wanted both of us as once, in the hopes I wouldn't get jealous. I think I was just as excited to see the whole length of that massive dick bury itself in my woman, as she was to feel her pussy stretched impossibly tight around it. And it was seriously about to happen! From here on this account is going to be pretty graphic and detailed, it was quite a crazy night. Amy wants to remember it and how she felt, which if you remember is very slutty. Be warned. Amy had whipped herself into a sexual frenzy, we'd already had to fuck earlier she been so horny all day. With the heat and wetness of her pussy surrounding my dick I whispered all the dirty things we would do later. I told her how beautiful she was, how much I loved my little slut, how bad I wanted to fuck her loose, abused, cum filled pussy when the black man was done with her. With that she came, and so did I, shooting the first load of the day deep inside her body. When he got there things got worse, she was wildly attracted to him and she knew exactly what he was going to do to her. The teasing, the drinking and the slow removal of clothing didn't help either. The black man very obviously wanted Amy bad. He used every opportunity to touch and play with her body. I didn't blame him, brunette, short and petite, nice legs and ass, big tits and tan all over. We were all very horny and by now very naked. Amy was enthralled by the black man's very hard cock, she was having trouble diverting her eyes from it, and the desire was evident in them. Her pussy, which she had no trouble giving the man a good look at every opportunity, was dripping with desire. She was so horny her juices were starting to drip down her thighs, shinning on her tanned skin as it was smeared by her movements. I knew some of it was my cum, and I smiled inwardly. Not being able to help herself she began to play with her pussy giving us a great show as she slid a few fingers in and out of her slick hole. Her fingers came out soaking wet, which she smeared all over my dick. I lay on the bed as she slowly rubbed me with her own pussy juice; she stared at the black man's throbbing dick as she did it. She straddled me facing him and positioned the head of my dick against her ass. Slowly she eased her weight down and moaned loudly never breaking eye contact with the black man as her ass began to spread. Suddenly I felt the heat of her insides as the head of my dick entered her, just as suddenly the whole length of it slide inside her. The slick warmth of her tight hole was almost too much for me, my cock twitched almost filling her ass with huge load I had built up from the anticipation but I fought it back. Amy leaned back and I grabbed her ample breasts. She stared at the black man and spread her legs wide in invitation just like the cock-craving whore she is. He stared at her spread legs and hot wet holes nestled in-between with obvious desire. Amy began to toy with her pussy in invitation. Her pussy ached with want. It wanted to be violated, to be filled with the enormous black dick. The sides to be stretched tight around the very hard shaft as it slid into the deepest parts of her body. To be used and ruined by its size as it satisfies the massive black cock by milking the huge amounts of cum it must contain into the depths of her hole. Amy trembled with desire as her pussy burned with the same. The huge black man moved his bulk in-between her legs his muscles rippling with the movement and his rigid black cock bouncing in the air. He ran his huge hands down her trembling legs towards her waiting hole. He ran his fingers across its slick opening before grabbing himself and smearing the juice down the length of his dick. The veins twisting like snakes under the skin as he rubbed Amy's juices on himself. It left the fantastic dick shining black and the head throbbing in anticipation. Amy whimpered as he moved the head of his dick towards the opening in-between her legs. She jumped when she felt the heat of it touch her pussy lips. The head of his dick dwarfed the opening to her pussy as he rubbed up and down coating it in her ample moisture. She moaned softly with desire as she breathed heavily and beads of sweat began to slide down her body. It was then I fully realized what was about to happen. The woman I loved was about to be the center of the dirtiest sex acts. Fucked senseless by not one but two men. One of which was black and ready to impale her with a dick that would never leave her pussy the same. She was about to cross the line into becoming the true whore she craved to be. Amy froze as the black man began to push. Her legs started to tremble as she leaned back and closed her eyes. Her mouth opened in a silent scream of ecstasy as she felt her pussy begin to expand. It stretched ever so slowly, making room for the enormous black dick head that was slowly pushing its way inside of her. I felt her ass hole begin to tighten as it stretched apart the lips of her pussy. Amy moaned loudly with a mixture of pain, pleasure, excitement and sexual desire as the hot very hard dick head popped post the entrance to body. Her ass was squeezing my cock impossibly hard, her body making room for gross invasion. The huge black man groaned in pleasure as her slick tight hole gripped his dick. Amy sucked in her breath as he continued to push. His massive dick sliding slowly deeper into her stretched out hole. I could feel it inside her spreading out her insides as it pushed past my dick. I watched mesmerized as the huge piece of black meat began to disappear into my woman's body. It pulsed and twitched as more of it began to feel the hot wetness of Amy's pussy. She let out a long breath of pleasure and spread her legs wider as the black man's body can to rest against us the entire 12" of thick dick buried completely inside her. Amy had never felt like such a whore, so stretched and her body stuffed with dick. She felt so wonderfully full with two men's hard cocks buried to the hilt in her body. The black man began to grind himself deeper in her body. She could feel her insides moving as the massive dick churned inside her. She began to cum. Screaming in pleasure she started to spasm, her holes clenching down on the dicks that filled them. She came harder than she ever imagined. The anticipation, the black cock, feeling like dirty slut sandwiched between two men, their naked dicks rock hard in her body it was too much. She thrashed in uncontrollable orgasm, held down between the men that impaled her. Her stretched pussy and ass rhythmically squeezing the dicks that invaded them. Amy's orgasm lasted an eternity, it left her breathless, flushed and whimpering. When it was finally over it had taken its toll, both dicks were itching to release torrent of cum they had built up. The huge black man began to withdraw his throbbing cock from Amy's body. She moaned loudly in protest to the empty feeling it left behind. Her pussy protested as well, it's lips sticking to his cock, stretched tight around in not wanting to let go. He seemed to pull her pussy out of her body, the lips leaving his cock shiny with her juices and cum. When the slick head began to appear, with a grunt he roughly shoved the full length back inside her. His balls slammed against my dick still buried in her ass. Amy gasped at the sudden fullness. He began to fuck her slowly and forcefully. Her pussy stuck to the smooth shaft of black meat every time he withdrew and gave way to its invasion every time his body came against hers. Amy moaned loudly with every thrust, loving the ecstatic feeling of the massive black dick sliding in and out of her throbbing hole. He began to fuck her faster. I could almost feel his cock getting harder. The black man was ready to cum. Amy knew it too and it drove her to the edge. She wanted it in her, and she screamed. "CUM! PLEASE, CUM IN ME! CUM IN MY DIRTY LITTLE HOLE! CUM DEEP INSIDE ME!" And he did, those words did him in. With a loud groan the huge man buried his massive black dick as deep as it would go in Amy's pussy. I felt it shudder. He withdrew it quickly and slammed it into her again. Amy moaned loudly as she felt the huge dick spasm and twitch inside her. He slammed it into her again and it erupted. Amy screamed as she felt the intensely hot cum shoot into the deepest parts of hole. The black man continued to pound her; every time the monstrous cock buried itself in her it released a hot jet of cum inside her. I could feel her insides getting hotter. Amy began to cum in silent ecstasy. All she could do was spread her legs like whore while the black man filled her pussy with load after load of cum. His dick began to slide out covered in white froth, his cum, my cum and Amy's juices mixed together in slick dirty lubricant. He pulled his dick out completely releasing a glob of sex from her stretched hole. It dripped down to cover and lubricate my own anal sex with Amy. The man shoved his black cock back as far as it would go inside her with a squish and twitched out the last drops of cum. I hadn't moved my cock the whole time I was so enthralled by their sex, but the thought of all the cum he just pumped inside her and all over my dick was all I could take. With the black man's cock firmly lodged inside her pussy I withdrew my cock and shoved it deep in her ass. Lubricated by his cum it slid in easy and the moment it bottomed out I shot my load deep in her bowls. I continued to fill her ass with cum as Amy's orgasm heightened because of mine. She squirmed in pleasure between the two men, the two dicks twisting and squishing inside their sloppy cum filled holes. We all settled down, laying in the glow of orgasm while our dicks shrunk inside her. The black man slowly withdrew his black cum soaked cock from Amy's pussy with a wet sucking sound. My dick slipped out of her ass easily as she slid onto the bed beside me. She lay in that super sexy just fucked position, covered in sweat, eyes closed, sprawled on the bed. Her legs spread wide and her well fucked pussy and ass on full display. We stared at them in amazement. Amy's stretched pussy hung partially open, the puddle of cum visible on the inside. It was slowly running out of her, down to her ass and inside her hole where it mingled with mine before dripping onto the bed in a puddle. Amy's legs twitched spasmodically from the leftover lust of orgasm, from the intense fuck she'd just received. She purred as she dwelled in it, enjoying the notion of us admiring her well-fucked holes. Reluctantly, I left to get more alcohol, provisions for the night. When I got back to the hotel room I realized they were unnecessary. The sounds of sex were emanating from the inside. I could hear Amy moaning and the black man grunting, the rhythmical sound of bodies slapping together. I listened to them and smiled, excited as my dick began to move in my pants. I opened the door slowly and the smell of sex and cum assaulted my nostrils. I walked in and sat down, they never noticed my presence, too involved in their sex. My dick grew rock hard as I watched my love being fucked. She lay just as I left her, legs spread wide, completely submissive. The black man's huge bulk lay on top of her, smothering her small figure. He was pounding the full 12" of his monstrous black cock into her cum filled pussy with a fury. She just lay there like the whore she was enjoying every second of the onslaught, just getting fucked like never before. Her white hands looked funny on his very black ass, pushing his dick as deep as it would go with every thrust. He pulled his swollen veiny cock, covered in the white mess of their previous sex, all the way out of her hole every time. Her stretched out pussy was coated with the same mess, it hung wide open when the big black dick left it, awaiting its return. Its length then plunged completely inside her, both of them grunting with pleasure. He was destroying her pussy. The enormous black cock plowing its way inside her, leaving it a stretched out mess of loose skin and cum. She knew it and didn't care; all she cared about was huge black cock that was satisfying her like never before. She was being such a nasty slut, God I loved her. As I watched his dick seemed to get even larger, his thrusts can quicker. Amy felt it too. "YES! YES! Do it, Cum in me again!" She screamed. "Here it comes, you dirty slut!" He grunted back, "I'm gonna fill you're little white hole up!" "YES! Please! Shove that huge black cock in my pussy and fill it with cum!" She whispered huskily, "Hurry, please I want it in me soooo baaaaad!" The black man roughly grabbed Amy and forced himself into the deepest parts of her body. Amy looked so helpless and so hot in his embrace. He groaned loudly as his body shook. He spasmed harshly and shot his load inside my woman. Amy screamed when she felt the hot liquid filling her insides. She started to cum, spasming every time the black man did. Her ruined pussy squeezing the huge black cock, milking the cum out of it. The insides of her pussy contracting every time he shot a fresh burst of stringy white cum in her. Her pussy pulled each fresh wave of jizz deeper inside her body. Even the hugely thick dick couldn't plug her stretched out hole and the cum began to ooze out of her, coating her ass and the black man's balls. Every time he clenched his ass and forced another load into her, more squeezed out. She was completely filled with his cum. Their spasms subsided; they lay still coupled together kissing softly. The huge black man got up and slowly withdrew his softening cock from Amy's pussy. She whimpered a little in protest as it slid out. I watched in amazement as the lips of her pussy clung to his black dick, holding onto the huge piece of meat that had just roughly used it. His cock was covered in cum and the liquid lust that Amy's hole had produced. He plopped out of her hole and collapsed on the bed. I stared at her pussy in lusty fascination. The skin that had previously held onto the black man's dick now hung in loose folds on the sides of her hole. They were covered in cum. The white sticky mess of their sex was all over Amy's thighs, the sides of her vagina, all over her ass. She lay in a puddle of it on the bed. She saw me stare and gave a mischievous, lusty look as she spread her legs to give me a better view of her ruined hole. All around her pussy beneath the cum was red and swollen from the pounding she received. The skin around the entrance to her hole was stretched and wrinkled, slick with sex. Between it, her destroyed fuck hole gapped wide open. The inside, reamed out by the black man's monstrous dick was cavernous. The puddle of cum that filled it went deep into her body and it dripped out of her continuously. She stared at me with a sultry, satisfied expression and undulated her hips seductively. She wanted me to fuck her, to make dirty love to her just fucked, destroyed pussy. I stared at Amy laying on the bed, she looked so dirty, so used, abused and filled with cum by the huge black man, like such a nasty slut and never before so SEXY! I don't know why, but I wanted to go to her, hold her in my arms, kiss her passionately, slide my dick into her wonderfully pre-fucked pussy. I climbed slowly on top of her, relishing the anticipation. My dick was throbbing with desire to be inside her. Her thighs and crotch were slick and sickly warm from the fucking she'd just received. I reached my arms around her as I slowly leaned down to kiss her. She stared at me smugly, sexily. I knew she was very happy I still wanted her; she was worried about it but not anymore. Amy knew she could fuck all the big black cock she wanted and still come home to her man who would make sweet love to her. She could have everything her wild sexual desires ached for and I would love her for it. My tongue slid into her mouth as we embraced. I shifted my hips and my dick easily slid in her. Her insides were so hot, so wet and slippery. I could barely feel the outsides of her stretched pussy around my cock. It felt like I was buried in a steaming hot puddle of slimy yogurt. I relished the felling of her destroyed cum filled pussy. We kissed deeply as I fucked her. I could feel her sex with the huge black man running out of her, all over my dick, balls and thighs. We were coupled together in a slippery mess of sinful sex. It was the best sex we'd ever had. We came together even though she could barely feel me inside her. The thought of my hard dick ready to explode in her used pussy was all she needed. It tried vainly to squeeze my cock as I came, but didn't even come close. Spasm after spasm I shot in her body, my cum mixing in the mess of cum her pussy already contained. We lay together for a long time, resting, catching our breath, loving each other. The huge black man shifted his weight next to us, he'd been watching, waiting the whole time. I was still buried in Amy as she reached over to grab his monstrous cock. I could feel my heartbeat in my own dick as I watched her small white hands rub the smooth, black, slick, skin, or maybe it was her pussy throbbing with the desire to be full again. His black cock seemed to take on a life of it's own, pulsating and shifting to her touch. It was getting very swollen and very large. He wanted to fuck Amy again. I whispered in her ear, "You want that huge black dick back inside your ruined pussy my little slut." She closed her eyes and nodded, making small sounds of desire in her growing excitement. "I want you to eat my pussy while he fucks me" she whispered back huskily as she looked me dead in the eyes. I was a little shocked at the prospect, but I hid it well. I slid off of her without answering, not sure if I could do it. The black man lay on his back on the bed, his now rock hard cock pointing straight in the air. Amy sat up and began to straddle him. She faced away from him staring at me as she slowly lowered her pussy towards the waiting black piece of meat. Strings of white cum began to slide out of her still slightly gapping hole, coating the massive dick head. She rubbed her open pussy up and down the long black shaft, teasing both of us. She couldn't stand it any longer and began to lower her weight; the loose folds of skin around her hole parted easily and the monstrous black cock disappeared inside her body. She moaned loudly at the satisfying feeling of so much dick plowing its way inside her body. She stared at me seductively as she began to grind the full length of it deep in her. She lifted her body up till his dick was almost out of her before dropping back down, roughly forcing the now cum soaked black cock back inside the deepest parts of her body. She fucked him hard for a few minutes, her ruined hole enjoying every second of it. Her pussy, his dick and balls were freshly coated with fresh cum and juice from her insides. She saw me staring at it and leaned back, spreading her legs wide as she did so. The black man did the same as he slowly fucked her. Their sex was wide open for me and I went to it. I put my hands on Amy's thighs while she gave me a very lusty pleased look and lowered my face slowly. I inhaled the strong smell of sex, cum and horny pussy as I watched the black monster slowly slide in and out of her. Suddenly I realized my dick was throbbing rock hard at what I was about to do. My open mouth closed around her loose pussy lips, the smooth black skin of his dick sliding past my tongue. The salty taste of cum mixed with the sweet taste of Amy's juices filled my mouth. It made my dick hurt with excitement. I buried my face, eagerly licking and sucking, slobbering all over their sex. They both moaned with pleasure at the feeling of my hot mouth all over the threshold of their slow passionate lovemaking. My tongue and lips slide all over the folds and sides of her full pussy lapping up the intoxicating scent and taste; all over the huge black dick as it disappeared inside her, returning with more of the sweet fluid. I was lost in the dirty pleasure when Amy grabbed my head and pulled me up. She learned forward and kissed me deeply. My cum, the black man's cum, and her juices mingled in our mouths. Amy grabbed my hard dick as we kissed, rubbing it and pulling it slowly towards her. She began rubbing my dick all over the outsides of her pussy, next to the huge dick already inside her. I quickly became slick with same mixture lubricating her sex with the black man. She broke the kiss and leaned towards my ear, "Fuck Me" was all she said. I stared pushing right away. The huge black shaft slide across mine as I slowly tried to force it in her. Amy's mouth opened wide and her eyes closed in a silent scream of please as she felt her hole start to expand even more. The head of my dick slowly started to slide in her impossibly tight hole. I pushed a little harder and with a gasp from Amy the whole length slipped in her. All three of us stopped motionless while she got used to the new invasion. I couldn't believe how tight her hole was, my cock was being smashed between her pubic bone and the mammoth piece of black meat below it. We very slowly stated alternating moving in and out of her a few inches at a time till the look on Amy's face began to change from pain to ecstatic pleasure. We got into a rhythm, dicks sliding past each other locked inside her swollen hole. Amy was lost in orgasmic pleasure; her man and a huge black man were fucking her at the same time, her pussy so tight and full around them. It didn't take long before she started to cum, her hole crushing down in spasms on the two dicks inside it. Her body shook with convulsions and she screamed with every one of them. "CUM!" Amy started to scream, "BOTH OF YOU CUM IN ME! NOW! PLEASEEEE!" We fucked her with a renewed fury, both of us pounding in her. The black man groaned and I felt a new hot wetness inside her. It was too much for me and I stated coming too. Jet after Jet of hot cum we pumped into her body while she bucked and screamed between us. Her inside grew even sloppy slipperier than before. The two dicks coated in each otherÕs cum where slamming inside her ruined hole while her contractions sucked it deeper inside her. The world spun in an orgasmic lust of sinful sex and cum for what seemed like hours. When it was over it left us spent, exhausted and fighting to catch our breaths. Words can't even describe the aftermath of our sex. Cum was everywhere, Amy's pussy was completely transformed into a destroyed, ruined mess of a fuck hole. Life and sex would never be the same. Amy was a true black cock whore. She fucked the black man often in the following weeks, even that wasn't enough. She began to fuck other black men. Finally, she discovered getting gangbanged. She would come home used, fucked in every hole of her body multiple times. The cum of many black men contained inside her ruined ass and pussy. But she always came home to me. To her man, to clean her up with his tongue, to make slow sloppy love made to stretched and ruined holes that only black men could satisfy. I loved her. She loved me. And we were both very, very satisfied.

It was the spring of 1995, I was 18 and growing up in suburbia. I was walking down the tree lined street with shaded sidewalks heading to the store to pick up some snacks. The street was long and straight and the tall Oak and Maple trees were just leafing out. It was a sunny but chilly day after rain had fallen the night before and I avoided the worms that had been flooded out of the lawns and were now crawling along the sidewalk. I was about half a mile from my house, and a little further than that from the store. I usually avoided this street because of one of the kids who lived here. But I was going to a new store that had opened and this was sort of the only way to get there. The kid who I refer to was a typical bully, his name was Marcus or something. His parents were never around and he had an older brother with some kind of loud muscle car and a couple of asshole friends who seemed to always be with him. He was a year younger than me, but a lot bigger. Of course pretty much everyone was bigger than me. I was definitely a late bloomer, still had a baby face and looked much younger than 18. I stepped off the curb to cross a quiet side street and WHOOSH! A basketball passed inches in front of my face. It scared the heck out of me and I froze. Then I heard the sound of sneakers pounding on the pavement coming towards me. Sure enough, it was bully kid followed by one of his goofy, dirty friends. "Watch out you pansy! You almost hit my ball." he said, in that condescending asshole way that people like him talk. Of course his friend laughed. I fought my instinct to run. I'm an adult, I thought to myself. As soon as I caught my breath after being surprised I tried to keep on walking, hoping to avoid any trouble. "Where are you going pansy?" he said. I kept walking but he ran up to me and grabbed my arm and stopped me with a jerk. "Owwwwwe, stop it!" I whined, "Leave me alone!" He looked shocked and surprised, but within a second, he and his friend began to laugh hysterically. I had squealed and sounded just like the pansy he thought I was. I immediately flushed bright red and turned to get away. He grabbed my arm, harder this time and threw me to the ground. I landed on the soggy, muddy grass strip between the street and the sidewalk and he was immediately on top of me. I was on my back and he was straddling my chest giving me little slaps on my face as the wet ground soaked my clothes. "What a pussy. He said. "Aren't you older than me?" he taunted. I just looked up at him, hoping this would all be over soon. "You look like a girl." He said pinching both of my cheeks. I couldn't move, his knees were pinning my arms and he was way too heavy for me. He kept slapping my face, not really hard but still kind of painful. "My brother told me what they call you in school." SLAP! "Little Dicky." SLAP! "Is that right?" SLAP! "Do you have a little tiny dicky?" SLAP! "Answer me!" SLAP! "Little girly boy has a little girly dicky!" SLAP! Then I began to cry. I totally lost it. Tears were running down my face and I was blubbering, sniveling, and whining. "Give him a wedgie!" his friend said. And he seemed to like that idea. He rolled me over and pushed my face in the wet grass and reached into the waist band of my pants grabbing my underwear and pulling them all the way up to my shoulders. I yelped and cried, again sounding just like..a girl. Completely soaked, embarrassed and with my underwaer burning into my butt crack I laid there and cried. "Crying like a little girl." He teased. "Little dicky girly boy." "Hey! What the hell is going on out here?" I heard a man yell loudly. "You're pathetic, little crying girly boy." He said as he pushed himself to his feet using the back of my head, forcing my face into the soft, wet ground. Then I heard them as they ran away fast. "Catch you later Little Dicky!" he yelled as he ran off. "Are you ok?" I heard a man's voice ask. Then I felt hands on my arms start to pull me up. I slowly got up as he helped me. Soaking wet, crying with my underwear stretched out of my pants, he looked me over to see if I was hurt as I tried to stuff my underwear back into place. The embarrassment of it all made me cry even more "Are you all right?" he asked. "I..I think so." I said between sobs. "Let's go get you cleaned up." He said as he gently ushered my up the steps to the house that he had come out of. He walked me in through the front door, my tears beginning to dry but my whimpering coughs continuing a little bit. He led me up stairs and into a bathroom. I sat down on the toilet. He stood there for a moment with his hands on his hips, as if he wasn't sure what he could do. I just sat there in my wet clothes, feeling like a complete fool and idiot. Then he got down on one knee and began taking off my shoes. "You sure you're ok? Should I call your mother?" He asked. I shook my head and mumbled that she wasn't home and would just get mad at me for not standing up for myself anyway. He turned on the shower and told me to put my wet clothes over by the door so he could wash and dry them then turned and went to leave. Before he left, he turned around and looked at me, I was still crying quietly, more like whimpering really, my head was hung low and my wet hair was plastered to my red cheeks. "Heeeeey....he said softly. It'll be ok. You look like a sweet boy, it'll all be fine." Then he closed the door. I took off my wet clothes and put them by the door. I took off my underwear which were ripped and stretched out of shape into something unrecognizable. After I was naked I pushed aside the shower curtain and got into the warm water. I looked down at myself as the water flowed over me. I hated my body. I was like an 18 year old little boy and worst of all, I did have a little dicky. I knew it was little since summer camp when I was 12. All through high school I had to change in gym class and I had seen other boys naked. They all had penises that were much bigger than mine and they all had hair on theirs. Mine was tiny. It didn't hang down. It stuck out over my sack like a vienna sausage and right now, being cold and humiliated, it was half that size. As I stood under the hot water feeling sorry for myself, I continued to look at my body. My body hair, what little of it there was, was blonde and nearly invisible. I wasn't skinny or fat. I definitely wasn't muscular. I was kind of doughy. My skin had a thickness to it, there was no definition just shape. I wasn't even pudgy, just kind of, well..... soft. I was fleshy all over, not at all like other boys my age or even younger. My eyes looked down at my little dick, the water from the shower making it look like I was peeing, and I began to cry again. "Are you ok in there?" I heard as the door opened a crack. "Can I come in?" I snapped out of my self-loathing haze and turned off the shower as I sniffled up my tears and heard his footsteps on the tile floor. "I've got a clean towel for you, nice and warm just out of the dryer." He said and opened the shower curtain. I jumped, frightened. I didn't expect him to do that and I immediately put my hands over myself to cover my crotch. "Here you go." He said casually and pushed the towel towards me. I saw his eyes go up and down over my body as I reached for the towel. I pulled it back to me quickly and tucked it up under my chin. Partially covering myself and stood there in the chill of the air. His eyes lingered on me for just a moment and he smiled at me for a couple of seconds, then turned around and did something at the sink. I turned and faced the wall to hide my nakedness and then put the towel over my shoulders like a cape and snuggled it back under my chin, closing it tightly in the front. When I turned around I noticed he was looking at me in the mirror. Our eyes met for a split second before his flicked away and he continued to move things around on the counter before turning around to face me. "I'm Tom." He said. "Are you ok? Feeling a little better?" I nodded my head. "Thanks for helping me." I said shyly. "Well, it sounded like a woman was getting attacked out there, I had to..." He stopped himself as he saw my face flush and tears well up in my eyes. I dropped my head to the ground. "Heeeeeey..." he said with that same soothing tone as before. "I didn't mean...I..." I sniffled and tears began to roll down my cheeks, again. "I'm sorry." He said, stepping closer to me. He put a hand on my shoulder and one under my chin, pushing it up to make me look at him. He then moved his finger across my cheek, moving my hair off of my face and curling behind my ear. "That kid's a real punk, and he's tough. I'd probably scream like that if he was chasing me around too." He said and smiled warmly at me. He wiped my tears away with his thumb. "What's your name he asked?" "Alex." I said, sniffling afterwards. "Well, Alex, you're a very sweet boy. I think you can stop crying, you're safe now." He said. "I think that boy hurt your feelings more than your body. Is that right?" I nodded, wiping my tears away with the towel. "What was that all about anyway?" He asked. "It's nothing, just my destiny. I said sullenly. It happens all the time. Since the 6th grade the kids at school, even the girls make fun of me and push me around." "Why is that?" He asked. "You seem like a nice guy." I shrugged, looking down at the floor wondering whether he had heard the names that the kid had called me. I wanted to run out of there. I wanted to be back in my room at home, alone and safe. "I dunno." I said sheepishly. "Well, he sure did call you some mean things." He said. I blushed. "But you know you shouldn't feel bad about those things. We can't help the way our bodies are made. We have to use what we have and be the best we can be." I rolled my eyes. "I had a weight problem when I was younger and got picked on too. But look at me now." He said. I looked at him. He seemed like a good looking guy. I mean, I'm no judge of "good looking guys", but, well he wasn't fat or ugly. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked at me. "I think you are pretty special." He said. "Look how nice your skin is, you have great eyes, such a cute face." There was an awkward silence as he stared down at me. Then he moved a thumb across my cheek. He was standing close to me now. He was much taller than me. My face was level with his chest, and he did that thing where he lifted up my chin again. I looked at him and he was looking at me, it was kind of weird. "Not very many boys are special like you." He paused, and then said quietly. "So...pretty." My face twisted into anger as I looked at him. I opened my mouth to protest, to tell him to fuck off, I'm not like that. But before I got any words out he put his hand up to my mouth. "Shhhhh...Listen. He said. "Those boys down there, they are about the same age as you right?" "I'm a year older than them." I said angrily. "Wha...(he cleared his throat)...well. Ok." He stammered. "Well how old are you?" He asked. "Eighteen." I said the confidence dropping out of my voice like a deflating ball. He looked me over before continuing. "Well look at them. They have muscles, and they are tall, they are strong. That one kid even had a little mustache. They make fun of you because you're different. Because you're small, you're soft and you're...well, pretty." He let that sink in. I didn't protest this time. "I'm guessing that the girls make fun of you because you're cuter than they are" I shrugged. "So where does that leave you?" He asked. I shrugged again, feeling like the biggest loser in the world. "It leaves you stuck in the middle. You're a middle person. Not really a boy and not a girl. You're special." As his words were sinking in he moved the towel off of one of my shoulders and ran his fingers over my bare skin. "You're so very soft, so very special." He said softly. I stood there in a time warp. Feeling like I was just punched in the gut and told a truth I didn't want to hear. I turned and looked in the mirror. My hair was still wet, pulled back behind my ears with little half curls moving forward from beneath my lobes, my pale pink shoulder contrasting with the baby blue towel. My face...it was pretty. It wasn't handsome, it was cute. My eyes were big and blue; my nose was soft and undefined. I looked at Tom's reflection. Standing there in his jeans and t-shirt, he was a man. Hairy arms, broad chest, His faced was shaved but I could see his beard line. I was so far removed from what he was, I looked completely like a girl next to him. He watched me watching myself, gently squeezing my shoulder as if he saw my mind turning as my eyes looked back and forth at our reflections. "Here, let me try something." He said. He turned me to face him and gently took hold of the towel from under my chin and being careful to move slowly and not expose me, moved it under my arms. Then he secured it in front of me, like a girl would wear it. The towel squeezed my chest and the skin above it pushed up, giving me the appearance of having small breasts. "There." He said. "You're perfect." He moved his hands to my waist, squeezing gently, then moved his hands up my sides and back down to my waist. He pulled me into himself tenderly and hugged me. I don't know why I didn't stop him. Well, I guess I do now. But looking back, this was the moment. This is the time I could have shouted at him to leave me alone and I have no doubt that he would have. This was the moment I could have run out of there. But I didn't, I just let it happen. "So pretty." He whispered to me. My head was turned sideways against his chest, facing the mirror, my hands hanging down at my sides, his hands on my hips, kneading softly through the towel. He was pulling me into him. I could feel his dick pushing on my tummy. Through his jeans, though the towel. It was down the side of his pant leg I think. It wasn't hard, it was just there. I remember thinking about it, I remember feeling it. Did it twitch or move a little? I just remember being aware of it. I remember thinking that this didn't seem like a hug from my uncle or my grandfather, it felt, well different. He wasn't pushing himself into me, but he wasn't giving me a "guy hug" either. This guy had just saved me from getting my ass kicked by the neighborhood asshole, who was younger than me, had rescued me and taken care of me, now I was warm and I felt safe. For the first time I could remember, I felt safe outside of my house. We stood there like that for a while, I don't know, it seemed like awhile, but could have been a couple of minutes. There was so much going on in my head. And I guess in my body as well. Then I leaned into him, he felt me relax. I moved my right hand up his torso slowly over his chest and placed it on his shoulder, and then I did the same with my left. We stood there for a moment before he pushed me away from him just a little and leaned down and kissed me. He kissed me just below my ear. I still touch that spot sometimes and remember the feeling. I remember the sound of it, the smell of him. I felt his hands grip me more forcefully. It felt good. I could feel his dick get bigger and he pushed it towards my tummy while he kissed me. It was like I wasn't me. The side of my head was against his chest and he was kissing my head and neck. I watched in the mirror while his hands explored my shoulders, my waist, my back. His touch was sweet. Not rough but forceful and caring. Looking at my reflection in his arms with his body draped over me, his hands roaming and his breath hot in my ear as his lips kissed my neck it was obvious, we did not look like two dudes making out. There was nothing weird about it. We looked like a man and a woman and there was no question about who was which. I'd never been kissed before, I'd never had a girl want to touch me other than to push me or take things from me. Other boys, well they either hit me or pushed me or both. I never had fit in anywhere. But looking in that mirror, I fit in. I fit in Tom's arms. I didn't feel sick or weird or confused, I felt special. He stood up after several minutes of kissing my neck and shoulders and took a deep breath. "Are you ok?" He asked. "I mean, is this ok? Do you like this?" I nodded. And I think I smiled at him a little. He smiled and asked if I should call my parents and let them know I'm ok. I told him I didn't need to. That I was 18 and I stay out all day on the weekends and that it was only noon. Wow. Only noon. I had left my house at like 10:30 am. And here I was now in a towel around my chest like a girl and being treated like one by a man whom I had never met and somehow I was ok with it all. He led me out of the bathroom and down the hallway by my hand. My other hand went up to the fold in my towel to hold it in place. He sat me down on the bed and walked to the other side by the window. I watched him as he did. He sat on the bed across from me, took off his shoes and lay on top of the comforter. I was looking over my shoulder at him. "Come here." He said, patting the bed next to him. He was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow. I said nothing. I looked at him for a moment. Then I pulled my legs up and scooted onto the bed. Half sitting and half lying down with my knees pulled up and my arms folded over my chest, leaning against the pillows. He smiled at me and reached over and put his hand on my leg. He slowly stroked my lower thigh. "You're so soft." He said under his breath. His hand was big and felt a little rough on my skin. I watched it move up and down my leg. "Do you like the way I'm touching you?" He asked. I nodded sheepishly. He continued rubbing my thigh for a few moments, talking to me sweetly, again telling me how special I was. Telling me how pretty I was. I felt special. No one had been nice to me like this, ever. His hand on my leg felt nice, it was sending tingles through my body. I was pretty motionless, enjoying this strange, unexpected attention. My mind was calm. It's as if seeing myself next to this man, seeing his big hand on my smooth skin made it all make sense. I had a deep feeling of peace and comfort. I wasn't scared, I didn't hate myself. It felt good to be touched like this. He scooted up closer to me and slid his hand into the folds of the towel, touching my tummy. His hand was chilly and I flinched. He stopped for a moment, gauging my reaction until my body relaxed again. His hand moved around to my side between my ribs and my hip. He squeezed and pulled me closer to him. Then he leaned even closer and kissed me gently on my lips. My hands were holding onto the fold of the towel beneath his, keeping my towel closed above my crotch and my legs were together. His hand was moving up and down along my torso. He was kissing my lips with his. Gently, sweetly and I slowly began to kiss him back. I had never kissed anybody except my mother and relatives. His kisses were soft, and warm. He tasted like mint. He would suck on my lower lip gently and a few times I felt his tongue brush over my lips. I tried to participate and kiss him back, but it was all I could do to just let him teach me. It was like my body was filled with purple smoke and butterflies. I was tingling everywhere and my head was dizzy, but in a really good way. I wasn't thinking about anything but his touch. I felt so warm from the inside of me, I was sweating and my heart was beating really fast. His hand moved out from beneath my towel and he tugged at the knot that was bound over my chest, unfolding the towel from itself. He folded one side away, exposing half of my chest and one nipple. I broke our kiss and looked down, as did he. "Oh sweetie." He said with a gasp, as he took my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He squeezed tenderly and then flattened his hand and rubbed my chest in small circles. He unfolded the other half of the towel and slid it off exposing my other nipple. Then he adjusted himself so that he could kiss me there. He kissed one nipple and then the other. "So Special, mmmm." He whispered as he did. I quietly gasped as I felt some kid of electricity buzzing through me. My hands went to the back of his head and I weaved my fingers in his hair and held him to me. With one hand he was pulling my chest to him and with the other he was gently stroking my upper arm. He rolled me onto my back and got up onto his knees on the bed. He looked at me, his hair was a mess from my fingers running through it and he had a smile on his face. He looked happy and hungry at the same time. A little wild eyed. My hand was still holding tightly to the towel over my waist but my chest was exposed. He tugged the bottom of his shirt over his head, removing it one quick motion. Wow. He was all man. His chest was fit, but not overly muscular with some hair, not overly hairy, just very manly. Once again the contrast in my field of vision was stunning. I could see my smooth, soft, hairless chest with my little pink puffy nipples in the foreground, beyond it his manly stomach and hairy chest, broad shoulders and strong arms. He looked down, saw me clenching the towel and put both of his hands on my thighs, just below where the towel was. He let me hold the towel as he gently pushed my legs apart. I sort of resisted, not knowing what he wanted, still embarrassed to fully expose myself. My head was so foggy like I couldn't think and I reluctantly let it happen, holding the towel tightly over myself. He opened my legs just enough to put one on either side of himself and sort of squirmed up between them, obviously seeing that I wanted to remain covered down there. He put one arm to either side of me, partially setting his weight onto my body. What a feeling that was! The feeling of his body pushing into mine, the heat of his naked chest on mine, it felt amazing all though me. I felt his dick pushing against my crotch, through his jeans and the towel. His chest was in my face and the hairs were tickling my cheeks and lips. He pushed his hips forcefully into me, causing my butt to sink down into the mattress. "Do you feel that baby?" He asked in a husky voice. I didn't know what to say. I felt so many things right then. "uh-huh." Was all I could say, followed by a gasp, or a moan. "What do you feel?" He asked. "I feel you pushing into me." "What do you feel pushing into you baby?" He asked. "Your dick." I whispered, barely audible. "What baby?" He asked. "I can't hear you." "I feel your dick pushing into me." I breathed. Saying that made something change, it seemed to get warmer and I felt his dick throb as he pushed it against me harder than ever. "Mmmmm, yes, you make me so hard baby." He said. By now I had moved my hands to his sides; he was grinding his dick into mine, into my crotch. His breathing was heavy and all I could see was his chest and my chest and my tummy and his and the waistband of his pants. I couldn't believe how hard his dick felt, even between the layers of fabric. He lifted himself off of me onto his knees. My legs were spread over his thighs as we looked at each other. "You are so sexy." He said. "Are you ok? Do you want to stop?" He asked. I shook my head no as I looked into his eyes. "I need to know you're ok with this." He said. He took hold of my hands and moved them to his crotch. With his hands over mine he pushed my hands onto the stiff bulge in his pants and rubbed my hands back and forth over himself. Letting out a deep breath he said, "Open my pants." He moved his hands away from mine as I continued to stroke him through the denim. He grabbed my arms and pulled me into a sitting position, my knees spread and bent over his thighs. He leaned down and gave me a long slow kiss on the mouth. "Open my pants baby." He repeated after breaking our kiss. I looked down and moved my fingers to the button on his jeans. I unbuttoned it and pulled it to the side, then slid the zipper down. He was wearing checkered boxer shorts, they were blue and red. I pulled them down until the head of his dick was poking out the top. He wiggled his hips as I pushed them down further. His dick was right there, it looked alive, and it looked huge. He helped me push his pants off further then he rolled over on his side and took them the rest of the way off. He got back into the same position, but now he was completely naked. I still had the towel bunched over my waist and crotch. I was staring at his cock; it was so hard, so big. His balls looked like eggs hanging below it in a stretched out sack. The top of it was swollen and pink; it looked tight like a ripe piece of fruit. I could feel the heat from it on my tummy and chest as I was hunched over it. "Put your hands around it." He said. I looked at him, frozen, still stunned, in some kind of awe looking at his cock. "Go ahead baby, it's just for you." I reached for it slowly, terrified but intrigued. "That's it." He said softly. "Feel how hot you make me." I put my hands on it one over the other. It was so soft but at the same time super hard. The heat coming off it was amazing. It stuck out over my hands by a couple of. The tip was wet and slick. He began to slowly move his hips back and forth sliding his cock between my hands. "Squeeze it." He said. I squeezed my hands tightly and it throbbed, pushing my grip apart. "Do you like it?" Again I nodded, looking into his eyes briefly before looking back at this thing in my hands. As I squeezed it and he moved it, I could feel the hard part under the soft part move as the skin stretched with his thrusts. I had of course played with my own dick many times before, but there was absolutely no comparison. There was nothing similar between my little tiny dick and this hot, hard thing in my hands, just like the rest of our bodies. I was captivated by his cock; there was so much to it, the big purple head sliding in and out of the skin around it, the heat of it, the dark hairs surrounding it, and the big balls below it. I was mesmerized. I realized for the first time that my own dick was throbbing under the towel, my hips were moving in rhythm with his and the soft bath towel felt wonderful rubbing on my little boner. But mostly I was focused on Tom's big cock in my hands. I kept looking back and forth from his cock to his face. He was breathing heavy and saying how sexy I was. He was stroking my thighs and spreading my legs and moving his hands all over my body. Then I felt the cold air on my body as the towel slipped off of me. I looked down in shock and embarrassment as Tom looked down, and then up at me. I immediately let go of him and reached for the towel to cover myself up. He grabbed my hand and said, "No. Please I want to see all of you." My little dick was standing straight up over my tight little ball sack. Right there, exposed, pink and hairless. I blushed so hard; I could feel my face get hotter than his cock. He put his hand on my chest and softly pushed me back into the pillows. "Shhhhh..." He said. "Let me look at you. My god baby you are so sexy." He pushed the towel off of me so I was completely exposed; my legs splayed wide, my little dick poking into the air like tube of lipstick. I pulled my hands up over my chest and tucked them under my chin, feeling very exposed. I watched as he stroked himself, his cock hovering over me, inches away from my own. Again the contrast of our two bodies was so obvious. His eyes moved over me, up and down as he stroked his cock he was muttering things like, "Oh my God", "What a hot little sexy thing you are", He was pushing down on one of my thighs as he stroked. "Touch yourself." He said. I didn't move. I was mesmerized my watching his hand move back and forth over his cock. "Touch yourself baby." He repeated. I moved my left hand down to my dick and wrapped my fist around it. It completely disappeared in my hand. God, it felt so good to squeeze it. I began to stroke it up and down, watching him do the same with his. "Not like that." He said. He let go of his cock and gently lifted my hand off my dick. "Like this." He flattened my hand with both of his gently and then placed my flat hand just above my stiff dick. With his hand on top of mine he slid it down, pushing my little stiffy downward until my fingers were at the bottom of my ball sack. Then he pushed down firmly and began moving our hands up and down. I could feel my dick rubbing into my sack, separating my balls on either side. He then put his other hand on mine so both of his thumbs and forefingers were guiding my hand causing me to sort of rub myself and squeeze myself at the same time, pushing my hard little thing deep into my skin. "Aaahhhh..." I made a breathy moan. "That's it baby, keep doing that." He watched me as I continued to push my dick into myself, rubbing slowly up and down. "Yes baby, that's so fuckin' hot. Look at yourself, look how sexy you are." I looked down over my chest and tummy to the back of my hand. My smooth thighs were spread and my little dick was nowhere to be seen. I did look sexy. I looked like a girl. Tom reached up and put his hands on my chest. He opened them wide around my nipples and squeezed, bunching my flesh together with a nipple on the end of each one. The picture in my eyes was complete, my little titties with their pink nipples in this man's hands, my smooth tummy, my spread legs, no little dick to be embarrassed of and most of all Tom's hard cock hanging over it all. He continued to knead my chest, taking time to roll my nipples around in his fingers as he did. They were swollen and super sensitive. I was now rocking my hips and pushing myself into both my hands and breathing heavily. I felt so good, like nothing else mattered, like everything before this was a dream. Tom repositioned himself so that he was higher up on his knees and took his cock into his hand. He placed the back of his hand on top of my hands applying more pressure and pushing my little hard on deeper between the folds of my sack. He started stroking himself and I relaxed my hands, keeping them between us. My hips were rolling and I was lifting up my fanny, pushing into him. The movement of his cock through his hand radiated all the way to my insides. "Oh baby. Oh fuck, oh baby, oh, oh...you're so hot, oh, oh..." "OH FUCK!" he almost shouted as he lifted the pressure off my crotch. I jumped and my hands shot up to under my chin at the loudness of it. And then he bucked and I saw his entire body tense up. All of his muscles were flexing and the little stringy things in his neck were showing. He was beet red. His head went back and as I watched his crazy expression I felt something splash across my tummy and chest. I looked down at his dick and as he continued to stroke it another big string of cum shot out landing in a long line next to the other one. This happened about 4 or 5 more times, and I continued to watch him. It was so intense. I had never experienced anything like that when I jerked myself off. After the cum stopped shooting out him the intensity seemed to drop off and he opened his eyes. He looked down at me, still stroking himself. Cum still oozing out of his red cock and falling onto my tiny hard on and tight little ball sack. His cum was hotter than his dick and I gasped as it dripped onto my penis. It made a string from my stiff little dick to his. I watched as he squeezed his cock hard and slowly moved his hand forward. When he got to the end more cum oozed out and fell onto my dick. He did this a few times, quietly grunting as he did, catching his breath. Then he squeezed his dick, which was not as hard anymore but still so big, and rubbed the last bit of his cum onto my dick. Pushing his big head into my ball sack and sliding around it. He moved his cock away from me and scooted back on the bed a little. I watched him over my cum covered body. My hands were still tucked under my chin and my legs splayed open. While he held on to his cock his other hand reached towards me. I thought he was going to grab my penis but he didn't. He moved his fingers through the cum pooled on my tummy and then put his hand just under my tight little ball sack. He pushed gently, his cum so slippery on my skin, and nuzzled his big fingers between my grape sized balls. He rubbed up and down, pushing harder and then more softly as he did. He slid his fingers down a little further as he rubbed between my balls and butthole and pushed hard on that spot. He did this for a few minutes and I began to get really warm in my face and in my tummy. My hips were rolling slowly in rhythm with his hand. He pushed really deeply and slowly, sliding his fingers up as he did. It felt like he was inside my body. I was looking up at him with half closed eye lids, feeling intense pleasure like never before. His eyes were moving from my crotch to my face. I was moaning softly every time he pushed I felt a wave of heat rush over me and I suddenly tightened up and let out a squeal as my dick spurted out two little shots of cum one right after the other. They shot up into the air about an inch before landing on my tummy. Then my little stiffy twitched a few times before a little bit more of my cum leaked out. He moved his hand and gathered more of his cum before putting his hand over my dick. He tenderly rubbed it all over my balls and dick mixing it with mine, gently massaging me with it. After I caught my breath and relaxed, he moved himself up the bed and lay down next to me. He pulled me onto my side, tightly against himself. What remained of his cum was pressed between our naked bodies as his sticky right hand slid down my side to my butt. He put his big hand over my cheek and squeezed firmly, letting out a big sigh. I snuggled up to him, nuzzling my head into his chest and feeling his fuzzy, naked body next to mine, very aware of his soft, warm cock against my tummy. TBC.

(FM+F+) So we parked out back, way out back. The club was hopping tonight. It is always so warm in "Emerald Dungeon" when it got crowded. I love it when it is packed, so much to watch. Getting out of the truck, I was feeling hot even with the cold breeze and drizzle in the air. I was in my favored fuck me heels, 4" and with the cute little straps around the ankle that were almost hidden by the turndown lace on my white bobby socks. Since we were going to the dungeon, I loved wearing my box pleated green tartan kilt mini skirt. Short enough that if I bent over, everyone would see my red bikini silk panties. The red panties matched my silk red micro bra under my loose button down white long sleeve shirt. Both the shirt and bra were nearly sheer and it was easy to see my bra and if you looked careful and I stood still too long, my dark areolas could be seen surrounding my luscious nipples. Just thinking about them made me cup my large breasts and squeeze them. "AIM's! Save it for inside." Tomas said as he came around the truck. "Yes master." I giggled as I scampered over to him and tossing my arms around his neck and pulling his head down to kiss. After a little spit swapping, he turned me around and with a whack on the ass, "Inside you hussy." Carefully, I strutted over to the side door entrance. The great thing about the side door, it lead to the front of house down a five foot walkway. It helped get people out of the rain and was lined with windows (actually one way glass) so you could see some of the action going on in the club. "Ooooo, what is that?" I said, pointing to back wall. "That is the new sex swing "Phule Proof Toy's" made custom. "I heard about it but I haven't heard about it getting used yet. I think it came in yesterday or the day before." "What are those hoops hanging from the chains?" I said. "Well Aim's that is real stir-up's for saddles." Intrigued, we worked our way to the front of house to the check in host and with a wave of our ID cards and door fee, we were in. Thump, thump, thump bounces the EBM music and the flogger on some guy strapped to a St Andrews cross. So a normal Saturday night. The lounge area was the first area you entered upon entering the room. It paralleled the side entrance hallway and was filled with chairs couches, storage bins, and lockers. Next to entrance, but walled off from the front was a two shower rooms, one large and private and one smaller and with windows looking over the main play space. On the other side wall was a line of 6 bathrooms and a laundry room along with a stairwell leading up to the more private play spaces. Now on to the main room open play space, it was a open area split into thirds, the front third is a dance floor with a DJ cranking out tunes and the remaining two thirds were places for bondage, torture and games. There was active use going on, on the St. Andrews cross. A man unknown to me was tied to it spread eagle and Angel in all her beauty was working over his back with a red and black leather flogger. She was doing it in time to Derude's Sandstorm. She was wearing a button down white shirt, not unlike mine but a leather corset over it, pantieless black leather chaps, and knee high leather boots I have licked up and down begging for her attention. For being a tiny little thing, she was a scary dom when she wants to be. Just 5'1" and maybe 95 lbs, I am like three of her. The queening chair was unoccupied but the OB GYN chair was. It was located right under one of the overhead lights, casting a purple light down on it. There was a gal naked and leaning back in the chair with her ankles up. A man dressed in a muscle shirt and jeans was dripping wax up and down her. She was not tied up, just laying there and enjoying it. He dripped the wax on her breasts, shoulders, belly, and on her pussy and with the amount of wax, they had been at it awhile. The message table, fence section, and spanking bench were all free including the new swing. It was impressive and drew my eyes in on it. Four chrome chains came down from the ceiling and U bolted to a lattice of leather that was the sling to lay in. At the lower end was the two stirrups and gleaming in chrome as well. "Oh Em Gee. I want you to do me on that!" I said to Tomas while turning but Tomas was not behind me. Erin and some boi were coming up behind me. "Sure, happy too." said Erin with a big grin and throwing her arms wide and giving me a big hug and kiss. "Took you long enough to get here. I already found a toy to play with tonight." she said tugging as a leather leash leading to the boi. Erin was full on future goth. Purple locks of hair, black dress, and purple furry boots. She was a big girl but she made this look her own and made it look great. Leashed to her wrist was a scrawny boy but boi is more like it. Cheesy makeup, a sluty French maid dress and little else. His hard on was not contained nor hidden but he kept his eyes to the ground like a good subby. "This is Paul. Paulette. Ha. He needs little attention. So sure, I'd fuck you on that." Erin said as Tomas came up to join us. By now I was blushing and beat red. "So Aim's wants us to fuck her on the swing. That sound fun Tomas?" said Erin with a boastful display with her hands on her hips, looking at Tomas. Tomas just laughed and said "We will see." shaking his head and chuckling. "Um... I meant you, Tomas." I barely said out loud as I was about to die of embarrassment. "Can we?" I managed to mumble. "Sure, grab a towel and head over. I will get our bag out of the locker." With some trepidation, I walked over to the shiny new sex swing. Sure that most everyone in the lounge area could see me. I always get a little stage fright knowing I am being watched but the lure of the swing under the red light drew me in. Tossing the towel on the leather, the area got brighter from the light. I turned and slid my butt on to the swing. Erin was right behind me with her boi in tow. I could see him peeking glances at me and his cock was tenting that dress nicely, pointed straight at me. "Just lay back." Erin said, like she knew everything. She likes to think she knows all. Ha. I snickered to myself. I laid my ample self back and noticed my head hung over the end of the sling. "It's too short." I said. "No it is not. Put your shoes on the chains and scoot your butt off the edge." With some effort, with my shoes having no traction on the thick chains, my butt slipped off the edge and my head landed on the swing. It felt a little unsteady at first but then the more I laid down in the swing, the safer I felt but now my red panties was all the stopped people from seeing my pussy, my skirt was pulled up to my belly from all the moving. "Mmmm, much better Aim's." Erin said with a rub of her palm across my panties. "Yes, much better but these are going to have to come off." She heaved and pulled as I moved to accommodate her, and slowly they came off as I moved my feet and legs at last. So there I was, pussy to the wind, laying on the new swing, heart pounding. "I could get used to this." I said more to reassure myself then express anything. "So can everyone else, I assure you." said Tomas as he walked up. Now shirtless and just in his leather pants and boots, holding wrist restraints we keep in out bag. With some manipulation and tugging, my wrists were strapped to the chains. At the same time, Erin worked my shoes off and guided them into the stirrups. I can really get used to this, my naked butt hanging out for all to see and strapped down, poor me. Lastly and surprisingly, Tomas put on the blindfold. "If you cannot see, then no one can see you." he laughed but that was the way I am. The less I can see, the bravier I became. I am sure there is some psycho mumbo jumbo to explain it but it works for me, and he knew it. "Nice bra." said Erin as she began to undo my shirt buttons. One button, nipple pinch, next button, boob grab, etc. I moaned involuntarily. Hey I have sensitive boobs, deal with it. Soon my shirt was parted and she was undoing the front snaps. Sprong, my large, bouncy boobs popped out and Erin dived in. Sucking on the one close to her and playing with the other one with her hand. Twisting the nipples in time with each other and to the beat of the EBM music rolling out of the dance floor, I think it was Lords of Acid. Music was soon forgotten as I felt some hands on my legs and a warm, wet tongue finding a home on my pussy. The stirrups made easy access to, Tomas?, or whoever. Oh yes, it was Tomas. He knew his way down there and he knew just how to tease my clit. Just light licks on it, around it, and warm breaths followed by long strokes up and down. Erin's hand moved from my breast to be replaced by another mouth and two hands.. This must have been her boi. As long as he knows how to play with it, fine, I thought. At first he cupped my large breasts towards his mouth and sucked away on my nipple while messaging my flesh. Okay, I like that. He can say, but aloud, I just moaned and laid there and took it. Oh and breathing, I still need to breath once and a while. I have never had all three played with at the same time. I can really get used to this. Then I exploded with my first climax, I had not even felt it coming. Just hit me, so I moaned and groaned my way through it. They all stopped and let me catch my breath for a sec (or two) and then started up again but this time Tomas had his cock out and slid it in me. I love the feel of his cock, not too long, not too big, not too small, and not to short. It filled me so well but I am sure that is because he fucks me so much with it. He slid in with a nice slow rhythm, pulling out till just the head was in and then a stroking back in till nothing more can go it, my cervix being flexed. He liked keeping it slow. Coupled with the rubber, he can do this a long time. He liked it slow, knowing this is not a race to see who comes in first. I rather like winning that race but some evil boys like to win. The mystery person was back at my breast, doing more of the same but I knew where Erin moved to. Her legs bumped my head as she moved in close and put one foot on the sling beside me and buried her pussy in my face. It took some moving, mostly scooting back up a bit till I could get good access to her box. In no time I was able to thrust my tongue as deep as I could into her. She always tastes good. Then I turned to sucking on her large clit. I really had no control, where she moved, I licked. Her clit, it was almost like an inch long cock. I sucked it, tongued it, and even nibbled on it. She loved it and bounced around. I could tell because she scrambled to brace herself with the chains under my arms. As she leaned forward, she pressed harder on my face. She cried and yelped. Her hips buckled and swayed. Then she came, and came hard. I thought I was going to be smothered at first, then she squirted a bit and with three shutters finished climaxing on my face. Tomas was still slowly stroking in and out of my pussy, like a ¼ beat of Juno Reactor. Then to my surprise, some other girl started to play with the breast Erin left. I suspected it was a woman because I could feel her long fingernails as she tentatively played with my nipple. She would pinch it and then flick it backwards with some long painted nails. Then she went to cradling my breast with one hand and licking around my breast, different but enjoyable. Scary but exciting. Erin had less than gracefully disengaged from my face, even briefly knocking off the blindfold but she recovered it back over my eyes and the red light blinded me with glare. She is always a little unsteady after a good climax and I am good, if I do not say so myself, ha. I smell cherry, was my first thought as a rubber covered cock pressed it's way to my lips. Startled, I opened my mouth to say something and it pressed it's way in. "murgle, margle." I gave up and turned my head and sucked away. Mmmmm, cherry. It was a narrow and somewhat short cock, but a cock is a cock. I loved on it. Sucking, licking, whatever I could do from my bound state. It could not be the boi, no skirt of a dress unless he took it off. Tomas stopped stroking in and out me. I knew he was not done but he pulled out and was replaced. Two big hands on my hips and with no help guiding it in was a big cock, thick and long. It slid in deep and pulled out fast. In and out it went, faster and faster with each stroke. I felt it coming this time and a second and even stronger climax came. None of my lovers stopped or changed beats. Both breasts being licked or sucked, one cock being sucked by me, and some monster snake fucking away hard on me, this must be heaven. Whoever had the big cock did not last long. With some mighty thrust, that even hurt a little bit and he began injecting into his condom. Well I hope into a condom. He fell forward after a bit and pulled out. He was replaced by another cock, Tomas-ish size but in and out a bit more jerky. He did not last long at all and came in time with the cock I was sucking on. The both moaned in stereo and even pulled out in tandem. As fast as my pussy was freed up, in went one more cock. The gal on my breast, I could feel her move over and put her pussy over my face and I had to eat her out too. People changed on my breasts. The cock was a thin cock but was long. It really gave my cervix a workout, pounding away on it. He fucked me hard and for a long time. He was thin enough or my pussy overworked, I barely felt him going in and out except when he hit my cervix. The gal I was eating out had an unshaved pussy, a small clit and puffy lips. I learned quickly she liked them both sucked out. I could even stab my tongue between them and I sucked on them. She has a sexy moan. Hearing her moan was a lot like a cat purring. This really got me going for a third and fourth climax. They both came back to back. The second one came as she came on my face with my tongue buried deep in her. The cock in my pussy changes again, post male climax I did not even notice. This man slide into me with a shaky hand and with tossing a pvc skirt on me. Must have been boi, Paulette or something like that. Once in, he felt good and fucked me slowly at first, taking time to enjoy it. I was wondering when Angel would join in but I was sure she was next for me to eat out. She straddled my face and sat on my chest and held my face into her pussy. She had a tiny waist and no ass, so that made it easier to sit on me in my position. I could feel the leather chaps on my arms as she rested her feet next to my hands. I brushed her feet and I licked her pussy. From experience, all I needed to do was suck on her clit. Which was beneficial since my jaw was getting very sore. Boi fucked away and building a little steam. Then I heard a flogger slap and was brushed by some of the leather and it fell off his back. "Fuck faster, slut!" Erin cried out. WHACK. "Stop fucking now." and he stopped. WHACK. "Commence." she ordered and he did, fast as he could, I felt. I sucked hard on Angel as I came for a fifth time and they both came too. Boi jerking in and out with little pumps as he injected into his condom and squirted all over my chin and it rolled down my neck. She cast of my head to the side and walked off. She is an angry climaxer and went off to be alone. "No more I moaned. I am done." With that I was untied, unblinded and lead to a cool down futon. I was held and toweled dry. I curled up with Tomas and fell asleep. It was such a great idea: equal rights for men and women. Where did it all go so horribly wrong? The problem is that while feminist rhetoric was all about freedom, feminist reality has turned out to be all about oppression. Instead of ridding us of stereotypical gender roles, feminism has forced us all into another set of stereotypical roles that no ordinary man or woman can ever hope to fulfill. Feminists are always on about the skinny, photoshopped models in fashion magazines that bare no resemblance to ordinary women. They're always nagging about women not being able to live up to that image, complaining about that image making ordinary women feel worthless. And you know what: they're right. Now, I rarely hear them about the pumped up steroid musclemen in the other magazines, which are equally difficult for men to live up to. So I'd like to throw that one into the complaint box as well as long as there is one. But all that doesn't really bother me. That's not the point I'm trying to make. The point is that the stereotypical feminist image of the successful career woman and of the male homemaker is equally impossible to live up to for the average woman or man. But we've been getting them force fed down our throats ever since we were kids. At least you have if you're my generation or younger. And that has misaligned our perception of the world completely. It has given us a set of values, requirements and obligations that no man or woman can ever live up to. We've been brainwashed at school with the idea that women have to have careers and men have to help in the home. The really sneaky bit is that feminists often tell us they are fine with girls who just want to be housewives. But in the meantime they regard 'just being a housewife' as a pathetic condition. They ridicule housewives. All that talent going to waste. Such a shame... Feminists make women who choose the traditional female gender role feel like they're worthless. They present statistics that women still don't reach as many high levels in industry and government and that they still don't have the same percentage of successful careers as men. And then they finish off by saying that this is a problem that has to be solved. In other words: housewives and other 'low achieving' women should feel guilty because they're causing a problem. Well, there is no problem. It's just the consequence of a smaller percentage of women wanting to have a career. However, women who choose not to have a career are still frowned upon. That's just not fair. A woman can only earn respect if she has a career. If women don't choose to have careers we need to implement morals and instigate political measures that force them into having careers, right? Wrong! Dead wrong. That's not freedom. That's blatant oppression. Mind you: for a government, that implicit force on both men and women to go and have careers is great. Twice the number of taxpayers! And twice the number of people working their ass off so they don't have time to think about what a shitty job their government is doing. That's a power-hungry politician's wet dream. And of course men have the same problems as women. We've been taught at school to believe we should share the responsibilities at home. So men should cook, clean, do the dishes... all that stuff. Now that's fine for men who enjoy that and have a knack for it. But let's face it: most men haven't. Now, I can cook and clean and do all that shit -- up to a point. I can keep my bachelor pad clean (although my mum would probably disagree, but doesn't everybody's mum do that?) and I can prevent myself from going hungry. Hell, if I say so myself: I can even cook a pretty damn good, elaborate dinner if I have to (which usually means: if I want to win a lady's heart -- or pussy for that matter). But my repertoire in the kitchen is very limited. I don't enjoy it. And while I can rebuild a small block V8 blindfolded in about four hours, I'm clumsy as hell in the kitchen. Come to think of it: preparing that elaborate dinner will take me about four hours as well. Anyway, the problem with all that is that we've been tricked into believing that we are worthless people if we cannot fulfill each other's classic gender roles. A woman that doesn't have and doesn't enjoy having a career is a pathetic, worthless creature. And a man that cannot cook and doesn't enjoy cooking is an equally worthless creature. We've all been brainwashed by school and society into thinking that. Feminists have forced their stereotypical model of what the world should be like according to them down our throats. That wouldn't be so bad if we could easily shake off the brainwashing and just be ourselves. But the damage has been done. It's become part of who we are. And it's ruining the lives of many of us: because we try to live up to those impossible standards and roles; because other people try to force us into those impossible roles; or even because we ourselves are forcing other people into these impossible roles. Yes, I admit: I'm guilty of that as well. All this is especially evident in relationships. In generations before us (and I'm a sixties model in case you were wondering) divorce was the exception. Each and every one of my parents and grandparents and the complete family tree as far as I could trace it back all consisted of married couples that stayed married until they died. In our current generation staying married is the exception. Divorce is the rule. And I'm sure that's for the most part because the list of things we look for in a partner is completely impossible to live up to. Most of us don't even realize that the requirements on our lists are contradictive. The feminist oppression we've all been brainwashed with is the big culprit. Most girls are born with a genetic preference for the classic man. The strong, silent hunter-gatherer who fights and struggles in the rat race with other hunter-gatherers to bring home the bacon and impregnate her and who leaves homemaking and nurturing the kids to the wife. Nothing wrong with that. Evolution has adapted us perfectly to those rules. Those classic gender roles worked perfectly for ages (except of course that society expected them from us which did limit our freedom). The trouble these days is that most girls have been brought up to believe that such a 'classic male chauvinist pig' isn't worthy of their respect, attention or love. And they certainly couldn't respect themselves if they were ever to fall for one of those men. There's a contradiction between their genetics and their upbringing. So they get married to the other kind of guy: the one who cooks and cleans and takes care of the kids. Then a few years down the line she leaves him for that hot Neanderthal she met at the gym. She marries the strong, silent Neanderthal and is quickly frustrated that he never helps her in the kitchen. A few million discussions that always start with her saying "We need to talk" later, she either leaves him, frustrated for not being able to change him. Or she succeeds in having him wear the apron and do the dishes for her and then she wonders why suddenly she isn't turned on by this sissy anymore. That's when her hormones kick in again and she goes out to find the next hot hunter-gatherer. It's a vicious circle with no end. Boys? Same thing. Genetically we still just want a really hot chick to fuck, pamper and shower with presents, and who in return can bear and bring up our children and take care of our home and our culinary needs. But we've been brought up to believe that a girl that can do all that (which in itself is already an amazing achievement) is not enough. We're brought up to believe that women who don't want careers are pathetic creatures, not worthy of our respect, attention and love. And that obviously we must lack self-respect if we would settle for 'just a waitress' or 'just a hairdresser' who chooses to stay home after marriage and make dinner for us. So we go out and look for women with goals and ambitions. We look for career women who are at least equally successful as we are. Only to find that they don't give us the sex, the meals and the childbearing that our genetics are after. Instead these women require us to do the cooking and cleaning for them, because obviously we need to give them all the time and support they need to be successful. Naturally a woman needs to work twice as hard to be as successful as a man. And on average once a week we have to conduct our own private therapy session where she slumps down on the couch and complains to you with tears in her eyes about all the elbowing and conniving that's been going on in the rat race at work again. So while you're holding down your own job and doing the dishes as well, the sex goes right down the toilet. And now either you leave her for that hot, little number behind the cash register where you do the weekly shopping or the wife looks at you wearing your silly little apron and runs right out the door into the arms of her skiing instructor. Let's face it: feminism has mentally raped us. If we play the traditional gender roles, we get disappointed and our relationships fall apart sooner or later. And if we play the feminist gender roles, the same thing happens. In order to be a husband in the twenty-first century you have to be a sissy and a real man all rolled into one. And in order to be a wife in the twenty-first century you have to be a girly girl and a career woman at the same time. Because all that's impossible, we're screwed and most of us wind up alone, unhappy or both. Don't get me wrong: I'm all for equal rights and opportunities. But I've come to realize that feminism hasn't brought us that. It's only brought us a new kind of oppression.

_This story was inspired by "The Experiment" by LittleTom. Many of this writer's stories end up with a man changed horribly against his will, with no return to any sort of normalcy. I thought that I might save this one._ I woke too early in the morning from an exhausted and unsatisfying sleep. I looked down at my wife, still dead to the world from her escapades of the night before. The sheet under her was damp with the fluids leaking from her and small bite marks on her breasts after sex with Will. That triggered something in my mind that I couldn't bring myself to think about. Looking down at the clothes I was still wearing from my ordeal of yesterday, I was suddenly repulsed. I frantically stripped the offensive garments from my body, and took a very hot shower, trying to clean something I couldn't see from my body. When I got out of the bathroom, I looked at my still sleeping wife, a rampage of emotions running through my head. I could hear the children beginning to stir, and got dressed quickly so I could deal with them before they woke my wife. When I got into their room, my oldest, ever more aware of her surroundings as the days of her childhood flew by, looked up into my eyes and frowned. "Why are you crying, Daddy?" A dam burst inside me, and I collapsed on the floor sobbing, gathering my children to me, as they all began to cry with me, none of us knowing what else to do. When she woke, I had coffee ready in the kitchen, and the children were deeply involved with the telly. My wife wouldn't look me in the eye, not that I would have been able to look in hers. We said little, dancing around the topic that I felt was eating us both alive. Eventually, I couldn't stand it anymore, and left the house "For a walk", I told her. I didn't even here her reply. As I walked along the path that she and I had walked many times, my mind whirled. What was I to do? What could I do? Were they right, did I need this somehow? My own arousal at the sight of my wife being taken disturbed me more than anything else. It seemed to say terrible things about me. And this was not completely my fault. I had set up the initial encounter, yes, as a way to add excitement to our sex lives, to fulfill some odd fantasy in my head, but that was all I did. My wife had called Charlie for the second encounter. Would any of the last few days events have taken place if all had stopped after the first encounter? Would I have let it end after that encounter? But the biggest thoughts in my head were of the children. Will last night, and the others on previous nights, had done all this to my wife while my children were in the house. Our oldest, Anna, was very perceptive, and I knew that she was getting disturbed by the tensions in the house. What if she had woken up with a nightmare, or a sudden cough? To have seen her Uncle Will, fucking her mother's brains out on the sofa while I was on my knees, handcuffed, a bucket of my own vomit in front of me... Suddenly it was clear to me what I had to do. I turned and strode back to the house with what I imagined was a determined look on my face. When I arrived back home, it was a little over an hour since I had left. I came to the door just as my in-laws were packing my children into their car. I had forgotten that they were going to spend the day and night with Grammy and Grandad. This would make the conversation that I planned to have a little easier. At least it wouldn't have to wait for them to go to bed. The earlier we started, the better. I kissed my little ones goodbye, and hugged my in- laws,. Karen looked at me a little strangely, I thought, though it might have been my paranoia. My wife and I waved good bye, and turned to go inside. As I inhaled to start what I feared would be the hardest conversation of my marriage, my wife informed me "Charlie called. He and Will are coming over tonight for dinner." She reddened. "And they are bringing a couple of friends." My resolve hardened at that moment. "No, call them and tell them that it's over. I want my life back, I want my marriage back. This is going to stop now." She slapped me! Hard enough to hurt, it brought tears to my eyes. "No! Didn't you learn last night? I told you that if you stayed, you would no longer have any choice. This is about giving up control. When you stayed last night, you gave up control. I told you. Now, " I interrupted her, perhaps for the first time in our marriage. "No! I stayed last night because, well, honestly, I don't know why. My mind was whirling, I was confused, I didn't even know that the time had passed. No conscious decision was made. But I cannot, I will not continue to go along with this process." I raised my hand to stop her protests. "I may have started this with my twisted fantasy of a threesome, but you continued it when you called Charlie back. You say that this is something that you need. Well, do you need it so badly that you are willing to destroy me in the process? Because that is what is happening. And I won't allow it. I can't allow it." "You don't have any choice in the matter." Her voice was no longer angry, she talked to me as if I were a child, trying to sooth me. "I love you, and want to spend the rest of my life with you. This is just something that I have to do now, while I still can. What you and I did that first night, it awoke something within me that will not be denied. It won't destroy you, I promise. You will come to understand as I do, and when this is all over, we will be able to grow old together, I promise." I looked at her with tears in my eyes and asked "But who will I be. What will I be." "You will be with me." She said firmly. "Now, get yourself cleaned up, and clean up this place. I have to go to the store to get food for the dinner tonight. We are having 5 guests, so make sure that the table is set appropriately. I will be back in a couple of hours." And with that, she went out the door. I cried by myself on the sofa for almost an hour, wondering what I was going to do. I thought again of last night, of my wife forcing my lips onto Will's cock, and of the snatches of whispered conversation I had heard the first night that they spent together. My resolved hardened again. I put on my pea coat, and picked up the small suitcase I had packed. I dropped the letter I had written on the table that I hadn't set, and walked out of the kitchen. As I went through the hall, I noticed the photo of the family that was on the small table there. All five of us, looking happy at Christmas last year.. I picked it up and put it into my bag, and walked to the door. _My Dear Wife,_ I cannot do this anymore. It is to my terrible shame that I am the one who started this, but I never envisioned where it was going. When it started, it was something exciting for us to do, to grow and experience together. Instead, it has become a nightmare. You are receiving something that you claim that I can't give you, something you need so terribly that nothing I say or do can dissuade you from getting it. You are getting terrible, exciting sexual adventures that leave you gasping in pleasure. I, on the other hand, am being destroyed, piece by piece. My manhood is being ripped from me. I receive pain, torture, humiliation, and worse, deceit from the woman I love more than anything in the world. You told me last night that you didn't think that you could stay if it were you. The thoughts running through my head as you left were confused, scattered. I was barely aware of the time passing, when you and my former friend came back. But the strongest thought, the one that won out, was of our children. If I left, they would have to go through the pain of a divorce, and that they might find out what I had done, what you had done.... I couldn't do that to them. But then you and he came back. And did that to me, and in front of me. I said former friend, and I mean that. You told me that he is a friend still, but no friend I can imagine, even in my nightmares, could do what he has done and still remain a friend. I regret every kindness I ever showed him when his wife left him. In payment, he is ripping my heart out. You may tell him that, word for word. I can't do this anymore. What started out as an experiment, a chance to try something new, has turned into something horrible, at least for me. For you, well, you say that you are getting what you want and need. You have had more orgasms and sex in the last few weeks than in our entire married lives, you are being fulfilled. You are enjoying the attentions of men I can never hope to match. I am being destroyed. I am getting pain and humiliation. You led me to believe that I might be getting some of my own grand sexual adventures yesterday, but you deceived me, didn't you? You knew that instead, I would be getting more pain and humiliation, and no sexual release whatsoever, so that you could enjoy something at my expense. You get what you want and need, I get a wife who deceives me. And when I don't come home and jump for joy at the events of the day, you beat me and force me to take into my mouth the cock of a former friend before and after he fucks you as I sit bound in the same room. WITH MY CHILDREN UPSTAIRS! My sexual experiences have paled before yours. The few orgasms I have had lately have been horrid, painful affairs, hardly more enjoyable than the beating you gave me last night. The sole exception is the "good doggy" blowjob you bestowed upon me after your first night of marvelous sex with Will, making it clear that I was destined to be a pet at best. You say that you will be so lonely if I leave, but how can I believe that, when you have your lovers at your side, ready to humiliate and hurt me, with a simple phone call. How lonely will you really be? You say that you love me still, I cannot believe that you love me now; I don't even believe that you like me. And then this morning, our oldest, ever more perceptive every day, asked me why I was crying, why I was so sad. And I had nothing to tell her. I had a vision of her leaving her bed at strange sounds coming from the living room, and seeing you getting fucked on the couch while I was handcuffed in the corner, your lover's semen on my face. I broke down then, gathering all our children to me as we sobbed on the floor. That is why I am leaving. It is clear to me now that the end result of all this is to turn me into less than a man, a thing that quails at the sound of your voice, that waits up for you to return from your romps with your alpha males, that keeps house and reputation intact for you. Last night I stayed because I couldn't let the children face a divorce. Today I leave because I cannot become this thing that you want me to be - a thing that no child could respect or love; that no woman could ever respect or love. I have hated myself more every day, and I must stop the hate before it overwhelms me. Better for our children to have a divorced father than a shameful thing that cowers in the corner. I hope that you will let me see my beloved children. I will regret to my dieing day the fact that I ever started this. Your Husband I quietly closed and locked the door behind me, and walked down the street. I have written stories in a variety of categories, and they have received some criticism, some praise, and some no responses. However, I have been amazed at some of the responses to my stories about cuckolds. Even an essay about cuckolds with no plot and no characters got vicious attacks. The responses have been violent, angry, - raw, primitive, emotional anger. If you could shout in print, they were shouting. To get a better idea of what was going on, I went to the Loving Wives section and looked for comments on other cuckold stories. I found a few, but surprisingly few compared to the comments on my stories. I have talked with several friends to get their opinions and I got three theories. I thought I would share them with you readers and ask what you think, so here they are. Please share your thoughts with me. The first theory is that there is a dedicated, committed bunch of guys out there who regularly read cuckold stories, get mad, and leave ugly comments – but most authors delete the comments so I don't see them when I look at their cuckold stories. This leads to my first question. It is for the authors of cuckold stories. Do you get these ugly comments and delete them? Let me know – anonymously - if you wish. The second theory is a bit more involved so follow me closely. There are out there a number of virtuous people who feel a need to criticize sin when they see it. Now I am sure there are many virtuous people in our world who quite justifiably criticize sin. But, help me to understand why they are such devoted readers of Literotica.com. Do they feel that getting angry will make sinners stop writing cuckold stories? So my question to people who get angry at cuckold stories is this: If you tell me you don't like stories about sinful people, do you think I'll stop writing them if you get angry with me? The third theory is even more complex. Some people do not like cuckold stories. I can understand that – I don't like bondage stories. These people come in two flavors: the ones who don't read cuckold stories because they don't like them (like me with bondage stories) and the ones who do read them and then get angry. But why read the story if you know it will make you angry? And why get angry at only a few cuckold stories and not at all of them (assuming authors don't always delete angry comments). This last question is a very interesting one for analysis. Some of my friends have suggested something like this. It is analogous to the problem some homosexuals had many years ago when society made life hell for gays (before they were called gays). In those ugly days some gay guys might suppress their natural homosexual emotions so severely that these emotions would not be in their conscious minds. This was a time when Freud was much more respectable than he is today - when behavioral and biochemical psychiatry have undermined some of the fundamental tenets of psychoanalysis. Not to deny recent chemical theories of psychosis, Freud had some valid theories of neuroses, as anyone who has ever encountered hysterical paralysis will testify. There are many published cases of what once was diagnosed as "homosexual panic" (Kempf, 1920) resulting from an individual whose repressed homosexual tendencies were brought close to the surface of consciousness by some event – say a repressed homosexual assigned to a male barracks. This threat, in turn triggered a desperate (almost psychotic) attempt to deal with this major unpleasantness and thus the "homosexual panic" syndrome. Some of my friends have suggested to me that the big time anger at my cuckold stories may, in fact, be analogous to this panic syndrome in that the angry people are angry because a repressed cuckold fetish is brought to near consciousness by my writing. This, they tell me, is a compliment to my writing because most cuckold stories do not affect them as deeply and emotionally as mine do. I have corresponded with more than one reader and critic – very rational guys – polite and reasonable – each of whom, I think, has a repressed cuckold fetish. If this is so – and I admit it may not be – then such guys must have a deep suspicion of their wives activities and a preoccupation with unfaithful wives. A preoccupation with fantasies of unfaithful wives who must be constantly watched, their faithfulness verified and rewarded – or their unfaithfulness discovered and punished. All of us have met and enjoyed foot fetishists who are funny and boob fetishists who all guys understand. But wanting to watch your wife get fucked? Wow! That's different from wanting to sniff dirty panties. If it doesn't turn you on you say, "How the hell can a guy get off watching his..." But think about it from the fetish point of view. Feet – do they turn you on? Dirty panties – do they turn you on? Ask enough questions like this and pretty soon you start saying "Okay – what turns you on just turns you on! It's all okay – I guess." The problem is not that the cuck fetish turns some guys on – the problem is that in Western Society (in contrast to Inuit society, for example) men have deep feelings of property rights regarding their wives. Fucking his wife is analogous, in his mind, to stealing his Ford from his driveway. Of course men are required to forget that the Ford is a machine and the wife is a person (personhood for women being a recent addition to Western Civilization). And so the repression. The cuck fetish, like homosexual desire, is repressed below the conscious level. A really good erotic story, like an all male barracks, brings the fetish too close to the conscious level of attention, resulting in: Threat! Anger! Strike back! Angry words! Shout! Scream! (No! Not scream! Girls scream – real men shout.) Well, that's the theory. Now I expect the usual violently angry words from those threatened by the views of my friends. But what about those of you out there without a cuck fetish, or those with a cuck fetish who play with their dicks and enjoy it. Tell me dear readers – what do you think? Are there hidden, repressed cucks out there? You tell me. "You're not my dad and you can't tell me what to do!" Jodie saw David flinch at the all too familiar accusation, but she didn't care. It was true. Just because he was living here now, it didn't give him any rights. None at all. He was nothing to her, although, in her more lucid moments, she knew he wasn't so bad really. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do, we just—" But Jodie wasn't listening anymore. She shoved past him, grabbed her phone, and stormed outside into the street slamming the door in her wake with a satisfying bang. The wind chimes hanging from the front porch twirled and sang their lilting song. The path to the cove was deserted. A stiff salty breeze whipped the tall sea grass as she jogged along, and high above, gulls cawed hungrily as the last vestiges of the pale sun dipped low in the sky. It was still unseasonably warm for October, but there was an undeniable bite in the air and Jodie suddenly wished she had picked her coat up from the hall. It was too late now. She had no desire to head back yet. Anger still scorched through her veins as she finally slowed down to a fast walk. Her scuffed trainers sank into the soft sand as the path meandered through the dunes. With the sun barely hovering on the distant horizon, the light was fading fast and the purple shadows reached out to her from the deep hollows and clefts between tufts of tough sea grass. The sound of the surf grew ever nearer, but all Jodie heard were the voices clamouring in her brain. Again and again the argument played out like a scratched disc. "The house needs to be sold. We can't stay here—it isn't going to be big enough." Jodie couldn't bear the thought of leaving. It was her home. What if he came back and they weren't there? "You can't make me leave." She screwed her face up and stared at David stubbornly. He and her mother exchanged glances before Annette spoke softly, "Sweetheart, I know you love this house, but it's just not practical now we're expecting a baby." Annette stroked her bump distractedly and Jodie fought the urge to stamp her feet like a little kid. Why did they not care what she wanted? It felt like she was irrelevant now—an irritating blip in their otherwise perfect lives. "My friends are here." She scowled petulantly. "You'll make new ones." Annette sounded confident, but they both knew Jodie didn't make friends easily. "Look Jodie, your mum's not doing this to spite you. We only want what's best for all of us." David crossed his arms impatiently and tapped his foot against the table leg. Jodie had heard enough. She was tired of bloody David interfering. They had been perfectly happy before he came along and she wished he would stop trying to pretend that this decision was the right one. It wasn't. At least not for her. He wasn't her dad and the sooner he pissed off and left them, the better. Steps meandered through the rocks and Jodie hopped down them easily, her feet finding the smooth concrete despite the wind blowing sand across her path. She tucked her hands deep inside the pockets of her hooded top as she walked across the beach, heading for the cliffs that loomed out of the dusk further along. By the time she had reached the rocky promontory, white foam was crashing on to the jagged rocks. The wind caught her hair and plastered it across her cheeks like seaweed. It was cold now, but Jodie was oblivious. They didn't care about her, so why should she rush back? They were probably relieved to be rid of her for a few hours. If only her real dad was around—then she could have gone to live with him instead of being forced to put up with stupid David. But her real dad was long gone. It had been several years since the last dog-eared postcard had slipped on to the front door mat with a few words scrawled on the reverse. _If you need me, I'll be there, love you xxx_ Jodie had kept it, hidden carefully between the pages of an old notebook. From time to time she took the gaudy picture out and studied the note, trying to see if there was a hidden message between the lines. Surely her dad hadn't just dropped off the face of the planet? He had promised in a brief phone call the month before to send her a plane ticket so she could fly out and stay with him, but it had never arrived. For weeks she had waited patiently. Every time the postman walked down the path Jodie's heart had jumped a mile. Surely that day the ticket would arrive and then all the kids at school would stop calling her a liar. But it never came. That had been the last she'd heard from him. "He's probably been sent on a secret mission," she'd told the kids at school, but they had laughed at her openly, so she had shut up and retreated into her customary shell of sullen muteness. It smelt of rank seaweed and cigarettes in the cave. Jodie wrinkled her nose up and climbed over the large boulder that partially blocked the entrance, relieved to be out of the wind. At the back of the cave, piles of soft sand had collected and she sat down and tucked her knees up beneath her chin. She couldn't see much any more. Dusk had turned into night in the blink of an eye and the only light was from the houses on the headland far away. She could just about make out the remains of a fire in the damp gloom and she wondered who had been here recently. Probably Mikey Harris and his mates she thought with annoyance. They were all deadbeats. At least there was no chance of them turning up tonight—Mikey had been arrested a couple of days ago for vandalising the village institute. He was currently being held on remand at a juvenile detention centre as far as she was aware. The thought of Mikey being banged up for a couple of years made her smile with sudden amusement. She had never forgiven him for making her life hell in junior school. "You're so ugly, even your dad couldn't stand to look at you and that's why he left!" Mikey had cackled and all his mates grinned as Jodie's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Jodie stared at his shiny new Nike trainers and wished she could be like the other kids with their trendy clothes and endless supply of cool stuff. Instead she had to wear the same jeans, day in and day out because her mum couldn't afford to buy her anything else. It was at times like that she hated her dad for leaving them. But she always forgave him again. It hadn't been his fault, she reasoned. Her mum had nagged him too much—that was why he had left in the end. She chose to ignore the niggling memories of him being drunk and her mum crying because her housekeeping money had been blown on the 3:15 at York. Once David had appeared on the scene, things had been a little easier, but by then Jodie had been running wild and his attempts at discipline only led to arguments. Jodie didn't like being told to come in at fixed times. She was too used to wandering off for hours, walking for miles across the cliffs to watch the gulls nesting far below in the rocky outcrops that punctuated the coastline. She certainly didn't need her mum siding with him every time he picked a fight with her. "It's not safe for you to be out all hours," he shouted as she stared at him in sullen silence. "I told you to be in at eight and now it's gone eleven. Your mum's been worried sick!" "Yeah, right," Jodie muttered. Her mum was already asleep most likely. There was a pulse throbbing wildly in David's temple and Jodie wondered for a moment if he might keel over from a heart attack or something. But it was doubtful. So she kicked her sandy pumps off and walked away, ignoring the look of anger that swept over his face. "Don't you leave this room—" The words washed over her like white noise as she climbed the stairs to her attic room and closed the door on him and the rest of the world. Jasper opened one yellow eye and contemplated her for a sleepy moment. His belly began to vibrate with purrs as she flopped down beside his fat body and stroked him gently. The only one who ever gave a damn was the cat—and that was only because Jodie let him sleep on her bed at night, despite her mum's complaints about the grey furry patches he left behind on the expensive cream bed cover David had bought for Jodie. She hated the stupid cover anyway and took great delight in allowing Jasper to sleep on her bed. His slow, rhythmic purring soothed her, along with the sound of waves crashing on the beach in the small hours before dawn when she couldn't sleep. "He's an arsehole," she told Jasper morosely. "I wish he'd fuck off and leave us alone." The cat blinked at her before closing his eyes again. Jodie followed suit and within seconds she was sound asleep, her long mousy hair spread out on the hated cream bed cover. She awoke with a start. Water was lapping at the entrance to the cave and the temperature had dropped considerably. What had previously been a soft pile of sand and turned into a hard bed of stone that dug into her body painfully. The luminous dial of her watch told Jodie it was late and she silently cursed. The tide had been turning when she first came here and now there was a very real chance she might find herself cut off from the path up the cliff. She stood her mind still foggy with sleep. Outside the wind was howling and she shivered at the thought of wading through the icy sea. This time of year the currents were unpredictable and although she was a strong swimmer, she wasn't too sure if she would be able to hold her own, but she couldn't stay here and risk drowning. If the tides were higher than normal, the cave would flood. So she ventured out towards the mouth of the cave and peered into the night. There was no moon, only black sky and a harsh wind that sucked the breath from her lungs. Waves crashed against the cliffs further up the beach and for the first time Jodie began to feel truly afraid. The water was up to her ankles all ready and she was a long way from the cliff steps. To reach safety would mean scrabbling across the rocks as the beach was under water by now. Trying not to think about the possibility of drowning, Jodie began to climb across the large rocks that shielded her cave from the ever more encroaching sea. The wet lumps of granite were slippery with slimy sea weed and several times she nearly fell. Her jeans slapped wetly against her cold legs and her trainers squelched every time she moved. A huge wave crashed over Jodie and for a moment she thought she was going to be sucked back into the water, but she clung on to the rock like a limpet, her heart thumping with fear. Eventually the water receded, leaving her frozen and shivering, but still relatively safe. Aware that every second she hesitated the tide rose further up the beach, Jodie waded through the pools towards the cliff face as fast as she could manage. Finally she reached the beginning of the path just as another wave surged up the beach. It broke at the foot of the rocks and for a moment she was submerged in ice water, unable to breathe as the current sucked at her feet. She could feel her body being pulled by the force of the tide and her numb fingers began to lose their grip. A sense of calm resignation descended as she felt her body floating free from the safety of the cliff path. She wondered if they would miss her. Probably not, she thought sadly. Now they wouldn't need to move to a bigger house. Somebody grabbed Jodie's arm and yanked her from the water. Shock jolted her out of the chilly reverie and she felt herself being pulled upwards as her feet found the edge of the steps. Coughing and choking on the sea water, she tried to focus on her rescuer. The familiar brown hair, the old wax jacket with the patched sleeve, and the gold signet ring he always wore. It couldn't be...could it? "Dad?" Tears mixed with the rain as she struggled up the path half supported by her father's arms. They reached the top and her beloved dad turned and smiled at her, his hand still holding hers tightly. "You're safe now," he told her, his voice almost lost in the howling wind. By the time they reached the deserted car park, Jodie was almost dropping with exhaustion. She was cold, so cold. Her wet hooded top was doing nothing to keep the wind out and her teeth chattered violently. Only her dad's arm around her waist kept her moving and she concentrated on him fiercely. They moved along the path along the edge of the lane, heading back towards the village. Jodie tried to ask him why he had come back, but every time she opened her mouth, the wind whipped her words away and eventually she gave up. She would have to wait and ask him once they were safe, back at the house. By the time they reached the familiar white picket fence around Jodie's garden, she wanted to cry with joy. All the stupid arguments of late seemed unimportant. She loved her mum and David wasn't so bad really. He tried his best to make things better for them all and Jodie knew in her heart that her mum had been happy since she met him. Now her dad had come back, maybe everything would work out for them all. Surely he would have had a good reason for staying away all this time. She turned to ask him, but to her surprise he wasn't there. "Dad?" she cried, but her own voice echoed back hopelessly. "Jodie!" David flung the door open and pulled her inside. "Where have you been? We've been worried sick about you!" His face was white and strained and Jodie burst into tears as the shock began to take hold. The words refused to come and she felt dizzy and sick. Her legs wobbled dangerously and she fell forward into David's arms as darkness enveloped her. * * * Sunlight was shining across the cream bedcover when Jodie opened her eyes again. Jasper lay in a hollow beside her, his soft furry belly exposed as he purred softly. The clock beside her bed told her it was nearly midday and for a moment she lay there puzzled, trying to work out why she had slept so long. Then she remembered the events of the night before: the argument, storming off down to the beach, becoming trapped by the tide...her dad. Dad! She tried to move, but her legs felt like jelly and she fell backwards on to the pillow crossly. Just as she was about to make a second attempt, her bedroom door swung open and her mum appeared with a mug of tea. "How are you feeling?" she asked carefully. Jodie could see the dark circles beneath her mother's eyes and she felt horribly guilty. "I'm okay," she replied, unable to look at her directly. Her mum walked over, her swollen belly stretching the old tee shirt she was wearing. With a slight grimace she passed Jodie the mug and sat down on the bed. "There's something we need to talk about," she began, but Jodie interrupted her. "Where's Dad! He was here last night, he saved me!" "No, no, that's impossible—" "Why won't you believe me?" Jodie stared in disbelief at her mother's wan face. "I was caught by the tide and he pulled me out of the water..." Jodie clammed up when she saw her mum's expression of horror. "But I'm fine now," she added hurriedly. "Lucky Dad was there. So where is he? I want to see him!" "Jodie," her mum began softly. "Your Dad couldn't have been there last night. After you ran off we had a phone call from Auntie Meg, your dad's sister." Her mum reached out and grasped Jodie's hand tightly. "Your dad was killed in a car accident two days ago. She only found out last night and then she called me." "But he..." Jodie's mind refused to comprehend what she was hearing. It didn't make sense. He was there last night! "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but he's really gone." The tears came without Jodie even realising she was crying. She didn't understand how, but Dad had been with her last night. He had been there when she needed him, just like she always knew he would be... _He loved her._

Lilith met Governor Daniel Bridge by way of an introduction from Thomas Peterson, Chief Executive Officer of International Indemnity, an insurance and financial conglomerate. Peterson had spotted her strolling through the Comdex exhibits on November 16th. Thomas Peterson was a major contributor to Governor Bridge's campaigns and other political endeavors. He also played a more important role as far as the governor was concerned. Peterson arranged assignations for the governor. Wild and kinky sex with beautiful young women. He often paid these women several thousand dollars for a few hours of accommodating the governor's increasingly bizarre fantasies. The governor had become impatient of late because he was becoming bored with the usual fare of Vegas dancers and strippers. The woman was beyond description was Peterson's first thought at first sight. She looked like an angel but yet like a devil. Extraordinarily beautiful but dangerous looking. Eyes followed her like magnets. Very tall, well over six foot in those spiked heels. Platinum blonde hair although Thomas was pretty sure it was a wig, green eyes and a strange beauty mark on her forehead. She was wearing an incredible neon green lace dress with a g-string. You could see right through it. Absolutely stunning. Peterson approached her and she didn't blink an eye when he handed her five one hundred dollar bills along with his business card. "For a brief conversation," he offered as he introduced himself. "Please tell me about yourself in twenty-five words or less." The woman introduced herself as Eileen MacGregor and produced identification although she said her professional name was Lilith. Said she was a model from AdultDex which was going on at the same time as Comdex and also had starred in very exclusive porn films that were only available to select clientele. Peterson asked her if she did kinky. Lilith responded, "I am a Baobhan Sith, an evil Scottish fairie who appears as a beautiful young woman dressed in green who dances with a man until he is exhausted and then feeds upon him." Thomas knew he had found the right one and the governor would be very pleased. He made arrangements to meet Lilith the next night because she insisted she had prior commitments for the remainder of the day. At this point he told her no details other than he would pay her $10,000 for an evening's adventure. Daniel Bridge was in his second and last term as governor of a large eastern state. Everyone knew of his vice presidential aspirations for 2000. He was thought by many to be the most interesting person in national Republican politics other than the presidential candidates themselves. If they only knew just how interesting he was. The current political thinking was that if the GOP should not win the White House, the governor would go back into his favored underdog position and run for president himself in 2004. The governor, members of his staff and the rest of his menagerie had been in Silicon Valley investigating various hardware and software alternative strategies that the governor could employ on a statewide basis, or nationally if the opportunity arose. Thomas Peterson had initially suggested the ploy to garner national media attention and as a jab at that candidate from the other party who claimed he invented the internet. Peterson also had set up a weekend in Redmond, Washington at the unearthly $50 million abode of the world's richest person and most famous CEO. Governor Bridge, Thomas Peterson, and their cronies and security people were staying in a famous hotel overlooking the Strip and adjacent to the Las Vegas Convention Center. They occupied the entire top floor, mostly for security purposes. The governor's suite alone cost Peterson over $1,500 a night. Peterson had told Lilith to meet him in the hotel's nightclub at 9:00 PM and to ask for his table. He was anxiously staring at his Rolex and fidgeting nervously. The governor did not like to be kept waiting. Finally she made her grand appearance at 9:30 PM. She was wearing an elegant designer green satin floor-length dress with a plunging "V" lace back. Slit high in front and strapless, with a sweetheart neckline, it left her shoulders beautifully bare. Around her neck was an Iron Cross on a chain. He could tell it was authentic and recognized it as the 1939 edition by the swastika although he could not actually read the date without his glasses. Thomas was mesmerized and almost speechless at the sight of this demonic diva. The color of the satin dress matched her eyes perfectly he thought; flaming green. He got right to business because he knew the governor would be angry because of the delay. "Lilith," he began as he slipped her the envelope containing the $10,000, "I want you to entertain my friend the governor. Discretion is of utmost importance. We agreed on kinky. I'll leave the details of that requirement to what I assume is your unimaginable imagination. Should this evening prove, well, mutually rewarding, there could be future assignations." Lilith stared Thomas down, smirked seductively and replied, "This will be a night your friend the governor will never forget." Thomas sighed and thought if only it were he who was about to enjoy whatever divine revelations this very strange and very exotic beauty had in mind. "I have no doubt. When we get up to the governor's room you will be searched by security, patted down. Your purse, anything you want to remove now?" "Well, what about my, you know, special equipment?" Out of her very large purse, it was more like a small suitcase, she pulled out the prisoner of love set of four fur and satin cuffs and the wrist to thigh restraints. And then the 18" round braided cat o-nine whip. An artillery shell butt plug, an oriental love ring, a strap-on dildo and various other interesting items were included in her arsenal. She had already slipped the miniature tube color lipstick video camera into the crotch of her fishnet suspender pantyhose. "And what are you going to do with those?" Thomas laughed, almost giggling. "That's nothing the security people haven't seen before. I just want to make sure you don't have a gun or drugs or a tape recorder or some such thing in your purse." They went up to the top floor. Lilith passed the security check with flying colors and flashing tits. It may have been slipping the top of her dress down to her waist and demanding, "Search me!" which melted the ice and the business-like look on the faces of these hard cases. She left the governor's security and other staff who caught her act gasping for breath. Thomas opened the door to the governor's room, let Lilith enter and shut the door behind her. He went back down to the nightclub and sat at the bar, nursing a scotch and soda. Peterson was puzzled and mulled over something Lilith had said. A bible quotation as he recalled. Something about the life of the soul resides in the blood. He chuckled to himself. If he believed in vampires she would have been a likely candidate he thought. An evil Scottish fairie who feeds on men indeed. Daniel Bridge was stunned by the entrance of this woman into his room. His jaw dropped and his eyes bulged. He was grasping for words when she spoke first. "My name is Lilith. Mistress Darkness to you." Daniel was fairly tall, six foot four inches. Lilith was taller in her five inch patent leather spikes. He was fifty-four and prided himself on his physical condition. She pushed him effortlessly against the wall, grabbed him by the necktie and ground her lips against his. He could taste his own blood on his tongue. "Lil, Lilith... " he stammered. Clutching him by the throat with both hands, she pushed his head up and spat in his face, "My name is Mistress Darkness." She bit his neck hard and he could feel her teeth puncture his skin and he could see the blood dripping on his white shirt. Suddenly Lilith released him and startled him with, "Let's dance! But first some of that champagne?" and she pointed to the ice bucket. Opening the bottle and pouring two glasses, she slipped the juice of the emerald green blister beetle, the cantharis vesicatoria, into his drink. It was a rather large dosage of the Spanish Fly and she anticipated it would not take very long to begin to have an effect. Lilith flipped on the TV to MTV and started gyrating to "Got Cha Money" by Ol' Dirty Bastard. "Say hey! Baby I got cha money. Say hey! Baby I got cha money," she sang as she danced. Daniel was soon doing the same. "Breathe and Stop" by Q-tip was next and Lilith picked up the pace. Fifteen minutes later Daniel was exhausted from trying to follow her lead and sat on the bed to catch his breath. "Mistress Darkness demands you take off your clothes. All of them." She helped him off with his shirt and pants and pulled his boxer shorts off in a smooth motion as he lifted his legs. Just as quickly and smoothly Lilith had him in the cuffs and wrist to thigh restraints before he even had time to think about what was happening. "Stay there on the bed. Don't move!" she commanded. Lilith retrieved the oriental love ring with the dangling ties for scrotum stimulation from her bag. Daniel's penis was soft now due more to fear and apprehension than lack of interest. She easily slipped on the cock ring and began to suck him slowly and softly until he began to show signs of life. Once he was sufficiently rigid she stopped. She stood up and slipped off the green satin dress. No bra. Daniel stared at her ripe breasts with lustful admiration. The very erect tips of her nipples seemed to be pointing right at him saying "suck me." Lilith reached in the front of her fishnet suspender pantyhose and pulled out the miniature tube lipstick video camera and set it on the dresser facing the bed and turned it on. Daniel began to protest and she slapped his face hard. "Do not speak unless Mistress Darkness commands you to do so." The platinum blonde wig came off next and Lilith let her long black shining tresses flow down her back and over her shoulders. She put the wig on the governor and adjusted it. Next she fetched the real tube of bright red lipstick from her bag and colored his lips. Then she pulled out the black silk brassiere and stuffed it with wash cloths from the bathroom. "Oh my, governor," she cooed at him as she put it on him, "don't you just make a sweet little thing! I think I'm going to bang you silly. Your name is now Danielle and you are going to get it right up the bum, girlfriend." The governor began to protest again. Lilith slapped him harder and screamed, "I said shut up, bitch! Now get on all fours on the bed, stick your ass up in the air and stay that way." She laid a few strokes with the whip across his bare bottom as he yelped in pain. Red welts soon appeared on his pale skin. "Oh poor baby! Poor Danielle! Did Mistress Darkness hurt you? I'll make it all better." Next she got the jar of cold cream, coated her hands and began to massage it into his buns and over the welts, cooling the burn. Dipping into the jar with her middle finger, she pulled it out thoroughly coated and with a big dab on the tip. "Let me ask you, Danielle my dearest, did you ever take it up the bum?" Lilith ran her white finger down his crack and thrust it wickedly into his puckered hole as he cried out in shock. "Oh, I can tell. Somebody has been spreading your cheeks, girlfriend." Twisting her finger back and forth and pushing it further and further inside him, she said, "You got room for a big bad dick. We are going to find out just how big!" It was time for the artillery shell butt plug. It was made of soft, resilient golden jelly. Lilith inserted it into the governor's already well-lubricated rectal cavity. As she teased and tortured his nerve clusters and prostate, she told him stories. "You know, of course, that in some societies anal rape of a defeated male enemy was considered almost the duty of the victor in battle as proof of the finality of the defeat. A male who is humiliated in this manner can no longer rule. He must defer to the rule of the one who has subdued him." "Lawrence of Arabia was afforded such treatment when he was captured by the Turks. Only one of many such episodes throughout history. It all goes back to Sodom and Gomorrha. Nephilim who survived the Flood, descendents of the fallen angels and the first Lilith and her sisters, developed an obsessive compulsion for sodomy. Are you familiar with the 19th chapter of Genesis? Lot offers up his two virgin daughters to dissuade the Sodomites but they are more interested in homosexual relations with the two strangers. And now it's your turn to be humiliated, governor, and from this day on Mistress Darkness will be your master." Out of Lilith's bag now came the strap-on harness and she put it on and securely fastened the huge ding dong dildo. She got up on behind the governor. He had slumped down slightly and she screamed, "Get your ass up in the air, bitch!" and he did quickly. "Now, I want you to beg. I want to hear 'Fuck me Mistress Darkness' over and over and over. If you stop I will hurt you." The governor began to chant the required words. "Louder, Danielle, you fucking slut. You dumb cunt. Louder!" He complied. Lilith kept pounding away in the governor's ass, at the same time biting his neck and ears until they bled. With her left hand she steadied the monster she was sticking inside him and reached her other long arm underneath him and stroked his cock with her right hand. He was squealing and squirming and whimpering but, being restrained as he was and because of her strength and frenzied energy, he had no chance of shaking loose from the brutal butt bumping he was enduring. Finally it became obvious to Lilith that despite the pain and humiliation, the governor was close to orgasm. "Oh oh, is Danielle gonna cum? Hold on honey, not just yet." She suddenly pulled the monster dildo out and took it off quickly. Sliding beneath him, she licked and nibbled the tip of his cock and demanded, "Fuck my mouth, fuck my mouth hard!" She opened those luscious inviting lips to accept him and he thrust down her throat as far as he could in some sort of act of revenge. Best he could muster at the moment. He was quite well-endowed and amazed his entire cock disappeared. He pounded her mouth hard just as she had pounded his ass. Faster and faster and harder and harder until he exploded down her throat as he screamed in ecstasy with the most intense and incredible orgasm he had ever experienced. As he began to cum Lilith bit the base of his cock violently and shook her head violently like a tiger dispensing with a chunk of raw meat. She released the grip with her teeth and pulled his bleeding member in and out of her mouth as he came and came and she licked and swallowed every bit of his gift to her. Lilith pushed him off her face and onto his side on the bed. Quickly dressing, she yanked the platinum blonde wig from the governor and put it back on her own head. She turned off the miniature tube lipstick video camera and put it back down the front of her fishnet suspender pantyhose. Then she removed the envelope containing the $10,000 from her purse and threw it on the bed and walked out the door, leaving the governor in his state of restraint. A security guard escorted her down the elevator and into the lobby. He made a call and the valet brought her transportation to the front entrance. She put on her classic German army helmet with the Y-strap, hiked up her dress and mounted her 1951 Panhead and roared off into the night. The governor is wondering when he will hear from Lilith again. It all began with Polly, about 24 years old and a picture postcard Australian blonde. Although Polly is quite bright with plenty of initiative she cannot seem to avoid presenting me work with careless typo's and spelling mistakes. Whenever I gently chide her for not taking more care with her work she is quite dismissive and says that near enough is good enough and that I am too pedantic. Finally one day it was all too much for me and I told her that if she did not pull her socks up and improve the quality of her work I would be pulling her dress up and improving the quality of her discipline. To my surprise she responded, "Fair enough," and went off to transcribe a short tape that I had just dictated. About ten minutes later she came in to my office with the first draft of the document that I had dictated and told me that she had proofread it to make sure that there were no errors as she did not wish to cause me any further irritation. You can imagine my surprise at finding the client's name spelled wrongly in the very first line of the address. Without reading any more of the letter I handed it back to her with the warning that I would give her another chance to fix the errors before administering appropriate corporal punishment to help her avoid careless errors in the future. She returned after a few minutes telling me that she was now satisfied that the letter was perfect, and she was confident that I would not find any errors. I got as far as the first sentence before finding the reference to the client's letter that I had "received" that morning. Six other mistakes in spelling or punctuation were also found. I told Polly that she was to stay back after work when we would deal with what should be done about her unacceptable performance. She insolently responded by telling me that she had shopping to do and that our discussion would have to wait for a more convenient time. I told her in no uncertain terms that I was her boss and that she was to do as I directed and stay back after work, or else not come in tomorrow or any other day. "I'm so sorry Boss -- I really need my wage and can't afford to be sacked." "Well, in that case you will need to undergo my special obedience training course so I can be satisfied that you will be a suitable employee for me." "Yes, I agree!" was her desperately blurted response, without even enquiring as to what that involved. After others had left our section of the office that afternoon I called Polly into my office. "I've given the matter careful thought, Polly, but I've concluded that your behaviour and attitude are not acceptable. I have decided to terminate your services." Polly burst into tears, "I need my wage to support my mother. I can't afford to start looking for alternative employment, especially if you don't give me a satisfactory reference." "Polly," I said sternly, "if you wish to remain in my employment you will have to sign an obedience undertaking which includes a voluntary submission to whatever form of corporal punishment I deem appropriate, as well as other disciplinary measures which I may decide are needed in your particular case." Without further discussion the forms of undertaking and submission (which I had conveniently to hand in a nearby "private and confidential" file) were duly executed. "Empty the entire contents of your handbag onto my desk," I instructed. "Why..." she began to ask, but before she could finish the question I interrupted her. "Rule number one is that you must do precisely as I instruct you. You must never question my instructions." She said nothing further but looked at me intently as I began examining the items on my desk. Polly's handbag contained the normal sorts of junk that most women seem to cart around but two items in particular caught my attention. One was a plastic-handled hair brush which Polly used to keep her hair shiny and well groomed; the other was a partly frayed power cord from an appliance that Polly had meant to take in for repairs. "Return all these items to your handbag," I directed, retaining two items which had interested me. "Please sit on my desk with your legs dangling over the front facing me," I said still sitting in my office chair right in front of her. She looked puzzled but readily complied. She was wearing a reasonably well tailored outfit with matching navy blue jacket and short skirt, with a crisp white blouse. Polly's blue eyes looked at me demurely as she sat with her knees properly together and her hands on each side of her resting on the edge of my desk. The gap formed between the taut skirt and her thighs was obscured by a sagging fold in the looser slip beneath. Her legs were clad in body coloured stockings and her shoes were polished leather appropriately colour matched to the balance of her outfit. She observed me with slight bemusement as I cast my eyes over her sitting before me. "Well, now what?" she shrugged after about a minute's silence. "Polly," I said sternly, "please listen carefully and do exactly as I tell you." "OK," she responded, with just a hint of impatience in her voice. "Your first task is to recite a list of what clothing you are wearing," I said, "so that I can determine your ability to accurately describe things." "You can see what I'm wearing already - you've just been staring at me for 5 minutes," she shot back impudently. "This is not a good start, Polly," I said. "You have agreed to obey my instructions without question. I want you to describe what you are wearing mentioning each item in the order in which you would ordinarily remove it when you undress". As soon as Polly had said "One pair of navy blue high heel shoes," I interrupted her. "Remove them and place them at a 45 degree angle to the edge of the desk on your left," I directed. Conscious of her close proximity to me Polly deftly squirmed slightly sideways tucking her legs up under the edge of the desk so that she could reach down and remove each shoe without having to adopt what I had hoped would be the more ungainly alternative of raising each shoe high enough in front of her for it to be easily slipped off. In fact so carefully did the shoe removal occur that I was unable to see any more of Polly than I could see before she moved, except perhaps for a half inch of slip which slid out from under the hem of Polly's skirt as she moved her knees to the right to bring her legs up under the edge of the desk. "One navy blue woollen blend jacket with matching skirt," continued the listing without any prompting at all from me. "Remove the jacket and place it over the back of the chair on the other side of my desk," I commanded, choosing a resting place for the jacket that I knew would require Polly to lean back and half turn around as my desk is fairly wide. This time I was rewarded with a more extensive glimpse under Polly's skirt as she focussed her attention on arranging the jacket over the chair behind her on the other side of the desk. She was unable to prevent her thighs parting slightly as she turned around and lifted her knees over the edge of the desk to improve her reach to the chair. I was also able to gaze more intently in front of me while her head was turned away. Still, even this improvement in my state of knowledge did not go beyond noting that the stockings were pantyhose under which appeared to be some light pastel coloured panties. (The centre crotch seam on pantyhose always seems to obscure useful opportunities to catch glimpses of girls' underwear. Quite an annoying invention from us voyeurs' point of view!) Polly returned quickly to her more composed position and was sitting upright in front of me attentively awaiting further commands. Unlike before, she did not resume the listing and looked at me expectantly. "What do you want me to do with my skirt?" she asked, as if it was the obvious next step in a pattern that she thought she had discerned in the way I was operating. "Leave it for the time being," I replied, preferring to deal with items that could be removed without her having to move from her position in front of me. "Please continue with your listing, Polly," I directed. "One pair of skin coloured tights" came next. "Are you sure you're listing items in the order in which they would normally be removed?" I checked. "Yes," she confirmed, "I generally relax at home after work in blouse, slip and underwear. I take off my suit to stop it getting crushed and I've never liked pantyhose anyway although it's very convenient." "Well then, we'll have to make you as comfortable as if you were home, won't we?", I asked. "Slip off your pantyhose but be careful not to snag it on the edge of my desk." Easing herself off the desk Polly stood up in front of me only a matter of inches away and quickly lifted her skirt and slip just high enough at the sides to give her hands access to the waistband of her pantyhose. Awkwardly bending her knees she lowered them to the floor. (Bending over from the waist to lower her pantyhose virtually would have positioned her face in my lap and she did not appear keen to achieve that result.) Within a matter of seconds she had managed to step out of the pantyhose and re-seat herself on the desk in front of me. The bulk of the colouring that I had attributed to the pantyhose was obviously due to a healthy natural tan. She really had gorgeous legs. "You can't just leave your pantyhose sitting in a small pile on the floor like that, Polly," I chided. "Please pick them up and place them in the left hand pocket of your jacket. You should take off your skirt too now please." Again she surprised me somewhat by dropping to the floor and quickly walking around my desk to place the pantyhose in the jacket pocket as I had directed. Without awaiting any specific direction she slipped off her skirt and carefully folded it over the jacket already on the back of the chair. "Stay where you are," I said sharply, causing her to look at me a bit puzzled. "I want you to move the chair back a little and lie face down on my desk with your shoulders level with my side of the desk." "What about the listing?" she inquired in a voice now affected by a quiver of apprehension. "We'll continue that later," I said. "For the time being do as you're told and make it snappy." Polly duly positioned herself face down across my desk with her head unsupported about a foot in front of where I remained sitting. Due to the width of my desk her legs were supported by the desk to a point about half way down the calves and she seemed perfectly comfortable. "You must remain absolutely still and silent," I commanded as I stood and positioned myself so that her now drooping head was between my legs and before me lay this well-proportioned young girl in white blouse and white slip awaiting my next move. I leaned forward and grasped the hem of Polly's slip, slowly drawing it toward me so as to reveal increasing amounts of bare leg and thigh. I stopped just at the point where the crease at the base of each buttock joins the upper thigh, and before Polly's panties came into view. I noticed that her hands, that were lying down either side of her body, moved into a clenched position. "Just relax please, Polly. I don't want you to tense any muscles unless I ask you to do that - is that clear?" A slightly muffled "Yes" from between my legs satisfied me, concurrently with a visible relaxation in Polly's fingers. I made a mental note of the static electricity that had made the slip cling to Pollies panties as I raised it. I placed my hands on Polly's slip over each buttock and started to feel out the edges of her panties that at this stage were still obscured by the slip. I was very gentle, and Polly obediently remained quiet and still. I then slipped my hands palms outwards between her upper thighs and gently parted her legs so that they formed about a 45 degree angle. I sensed a shiver run through Polly's body as I did this, but she knew better than to resist. I undid my zipper to allow my penis to extend beyond the confines of my trousers and the glistening glob at its tip confirmed the arousal that I was experiencing. A drip dropped gently onto the nape of Polly's neck, but she did not appear to notice. I smiled to myself relishing the dominant position I was in and trying to keep the presence of mind to methodically think through what I wanted to do next. Picking up the hairbrush that had come from Polly's handbag I ever so gently used its bristles to tickle her inside upper legs at the points just below where the hem of the slip now lay draped. A soft "Oooh" from Polly and a slight wiggle showed that her tactile sensors were alive and well. Turning over the hairbrush I grasped it by the handle and applied a short sharp and stinging blow to the soft flesh of Polly's inside left thigh. Her fingers clenched and her body tensed in anticipation of a repeat, but I was surprised that she otherwise remained silent. Being right handed a repeat performance on the right thigh wasn't as easy for me but the effect was no different at all. Polly's breathing became audible and its pace had plainly increased. Still surprised by her silence I quickly raised the hem of her slip to her waist, revealing for the first time a pair of light blue nylon panties with white edging around the legs. They complemented the nicely tanned skin very well. Tensing of her muscles had caused a crease to form down the centre line between Polly's buttocks and I repeated my earlier suggestion that she relax. Not noticing any compliance with that suggestion I ran my index fingers around each leg of her panties from the outside to the inside, and then drew the gathered material toward me forcing it into the gap between the buttocks like a G-string, and making her arse cheeks appear before me as taut but quivering jellies. "Oh my God; I don't believe this is happening," was the first comment from my otherwise compliant subject. "It is happening Polly and you had better stay quiet or the severity of your punishment will be increased," I shot back gruffly. Without waiting for a response the back of the hairbrush found its mark at top dead centre of each buttock in a series of four quick whacks, two on each side. Although I had intended them to sting I was a little taken aback with the sobbing and shaking that my actions triggered. "I've hardly begun, Polly," I said. "You had better lie still and quiet if you know what's good for you. It's plain to me that you have not had a spanking for far too long and your time has come." "Please don't mark me," Polly whimpered, revealing a perspective that I had not really considered. So far there was no evidence that the blows from the hairbrush had had any effect other than a slight reddening of the areas struck. These I thought were equally consistent with an excited rush of blood to the area and did not qualify as'marks'. "The consequences of your punishment are not my concern, Polly," I replied. "You will receive such punishment as I think appropriate. If evidence of that remains afterwards it will be for me to admire and for you to accept with humility, is that clear?" During the silence that followed I picked up the appliance cord that was the second item retained from Polly's handbag. At the end that had frayed were visible wires and a plug that was barely holding on. I took it between my hands and ripped the plug from the flex leaving 2 strands of insulated wire which disappeared into a further sheath of plastic insulation that formed the outer surface of the cord. Raising it high I brought it down swiftly against Polly's inside left thigh. For balance it seemed appropriate to repeat the exercise on the other side. Sharp cries from the head between my legs indicated that this time some pain had been experienced. Within seconds the flesh that I'd struck changed colour to reveal a distinct mark corresponding to the width of the flex and the length that had made contact. By now Polly had started to cry properly in substitution for the soft sobbing that had previously accompanied the hairbrush. Since she was in no state to carry on a conversation I applied a dozen more strokes in quick succession to Polly's buttocks and inner thighs with my newly acquired whip. (I wonder why people don't use electrical flex more often - it seems to me to be better than leather as it stings more). I then covered the exposed buttocks with her slip and sat back on my chair to contemplate the situation. As I reversed over her drooping head the oozing from my penis was nicely brushed off by her fair hair. As I sat down the light caught the globules of semen on her hair and I found it quaintly amusing that she was oblivious to the spectacle. Polly was still crying quite hard but gradually raised her head so that she was looking at me through red and tearful eyes that were certainly not the lovely shade of blue they had been when I previously saw them. Slowly she focussed her attention on my now placid penis dangling idly from the fly of my trousers. She made no comment but was clearly thinking of what I had been doing behind her back so to speak. It took a few minutes for the crying to subside enough for me to address the nicely disciplined young lady draped across my office desk. "Polly," I said, "that was your punishment for the careless work you did for me today. As this appears to be the first time that you have been punished we will call it quits for the day. However, I want to see you in my office punctually at 7.30am tomorrow morning. That will be when you will learn more of the curriculum in my obedience training course. Now I want you to stand up on my desk and face in the opposite direction for me." Polly gathered herself together and did as I instructed, with a somewhat dishevelled length of hair covering the back of her blouse and the hem of her slip about 6 inches above my line of sight. "Place your feet about a foot apart please Polly," I commanded, speaking with an authority that seemed like it had existed for ages rather than acquired in the space of about half an hour. Her due compliance without comment or resistance pleased me. She did not appear to be as impudent or insolent as she was earlier in the day, and I felt that the punishment had been firm but fair. I stood up placing my head under Polly's slip and gently ran my fingers up her inner thighs, detecting ever so slight welts that must have formed after the strokes of the electrical flex had been directed there. I also gently withdrew the still tightly drawn panties from the gap between her buttocks and restored them to a normal position. "I am pleased with you, Polly," I said as I withdrew from under the slip. "In the circumstances you have accepted your first spanking rather well. Please turn around and, grasping the hem of your slip with each hand, raise it high enough to hide your face." Again I was rewarded with unfaltering compliance and took a fairly leisurely opportunity to now inspect Polly's panties at close quarters from the front. A small damp patch toward the front of Polly's panties left me wondering whether it was excitement juices or whether she had briefly wet herself from fear. "You know, Polly, that static electricity is bad for the computer equipment in the office, and static electricity is associated with synthetic underwear like you are wearing. I don't want you to wear nylon any more, is that understood?" "I have some cotton panties and silk slips if they would be acceptable," offered Polly, reverting to her demure voice. "I will need to inspect any underwear and approve it in advance from now on, Polly. Please bring with you tomorrow morning when you come to see me enough of the underwear that you propose to wear for the rest of the week to enable me to select items that I regard as suitable. That will be all for today. You may step down and get dressed. Use the mirror in my coat closet to adjust your hair and makeup before you leave my office. It goes without saying that your punishment this afternoon and future obedience training sessions are to be kept absolutely confidential. The slightest transgression will result in immediate dismissal without notice - is that clear?" A simple "Yes" as Polly began to replace her skirt and jacket was all that I was interested in. She chose to leave the crumpled pantyhose in her jacket pocket rather than put them on again. I imagined that she preferred the cool night air to circulate around her still warm thighs on her way home.

I had seen Adrian many times before. It wasn’t like you could miss her. We lived in the same apartment complex and her husband was stationed at the same base with me, even though we weren’t in the same unit. She had a little girl about three years old and the two of them were frequent visitors to both the apartment pool and the beach across the street. Even though she didn’t flaunt it and actually appeared very shy, every swimsuit she wore accented her beauty. She had marvelous breast that seemed to always spill out of the top of her suit, a small waist and really nice legs. One of the things that I noticed was the complete absence of stretch marks or any other blemish. Her complexion was perfect from her hair to her toes. Her husband was a pretty good size guy and nice enough person, but was overweight, always sloppy in appearance and tended to spend a lot more time with hobbies than with her. She was left at home alone an awful lot. I wondered about the match and later learned that they were the product of a high school romance. You’ve seen it before as I have, where real young people get married and one of them just seem to blossom well past the other in either looks or achievements, or both. In this case, he had turned to mediocrity and she had turned to beauty. All the guys were just like me, ogling her and discussing her in private but keeping our hard-on to ourselves in order not to offend him. After all, it was a small close-knit community. At the time I was in my mid twenties and single, reasonably good-looking, had spending money and a slew of meaningless but attractive girl friends. Adrian and I were on very friendly terms, but I assumed that was true with the other guys, too, even though they were all married. She had seen me with a number of the women I brought around and remarked a few times in a friendly way about how I seemed to “get around.” I thought that she seemed to find either me or my life style interesting, but I was at a quandary about whether to keep my feelings for her secret or sort of “leak it out” to her accidentally. Even though I had found many, many married women attractive in my life and the desire to screw a married woman was strong, I wisely kept my life separated from them. Of all the places, the event that pushed me over the top happened in a Sears’s parking lot. I had seen her in the store with her daughter, but she had not noticed me and we had not spoken to each other. When I was leaving I noticed that she was checking out and had some rather large packages. She was wearing a seasonal lightweight dress that came mid thigh. Even the simple attire would easily get your attention. I went out and got in my car, hesitating a few minutes while I inspected some stuff I had bought. Just as I was ready to start my car I looked up and saw her coming out of the store, her arms totally committed to the child and her packages. I realized her car was parked across the lane from mine. I had backed in so I was able to see both the lane and her car very well. Just as I started to get out to offer assistance, her skirt got caught up in the ever-present wind and blew up high enough for me to get a quick look at some white bikini panties. With her hands full, she was at the mercy of the breeze so I stayed put to see if there was going to be anything else of interest. I got lucky. She never saw me as she approached her car and put her package on the ground to fumble for her keys. Evidently the child seat was strapped in the middle of the back seat because she had to lean way in with her knees on the edge of the car seat and struggle to get the little girl in. While she was doing it, the wind whipped her skirt up over her ass where it caught for a short while, I’m sure without her knowledge. I was treated to a very extensive look at her practically naked from the waist down. I was breathless as I watched; seeing her like that was so exhilarating different from seeing her in a two-piece swimsuit. It was a picture I couldn’t remove from my mind. Even though I dated several girls during the next few weeks, it all paled in comparison to the mental affair I was having with Adrian. My thoughts of her consumed me all waking hours. I still saw her and her family on a daily basis, including times when she was wearing a pretty skimpy suit at the pool and on the beach. Then it just happened. I didn’t plan it and after the incident I instantly regretted it. She worked at a local bank and came home about the same hour every day. I had seen her come and go to work many times in the past, sometimes with her daughter but not always. This particular Tuesday she was alone. She happened to be coming up the steps to their third floor apartment when I was coming down. As usual she was wearing a very lightweight short dress, which seemed to be her favorite style. As she walked past me, I looked back up, knowing I would get a good look under her dress. The location of the stairs was rather isolated and I was in no real danger of being noticed. Instead, after we exchanged hellos she just happened to turn around and face me just as we passed, I’m sure innocently. I let her go the next two steps up before I spoke. Without warning or thought, I just blurted it out. “Just a minute, Adrian. I want to tell you something.” She stopped, smiled, and looked at me. Then it just started bubbling out of me like a spring. I told her how attractive I thought she was and that I personally thought she was the prettiest woman in town. Luckily, I kept it light and as impersonal as possible, but I could tell it wasn’t lost on her. She was very obviously enjoying the compliments. (I suspect they were few and far between at home) She laughed very honestly and often, but out of pleasure and not ridicule. “Thank you. I appreciate it. It really makes my day.” Then she took that million-dollar smile and walked on up the steps, not attempting to hide the wonderful view she knew I had to be getting of those legs as she went up. I went back up and sat down on my bed for a few minutes. “What a fool!! Why in the world did you do that, idiot? Now she’ll have to avoid you at the least and, at the worse, you’ll have to move to ease the situation.” I didn’t move for a while as the horrors went through my mind. Then, my world took a turn that took years to redirect. My phone rang. “Hello.” “You’re so crazy. I can’t believe you told me those things.” Adrian’s voice came through after a brief hesitation in a soft trembling whisper. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so bold. It’s just that I’ve felt this way for some time.” “Oh, no! It’s okay. I just can’t believe that you feel that way about me.” I got an instant erection. I knew that she was married and that it was a way of life that I knew little of. But what I did know about was the mating rituals of adults and could easily pick up signs from women. Adrian’s voice and the words she had just said came across like candy to me. She was not only showing interest in me, but had crossed over a line she should not have and had done it in minutes, not days or weeks. That told me she indeed had some interest in me. “Adrian, you are absolutely one hundred per cent fucked!!” I didn’t say it, but I was thinking it. I knew this game well, and if she was calling me it was the same as dropping her panties. Instead, I spoke honestly. “Oh, I’ve been an Adrian fan for a long time, but I’m sure that I’m one of many and you hear this every day.” The conversation went on from there for over an hour. She loosened up eventually and we learned some things about each other such as the little girl was adopted, which accounted for the total lack of stretch marks and the really nice body. She told me about her marriage and I told her as much as I wanted to about my private life. I didn’t want to spook her. All of a sudden she said she had to go and just hung up. To say I had a real bad case of jitters that night would be an understatement. I would start physically shaking, either out of excitement about her or the peril that I was undertaking. The range of emotions ranged to having a hard-on just thinking about her to complete remorse for the evolvement. What was to become of this, anyway? I found out much faster than I would have ever imagined. I worked rotating shift work and was off for the day so I made no attempt to set my alarm. About seven in the morning I woke to a tapping on my door. I got up and looked out my bedroom window, which was adjacent to my front door. There she stood, totally dressed and looking around nervously. I quickly reacted, throwing on a pair of shorts, running my fingers through my hair, opening the door while all the time thinking what a mess I must look. “This is a real surprise.” I could hardly get it out my heart was beating so. “I know. This is crazy. I just wanted to see you a second. I’ve thought about you all night.” “Where is he?” The fact that she had a husband wasn’t lost on me. “At home asleep. He doesn’t work today and neither of them will wake up for hours. I moved my car so he will think I’ve already gone to work.” Even though the whole thing scared the crap out of me, it was less than thirty seconds before we kissed. After that, I guess we were both like a bull in a china shop, thinking only about the present situation rather than the danger. Knowing time was limited if not non-existent, any notions of romance or foreplay flew out the door. I was shocked when she allowed me to just turn her around and unzip her dress, leaving her standing there in a skimpy white bra and light blue panties. Both came off in a flash as we fell in to my bed. It was up to me to decide the direction we would go in such a short time. As it was, my fantasies about her had always been about going down on her, so that’s what I did. We kissed and I spent some time with those wonderful breasts, but my real target was getting my mouth between her legs. In no time she was moaning slightly and moving with me. Everything was going perfect until her moans turned to crying. Thinking I had really blown it, I stopped what I was doing and moved back up to just take her in my arms. I let her cry, not knowing what to do. But while I was doing it I redirected my attention to her breast, taking her nipples in my mouth. After a very short while, it was obvious that she was caught between guilt and pleasure. I didn’t know if I would ever have a second chance at her, so I made a move that had always seemed to be very non-threatening with the other women in my life. Keeping her on her back, I turned on my side, lifted her leg up over mine, and barely, barely let the head of my cock enter her. It was the perfect move to make. I waited until she responded to it and then slowly entered her and kept the strokes slow and gentle until she started moving with me as if it was she and not I making the motions. All crying stopped and was replaced with rapid breathing and low moaning. She came within minutes with a loud cry that could have been easily heard on the walkway just outside my window. As exciting and erotic as it was, all at once she was gone, dressed and out the door as sudden as she had entered. I spent the day wondering what I had done, would I ever see her again, and just exactly how deep in shit I really was. This woman, no matter how she had totally captivated me, was married. In short, she called me as soon as she got home that night and at every chance she got after that. It’s not like we were together other every day or even every week for that matter, but each chance we were alone we were instantly at each other in what couldn’t be described any other way but explosive. I have always been real slow to come to an orgasm, which gave me a real advantage with women and she was no different. Bringing her to an orgasm two or three times during these chance meetings was commonplace, and she absolutely loved having her pussy eaten. The amount of times she came was limited only by the amount of time we had together. Even though it was great and I was more taken in with her than any woman I had been with, it never left my mind about the danger. That might have even added to it. I won’t try to give you a blow by blow of what happened during the next nine months that this went on, but will instead give you a little series of short stories that covers those events of interest. CAUGHT!! O-o-o-h-h, yes. He might have been unkempt and inattentive, but he wasn’t stupid or blind. We were into it for less than two months when he pretty well forced the admission out of her. He walked into my apartment without knocking and walked around turning the lights on and off in a nervous gesture as he spoke. I didn’t try to hide or deny anything, letting him vent himself, especially since he was the one wronged, not me. Needless to say, it pretty well stopped the exchange of Christmas cards between the two of us. Since he was being reassigned within a month, he just went ahead and moved her out of there to Orlando, only a few hours away. She would be staying there near her family while he took a one year unaccompanied tour without her. So, she was gone in a flash. I assumed it was over and felt the pain deeper than I would have ever imagined. SHE LET HER FINGERS DO THE WALKING About a month passed since I had last seen her. I figured she had come to her head and decided I was a big mistake. Instead, the phone rang one night and when I picked it up she was on the other end. She just wanted to say hello and good-bye, since we never got the chance before. She explained what had happened after they left and it wasn’t real pretty. One of the things he did was leave her pretty well penniless, told her she’d better get a job by the end of the week and forbid her to even so much as to have a telephone. I felt bad for her and empty inside. Then, while she was in a very wonderful way saying good-bye to me, she proceeded to give me her address and the directions to find it. I didn’t miss a beat. Two weeks later I showed up unannounced at her duplex about eight at night. When she opened the door to see me standing there, her mouth fell open. Within fifteen minutes it was if we had never parted. In another hour she was gently milking my cock with her soft wet pussy that had already come. The next night we got into bed with the lights on, as usual. I don’t remember what brought it up, but we somehow got around to talking about her masturbating. “What? Do you want to watch me bring myself off?” She said it with a genuine laugh. “Of course.” I was caught by complete surprise. Of course I knew women did it, but I never thought I would get to be a spectator. Without hesitation, she began. I watched in total awe for over fifteen minutes as she lay on top of the covers and rubbed her clit. Within minutes after starting, she closed her eyes and started moving her body in unison with her hands. Her breathing was as heavy as mine, and she started giving out little moans. From there she built into an absolutely beautiful orgasm, moaning loudly as her hips moved in a large circle. It wasn’t just watching her that was so erotic, but the fact that for the first time in my life I was watching a woman come with nobody touching her. Her reactions to her own touch were just unbelievable. After that, she did it routinely for me. To this day, my biggest turn-on is to watch a woman masturbate. REALITY SETS IN AND THE GAMES BEGIN After the second trip up there, I was driving home and started thinking about my situation. It was difficult, but I admitted to myself that no matter how crazy I was about her and how perfect we seemed to be for each other, she was never, never going to be mine. Even though we were super hot for each other, we were in fact toys that would eventually be taken away. With that in mind, I started thinking. If she was just going to be no more than entertainment, why not make it as much fun as possible. Things started formulating in my mind and I decided to try to put some of them into action. I had little hope for them working out and could lose her as a result, but the loss was inevitable anyway. I already had orders to leave within months. I always brought her nice gifts when I visited; some of it sexy and others useful, everyday wear. The next time I went up I gave her a really nice tee shirt that was very thin and would fit her like a second skin. I also gave her a super short denim skirt to go with it. I had been around her long enough to know that even though she was very shy, she was extremely aware of the effect her breast and legs had on men to the point that she was vain about it. On my previous trip we had walked into a restaurant one night and a woman had walked out as we came in. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her headlights were very much on high beams, nipples protruding out like grapes. Adrian had turned to me and quietly said, “See? That’s why I always wear a bra.” “Oh? Most men, including me, think that’s a big turn-on.” I was just being honest. “Really? I guess I just don’t get it?” She shrugged. Anyway, the first night I was back there we had to go to a local mall. When she walked out of her bedroom for us to leave, she had changed into the shirt. She looked at me a second as if to say, “Is this what you like?” Much to my shock, she was not wearing a stitch under the thin cloth. Her breasts stood out proud and her nipples looked as if they were frozen. “You look great,” I said, and I meant it. She looked sexy as hell and there was no doubt about the attention she would get. I was right. Every male head and many of the females turned and looked as she walked by. She was wearing a pair of loose fitting jeans with the shirt. If she had worn that short skirt it would have really caused a stir. There was no jealously within me at all. Rather, it was exciting and resulted in an erection that I hoped wasn’t evident. I wondered how she felt about it. Her face had turned red and stayed that way while were in there. Normally quite talkative, we both became quiet; she was obvious of the attention she was receiving from the men. When we got in the car, I asked how she liked it. She said, “It wasn’t such a big deal.” “Did you find it exciting?” “Not particularly.” She wasn’t very convincing. Once we were back home, I slipped my hand between her legs and she was very wet and came as soon as I started rubbing her. She might have been uncomfortable with the scene, but it certainly had turned her on. We had tremendous sex that night and I decided to really press my luck the next day and go a little further with the game. The next night we had planned on going to a very casual but popular bar-b-cue place. I asked her to wear the little short denim dress I had given her. I think we both understood that there were only going to be a few more times that I got to see her wear anything, so she complied without any protest. When she walked in the room I whistled at her. It was even shorter on her than I had imagined. I was accustomed to seeing her in short dresses, but this was really short. She sat down on the couch a minute and you could almost see up to her ass. I didn’t mention it to her. Somehow it was very revealing without being the least bit obscene. While we were driving over there, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her exposed legs. This was going to be interesting. I started kidding her about taking her panties off, but that was met with a resounding “NO!” I kept at it the whole way there, but to no avail. I gave it up, not wanting to press my luck. When we got there the parking lot indicated a full house and it was. Since it was a “seat yourself” situation, I was able to look around for the spot I was looking for. I carefully selected a table that had two chairs on one side and a booth seat on the other that faced out to the rest of the seating. I sat down and had her sit beside me in a spot where I knew she would be exposed to a few younger men who were sitting nearby with a large group. I really didn’t expect much, but I could at least live a little bit of the fantasy I had about her. I knew they would have a spectacular view. After we ordered, she excused herself to go to the bathroom. When she got back, she said, “I have a gift for you.” She glanced down at her open purse between us and I almost passed out. Laying on top of her other stuff was her panties! She laughed at my expression. “Well, you asked.” Considering her modesty, this was a real surprise and caused an instant erection. I knew that the least opening of her legs would give those guys a direct shot of her pussy. As good as it was the meal became secondary. The men across the way had noticed her as soon as we came in and had starting to quietly nudge each other to draw each other’s attention to Adrian without alerting the women around them. I was having as much difficulty trying to avoid too much direct eye contact with them as they were trying to keep from just staring at Adrian. She definitely had their attention and I didn’t want to discourage that. “Those guys are almost staring at me.” It was a quiet statement of fact that she muttered under her breath. Her legs were pressed together, but there was still a lot to be seen. “I know. Do you like it?” There was no answer. That in its self was a small victory. She hadn’t said no. “Do you find their attention exciting?” I pressed it since she had not answered. “A little.” It took a few seconds before she apparently wrestled with the question and then answered. “Me, too.” “You like for other men to look at me?” “Of course. You’re beautiful.” Surprisingly, that answer seemed to please her. I decided to move forward, all the time keeping steady glances at our guests at the next tables. “Move your left knee over to touch mine.” In order to do so, she would have to spread her legs about six inches. As short as the skirt was, that would be more than enough to allow a great look at her crotch. “No. They’ll be able to look all the way up my dress.” She continued to eat slowly. We were having no conversation except for this. “I want them to see you a little. Come on. Do this for me.” I knew she wouldn’t. “You know, this is what I get for letting you spoil me.” With that, and much to my astonishment, her left knee moved over to touch mine. I don’t know who caught their breath the hardest; me, her or them. I became even harder, I felt her give a little shudder and their eyes opened wide. I wanted to ask her to spread even wider, but decided she was being more than willing and I didn’t want to turn this from erotic to obscene for her. Her face was flushed and both of us had difficulty finishing our meal. It could be my imagination, but I think she was starting to wiggle her ass on the booth seat as if she were trying to rub her clit on it. When we did finish eating I insisted we stay until they left, not willing to give up the moment. I think those guys were thinking the same thing because they didn’t move after their table was cleared. Finally, they got up and left. So as not to come into direct contact with them, I waited a few minutes before we got up, giving them time to clear out. She must have known what I was doing because she said, “Thanks for waiting,” when we got up. As soon as we got in the car, I reached over and opened her legs. When she had gone braless the night before, she was very wet when we got home. After tonight’s event, she was absolutely slush! If I had any doubts about her real reactions to exposing herself, they were quickly expelled. Given the chance, she was obviously a real exhibitionist. In the following months it became a regular game we played. I rubbed her gently for a few minutes, bringing her even higher, then removed my hand and just sat there. After a minute or so, she knew what I wanted. She leaned back against the car door, opened her legs so I could see her well with the light from the parking lot, and commenced to masturbate. It took no time for the moment to come, and it did with an explosion. I couldn’t believe how loud she became, glancing around to see if we had any nearby company. We didn’t, and I let her wail. It was the first time a woman ever masturbated in my car and I made a mental note that it was not going to be the last. It was really an experience! TITS AND ASS Without trying to give a blow by blow of our sex life after that, I will pass on two things that happened. We were in my hotel room one night and she was one top of me, straddling me while she was sitting straight up and riding my cock. She had already come a couple of times that evening and this was a real slow fuck that was giving me a chance to really admire her as she sat on me. She started massaging her breasts, starting very slowly at first then becoming more aggressive. Within five minutes she was pulling on her own nipples so hard that I almost cringed with the thought of the pain she must be feeling. Evidently she didn’t share those thoughts with me as she started bouncing on me and had an explosive orgasm. It was at that point that I fully realized how much a part of a woman’s sex drive is centered on her breasts. I never forgot it. Not long after that, one night as she was starting to enter an orgasm, I was gently rubbing her ass, enjoying the huge amount of moisture running from her pussy down between her cheeks. I had done it many times before, but for some reason that night I gently slipped just a digit or two of my finger up her ass. She reacted immediately with a nice, low moan so I kept it there until she was completely through coming. After that it became the norm rather than the exception and she was very open to it even though we never discussed it. One night she was straddling me, just sliding up and down the length of my cock rather than it being inside her. She was very wet and when I knew she was ready for me, instead of entering her pussy I slid the head up and down her pussy a few times to lubricate it real well, then pressed it gently against her ass. Never pressing the issue or trying to force it, I just moved it slightly up and down across her anus. She caught her breath and after a minute or so started making those little moans I was so familiar with. I moved my hand and just let her take control to see what she would do. To my surprise, she moved her hand down between us and gently pressed it against her ass. Then, very slowly, she started moving down on it. With little mewing sounds coming out of her, I bet it took five minutes but she slowly but surely took me in her, always with her doing everything and me just lying there in silent awe. I had always heard stories about some women enjoying taking it up the ass but I had never been part of it. Before this happened, I had always thought it was a myth. I’m not saying we did it every day after that, but it became an important part of our sex life. THE LAST, FAST GOOD-BYE I had a tendency to arrive on my visits with her on Thursday nights. When I was very close to the time that I had to leave for an assignment in the Pacific I had some extra time from work and arrived on a Wednesday. It was already dark when I checked into my hotel and drove to her house. To my surprise there was a strange car in her drive. I assumed it was a family member visiting and left to go eat. Returning to her house, I found the car still there. Making a decision to check things out before giving it up and just going back to the hotel, I parked down the street and walked back to her house. She had a carport with an entry that went directly into her living room. The door had a small window that I could see through. When I looked in, I was shocked to see her husband sitting there!! They were involved in a very unhappy conversation, evidently, and it didn’t take very long for me to figure out that it concerned the two of us. He either strongly suspected or absolutely knew that I had come back into Adrian’s life. He would rant and rave and then go quiet. She cried softly at times and wrung her hands. She was obviously in some level of fear and I felt sorry for her, but I didn’t feel she was in any danger. After an hour or so they turned off the lights and moved to the bedroom. She lived in a duplex with a wooden fence around her back yard, so I quietly moved around to see if I could see anything. Looking back, I can’t believe I was so careless but at the time my heart was sad and beating hard. Of course, I had no idea how long he had been there; hours or days. I knew her windows were very poorly covered and would provide me a view. Sure enough, I watched them undress and prepare for bed. He was back in a belligerent mood and started talking to her about having sex with me. Having being caught in our relationship again, she was being very accommodating to him; I’m sure in order to appease him. I also didn’t know if they had already had sex since his return and if so, how much. I watched as he had her stand up and strip naked. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he motioned her over and pulled her head down to his lap. On his instructions, she slowly started giving him a blowjob. Even though I don’t particularly enjoy receiving oral sex and the conditions were unsettling, I was very surprised at how erotic it was to watch them. She worked hard to please him and by the look on his face she was doing a great job. Then, out of nowhere and with no warning, he pulled her up and had her get on the edge of the bed on her hands and knees. This put her ass on a level with his cock. Abruptly and with no lubrication, he apparently shoved his cock up her ass. She cried out loudly and tried moving forward to escape the sudden intrusion, but he used his hands to hold her in place as her slid himself into her. She was crying and begging him to stop but he continued. It lasted just a few minutes before he came in her. I guess the punishment he was giving her provided him more pleasure than he could take. As soon as he finished, I saw him grab a cigarette and knew he might step out where I was. Ashamed of my reaction to all of this, I left with a heavy, hurting heart and a massive hard on. I knew she was going to be worried about me showing up the next night, not knowing the situation, so I left a real small note on her windshield knowing she would be the first one up and out in the morning to go to work. All it said was “HI208.” I knew she would recognize my writing and know that I was in room 208 at the Holiday Inn just down the street from where she worked where I normally stayed. Sure enough, after a sleepless night there was a tap on my door at 7:30 in the morning. I wasn’t surprised to see her when I opened the door. Crying, she fell into my arms. Not talking at all, I just held her and let her cry. Finally, she quieted down and we spoke. “It’s over, isn’t it?” My voice was quiet and shaking, I’m sure. “Yes. We have to stop it.” I knew she was right. We spoke and held hands for a while. I knew that I wasn’t going to let her out of there without a good-bye fuck but didn’t want to force it. I wanted it to be her idea. I also noticed that she was sitting very gingerly on the very edge of the bed, which I thought was strange. When I finally made a move on her, she recoiled as if in pain. “I want to see you one more time. Stand up.” She protested, but I decided to press it and insisted. She stood up slowly and started crying again. When I unzipped her short dress and removed her panties I saw the reason why. I was furious. Her ass was covered with ugly red welts where he had used a belt on her after I had left. I exploded in anger, but she told me it was her fault and she should have been punished and that it wasn’t as bad as it looked. He had been careful not to leave marks that you could have seen on her legs. I know this seems abrupt, but this is what happened. She called in to work to report that she had car problems and would be an hour late. Very carefully, we had very slow, very tender and very wonderful sex. She got up, got dressed, we kissed each other deeply and she walked out the door. I never saw or hear from her again. I guess that it would all have been a very neat little episode of my life except that I had fallen in love with her. It took me a long time to get over her and even then it has never really gone away. After several years I finally married a really nice, pretty lady. Just happens she loves to masturbate for me, especially when we are on a trip in the car, loves taking it up the ass to the point she request it at times, and never hesitates to flash when we’re out in public. Go figure!! This is a true story. It started in June of 1995 and ended in March 1996. Now, let me first go ahead and acknowledge what I did was wrong. I don’t need any comments to remind me of that. What I WOULD like to know is if you, either male or female, have ever had an experience with a married person and did it turn out any different than mine. Send me your comments. I’d really like to hear your story.

_Beat Inspired Dirty Story (mf)_ By: AnonymousNin 1 I am an ugly guy. Rather, I am an ugly guy, but I have a thing. Every guy needs a thing. My thing is that I have long blonde hair. My hair does a good job of hiding how ugly I really am. I have naturally blonde hair so people look over and say: "hey, look at that guy with long blonde hair." 2 I'm really not good with girls either. I don't try enough. Not trying seems to work. 3: Stacy, My First Love. Stacy was this Youtuber who no one has ever heard of, and no one ever will. She was good looking, but not good looking enough to be a YouTuber. There are so many jobs now that you can have as long as you are good looking. Life really fucks ugly people. Anyways, Stacy was good looking, and grew up with enough confidence to be a YouTuber. 4 Stacy and I first fucked when she had two hundred subscribers. I remember because we were out at a bar together when she got her two hundredth. The bar was some stinky hole that was nice for a college town, but shit anywhere else in the world. I liked it. The bar was named the Black Cat. Stacy and I had some shit drinks, in some shit bar, but we were too shitty of people to realize it. After a couple of shitty drinks, Stacy pulled me by my hand to the bathroom. Stacy and I kissed and touched each other in this gross cesspool. Now that is a first kiss. I think Stacy was so excited about her two hundredth subscriber, she didn't mind making out with an ugly guy-- at least I had long blonde hair. Next thing I know, Stacy slid her hands down my pants, and got on her knees. If only every girl was like Stacy: Our first kiss, and thirty seconds later her mouth found my cock. People knocked on the door to the bathroom as Stacy sucked me. She didn't mind. 5 I think Stacy is famous now. I shit on her for only having two hundred subscribers, but that was four years ago. I think she is hot shit now-- all rich for being sorta good looking. Meanwhile, I'm shitty looking and broke. 6: Character Development I am a shitty writer. Back in college, professors would give me compliments between red ink. It was always something dumb and generic, like: "good sentence." Whatever the fuck that means. So I dropped out of school. Now I just work part time and don't really do a whole lot of much. I have a cheap enough apartment where I don't have to work that often. And I dont really give a fuck about food, just coffee. And coffee is cheap if you don't give a fuck. 7: My Roommate Sam I live with this guy named Samuel. He is a cool enough guy, he also has long hair. He is always high. Samuel really doesn't give a fuck. Samuel is way cooler than me and still a virgin. If only he was more lame, then maybe he would have a girlfriend. Samuel's parents give him money for rent every month, but he always used that money to buy weed and go skiing. He skis four times a week and the apartment always smells dank. I like it. I don't think Samuel has a job. I should know, I live with him. I wonder how he pays his share of rent. 8: Rebecca One night I invited a girl named Rebecca over. Rebecca was an anorexic baker. She just got off to making other girls fat. Rebecca came over and went on and on about how a girl came into the bakery and ordered three cookies, and then the bitch sat down and ate all three of them herself. As Rebecca told me this, she ran her hands up and down my leg. I could feel the sexual heat emanating from her-- as she fat shamed this poor girl. Rebecca is a crazy bitch with no tits. She turns me on. She has brown hair that barely touches her shoulders. big brown eyes, and always wears all black scary witch shit that no one else wears. She dresses like the devil if he worked in a bakery. Or some sort of alien vampire from the dark side of some unknown planet who can only feed by making other girls fat. Rebecca never wears a bra, I don't think she has ever owned one. Her tits are completely flat. Rebecca compensates for her lack of tittage with nipple piercings that show through every top. No one ever says anything. I guess it's not offensive because her tits are so small. Nipple piercings are a thing that sound good in theory, but lack practicality. I always felt like I had to be super gentle with Rebecca's nipples, as to not tear her piercings out. Maybe that's why she broke up with me, she wanted her nipples squeezed and I just couldn't. 9 Rebecca broke up with me through another man's cock-- or rather-- a series of cock. I did not mind: I would never ask an eagle to be a pigeon. Rebecca would come over to my apartment with hickies that I didn't give her. I didn't care that she slept with other guys; but Rebecca cared. 10 Normally, anorexic girls don't have that much of a sex drive. Rebecca was the opposite. My cock couldn't handle the scully witch. I am a young man but I feel like an old man: I have no sex drive. I am fine doing it only two or three times a month. Maybe that's why Rebecca broke up with me. I hope Rebecca has found herself some athletic gym rat who could really give it to her. She deserves to get fucked like that. 11: More Shitty Development I wish I was an alcoholic. My life is too shit for me to not be an alcy. My life is so fucked and yet I am straight all the time. It is just plain sad. I don't have the balls. If only I had more self confidence, I could drink more and my shitty life might make sense. Rebecca likes to drink. My little Satanist only drinks shit with no sugar. She makes these mules with sugar free ginger beer that taste like donkey ass. She drinks like three or four mules and then drives over to my apartment to fuck. I never have any alcohol at my place so she brings one with her to keep her buzz. If only I had more gumption in my sex life, Rebecca and I would be a great couple. 12: Kim I figured out that if you get a job working morning shifts at a gym, you can just get paid to sit at a desk and read. That's what I do for work. I show up to the gym, read a hundred and fifty pages, and then go home. Working at a gym isn't bad. There are lots of women at the gym I work at. It is a real upscale gym. Girls come in on their Lululemon outfits with their boyfriend in matching shorts. I met this cute asian woman one morning named Kim. She always wears these super tight Gym Shark pants that show off her pussy. No one says anything to her. Kim is short-- like four eleven short. Maybe it's some unspoken rule that you are short enough, you can show off your pussy and no one say's anything. It turns out Kim is a fitness influencer on Insta, or some shit, and makes what I make slaving at the gym in a week, with one picture. Life's fucked-- Kim asked me out. 13 Four our date, Kim took me to the local high school track to run laps. I had one or two laps in me. Kim crushed it in her tight pants that showed off her pussy. I just sat down, pretended to stretch, and watched that pussy run by. Sweating, Kim and I got into her Subaru. I do not know why, but asian girls always drive Subarus. Kim drove me home and slowly moved her hand from her stick shift to the inside of my knee. As we got closer and closer to my house, Kim's hand moved higher and higher-- until Kim found my sex and awkwardly fondled me through my shorts. We parked and Kim pulled my cock out and began to suck it. I do not have a big cock, but it looks big with short girls. I felt really good. I came from just looking at how big my cock looked compared to tiny Kim. I came and then Kim let me leave. Why is it that girls always think they have to suck your cock, sometimes I would just rather kiss. 14 Kim asked me out again to work out. All she wanted to do was work out and suck me off. Even though I worked.at a gym, I really don't like working out. I like it just because I know I can take.the morning shifts no one wants and read a hundred and fifty pages. I had never even kissed Kim and here she is again, sweaty, post workout, with her lips around my cock. 15 My relationship with Kim sucking my cock fizzled out fast. Then I turned twenty four. 16: Emily When I turned twenty four I decided to mix things up and only hang out with fat chicks. I met this real porky girl on Tinder, Emily, who perpetually dressed herself as an anime character. Emily wore this incestous pink makeup, had short pixie style pink hair, and her bedroom was a pink sex dungeon-- with dildos and vibrators and body pillows and all sorts of demented pink shit. I think Emily made porn on the side too. I was too scared to ask. She probably made more money than me making fat anime chick porn. Emily was fat but she looked like sex, all flesh bursting from every seam. She was the sexiest girl. 17: Nofap The internet is a weird place. There are whole communities of guys on the internet united by their goal to never jack off. I told bodacious Emily that I rarely, if ever, masturbated. She said that guys were supposed to jack off every day and began to sext me dirty pictures every night so that I could jack off and be normal. I googled how much I was supposed to jack off, and I found all these guys on the internet trying to not jack off together. It was a little too gay for me. Maybe Emily was right and I should masturbate more. All Emily likes to do is watch anime and then have sex with the japanese in the background. Why is it that every girl I meet has something they seem to get off to: baking, working out, anime-- sex is strange. Emily molests me when we watch anime. I have to sit on the other end of the couch, and invariably she sprawls out like a beached whale to find my cock. 18 In between watching anime and fucking Emily, I never have time to jerk off. It is sad. It is the cool guys and beautiful girls who never get laid: no one has the balls-- while the rest of us ugly fucks are off to the races. Especially if you are not picky. And girls are girls. 19 Emily may be grotesque, but she has the best tasting pussy. She always tastes like some anime fruit that doesn't really exist-- light, cherry, floral-- like Red Bull or some shit. Most of the time beautiful girls have rotten pussies. You have to be very conscious of your looks for your pussy to taste great. 20: Nurse Jennifer When I was twenty I snuck into a bar with my father. Dad left me to go talk to some girl and this older lady sat down next to me. Her name was Jennifer. She was a nurse who had just broken up with her boyfriend. Nurse Jennifer was twenty nine. When I told her I was twenty she just laughed. Before I knew it, Jennifer and I were upstairs making out. 21 Like I've said, I'm not good looking. I think I am just approachable-- I'm just barely good looking enough to want to talk to, but not so good looking as to be unapproachable or nerve inducing. Jennifer and I called an Uber to her friend's apartment where she was sleeping on the couch. Jennifer and I kissed all the way to her friend's apartment. When it came time to perform I could not get it up. So much for being twenty. 22 Nurse Jennifer taught me how to eat pussy. She showed me her clit and told me to just lick and suck at it-- focus on the clit. "Don't eat pussy, suck clit," Nurse Jennifer commanded. 23 I gave Jennifer all of my spit and sucked for as long as she wanted. She seemed to enjoy it. I really put my face in there. She orgasmed, or at least she put on a good show. Jennifer was really commanding; she really took charge of the situation-- she must be a good nurse. 24 The next morning, I woke up with a sore nose and face from eating pussy. Jennifer woke up and had me suck her clit before she went to work. I went back to my Dad's apartment smelling like old nurse pussy. Dad didn't say anything. 25: Technology One night my roommate Samuel showed me hentai on his VR headset. "This is going to revolutionize the world" he said to me, as I watched a cartoon purple haired girl get dicked down by a giant green tentacle monster. I watched this monster rape out of politeness, while Samuel give me this long pitch on how this is why I need to buy a VR headset. I ordered a headset that night. 26 Samuel may be perpetually stoned, but his sense of wonder and amazement of the world accidentally makes him the best salesman. Too bad Sam is too high to believe in money, he could be quite successful. 27 Later that week my anorexic devil fuckbuddy called me, drunk, and told me she was coming over. I cleaned the apartment, threw the entire kitchen into the sink-- not that Rebecca cared-- and lit a candle. Rebecca arrived wearing nothing but black panties and a black Pantera t-shirt that showed off her pierced nipples. She wasn't even wearing shoes. Rebecca and I laid down on my bed. Rebecca pulled down her panties and began to ramble on about some bitch who came into the bakery that morning and ate cannolis for two all by herself. I pushed off fucking to show show Rebecca my newly purchased VR hentai set up. Rebecca was quite impressed. I showed her a couple of hentai videos while she touched herself. After I showed her all the videos I had downloaded, we got to doing the deed. 28 As my Devil's appendage entered Rebecca's wretched snare, Samuel-- on the other side of the wall-- began to play Dark Side out of his giant speakers. It seemed unethical to ask a stoner to turn Floyd down, and my penis just got inside. I accepted my fate: Rebecca and I are going to fuck to Speak to Me/ Breathe. My goal was to not finish until Money. 29 Mid-way, Rebecca pulled me out and grabbed the VR headset. We resumed fucking. I didn't mind fucking a girl with no face. I just pumped away and went to work on her neck. This was the wettest and hottest Rebecca has ever been. She moaned very loudly. Good thing the Dark Side was on. It was interesting, fucking a girl watching VR tentacle hentai with Pink Floyd in the background. I wonder if the Floyd imagened that this is what their album would used as: the soundtrack to a hentai monster fuck session. 30 The oddity of the whole thing kept me going and Rebecca climaxed thrice. If only I was a purple tentacle monster, then Rebecca and I would be perfect for each other. But alas, I cannot compete with that beast cock. I couldn't cum and Rebecca became too sensitive to carry on. Rebecca had me put the headset on. She stroked me as I got fucked virtually by this big hentai beast. She went into the kitchen and came back. She resumed stroking me, her hands now warm and oily. It smelled like coconut. I came. Technology is wonderful. 31: Ski Trip The next weekend Samuel insisted that I go skiing with him. We drove up to Brighton. I insisted on driving, and Samuel did bong rips the whole way up. Just normal skier things. Samuel insisted I do a rip while we were stuck in traffic in the canyon. I thought, 'hey why not, I don't want to be impolite.' Driving in the snow and bong rips don't go well together. Samuel is the bravest man alive. We arrived at Brighton without harm. I was amazed at how high I was after one rip. And it was a shitty rip too. Just the knowledge that Samuel must have ten to twenty times more THC in his system caused my palms to sweat, almost inducing a panic attack. Samuel and I stumbled on the ski lift. I thought about jumping. My mind settled when we got off the chair lift. My skis touched down on the soft snow. Everything became alright, the world became a marshmello before my eyes. Everything was so beautiful. I thought I was going to orgasm as we carved down the mountain. Skiing while high is better than sex. Let's change the state motto to: _Utah: skiing, fucking, and hashish_. 32 Salt Lake City is the most sexed up city in the country. No one works: just look at Park City on any given Tuesday. Utah truly is God's state. Freud would be fascinated with Salt Lake City. Proof positive that the most religious parts of America have the kinkiest citizens. I argue that there are more one night stands per person in Salt Lake City than in any other part of the world. 33 VR hentai really revitalized my sexual relationship with Rebecca. Now she would come over two or three times a week to watch beast hentai and fuck: The Golden Years. Rebecca came like crazy in beast land, and I never came in reality. The fact that Rebecca got off in hentai beast land much more often, and with much more vigor, hurt my feelings. I've said it before and I'll say it again: my cock just can't compete with that beast cock. Ultimately, I didn't mind that Rebecca was using me as a VR fuck doll. I was just glad that she seemed happy. 34: On Sex and Life It was once my sexual encounter number got into the teens that I realized I really didn't give a fuck about sex. I was depressed. For a while sex was interesting enough to push off a good deal of depression and life angst. But at a certain point this went away, and all I was left with was blue balls and a sore cock. I miss being more interested in sex. It seems to be all I write about. Maybe I am a hypocrite. If only I was a good writer. That would really make my life something. Rather I am stuck as a reader who can't write for shit. I never read anything modern. It makes me too jealous. If only I could write, perhaps my life wouldn't be so fucked; my apartment wouldn't be so fucked; my clothes wouldn't be so fucked. At least I have some looks. It's better to be a seven and broke as fuck than to be a three rolling in money. Sex truly is the greatest gift to man. Fuck fire. I am rarely suicidal when horny. I am often suicidal when warm. If there were no sex, all of mankind would simultaneously kill themselves, because what would the point be, then, really.

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age. Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell- Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes. *.*.*.* Christine Gernaud stood in front of the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store in Kimble, Louisiana, fanning her sweating face. The heat was in the high nineties; the humidity was also in the high nineties. Her blonde hair actually looked light brown where it stuck to her scalp; the sweat made the yellow hair look dark. Christine had her mother, Pam Gernaud to thank for her beauty. Just like her mother, Christine was blessed with thick, straight straw colored locks, large blue eyes, a button nose and pouting light pink lips. Her mother had also passed along her large breasts and cute bubble butt and slim waist to Christine. Christine wasn't thanking her mother for any genetic traits; she was cursing her mother for constantly running off with this trucker or that trucker, getting herself pregnant, then returning to Gary Gernaud with promises that she'd reformed. The last time Pam returned, Gary agreed that it would be her last time and put two slugs into Pam's cheating heart before putting the gun into his own mouth and ending his misery. Christine and four of her brothers and sisters were farmed out to the foster care system. Her first night in the Gueydan household, Christine's nightmare really began. She found alcohol to numb the pain and deaden her shame. After all, Mr. Gueydan told Christine it was her own fault. And Mrs. Gueydan claimed that Christine brought it all on herself, always parading around, showing off the goodies. Nina Crowder pulled into the parking lot of the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store. The twenty seven year old woman shut off the powerful engine of her 2017 Dodge Charger and sighed as the last blast of cold air left the vent of the car. Oakleaf, Texas had enjoyed some brutal heat waves, but they rarely had such extreme humidity. "Thank God it's Friday; sit in the air conditioning whole weekend," Nina promised herself as she rested her hand on the door handle. When Tom Thibodaux of Thibodaux Investments had decided to open his own collection agency, he contacted Brad Prescott of Prescott Conglomerate, Inc. and asked Brad to assist. Brad was smart enough to know, he wasn't smart enough to assist Tom, so routed Tom to Ashley Dunn, the manager of the Collections Department. "Mr. Thibodaux, the first thing you're going to need is an experienced agent to manage the department," Ashley had stated. "And, the one person I would recommend, the one person I know would make your department a success is Nina Crowder. She has the experience, the know-how; hell, she helped me to whip this section into shape. And, she's not afraid to hurt people's feelings." "Oh, I don't want..." Tom had said. "You don't want to be intentionally cruel," Ashley had forged on. "But, people's feelings are going to get hurt. Employees, clients, your clients' customers; feelings are going to get hurt. And you don't want a 'buddy' that wants to make everyone happy. You want someone that will separate the wheat from the chaff, get the job done." Nina had just had another relationship crater. She'd had yet another boyfriend dump her after promising a forever love; Bobby had even been talking about marriage and children before deciding to hook up with a leggy blonde bimbo that danced at Tijuana Jack, a gentleman's club in Oakleaf, Texas. So, when Ashley had recommended that Tom interview Nina, Nina had jumped at the opportunity. The face to face interview had gone very well; and the salary had made Nina almost gasp out loud. The only thing Nina had not liked was Tom's insistence that his agents dress professionally. "We're going to be on the phone," Nina had spluttered. "Who cares what we look like?" "I care. We're a professional company. Employees should dress and conduct themselves in a professional manner," Tom said firmly. So, Nina dressed in skirts and blouses or dresses; she hated the way she looked in pants suits. With her red hair cut in a short bob, pants suits tended to make her look somewhat butch. She even put her 28B breasts into a bra; the first day on the job, she'd not worn a bra. Tom had quietly called Nina into his office and pointed out that he could very clearly see her nipples through her silk blouse. Her first six months in DeGarde, Louisiana, Nina had rented an apartment in Venice Apartments. After her ninety day probation period had elapsed and Tom had indicated that he was more than pleased with Nina's performance and the performance of the collection agency as a whole, she had hired Deidre Doucet of Gold Standard Real Estate to find a home for Nina. "Come on; ain't going get no cooler longer you sit here," Nina told herself and opened the door of her car. A blast of fetid air blew Nina's pleated skirt up, exposing her thigh high stockings and bald pubic mound to anyone that might have been looking. Tom Thibodaux might be able to tell Nina to wear bras or camisole tops underneath her blouses, but he could not tell Nina she had to wear panties. Going commando was Nina's one act of defiance. Nina quickly pulled the skirt down and smiled self-consciously at the cute blonde girl that flashed a smile at Nina. She locked her car and closed the door and grabbed an abandoned buggy. "Oh, ow! Holy cow!" Nina whistled as the scalding hot plastic handle burned her palm. "Hey, lady, you uh, you buy me a pint of Albertson's Gin," the blonde asked. "What? Albert, how old are you?" Nina asked the attractive girl. "Nineteen," Christine admitted. "Come on, lady, I got the buck; just buy me the pint, huh?" "Buck; how much is a pint of this stuff?" Nina asked, ignoring the sweaty dollar bill the girl held out. "Eighty nine; comes up to ninety seven with tax," Christine said. "Eighty, wow, the good stuff, huh?" Nina said. "Look, I don't think so. Jesus, you're only nineteen? I don't need..." "Come on, lady; shit, I don't get back to the shelter by six, I'll miss supper," Christine begged. "Shelter?" Nina asked, looking again at the girl's clothing of man's shirt and blue jeans cut off into obscene shorts. "Yeah, I'm homeless," Christine admitted, a slight blush coloring her face. That slight blush gave Nina cause to hesitate. She didn't know how long the girl had been homeless, but apparently the girl had not been hardened to the point that she couldn't blush. But she had been beat down enough that she needed cheap alcohol. Nina could now see how badly the girl's hands shook as she held out the dollar bill. "Okay. Come on," Nina said, nodding her head toward the store. "They uh, they don't let me in; manager caught me stealing couple apples," Christine admitted. Nina smiled and nodded. The girl's blush was on her face again. And the girl was honest enough to admit that she resorted to stealing. "Okay, go wait by my car," Nina said. "Don't touch any of the buggies; burned shit out of my hand." Inside of the store, Nina grabbed another buggy. This one had been out of the sun long enough to cool slightly. On impulse, Nina veered to the produce section and grabbed a large Fuji apple. She had done her major shopping earlier in the week, so just needed a few items she'd forgotten about. In the liquor aisle, Nina found the Albertson's Gin and wrinkled her face. The pints were eighty nine cents; a fifth was only a dollar fifty nine. Next to the gin was the Iron Barrel Whiskey. Nina selected a bottle of Iron Barrel Chocolate and a bottle of Iron Barrel Cherry Whiskey. She did a swing around and found the Burns & Burns brand sweetened condensed milk. "Hmm," the cashier said when she spotted the pint of Albertson's Gin among Nina's other items. The woman even turned her head and scanned the parking lot through the plate glass window. She gave Nina a hard look as she continued to ring up Nina's purchases. At the door, Nina grabbed the bags from the buggy and marched into the brutal heat of the summer sun. Nina saw the girl had moved to the other side of her car; out of the unfriendly cashier's line of sight. "Lady, you uh, you didn't take my dollar," Christine said. "Didn't need your dollar," Nina said, putting everything into her trunk. "Aw, you didn't get it?" Christine whined when Nina slammed the trunk shut. "Yeah, I got it," Nina said, hitting the fob for her car. "Come on, get in. I don't know what they're feeding you at the shelter but I'm making country fried steak at my place." "I don't get there by six..." Christine said, slightly panicked. "Kid, when's the last time you had a bath?" Nina asked. "I showered other day," Christine hotly said. "A bath, kid, not a shower. I even got a hot tub," Nina invited. Christine nodded her head and opened the passenger door of the car. She got in and buckled up as Nina started the powerful motor. "You did get me the gin, right?" Christine verified as Nina pulled out of the parking lot. "Yeah," Nina agreed. "So, uh, we going fuck?" Christine blurted out. "God, am I that obvious?" Nina almost asked, looking at the blushing blonde. "I uh, I figured we'd you know, eat, have a couple drinks, get to know each other," Nina admitted, resting her small hand on Christine's warm thigh. "That okay?" "I uh, yeah," Christine conceded. Deidre Doucet had found Nina unit #202 in the Withers Condominiums in Jack's Creek, Louisiana. The four condominiums looked like rustic bars with mottled tin roofs. Each building consisted of four separate units; the odd numbered units had two bedrooms and two baths, the even numbered units had three bedrooms and three full bathrooms. Nina did not know when, if she ever would, but decided the three bedroom unit would be good for her and her husband and their children. Nina pulled into the garage, still chattering pleasantly. Christine sat numbly in the passenger seat, sweating profusely despite the cold air blowing on her. "Lady, please, you get that gin?" Christine begged when Nina popped open the trunk of her car. Yeah; kind of stupid of me," Nina admitted, finding the bottle. "Could see you needed it pretty bad." Christine quickly unscrewed the cap and took a gulp. Nina watched, face soft as Christine shuddered then coughed slightly. Then Nina gathered her other bags and nodded toward the interior door with her head. "Oh, got you this," Nina said, handing Christine the Fuji apple as she settled the bags on the kitchen counter. "Oh, hey, thanks!" Christine said happily. "I mean, if you really hungry, go ahead and eat it," Nina said. "Me? I'm going get out of this get up and then I'll start on our dinner, okay?" "Yeah," Christine said. In her bedroom, Nina pulled off her clothing, rolling the stockings down and off, putting the sodden silk blouse into a bag with her other dry-cleaning- only clothing. Her bra joined her cotton skirt in her hamper. Then Nina pulled on her Dallas Cowboys jersey and padded back to her kitchen. "You like chocolate covered cherries?" Nina asked as the pounded round steak sizzled in the cast iron skillet. "God! Don't remember last time I had any," Christine said, perking up. "Kind of got this idea; I'm a whiskey kind of girl, by the way, what is your name?" Nina said, pouring two jiggers of Iron Barrel Chocolate and two jiggers of Iron Barrel Cherry Whiskey into a tall glass. "Huh? Oh, I'm Christine," Christine said. Christine Gernaud. You?" "Nina Crowder," Nina said, stirring in a tablespoon of condensed sweetened milk to the whiskey, then dropping a few ice cubes into the glass. "Here, try this; tell me what you think." "Mm," Christine sighed. "Oh! That, that's good!" "Yeah?" Nina asked, fixing herself a duplicate. Christine had never drank for flavor. She'd started off with drinking the mouthwash and the vanilla extract and the cooking wine in the Gueydan household. Beer and wine followed; schoolmates at Northside High School could usually steal those from their parents. After graduating from high school, after being thrown out of the Gueydan household when the State of Louisiana quit paying for them to house Christine, Christine drank whatever she could. She preferred the Albertson's Gin; it acted quickly and lasted a good while. "Here we go," Nina said, putting a plate of food in front of Christine. "Man, this is good, yeah," Christine enthused, chewing and swallowing a hunk of meat. "Thanks. My mom was an unbelievably bad cook," Nina admitted. "So my brothers and me; we learned to cook. It was either that or starve to death." "Where's your bathroom?" Christine suddenly asked. The bathroom was a bit of a disappointment. There was no medicine cabinet; Christine had learned to raid medicine cabinets when she was in school. Two or three pills could sometimes take the place of alcohol and no one could smell pills on her breath. This bathroom's medicine cabinet had Band-Aids, some hydrogen peroxide, some tampons and a bottle of Midol and nothing else. Christine returned to the small dining room and saw that Nina had fixed a second drink for the two of them. She smiled and Nina returned the smile. Christine looked at the small red headed woman. When she smiled, Nina Crowder was a very beautiful woman, with pale skin, narrow face with a very light dusting of freckles, and large brown eyes. Her nose was a little sharp, her chin was pointed, and her hair was cut into a short bob that just reached her jawline. Christine impulsively leaned over and gave Nina a quick kiss on her lips. Nina smiled and returned Christine's kiss. "This is good," Christine sighed as the alcohol burned down her throat and reached her gut. "Mm hmm; there's more potatoes and green beans if you want," Nina said, scraping the last of her meal onto her fork. "Yeah?" Christine asked. They took their third drinks onto the screen in patio. Nina took the cover off of the hot tub, fiddled with the jets, then pulled two towels from a small hutch. Christine gulped her drink as she eased her too-large tennis shoes from her feet. "You uh, Nina, you ain't worried someone going see us?" Christine asked as Nina lifted her jersey up and off, revealing her nude body. "Nope," Nina said, pointing to the tall privacy fence that enclosed the back patio from view. Nina became a little aggressive and unbuttoned Christine's shirt. She raised up on her tiptoes and kissed Christine's lips softly. Then Nina licked Christine's lips with her pink tongue. "Mm," Nina cooed as Christine's tongue stabbed into Nina's mouth. "Mm," Christine groaned as Nina's small hands lifted and squeezed Christine's 31D breasts. In high school, when she'd been eating on a regular basis, eating the school breakfasts and lunches, eating the Gueydan's dinners, Christine had sported a 34DD chest. Her nipped in waist had made her large breasts look even larger, and had emphasized her rounded buttocks. Time on the streets had whittled the pounds and inches from Christine's five foot three inch frame. Her hair had been trimmed to waist level the last time she'd had a hair styling done. Her hair now reached to below her buttocks. Christine was grateful for the alcohol; she wasn't sure how she felt about kissing another woman. She'd done some pretty shameful things for alcohol, but she'd never been with a woman. Once, she'd sucked two old guys off for a few worn dollar bills and a pint of Albertson's Gin. The two men had laughed and called her filthy names. The fat one had even slapped her on her face with his cock, smearing his dribble of semen onto her face. But they'd given her a few bucks and a pint of gin, so she'd withstood the shame. Nina unzipped Christine's shorts and ran her fingers over Christine's blonde muff. Christine sucked in a gasp as Nina's finger easily slipped into Christine's wet pussy. Nina slipped Christine's shorts down over her narrow hips and down her slim legs. Then, with another kiss to Christine's lips, Nina pulled Christine to the hot tub. "Upsa-daisy," Nina cheerfully said as she assisted Christine into the bubbling waters. Carefully balancing her drink in hand, Nina kicked one stubby leg up and over the rim of the tub. Christine saw Nina's bald mound split open and saw Nina's puffy inner lips threatening to poke out. Nina used her free hand to balance herself as she lifted the other leg from the ground. Christine now looked at Nina's slim, pale buttocks. "Love coming out here," Nina confessed as she floated over to where Christine perched. "Feel you know, naughty being out here, nude." "But, thought you said no one can see us," Christine asked, glancing around nervously. "They can't but, it's just the whole idea of it," Nina confessed and kissed Christine softly. Christine returned Nina's kiss. When Nina opened her mouth, Christine stuffed her tongue into Nina's mouth. She groaned into Nina's mouth when she felt Nina's fingers dancing across her breasts. "Mm, oh," Christine groaned as Nina's fingers tugged at Christine's right nipple. The bubbling waters caused Christine's large breasts to bobble. The ceiling fans were on medium speed, blowing cool air onto the covered patio. Christine's light brown nipples were crinkled hard; the cool air cooling her wet breasts and shoulders. Nina pulled her mouth from Christine's lips and took a hefty gulp of her drink. Christine followed suit, draining her glass. Nina gently took the emptied glass from Christine's hand and placed the glass on the lip of the tub. She then drained her own glass and set it on the lip, next to Christine's glass. Nina then rolled slightly in the steaming water and pressed her chest against Christine's chest. Their lips mashed together in a passionate kiss. Christine wrapped her arms around the slender red head's torso, pulling Nina tightly against herself. Underneath the bubbling froth, Nina pressed her bald mound against Christine's tuft of blonde hair. Both girls groaned in pleasure as Nina rubbed her crotch firmly against Christine's crotch. "Mm," Nina crooned, bringing her hand between their mounds. "Mm," Christine grunted as Nina's fingers entered her wet pussy. Nina's fingers brought Christine closer and closer to climax. They continued kissing as Nina fingered Christine's pussy. "Come on; you'll love this," Nina husked, pulling Christine from her perch. "Mm," Christine protested; she'd been right at the brink of orgasm. "Don't worry," Nina giggled and pulled Christine toward a molded lounger. "Mm, augh!" Christine cried out as a forceful jet of water pummeled her pussy. Nina's kiss silenced Christine's cry of pleasure. Christine pressed her crotch firmly against the torrent of water as Nina's lips and tongue kissed her and Nina's fingers tugged and teased Christine's nipples. After a second powerful orgasm, Christine slumped in Nina's embrace. Nina then pressed her own small breasts into Christine's hands. Christine sluggishly did toy with Nina's hard mounds for a moment before bending her head and suckling on Nina's left nipple. "Bite, augh, bite it," Nina whispered. Nina shuddered in pleasure as Christine did bite down. Christine then did the same to Nina's right nipple. Christine moved her hand down over Nina's taut belly, over Nina's smooth mound "Damn, how you get it..." Christine asked, feeling how soft and smooth the flesh was. "Electrolysis," Nina said. "Bite it again. I like my nips bbitten." "Christine bit down on Nina's left nipple and pulled her head back. Nina grunted and shuddered, pulling herself back, stretching her breast out even further. "Augh, God yes," Nina cried out as Christine drove two fingers into Nina's wet pussy. After her second orgasm, Nina pulled Christine's head close. The two shared a soft kiss. Just as Christine opened her mouth, the jets suddenly died down. "I set it for twenty minutes; you really don't want be out here do much more than that," Nina said, gently pulling Christine to the edge of the tub. Nina handed Christine one towel and began to dry herself with the second towel. Christine shivered slightly; the ceiling fans were blowing cooled air on her damp flesh. "Come on," Nina urged, opening the door of the house. "Ack!" Christine called out as the chilled air hit her flesh. "Come on," Nina giggled and led Christine up the carpeted stairs. "Ack, ack, ack," Christine complained, shivering in the cold air. "And..." Nina said, pulling back a fluffy comforter and urging Christine to lie underneath the covering. Christine hunkered down, shivering. She watched Nina's compact backside as the woman scampered from the bedroom. A moment later, Nina returned with two fresh drinks. By the time Nina returned, Christine had ceased shivering. She sat up and accepted the drink. "Mm," Christine sighed as she gulped the harsh liquor. Nina took a sip of her own drink, then put the glass on a coaster on her nightstand. Christine took another gulp of her drink, then set her glass down. Nina cupped Christine's head in her small hands, then kissed Christine softly on her lips. Their tongues touch and Nina sucked on Christine's tongue. "Mm," Christine moaned as Nina sucked on Christine's nipple. Nina pressed Christine's breasts together and trailed her hot tongue from one nipple to the other. Then she reached over and grabbed Christine's drink. "Mm, augh!" Christine cried out as Nina again sucked on her left nipple. Nina had captured an ice cube in her mouth when she'd sipped Christine's drink. The cold ice and Nina's warm tongue created a sharp contrast that had Christine's nipple painfully hard. When Nina brought her mouth to the other nipple, Christine again gave a cry. Nina swallowed the sliver of ice cube and warmed Christine's hard nipple with her warm tongue. Nina wiggled down and kicked along the undersides of Christine's breasts. She then licked over Christine's concave belly, wiggling down Christine's prone body. "Ooh," Christine let out a moan as Nina blew warm breath over Christine's puffy labia. Nina thrust her tongue out, licking along Christine's puffy pussy lips. She could taste Christine's excitement on the girl's wet labia. "Mm oh, augh!" Christine cried out when Nina jammed two fingers into Christine's wet pussy. Nina again took a sip from Christine's glass. Christine also took a hefty gulp from her glass as Nina's fingers continued to toy with her pussy. Christine gave another yelp as Nina's warm lips encircled Christine's clitoris. The incredible contrast between Nina's warm mouth and the ice cube in Nina's mouth was intense. Christine arched her back as Nina's mouth and fingers tortured Christine's pussy. "Augh, oh God, God damn, God damn, aught!" Christine screamed in orgasm. Nina sucked and fingered Nina to two more orgasms while frantically rubbing her own pussy to three bucking orgasms. Finally, Christine weakly shoved Nina's mouth from her pussy. Nina rolled onto her side of the bed and picked up her drink. "Oh. My. God," Christine weakly murmured, draining her drink. "That was..." "Yeah, it was," Nina said quietly. Nina had girlfriends when in high school. They'd gather in Marva's bedroom; Marva's mother and father worked at Mickelwhite's Deli and didn't get home until well after nine o'clock in the evening. They'd talk and squeal and gossip. Invariably, the subject of boys and sex would come up and they'd whisper breathlessly about what they would do if ever a boy paid them an iota of attention. They'd even practice on one another. Kisses and gropes became more aggressive, but they never crossed the line into full lesbianism. Their clothing always stayed on. In college, Nina had experimented with some girls. But she would only experiment with other girls when not in a relationship with a boy. Because she didn't play games, because she fucked, Nina was rarely without a boy. Nina's reverie was broken when Christine rolled over next to her and softly kissed Nina's lips. Nina put her glass down and opened her mouth for Christine's tongue. "Mm, yyeess," Nina sighed when Christine bent and took Nina's left nipple into her mouth. Nina tensed as Christine's teeth tugged at her nipple. She felt a minor orgasm well up in her guts as Christine's tongue and teeth tortured her nipple. Christine spent far too long on Nina's nipples, biting and tugging them. Nina's nipples ached by the time Christine wiggled down toward Nina's pubic mound. Nina gripped the back of Christine's head and thrust her mound hard against Christine's mouth. Christine was an inexperienced pussy eater and Nina was growing frustrated with the blonde beauty. Finally, Nina gently pushed Christine's head away. Twice in the night, Nina woke to go to the bathroom. Twice, she looked at the blonde beauty sleeping drunkenly next to her and wondered why she'd invited the girl into her bed. "Am I? I'm not. No, I'm not. Am I" Nina wondered as she looked at the girl's face. "Pancakes," Nina announced, waking Christine in the morning. "Pan, oh wow," Christine mumbled, sitting up. "All we ever get at the shelter is eggs. Oh. And that turkey bacon." Christine ate the six large pancakes Nina put in front of her. Then she fixed herself a drink of vodka and orange juice. Nina said nothing as Christine drank that drink, then made herself a second one. "Need to get more?" Nina softly asked as Christine peered at the nearly empty fifth of vodka. Christine didn't answer. She turned her back to Nina and gulped down her liquid breakfast. Nina came up behind the girl and hugged the girl. Christine's long blonde hair rubbed against Nina's nude body. Nina did not feel the sensuous rubbing of Christine's hair against her small breasts or pubic mound. Nina felt Christine's body shaking with silent sobs, even as the girl gulped down her drink. Nina used the last of the vodka and made Christine a third drink. She then brought the girl up to the first guest bedroom and pushed Christine into the bathroom. "Jacuzzi in here; the bubble baths are just so wonderful," Nina said quietly as she set Christine's drink onto the rim of the tub. "So, get in, sit back and relax, okay?" Christine did loll in the wonderfully scented bubbles, languidly sipping her drink. Nina had set the jets to medium and Christine let the gentle swirling water soothe her. "Okay, here. You said you're a thirty one D, right?" Nina's voice woke Christine from a light slumber. "Huh?" Christine asked and drained her glass' mostly melted ice. "That's pretty nice, isn't it?" Nina smiled, putting a bag on the vanity. When you're all dried off, need you to try on these, okay?" Inside of the bag was a serviceable bra, size 31D, a pair of white cotton briefs, a pair of khaki shorts and a cute light blue top. There was a second bag with some white canvas sneakers, size eight and a large vinyl purse. Inside of the vinyl bag were two pints of Albertson's Gin and a crisp five dollar bill. "The shoes fit? I saw your others were a nine and they were about falling off of you; they fit?" Nina asked when Christine came out of the bathroom. "God, yes; they feel great!" Christine enthused, modeling her new outfit. "Here's your old clothes," Nina said, dropping the shirt and shorts and old, splitting tennis shoes into another plastic bag. "Your apple's on the counter." "Oh. Oh, okay," Christine said, grabbing the large Fuji apple and putting it into her new purse. "Where you want me drop you off?" Nina asked, starting her car. "I uh, I guess by the shelter; it's over there on Ellis Drive," Christine mumbled, pointing listlessly toward the Elgee shelter. "Thanks, lady," Christine said, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut. Nina drove away rapidly, not looking in the rear view mirror. Returning home, Nina checked that the cover was on her hot tub. She then cleaned her home. She even changed the sheets and comforter from her king sized bed, though she normally didn't change the bedding until Mondays. "I don't need..." Nina argued with herself as she scrubbed the Jacuzzi tub. "I, she's just a drunk. I don't have time for..." At four o'clock that afternoon, Nina drove slowly around the Elgee shelter, looking for Christine. She then drove to the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store and looked around the parking lot. Nina drove again to the Elgee shelter, slowly circling the block. Sunday, at random times, Nina drove around the shelter, around the grocery store, crisscrossed the streets around the Elgee shelter and slowly drove through the park near the shelter. Nina saw other people, many of whom looked homeless, but didn't see Christine. "Hey," Nina said quietly when she spotted Christine outside of the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store on Friday. "Hey," Christine let a cautious smile crease her face. "Need a pint?" Nina softly asked, nodding toward the store. "Yeah," Christine agreed, digging in her new purse for a dollar bill. "I got it. Want an apple?" Nina asked. "I can get a banana?" Christine asked. "Yeah," Nina smiled and hit the fob for her car door. "Come on; get out of this heat, huh?" Nina rolled the windows down, leaned over and gave Christine a soft kiss, then went into the grocery store. "Here," Nina said, handing Christine one of the bags. Christine saw a bunch of greenish-yellow bananas, two Fuji apples and two pints of Albertson's Gin. Nina put the other bags at Christine's feet and started the car. "Thanks, lady," Christine said, stuffing nearly all of the banana into her mouth. "Welcome," Nina said, voice flat. Inside of the condominium, Christine drank all of one pint of gin while Nina prepared dinner. With their dinner, Nina made drinks of Nulough's Chocolate flavored Vodka with cola. In the morning, Nina woke up and saw that she was in bed alone. Staggering downstairs, cursing her hangover, Nina saw that Christine had helped herself to all of the Nulough's Vodka, all of the Beefeater London Dry Gin, and had stolen the cash from Nina's wallet. The credit cards and debit card were still in the purse, so Nina did not call the police. There had been roughly forty dollars in the wallet; emergency cash, so Nina shrugged off the cash. Again Nina cleaned her home. She felt an odd hollowness inside as she methodically went from one task to the next. Her last act was to strip the bedding and shove it into the washing machine. >>.>>.>> The Atchafalaya Basin's bitter wind blew an arctic blast that buffeted the 2017 Charger. Nina shivered, despite the car's powerful heater. She slowly pulled into the parking lot of the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store and parked. "Hey Lady, oh shit!" Christine asked, then squealed when she recognized Nina. Nina easily caught up to the blonde; Christine's oversized boots making running very difficult. Nina grabbed the blonde in a bear hug and gave the girl a soft kiss to her lips. "I have been so God damned worried about you," Nina said, tears springing to her eyes. "I'm sorry I stole from you," Christine sobbed out. "Why, why'd you do it? I would have given you, never mind, you need a pint?" Nina asked, hugging the girl. "I yeah," Christine agreed. "Want an apple? They even have bananas? Those are out of season, aren't they? Come on, Jesus, it's cold out here," Nina said, pulling Christine toward the car. There were some bananas and some apples available. Nina also bought two pints of gin, along with her other purchases. At the register, she asked the clerk to break a twenty; asking for four fives. "Still at the shelter?" Nina asked, giving Christine the bananas and apples and pints of gin. "I uh, no," Christine mumbled. "Was They uh, they kicked me out for..." Nina didn't press the issue. She could see the ravages on the blonde's face. When Christine opened her mouth, Nina could see damage to Christine's teeth; signs of smoking meth. "See you still got the purse," Nina smiled softly. "Yeah," Christine whispered. When she pulled up to the entrance of Trahan Park, Nina handed Christine a five dollar bill. She did not look at Christine as Christine hurriedly drank down one of the pints of gin. "Thanks La...thanks Nina," Christine mumbled as she got out of the car. "Uh huh," Nina mumbled and drove away. Nina drove home to Unit 202. Pulling into the garage, Nina allowed the sobs to escape. For several minutes, she leaned her head on the steering wheel and sobbed bitter tears. "Hey," Stephanie Cimo said when she entered the condominium an hour later. "I saw her today," Nina said, draining her glass of Iron Barrel Chocolate and cherry whiskey with a tablespoon of Burns & Burns sweetened condensed milk stirred in. "She here?" Stephanie asked, looking around. "No," Nina said, getting to her feet. "Chicken Parmesan okay?" Stephanie wrapped her arms around Nina and softly kissed the woman. Nina let some fresh sobs escape as her lover held her tightly. "Why don't you let me take care of that?" Stephanie softly asked, kissing Nina's lips. "You just sit down; let me cook tonight." A month after Christine's theft and disappearance, Tom Thibodaux had held a contest among the departments. Top producers for the month of September would win a two hundred and fifty dollar gift certificate to T. Dayton Hair Salon. At the monthly meeting for the first week of October, everyone applauded enthusiastically, along with calls of 'fixed' and 'rigged' when two collection agents won. "And in truth? Nina Crowder, the manager of the Collection Department actually beat both Patrick and Jill; she was double their production combined," Tom said. "So, Nina, here's a gift card for T. Dayton as well." "Huh? Oh, no, I'm management; I'm not..." Nina had protested as the management and staff had applauded for her. "Now that you all see what it takes to win? I look forward to seeing who wins in October, hmm?" Tom said, dismissing the meeting. Nina tried to sell the gift card; she didn't want the services of the exclusive salon. Even at the bargain price of one hundred and fifty dollars, no one was nibbling. Then Nina overheard two women cattily whispering and giggling in the ladies' restroom. When one of the women declared that Nina not only acted like a ball- busting butch, but looked like a bull dyke, Nina resolved to use the card. Nina finished her business, washed her hands, then waited for the two employees to finish their catty gossip. "Oh shit," Jill Newsbaum squeaked when she stepped out of her stall. "Fuck," Jean Turlings moaned when she stepped out of her own stall. "I'll let HR know that this is your last day," Nina said quietly. "And honestly? I'm pretty disappointed in you. You both attended the Diversity in the workplace seminar; you should know better." "Ms. Crowder, I'm sorry," Jill hurriedly said. "Me too," Nina agreed. "See?" Jean screamed as the door closed behind Nina. "That's why everyone says you a fucking butch." After her trip to HR, Nina sat at her desk and looked up the number for T. Dayton Hair Salon. The young lady's response of 'Tee Day taw(n)' made Nina smile. Somehow, the young woman made 'Dayton' sound French. "First time? Hmm, let's see, oh! Ms. Cimo has an availability of Thursday at three; shall I pencil you in, Ms. Crowder?" the young woman asked. "Please," Nina smiled. "Again, Ms. Crowder, I really am sorry," Jill sniffled as she walked past, her few effects in a small cardboard box. "I am too; you were..." Nina said, but the door clicked shut behind Jill. On Thursday, Nina sat on the comfortable couch, looking around at the ostentatious salon. The woman to Nina's right positively reeked of money. The old woman had shiny rings adorning every exposed digit. Her wrists also held jewel encrusted bracelets. The tall red head across from Nina also reeked of money; even though her clothing was casual, Nina could tell the jeans were tailored for the woman's frame. The sweater she casually draped over her shoulders was real cashmere. The two young teenagers with the leggy red head wore the school uniforms of St. Thomas Aquinas Catholic High School. The girls sat and flailed their hands at each other; it took a moment, but Nina realized they were communicating in American Sign Language. An elegant looking blonde strolled toward the woman that sat next to Nina. To the elegant woman's left was a somewhat unattractive girl that smiled happily. "Mrs. Schaub? It is so nice

to see you again," Terry Dayton beamed at her long-time customer. "Oh, you too, my dear," the old woman smiled as she and the blonde exchanged air kisses. "And don't you just look beautiful, Maggie!" "Thanks Grammaw," the pre-adolescent beamed. "We got in some more of the blackberry soap; Mrs. Schaub," Selena, the receptionist beamed as Margaret Schaub put her American Express card onto the counter. "I put aside five bars for you." "Okay, and who's ready to get their heads shaved today?" Terry spoke and signed to Sophia Campion and TeddiAnn Baggett. "You," Sophia signed. "She said 'you!'" TeddiAnn laughed. "Oh, you are a smart one," Terry spoke and signed. "So, ready?" "Ms. Crowder?" an attractive brunette with sparkling hazel eyes asked. "Yes," Nina said, tearing her eyes from the two young girls and the blonde beauty. "Hello. Thank you so much for coming in. I'm Stephanie Cimo; I'll be working with you today," Stephanie beamed, assisting Nina to her feet. "So, you have beautiful skin; do you use sun block? You're a natural red head, but I only see a little bit of freckling," Stephanie said as she eased Nina into a comfortable stylist's chair. "I uh, I won this gift card, I guess I," Nina stammered, uncomfortable in the elegant surroundings. "Oh, lucky you," Stephanie said happily. "Lucky nothing; I busted my ass to get it," Nina smiled. Then Nina lost her smile. She leaned forward and Stephanie leaned toward Nina. "Other day? Overheard these two women? You do something make me not look like a total dyke?" Nina asked quietly. "Ms. Crowder? You don't look, you're a beautiful woman that has an aura of confidence," Stephanie said softly. "But, I suppose, let's see..." An hour after Nina sat in the stylist's chair, Stephanie stepped aside so Nina could see the results. Stephanie had given Nina's orange hair some lighter shading, given the short tresses some body and had combed the hair from right to left, allowing a few strands to perch just to the left of Nina's warm brown eye. Nina did not normally wear makeup, but Stephanie had applied a light foundation, some light blush, and some light lip gloss. On her eyelids, Stephani had brushed a light brown shadow, making Nina's eyes warm and inviting. "And you still have ninety dollars on your gift card," Selena smiled as she rang up the service. "I uh, let's see, fifteen percent of one sixty is.." Nina said. "Twenty four; but Ms. Crowder, that's not necessary," Stephanie said. "It was my pleasure to..." "I get you next time I come in?" Nina asked. "Of course," both Stephanie and Selena answered. Six weeks later, Nina again entered T. Dayton and waited for Stephanie to finish with her current client. The warm smile Stephanie gave to Nina seemed to be a genuine smile. As Stephanie worked, Nina let it slip that she was from Sweet Oak, Texas. "You are not!" Stephanie gasped. "Uh huh, worked at Two Alliance Square, Prescott Conglomerate," Nina said. "Ms. Crowder, I'm from Great Oak!" Stephanie gushed. "And, and, and, get this! I worked at Elegantre, right there, right across the street from Two Alliance Square!" "Get out of here! You did not!" Nina laughed. In hushed, excited giggles, the two women talked about Texas, talked about people and places they both knew. "I moved when Thibodaux Investments wanted to start their collections," Nina said. "You come here for T. Dayton's?" Stephanie lost her happy smile. Nina reached out and clutched the woman's hand. "I, I was, my borfriend; he, Glen was always this kind of real controlling," Stephanie admitted. "You know, would steal my money, then run off and go get high. Couple days later, 'Oh I'm so sorry, babe, it'll never happen again, I've had it, I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired, baby.'" Nina squeezed Stephanie's hand; she'd had a few relationships with men that had used her, used Nina's insecurities to manipulate her. "But the last time? When I told him his bullshit wouldn't work? Son of a bitch broke my jaw. Then when he got out on bail? Tried to choke me to death," Stephanie whispered, blushing in embarrassment. "Hope they put his ass under Stratton," Nina said, naming the maximum security prison located in Lowridge, Texas. "Hope his boyfriend treats him like he treated me," Stephanie whispered and the two women giggled. "And..." Stephanie said when she finished. "Perfect, again," Nina approved her reflection in the mirror. "I uh, I'm not supposed, you ever eat at Cowboy's? Barbecue?" Stephanie asked, adorable blush on her pretty face. "Right there on um, on fifty two?" Nina asked. "Get off at six; see you there at um, Six thirty?" Stephanie asked quietly as they walked to the cashier's station. "Okay," Nina quietly agreed. "And adding in the sixty six on your gift card..." Selena said, tapping rapidly on the keypad. "And add another twenty four for Ms. Cimo's tip," Nina ordered. Away from the opulent setting of the salon, Stephanie squealed, giggled and laughed like a girl. Nina joined in and their food was cold by the time the two finished eating. Outside, Stephanie pointed out a nondescript Kia sedan. Nina proudly pointed out her dark blue Charger. "That, that's a Charger?" Stephanie gushed. "I, Glen was always wanting one; even tried to get me to co-sign for one for him. Thank God I didn't; Glen's never had a job longer than couple of weeks." Their first kiss, Nina trapping Stephanie against the open door of her Kia, was an electric jolt. It was a simple lip to lip kiss, but both Stephanie and Nina felt the kiss surge throughout their bodies. "I uh, I, you ever had the wings at Dead End?" Stephanie stammered. "I, Friday night? Six thirty?" "It's a date," Nina confirmed after punching Stephanie's phone number into her phone. Their second kiss, again, just a lip to lip brush sent another electric jolt through their bodies. Stephanie got into the Kia and smiled through the window as Nina waved, then walked to her Charger. Nina showed off a little, leaving a little strip of rubber in front of Cowboy's. Then, driving past Burns & Burns Grocers Grocery sore, Nina quickly scanned the parking lot, trying to see if she could see Christine. At work the next day, Nina found it hard to concentrate. She found it hard not to text Stephanie, not to call Stephanie. She remembered she and Marla spending hours on the phone, not really saying anything, just squealing and laughing together. "I'm doing tuna steaks on my back patio," Nina said when Stephanie answered her phone at six oh two that evening. "I like to do some asparagus spears and some sweet potato wedges with that. Come over?" Nina texted the address to Stephanie and began to prep her food. Thirty minutes later, her heart pounded in her chest as the doorbell of her condo chimed out. "Hi, I know, we got plans to see each other Fiday, but God! I, I just couldn't wait," Nina admitted as Stephanie entered the living room of her condo. "Wanted to text you like a million times today," Stephanie admitted as she and Nina embraced. "Oh my God, me too!" Nina laughed happily. Their first tongue kiss was a hurried, frenzied one. Both girls were trying to suck the other girl's tongue as their lips mashed together. Nina cupped Stephanie's beautiful round face in her hands and stuffed her tongue into Stephanie's mouth. "Come on; you drink? I got this drink I make, you like chocolate covered cherries? It kind of reminds me of that; let me make you one, tell me what you think, come on," Nina babbled, pulling Stephanie to the liquor cabinet. On the back patio, Stephanie admired the hot tub and playfully shrugged when Nina suggested they could use it later. She sat in one of the chairs and sipped her drink as Nina grilled their supper. "Tuna? Doesn't take long at all," Nina said, carefully monitoring the food. After their meal, Nina and Stephanie sat on the couch and talked and kissed. Stephanie declined a second drink; she was driving and certainly didn't need to be pulled over. "You uh, you could stay the night," Nina offered, blushing hotly. "I could, couldn't I?" Stephanie mused, then held out her glass for a second drink. Stephanie's 35C breasts were capped with large areolae and hard nipples. She admitted, before Glen had broken her jaw and severely bruised her esophagus, she'd been a 38D, but having a jaw wired shut and a throat too sore to swallow had helped her whittle off those last few pounds. "God, they, they're beautiful," Nina cooed, gently caressing Stephanie's breasts. Stephanie's belly still had some softness to it. Her navel was a little tunnel in her belly. Stephanie's hips were generous, a thirty six inches around. Nestled underneath her pale belly was a very neatly trimmed bush of brown curls. Stephanie's light pink lips peeked through the brown curls. "God, you were any more beautiful, I'd hate you," Nina sighed, looking at Stephanie's body. They touched one another, throat, shoulders then breasts. Nina was the first to lean her head forward and bring her mouth to her partner's hard nipples. "Ooh, Nina, yes," Stephanie sighed, holding Nina's head firmly against her breasts. Stephanie was somewhat submissive and allowed Nina to set the pace of their lovemaking. Stephanie allowed Nina to pull her mouth toward Nina's breasts. Stephanie allowed Nina to pull her hands toward Nina's bald mound. Stephanie was quick to orgasm when Nina lapped at Stephanie's pussy while driving two, then three fingers into Stephanie's pussy. She followed up with a second and third orgasm as Nina sucked, then bit Stephanie's clitoris. "You, I want, I need to taste you," Stephanie finally gasped out as Nina was working a fourth finger into Stephanie's sloppy pussy. Their morning was a hurried affair of scrambling into their clothes, kissing, promising to call later, kissing, then finally dashing out of the condo. Friday, over very spicy wings and ice cold draft beers, Stephanie heard about Christine. She saw the pain in Nina's eyes as Nina talked about the blonde beauty that had allowed herself to be sold for a pint of cheap gin. "But, if she hadn't been there," Stephanie softly asked as a girl gyrated on a small stage to 'Everybody Wants Some' by Van Halen. "Would we be together right now?" "I don't, I don't know," Nina admitted. "I guess, probably not." "No. Definitely not," Nina mumbled as Stephanie walked away toward the Ladies Room. Stephanie and Nina both had work on Saturday morning, so had agreed, they'd meet, they'd eat, then they'd go to their separate homes. In the parking lot, as they kissed 'good night' Stephanie begged Nina to come to her apartment. Nina laughed as she followed Stephanie to Venice Apartment. She parked in the 'Visitors' space and Stephanie and Nina held hands as Stephanie led Nina to Apartment 211. Two days after Christmas, Stephanie moved into Nina's condominium. Slowly, the couple settled into a comfortable existence. January 18th, three days after she'd seen Christine, while she was preparing breakfast, Nina heard Summer Duhon, a Channel 12 reporter talking about the three bodies that had been discovered in Trahan Park. "With temperatures reaching twenty degrees overnight, with the wind chill as low as eleven degrees, the medical examiner states the probable cause of death to be hypothermia," Summer said as the camera showed the leg of one victim sticking out from underneath a wooden gazebo. "Nina?" Stephanie softly asked. Nina didn't hear Stephanie. She stared at the leg, stared at the large vinyl boot on the screen of the television. "Oh, Christine," Nina sobbed out. "Oh, dear God, oh Christine." There was no service for Christine or her two male companions. There was no one to claim the bodies and as far as the workers of the small Pinoak, Louisiana cemetery knew, there was no one mourning the passing of the three meth addicts. During the day, Nina was as business-like as ever. She guided her agents with a firm hand and also kept her own production quite high. At home, Stephanie held Nina as Nina sobbed for the loss of a tortured soul. Nina sobbed that Christine never knew how loved and treasured she was. "I'm still here," Stephanie finally said, two weeks after the morning broadcast had shown Nina what had become of her lover. "I know, Baby," Nina smiled softly. "Do you?" Stephanie asked. "What you mean? I..." Nina asked. "When's the last time we made love?" Stephanie challenged. "Nina, when's the last time we took a bath together?" "I, just last, I," Nina struggled to remember. "I bought those body paints; jars haven't even been opened," Stephanie said, a demanding tone creeping into her voice. "You know, I'm used to being second fiddle; I been the girlfriend guys would fuck because the girl they really wanted wouldn't go out with them. I'm used to..." "you're not second fiddle, you're the, God, I made a God damned fool out of myself over you," Nina protested. "Only because Christine isn't here," Stephanie screamed. "She was here? I'd still be just your hair stylist and you wouldn't give a damn about me." The make-up sex was slow and tender. The bath water was cool by the time they got out of the tub. Stephanie allowed Nina to dry her, then lay her out on their bed and slowly, lovingly massage scented lotion into Stephanie's skin. They slept in the nude, naked body touching naked body. On Valentine's Day, Nina took Stephanie to Henri's, a trendy, expensive French restaurant in Elgee. Over the delicious raspberry truffle cake and bitter expresso, Nina gave Stephanie an heart shaped pendant with large emerald stone in the center. Stephanie's gift to Nina was a pearl necklace with matching earrings. Home again, the lovers used the last of the washable body paint, drawing hearts onto each other's breasts, bellies and buttocks. Helping each other wash off the body paint was nearly as much fun as applying the thick colors. Stephanie even painted a large green heart over Nina's bald pubic mound. That took extra rubbing with a soft washcloth to make sure all traces were fully removed. "You know, if we had a baby, we could name her Christine if it were a girl," Nina commented over dinner of tacos with her home-made salsa and home-made guacamole. Stephanie took a hefty gulp of the sangria wine. Carefully, she set the glass down and looked across the table at Nina. "One problem with that, Nina," Stephanie said, voice tight. "Well, two problems. One, I don't have a dick and last time I checked? You don't either. And two? I'll be damned if I'd ever let you name any baby we might ever have after that skanky ass meth addict." "No, no, we'd name her Christine Stephanie," Nina tried to bargain. "No, Nina, not just no but fuck no," Stephanie screamed, hurling her dish across the dining room to smash against the wall. The dish shattered into several pieces. Remnants of taco and refried beans clung to the wall and baseboard and floor. Stephanie followed the sudden violent act by hurling her glass of wine at Nina's shocked face. "I, I hate you!" Stephanie screamed at Nina. "God damn you, you selfish bitch," Stephanie screamed, running from the room. "And God damn that fucking Christine; I hope she's burning in Hell right now." Nina dabbed at the wine that had spilled onto her blouse, wondering if Professional Dry Cleaner would be able to get the stain out. Tears spilled down her face as she slowly cleaned the broken dish and glass and Stephanie's dinner. Then, refilling her glass, Nina sat and finished her own meal. Overhead, Nina could hear Stephanie marching back and forth. She could not make out the words, but could hear Stephanie screaming at her from time to time. "Stephanie, I..." Nina said, knocking on the closed door of the guest bedroom. "Go away, Nina," Stephanie's heavy voice called out. "Just, I can't. I can't look at you right now." "I love you," Nina sobbed out, but got no response. Nina almost called in sick the following morning. She certainly felt ill; head hammering, brain foggy from lack of sleep, heart heavy with pain. But it was the first of the month; there were calls to be made, papers to be filed, accounts to be reconciled. Nina knocked softly on the closed door of the guest room. "What?" came the heavy response. "I, I'm going to work now," Nina said. There was no response. Nina rested her forehead against the cool wood of the door. "I'm going to work now," Nina repeated. "I uh, I love you Stephanie. I, I hope we can talk tonight, okay?" There was no reply. Nina slowly pulled her head off of the door and walked down the stairs. She grabbed a protein bar and a yogurt before leaving the condo. The garage door was beginning to jerk and hesitate; Nina wondered who to call to take a look at the door. At her coffee break and her lunch break, Nina did send a text message to Stephanie. She sent a simple declaration of love and a sincere wish to talk. She got no reply to any of her messages. Arriving home, bone tired from lack of sleep and a grueling day at the office, made all the more grueling by two associates abruptly quitting and walking out, Nina wearily climbed the stairs. The door to the guest room was open and Nina looked in. She couldn't help but smile; Stephanie had neatly made the bed before leaving for work. Stephanie was incapable of leaving a bed unmade. The smile quickly left Nina's lips. Stephanie's pillow was not on the bed. Stephanie's fuzzy flip-flop slippers were not peeking out from underneath the bed. Nina turned and walked quickly to her bedroom. Stephanie's pillow was not in her usual spot. Stephanie's slippers were not underneath the bed. Stephanie's cosmetics were gone. Her clothing was gone. The only thing of Stephanie's left behind was her emerald heart pendant and gold chain. That, Stephanie had placed on Nina's pillow. Calls and text messages to Stephanie's phone were unanswered. The next day, on her first coffee break, Nina called T. Dayton and was informed by Selena that Stephanie no longer worked at T. Dayton; siting a family emergency. The heavy ball of lead in Nina's stomach turned into a ball of icy determination. If the wish for a baby had driven Stephanie away, then Nina would see it through to the bitter end. "That's the fucking problem with you, Nina," Ted, Nina's last boyfriend had yelled. "You're in a fucking hole, you know you're in a hole, but do you stop digging? Fuck no! You just keep digging and digging until there's just no hope of ever getting out the fucking hole, Nina." The University of Louisiana at DeGarde had an on-line newspaper. Nina went on and logged into the 'Personals' section. She clicked on 'Woman 2 Woman' then laughed at herself. She then clicked on 'Man 2 Woman' and read through the profiles. A few interested her and she clicked the check mark next to their profile header. The two that had pictures showing handsome blonde college boys, Nina composed a little note, explaining she was not looking for a relationship; she was looking for a few hours of fun. The one that did not have a photograph, Nina asked for a photograph and explained she wasn't looking for any relationship. Harrison Smith replied that he was not looking for fun; he was tired of playing around and was looking for someone to share his life with. Nina thanked him for his response. The gentleman without a photo responded and Nina shook her head. Bobby was a Latino male; therefore, did not suit Nina's agenda. In the 'Woman 2 Men' section, Nina posted a recent photograph of herself, one that Stephanie had taken just as Nina was stepping into the living room, ready for a date. Nina's eyes filled with tears; it had been their Valentine's Day date. Within hours of posting the profile and photograph, Nina had received seventy three responses. The next day, Nina requested that the profile and photograph be removed; she had almost three hundred responses. "Who says Honesty don't pay, huh?" Nina smirked. Weeding through the emails, Nina deleted most of them. Her ad had stated she was looking for a white male, preferably blond, for some fun and nothing else. But the vast majority of her responses were from African-American males promising her that they'd deliver on the fun. Since her ad had been pretty specific, Nina saw no reason to send a polite note of rejection to the men. A few back and forth responses helped Nina whittle down the fifty seven men down to twelve potentials. Another two fell out when their responses took on a demanding tone. The ten remaining were shuffled and seven fell out when they balked at providing a clean bill of health. Nina got out her tablet and guesstimated that her most fertile time would be between Saturday, March twentieth and Sunday, March twenty first. Freddie Loomis agreed to meet Nina at Saladelights for an early lunch on Saturday. Austin Orr agreed that A Sunday brunch at Side By Side Steaks would be wonderful. Greg Knowles was agreeable to dinner Saturday evening at Tommy's Po-Boys. Nina rented a room at the DeGarde Inn, locked her purse in the trunk of her car and walked to the trendy Saladelights. Entering the restaurant, Nina did conclude, it had been a poor choice to meet and get to know a man she was about to have sex with. The tables were small and crowded together. The seats were hard and uncomfortable. And the floor was ceramic tile. Sound bounced off of the hard walls and floors and chairs scraping back and forth made an unbelievable racket. "Hi, please tell me you're Nina," a large, handsome, well-built young man smiled down at Nina. "I, even if I wasn't, I'd say I am," Nina admitted, looking at the young man. "That's very sweet of you," Freddie smiled. "ever eat here? They have an amazing roasted vegetable salad; they serve it warm." Freddie Loomis told Nina about growing up in a very small town in rural Illinois; he'd never even played backyard football as a kid. He was actually attending U.L.D on an academic scholarship, currently he was working on his Doctorate in Engineering. But his freshman year, he walked on and the coach put him in as Nose Tackle and he'd fallen in love with the game. "A lot of people look at football and say it's just a bunch of guys hitting each other," Freddie said, very animated. "But there's preparation, and anticipating what your opponent will do and what will you do if he does this, or if he does that?" Nina agreed; she'd looked at football as little more than twenty two big sweaty men fighting over one football. But listening to Freddie explain the components of the sport, Nina found herself looking forward to the next U.L.D. Storm football season. "I have a room over at the DeGarde," Nina admitted as she lost the attempt to pay their bill. "Oh?" Freddie smiled. "I take it I passed?" "Yeah, you passed," Nina let an embarrassed giggle escape. In the motel room, Nina gave a quick glance at her wristwatch. She deduced she had four and a half hours to drain as much baby juice out of Freddie's balls before she would have to shower and dress for her date with Greg Knowles. "Holy cow," Nina said out loud when she saw what Freddie Loomis had in his jeans. The large man was certainly proportional. His cock was a fat seven and a half inches long and very thick. Nina wondered if she'd be able to get her mouth around it, then remembered, she wasn't there to put her mouth around it. "Mm hmm, you, you are one sexy woman," Freddie complimented and easily picked Nina up. "Shit, this might not have been the best idea," Nina suddenly flinched. If Freddie decided he did not want to leave at four thirty, if Freddie decided he wanted more than just pussy from Nina, Nina had no way of defending herself. She'd been a second dan black belt in Tae Kwon Do, but had not kept up with the discipline. She couldn't even think of first form as the large man easily held her in his massive arms. "Do you stop digging? Fuck no! You just keep digging and digging until there's just no hope of ever getting out the fucking hole, Nina," Nina heard Ted's words echo in her brain. Freddie's kiss was a gentle one. His caresses were soft, exploratory caresses. When he gently placed Nina onto the bed, she relaxed and spread her legs. "Mm, augh!" Nina cried out as Freddie glued his mouth to her hairless mound. "Dick, stick that dick in me," Nina begged after Freddie had tongued her pussy to orgasm. "Yes ma'am," Freddie smiled and pressed his hard cock to the mouth of her pussy. Nina screamed out as Freddie's cock battered into her cervix. Her second orgasm was a painful one. Thankfully, Freddie was quick to ejaculate. Nina found out that she could indeed wrap her mouth around Freddie's cock as she sucked him to a second erection. She then straddled his hips and mounted him. Her brown eyes sqeezed shut as again, his cock pushed into her cervix. "Oh God damn, God damn," Nina chanted as she bounced up and down on his meat. She did not orgasm until he again blasted her insides full of his sperm. "What time, damn, I'm, hey Nina, I'm sorry, I got a tutoring session at three," Freddie said, glancing over at the bedside clock. Nina talked Freddie into one more session, doggy style. Then he dressed and left; bedside clock showing two forty nine. Nina swabbed a --tip into a puddle of Freddie's semen that had leaked out onto the comforter. She sealed the!-tip into a small sandwich bag and wrote 'Freddie Loomis' on the bag with a marker. With a shrug, she then licked the cooling puddle of semen from the polyester comforter. She set the bedside clock alarm for four thrity, wedged two pillows under her ass and took a nap. At four thirty, Nina slapped the 'Snooze' button and napped. Then she carefully sponged her pussy clean and dressed to meet with Greg Knowles. Over shrimp po-boys, which Greg dressed with an almost obscene amount of hot sauce, Nina found Greg to be a charming, funny man with a self-deprecating sense of humor. She hoped her pussy wouldn't be too sore to enjoy sex with the handsome man. "I uh, seriously?" Greg asked when Nina invited him back to her motel room. "I, what, you uh, you don't want to?" Nina asked, stomach knotting up. "I uh, no, I mean, yes, but, you, Nina, you're beautiful," Greg stammered. "So? Beautiful women like fucking too," Nina smiled, opening the door of her Charger. "Oh goody!" Greg said and Nina laughed. Greg's cock was six and a half inches long and was thick. He wasn't as large as Freddie and thankfully, his cock wasn't as large as Freddie's. Greg moved to put his mouth on Nina's pussy but she stopped him. "No. I just want you to fuck me," Nina husked. Greg did his best to fuck Nina through the mattress. He managed to put four loads into Nina's pussy before his cock refused to rise. Nina kissed him hotly and invited him to stay the night. In the bathroom, Nina jammed a Q-tip into her sloppy pussy and gathered some of Greg Knowles's DNA. She put the!-tip into a sandwich bag and hurriedly wrote 'Greg Knowles' onto the bag. They shared a few kisses before rolling over and shutting off the lights. In the morning, Nina managed to get two more loads out of Greg before shoving him out of her motel room. Austin Orr was a handsome blond man with an unmistakable drawl. Nina and he both shared a chuckle; he was from Oakleaf and she from Sweet Oak, which was in Oakleaf County. Nina saw the faint tan line on his ring finger, could see that Austin Orr had recently removed a ring from the finger. She shrugged; she wasn't looking for a husband. "Do you stop digging? Fuck no! You just keep digging and digging until there's just no hope of ever getting out the fucking hole, Nina." She could hear Ted's voice as she and Austin ate and chatted and got up to get more food. "I know I should stop, but God, at the prices they charging?" Austin admitted when he sat down with his third plate. "So, what you going tell your wife when she asks you where you been?" Nina casually asked, taking a bite of the delicious cinnamon roll. "You mean, before or after I ask her how her girlfriend is?" Austin asked, unperturbed at the question. "I'm getting an orange juice; you want one?" Nina smiled. Austin also sported six and a half inches. Nina wondered if Austin could taste Greg's semen in her pussy as he tongued her to orgasm. The thought that she was feeding a philandering husband another man's semen did give Nina a dirty little thrill. At six that evening, Nina swabbed her anus and put the soiled Q-tip into the third sandwich bag and wrote 'Austin Orr' on the bag. Her pussy was raw, sex was becoming painful. Austin shrugged; he'd managed four times with the petite red head. Nina then suggested anal sex and smiled proudly when Austin's cock jerked to full erection. After collecting the swab of Austin's DNA, Nina swabbed her mouth, coating the!-tip with her own saliva and sealed it in a fourth bag with her own name on the bag. "Hope you come again," the clerk smiled as Nina paid for the room. Nina smiled and thanked the woman. Then she sat in her car for several long moments. Finally she said a silent prayer that she'd been successful; she really didn't think she could stomach doing this again and started her car. Nina had enjoyed herself; each partner had brought her to orgasm. But her ass and pussy were sore; her pussy felt bruised. And her heart and mind were in turmoil, arguing with her over her actions. As she drove past the Kimble Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store, Nina glanced at the parking lot. She felt the sting of tears; she knew Christine wouldn't be there. The blonde beauty would never be there ever again, no matter how many times Nina searched for her. Home again, Nina sighed in frustration. She still had not called anyone about the garage door and it was getting worse. Then she emptied the suitcase's clothing into the washing machine, making sure to separate the Q-tips first. Those sandwich bags went into her freezer, inside of a larger bag. "Now, the hard part," Nina said aloud. "The waiting." The first day her period was to start, Nina was breathless. She checked and checked again but there was no spotting. The dreaded cramps had not begun. She still placed a pad in her panties, just in case and went to work. By the fourth day, Nina was unable to contain her joy. The realization that she had no one to share this joy with did diminish her happiness greatly. Her mother certainly would not be happy to hear that her daughter, her unmarried daughter was pregnant with a stranger's baby. Even though her mother was an atheist, Shirley Anne Wesson Crowder Carson Blumenthal insisted that her only daughter must live according to high moral standards. Shirley's four sons and two step-sons were not held to these exacting standards; boys will be boys, after all. "Stephanie," Nina sniffled, rubbing the emerald heart pendant that dangled around her neck. Nina wished she knew how to get in touch with the Texas cutie; she wanted to share her happiness with her lover. There was no listing of any Cimo in or around Oakleaf, even though Stephanie had said her father was still alive. Of course, if Nina had known how to get in touch with Stephanie, Nina would have barraged her lover with countless entreaties to please come home. She would have spent hours on the phone begging and pleading and manipulating to get Stephanie to come home. A few weeks later, Nina was able to get an appointment to see Dr. Ellen Sweetman, an Ob/Gyn. Dr. Sweetman confirmed Nina's prognosis; Nina was just over six weeks along in her pregnancy. Nina smiled happily as she paid the co-pay for her office visit. Each of the men she'd fucked had been good looking, intelligent men. Truthfully, though, she hoped it was either Freddie or Greg that had impregnated her. In hindsight, Austin Orr had been a mistake. Did she really want her baby to have a man that so casually cheated on his wife as the father? Tom Thibodaux did congratulate Nina when Nina confided in him. He smiled when he disclosed that his wife, Kimberly was expecting their second child. "So, our children will probably play together," Tom smiled, then lost his smile and he lowered his voice. "You, are you going to keep it?" "Yes, most definitely," Nina smiled. "But, my kid picks up any bad habits? I'm blaming it on your kids." "And Kimberly will blame it on me," Tom laughed happily. Quarterly bonuses were awarded; everyone was alerted of which departments, which department heads would be receiving bonuses. And, all were not told, but all were aware that the financial planning department was not receiving any bonuses. Michael Trahan, the head of the Financial Planning Department would not be receiving any bonus for that quarter. With her bonus, Nina contacted Reynold Reynolds and asked the private investigator to please find Stephanie Cimo. As Nina tapped out the retainer payment on her cell phone, she wondered if the morbidly obese man would even live long enough to cash the retainer; he was sweating profusely despite the ice-cold air in his office. "So, how far along are you?" Reynold asked as Nina turned to leave his office. "Just about two months; how could you tell?" Nina asked. "I'm not even showing yet." "Call it a hunch," Reynold smiled and groaned as he got to his feet. In the full length mirror that hung over her bedroom door, Nina pulled on her Dallas Cowboys Romo jersey and put a wadded up pillow in the front. She looked at herself, her pregnant self in the mirror and laughed out loud. Then, laying on the bed, Nina hiked up the hem of the jersey to just underneath her 'belly' and masturbated, first with fingers, then with her vibrator. She was quick to orgasm. "Wasn't too hard to find," Reynold Reynolds disclosed a few days later. "Owns some make-up and hair salon in Myndee, Arkansas. Called 'Salon Cimo.'" "Wow, that was quick," Nina praised. Ronald James, father of Stephanie's old boyfriend, Glen James had moved to Myndee, Arkansas just after requesting a divorce from Betty James, Glen's mother. A week after his departure, three pregnant teenagers showed up at Ronald's former residence, looking for Ronald. Ronald had always extended an invitation to his only son to come live with him. Ronald extended that same invitation to Stephanie, Glen's girlfriend. Ronald often invited his four daughters to come visit, to come live with him in Myndee, but none of his daughters wanted anything to do with their father. Stephanie had modeled Salon Cimo after T. Dayton Hair Salon and Elegantre's Cosmetics. She rented stations in her salon to none but the most attractive young women. They sold organic cosmetics and hair and skin care products. Each stylist was to wear dresses or blouses and skirts, never slacks or jeans. Over their clothing, the stylists wore an unbuttoned lab coat. Each station was illuminated by recessed lighting; there were no clocks visible anywhere, and hidden speakers played Classical music softly in the background. To the left of Salon Cimo was Burke's Shoes, and to the right was Zydeco's Coffee. They received many walk-ins from these two shops; Stephanie congratulated herself for choosing the right location. The tire store at the end of the strip mall was her one bone of contention. That and Ronald James. Daily, Stephanie Cimo cursed Nina Crowder for shoving her into the lecherous grasp of Ronald James. Each night, as Ronald James defiled her flesh, Stephanie's hatred of Nina Crowder grew deeper and deeper. "Ms. Cimo?" Theresa Meyers's soft voice interrupted Stephanie's cleaning of her work area. "Yes," Stephanie asked, putting the cordless vacuum cleaner into its wall sleeve. "There is a new client asking to see you, Ms. Cimo," Theresa said, voice low and modulated. "I will be right there," Stephanie said, striding to the partition that kept stations and clients separated. The front of the shop had four comfortable couches forming three sides of a rectangle. Theresa's station formed the fourth wall of the rectangle; she was seated next to the entrance of the shop. In between the first and second couch and second and third couch were glass shelves that displayed skin care and hair care products. To the left of Theresa's station was the entrance, to her right were glass shelves of their cosmetics. The poised, beautiful blonde girl kept an eagle eye on the wares; she received a four percent commission on any items she sold, and received no commission on any items that were stolen. "Yes?" Stephanie said, smiling as she stepped around the partition. The smile froze on her lips as she stared at Nina Crowder. Stephanie stopped in her tracks and stared at the cause of her misery. "You..." Stephanie

hissed, venom bubbling up. "I, is there somewhere we can talk?" Nina asked softly. There were two customers idly flipping through magazines, one customer playing on her phone, and an employee sitting to Nina's right. Nina did not wish to 'out' herself or Stephanie in front of Stephanie's customers and employees. "I, we, I have nothing to say to you," Stephanie hissed hatefully. "You God damned bitch; I wish you were dead. Do you hear me? I wish you were dead." Nina tightened her face; she had expected this response. In her heart, she had hoped she would get a much more joyful reception, but she had expected anger, bitterness, vitriol. She stoically nodded her head and turned to leave. "I wish you nothing but happiness and success," Nina said quietly and pushed open the door of the salon. Zydeco Coffee served Nina three piping hot beignets and fresh pressed coffee. She used five napkins from the table dispenser to wipe at her flow of tears. Wearily, she took her paper plate and Styrofoam coffee cup to the trash bin, then ducked into the bathroom. She had a five hour drive ahead of her. Stepping into the small bathroom, Nina stopped and stared at Christine. She could not breathe as she saw the blonde beauty pacing back and forth in the tiny room. Christine wore a wife beater shirt that displayed her ample chest to perfection. The hem of the graying white shirt did not meet the waistband of her low rider cut-off denim shorts. Her hip bones and flat belly were evident in her skimpy attire. When she turned, cheap flip flops slapping the tiled floor, the shorts displayed Christine's delicious backside. Her blonde hair was done up in a ponytail, dangling down to just below her beautiful ass. Her skin was tanned, a healthy tan, not the kind of tan achieved in a tanning salon. "Chris, Christine?" Nina managed to croak out, sure she would faint. "Huh? Sorry, lady, you got me confused for someone else," Robin Brundette smiled tightly. "Oh. My. God. You, you look just, I mean you two could be twins," Nina stammered and ducked into a stall. "Lady, you get me out of here, I'll be anyone you want," Robin hissed urgently. "Talk," Nina ordered. "You a fugitive? You can forget it." Standing outside of Nina's stall, Robin hurriedly told Nina about her abusive marriage to her on again off again high school sweetheart. They'd married upon graduation because she'd gotten herself pregnant. "Humph! Takes two to get pregnant," Nina snapped. "Tell him that, huh?" Robin agreed. Robbie had a job at Huxton Nissan dealership, worked no less than forty hours a week, but never seemed to have any money. They'd lost the baby; Robin blamed herself and Robbie blamed her for losing the baby. Robbie also blamed Robin for 'trapping' him into a marriage. "Then get a divorce," Nina suggested, flushing the toilet. "Lady, you don't think I tried?" Robin said. "Jesus, left him like a hundred times but he always finds me. Somehow he always finds me and..." Robin broke down and sobbed as she talked about the physical abuse, verbal abuse, and the emotional abuse. She couldn't go to the police, his uncle on his mom's side was the Sheriff and he had two cousins and an older brother that were cops. Robbie's uncle on his father's side was an assistant DA for Clarkston County. Because he was chronically broke, Robbie had Robin dancing at The Captain's Table, a gentlemen's club in Myndee. He was constantly digging through her purse, taking her nightly earnings. "Course, then he's saying I'm cheating on him; how fucked up is that, huh?" Robin sobbed. "He's one got me dancing there, then gets all pissed off 'cause I'm dancing there." "And you say he keeps finding you?" Nina asked, washing her hands. "Yeah. Went to my Momma's, next day, there he is. Went and stayed at Michelle's? Not even next day he's banging on the door," Robin agreed. "Got a phone?" Nina asked, letting the air blower dry her hands. "God, hate these things." "I uh, yeah, you need to use it?" Robin asked, digging her cell phone out of her purse. "This locked?" Nina asked, taking the phone from Robin's hand. Robin unlocked the phone and Nina quickly scanned through and found the 'Find My Phone' app on the device. Robin's mouth dropped open; she'd not known the tracker had been installed. "Okay, so that's how he's been finding you," Nina said. "There anywhere you want me to drop you off?" "Where you going?" Robin asked. "Home. Louisiana," Nina said, handing Robin the phone. "But, Christine, shit, I mean Robin, you, you even know anyone in Louisiana?" "I know you," Robin said. "No you don't," Nina smiled. "You don't know a thing about me. For all you know, you could be jumping from the frying pan into the fire." "Look, lady, none of my friends, Jesus, they all scared of him," Robin begged. "Shelter?" Nina suggested. "Talk about frying pan into the fire," Robin scoffed. "Went there one night. One night. Some psycho bitch starts screaming at me that I stole her bag and pulls a knife on me. Went to take a shower and two guys tried to rape me. And then Rodney, his ass hole brother shows up." "Shit. Just. Shit. All right kid, come on; we got about six hours ahead of us," Nina sighed. Robin was skittish as they left the bathroom. She looked around furtively as they walked across the parking lot toward Nina's midnight blue Charger. Inside of the car, Robin hunkered down. "What kind of car Robbie drive?" Nina asked. "A ninety nine Maxima, this kind of dark green thing," Robin said. "All right; we need stop off anywhere? You need get anything? Clothes? Money?" Nina asked, starting the car. "Got all my money right here," Robin admitted, nudging her purse. "Just drive, lady." "My name's Nina," Nina said, pulling out onto Holland Drive. "Quit calling me 'lady,' huh? Shit. Makes me feel old." Nina did not comment, but just as she turned from Holland drive onto Highway 119, she saw a dark green car turn into the parking lot they'd just left. She had no idea if it was a Nissan Maxima or not but the car's paint was faded; it certainly could be circa 1999. Stephanie turned from the large picture window as the dark blue Charger turned onto Highway 119. With icy resolve, she marched to her station and sat in her stylist's chair to begin her plan of action. No longer would she allow Nina Crowder to dictate her life for her. She would no longer allow herself to be a victim. Stephanie decided that her first act would be to find a place to live; Stephanie had a steady source of income and, despite Glen's best efforts, had an excellent credit rating. Her next step would be to extricate herself from Ronald's filthy clutches. Clarkston County Police Department," the mechanical voice intoned before launching into the prompts. Stephanie selected 'non-emergency' and determined, if she'd not heard back from them by four o'clock, their closing time, she would simply drive to the police department. She also determined to get her own cell phone; Ronald had magnanimously taken Stephanie to PC Nation and selected a new phone for her. Stephanie now realized, it was so that he could keep tabs on his property. "Fuck you, Ronald James, and fuck you, Nina Crowder," Stephanie growled, then pasted a smile on her face for her next customer. While Stephanie listened as Connie Trussaud requested a miracle, requested that Stephanie somehow give Connie the thickness and volume of hair she'd had nearly forty years ago, Robbie Brundette marched around the shoe store looking for Robin. The girl at Zydeco's Coffee had smiled and laughed and flirted with Robbie, and said that yes, she'd seen a girl fitting his description of Robin in there maybe twenty minutes ago, but hadn't seen her since. The manager of Burke's Shoes politely asked Robbie, if he wasn't in there to look at shoes, please leave. Robbie politely told the wrinkled up old hag to suck his dick; he was looking for his bitch wife. Stepping outside, Robbie again looked inside the plate glass window of Salon Cimo; the receptionist had told him no girl bearing any resemblance to his description of Robin had entered the salon. He didn't see Robin in the limited view the window afforded. Robbie checked his 'Find My Phone' app and cursed; nothing was showing up for Robin's phone number. He wandered down to the tire store, but Robin was not visible in the showroom or in the service bay. "Aw bitch, that is your fucking ass, hear?" he snarled, punching number 8 on his phone. Robin had asked him once why she was number 8 and not number 1. Robbie had smirked and told her maybe she needed work a little harder, maybe he might make her number 1. Then he grabbed his crotch and told Robin 'ate me.' "Aw shit," Robin squeaked when 'All My Life' by Foo Fighters began to sound from her purse. "Problem?" Nina asked, glancing in her rear view mirror, then at her companion. "That, that's Robbie," Robin whispered, terrified. "Give me the phone," Nina ordered. "Yeah, who this is?" Nina asked, adopting a thick sounding voice. "What? Who is this?" Robbie demanded. "Nuh uh, I axed you first," Nina said. "Who you?" "What are you doing with my wife's phone?" Robbie demanded. "Nuh uh, I was sitting in that zwy de cuh, coh, whatever it is and this girl leave her purse when she goes drop the kids off at the pool so it mine now," Nina declared. "Bitch, better bring that phone on back here," Robbie barked. "Bitch? You calling me bitch? Know what, bitch, I'm blocking your ass. That's right, who the bitch now, mother fucker," Nina yelled and hung up. "Quick, block his number," Nina ordered, tossing the phone to Robin. "I, I can't believe, I can't believe you talked to him like that!" Robin laughed merrily as she rapidly punched in the 'block' command. "Aw, your ignorant ass is one dead bitch I find you," Robbie screamed. "So, this Chrissie, Christine, she your sister or something?" Robin asked, dropping the phone into her purse. "No, she uh, she was just this girl," Nina said, staring straight ahead. "I mean, you walked in, seen me and just kind of froze there," Robin said, looking at Nina's pinched face. "She uh, she, I picked her up one night," Nina admitted, face flaming hotly. "Uh huh, and?" Robin asked when a long moment of silence followed. "I, she was this drunk, standing outside of Burns groceries, looking for someone buy her a pint of gin," Nina said. "And you bought her a pint of gin and then...?" Robin prompted. "We went back to my place and fucked," Nina admitted, face bright red. "I uh, oh," Robin said, staring hard at the blushing Nina. "And couple weeks later, picked her up again, and couple months go by and she died, out in the cold; I need get some gas," Nina said, choking out the last words. Nina pulled into a gas station and killed the engine. She nodded when Robin asked if she could go to the bathroom. "Hey, how old are you?" Robin asked, returning to the car. "Twenty seven, fixing be twenty eight; why?" Nina asked, starting the car. "Ass hole won't sell me a quart of Gratchley's 'cause I'm only twenty," Robin snapped. "Gratchley's? Jesus, that's what, like fifty cents?" Nina scoffed. "Hey! I like it," Robin argued. "Come on; I got the money." "Whatever," Nina said but killed the powerful engine. She located the Gratchley's Veer quart bottles and grabbed one. She then located the St. Elizabeth Lager and grabbed a six pack of the ice cold cans. "Told that girl she ain't old enough be buying that stuff," the grizzled old man snapped. "Uh huh, but I am," Nina said and showed him her driver's license. "Whatever," the man said and packed quart bottle and six pack into two separate bags. "Here," Nina said, getting into the car. "Before you take one sip of that nasty ass Gratchley's, need to get a taste of what a good beer supposed taste like." Robin looked at the can and wrinkled her face. Then, with a shrug, she popped the tab and took a big sip of the beer. "Better than Gratchley's?" Nina asked, pulling onto the highway again. "Robin just shrugged and drained the can of beer. Then, she unscrewed the cap from the Gratchley's Beer and drank down nearly half of the bottle. "So, uh, you, this uh, this Christine," Robin asked. "She uh, she know you was gay? I mean, when she asked you to..." "I'm Bisex...know what? I'm gay. I am gay," Nina said aloud. Nina was in a car, driving down a two lane blacktop because she'd driven nearly six hours in the hopes of persuading her female lover to return to Louisiana. Of all of her previous heterosexual relationships, Nina had never driven six minutes in the hopes of persuading any man to come back to her. She certainly never spent a dime on searching for any of them. When she'd lain in bed with Freddie, or Greg, or Austin, Nina had enjoyed the intimacy, but felt no romantic connection to any of them. They had been a source of sperm and nothing more. She wouldn't spend one penny ever looking for any of them. "No, Christine didn't know I was gay," Nina said. "But when I got her in my car, she kind of figured she was going have give up the pussy." "I'm, I'm going have give up the pussy?" Robin asked. "No. I, no. I mean, shit, yeah, look at you, big old boobs, pussy all hanging out them shorts? Yeah, I want to fuck you, but, no. I'm, I'm not into using people, shit, broke my heart one time and one time is too many. No, Robin, I'm, I'm not going use you like that," Nina declared. Robin guzzled the last of her Gratchley's Beer. She then looked at the five cans of St. Elizabeth Lager. Nina waved with her hand. "Go ahead; I'm driving," Nina said. Robin drained a second can of the beer and nodded. Nina saw a Newhart's restaurant ahead and put on her blinker. "I been driving since seven; I'm starving," Nina declared. "Those beignets didn't even start to fil me up." "Good; 'bout pee on myself," Robin admitted. "I bet," Nina smiled. "That's fifty six ounces of beer you got in you. Don't know how much a bladder can hold, but..." At the counter, Nina ordered a cheeseburger and thick cut French fries and chocolate malt. She specified pepper jack cheese, add grilled onions, grilled bell peppers and grilled jalapeno peppers. The blonde girl behind the counter gave a smile and giggle when Nina said she was in the mood to hate herself afterward. Nina looked at the metallic glint of orthodontic braces the cute teenager sported and felt a shiver of desire ripple through her. She shook her head; the kid was just a teenager, and was more than likely heterosexual. She thanked the girl and stepped aside to wait for her order. "Wow," Robin commented as she looked at the peppers and onions dripping from the burger. "They're not shy with that stuff, huh?" "Yeah, being pregnant has really screwed with my taste buds," Nina said. "Being what?" Robin asked, almost knocking over her diet soda. "I'm just at about two and a half months," Nina said, swallowing her mouthful of burger. "Man! Jalapenos are...but then you grill them? Really wakes them up. Want a bite?" "I uh, no, no thanks," Robin said, dunking her chicken strip into the parmesan sauce. "I uh, I thought you said you're gay." "I am. Kind of, no, it's not really complicated. I wanted a baby, so I went out and had sex with a couple of guys," Nina shrugged. Sucking the last of her malt, Nina picked up her tray and carried it back to the counter. The cute girl gave Nina a wide, shiny smile. "Thanks; be surprise how many people just leave their tray there," the girl said. "So? Did it do the trick? Hate yourself?" "Almost," Nina smiled, feeling the crotch of her panties begin to moisten. "Maybe if I'd gotten a double patty." "Well, you know where we are," the girl smiled. "See you again." "Doubt it," Nina smiled, leaning on the counter to talk to the cute blonde. "I'm in Louisiana." "So? We're not worth driving here?" the girl teased, moving a strand of hair behind her ear. "When I got a Newhart's five minutes from my office? Not really," Nina smiled. "What part of Louisiana? My cousin? April? She's going to, to, oh, that university right there, um, decade, degrade, something like that," the girl asked, leaning closer to Nina. "DeGarde? University of Louisiana at DeGarde?" Nina guessed and the girl's pretty blue eyes opened wide. "Yes! That's it," the girl said. "Could have gone to Myndeee, but guess she wanted get out of Arkansas," the girl shrugged and again moved her long blonde hair behind her ear. "Well, my condo's like twenty, maybe thirty minutes from the U.L.D. campus," Nina smiled. "Listen, I uh, you ever get tired of working here? Give me a call; we're always looking for good workers." Nina fished out a business card and prepared to hand it to the girl. Looking at the metal glint in the girl's mouth, Nina hesitated. "I, uh, so how old are you?" Nina asked. "I'm going be nineteen to. MOR. Row!" the girl enthused. "Woo hoo!" Nina flipped the card over and wrote her cell number on the back of the card and slid it to the girl. The girl quickly grabbed the card and looked at the phone number then at the front. She smiled, despite her light blush. "I uh, okay Nina, thanks," the girl said, voice low. "Uh huh, so, uh, what's your name?" Nina asked, hoping her jeans weren't sodden with her excitement. "Brooke," Brooklyn March said, pointing to her left breast, where a nametag should have been. Nina looked at Brooke's cute breasts and shook her head. Brooke looked down at her chest then giggled. She slapped her forehead lightly. "Shit, forgot it again," Brooke admitted. "And knowing me, probably washed it. But it's Brooke. Brooklyn really, but everyone here calls me 'Metal' because of the heavy metal in my mouth." "They should call you 'Shiny' instead," Nina said. "Bye Shiny." "Bye, see you again," Brooke said, blushing hotly now. Robin drank the rest of the beers then slept as Nina drove. When Robin woke up, she desperately needed to pee. Nina pulled up to a convenience store and Robin ran in before Nina shut off the engine. Walking into the store, Nina grabbed a can of grape soda, she didn't know why, but she had a sudden hankering for grape soda, even though she could not remember the last time she'd drank a grape soda. "Good God, really? A dollar thirty two for a flipping can of soda?" Nina complained, but paid the hard faced Asian man. "You get me another quart of Gratchley's?" Robin begged, fishing out two worn dollar bills. "Yeah, yeah," Nina agreed and the Asian man rang up the beer and barked out the amount. "Don't ever lose that beautiful smile," Nina quipped and the Asian man did let a hint of a smile escape. Nina cleaned out the six cans and empty quart bottle before pulling back onto the highway. Robin drank the beer down, then looked down at her phone as it chimed. "My momma," Robin said and answered the phone. "Ah ha! Knew you hadn't lost your damned phone, bitch," Robbie crowed triumphantly. Robin cried out then ended the call. Nina shook her head; she did not know Robbie Brundette, but they were several miles away. They were safely in Louisiana, well out of reach of the Sheriff of Clarkston County, or Robbie's cop cousins or brother. Robbie had no idea where they were, had no idea how to find his wife. "In high school," Nina started talking as Robin frantically fumbled with her phone. "I had a best friend. We'd, you know, kind of practice with each other, what we'd do if we ever got a boyfriend." "What?" Robin asked, sending the next call to voice mail. "Nothing lezzie; it was always through our clothes," Nina continued as she drove. "Then in college, shit, I went crazy. There was all these cocks, all these pussies, God! I loved college! Loved fucking!" Robin turned off her phone. She drank the rest of her beer, holding her cell phone in her free hand. For a long moment, she debated whether or not to lower the car window and send the phone sailing out into the brackish waters she could see along the side of the blacktop. "Then graduated; got a Bachelor's in Business," Nina continued. "Figured, 'okay, you're a college graduate now; time to get serious, time to settle down.' Had, Jesus, I can't even remember how many guys I been with, all of them saying they love me, we're going get married, have a house and white picket fence and two point three kids and all that bullshit." Robin dropped the phone into her purse. She didn't really hear Nina as Nina drove southeast on the endless stretch of asphalt. "And of course, every time we break up? It's all my fault. I'm walking around blaming myself," Nina continued. "Then I move to Jack's Creek, God, I hope that Brooke calls. Shit! Should have got her number. Oh well, hope she calls." "She probably will," Robin encouraged. "We almost there?" "Don't you start that 'are we there yet?' shit, hear?" Nina smiled. "Are we there yet?" Robin teased. "And I'm busting my ass, I mean, really busting my ass, but it's paying off; there's light at the end of the tunnel and this really cute blonde with big boobs asks me get her a pint of gin," Nina continued. "You know, at first I'm like 'No' but I'm looking at her and I just want to you know, do her so I go ahead and get her the damned gin." Several miles of total silence stretched out. Nina gave a sigh of relief when their turn onto Norman Road loomed ahead. "Took her home, we fucked, God, it was, it was so good," Nina started again as she turned from Highway 119 onto Norman Road. "Then, next time she comes over, little bitch drank all the vodka and gin in the house and then stole forty bucks out my wallet." "That, really?" Robin asked. "It wasn't the money, or the booze; shit, it was only forty bucks," Nina said. "It was waking up and she was gone. That? That really hurt." Robin said nothing. Nina cut over onto Highway 52 and slowed considerably; Highway 52 was a notorious speed trap. "Then I met Stephanie; you ever meet someone and it's like 'BOOM!' That, that's what I felt when I looked into her eyes and oh my God! That smile. I mean, I never thought I was gay; I can't be gay, I like cock, right? But Jesus, Stephanie, Stephanie just filled my whole world. Then I saw on the news that Christine, Christine was dead and I just went crazy," Nina said and turned onto Truesdale Road. "And when I said I wanted a baby; we'd call her Christine, Stephanie just, I guess she'd had enough of my crazy and left my insane ass." Robin looked at the beautiful rustic barns, then realized the clustered barns were actually condominiums. She looked as a barn door slowly slid up, stopped, slid up and stopped, then finally slid up fully. "Damn it, keep forgetting to call someone about that," Nina said and pulled into the garage. "But that, that's why I was in Myndee. Trying get Stephanie come home." "What'd she say?" Robin asked as Nina turned off the engine. "Told me she wished I was dead," Nina shrugged heavily. "Guess, guess some cuts just can't ever heal." Nina showed Robin where one bathroom was, then bustled upstairs and dashed into her own bathroom. Sitting on the commode, Nina felt the weariness of ten hours behind the wheel, felt the 'thrum-thrum-thrum' of the asphalt still niggling and jiggling her body. Then she felt the first wave of heartburn from her toxic lunch and greasy beignets. "Like chocolate covered cherries?" Nina asked, seeing Robin wandering around the downstairs area. "I make this drink; kind of tastes like chocolate covered cherries." "You supposed to drink?" Robin asked, looking at Nina's flat belly. "One every now and then's not going hurt," Nina declared and quickly made two drinks. Robin sniffed the whiskey drink, then sipped it and nodded her approval. Nina took a sip, then sat on her couch. Robin sat down next to Nina and took another sip of her drink. Nina's purse gave a 'buzz' and Nina fished out her phone. She did not recognize the number and was about to send it to voice mail. Then she thought it might be Stephanie and answered. Hey, Nina? Hi! This is Shiny," a breathless voice caressed Nina's ear. "Shiny! Hi! I, I uh, I wasn't sure you'd..." Nina enthused. "I can't believe I'm, I mean, I hi. Y'all get home okay? Oh! You not still driving, huh?" Brooke asked. "No, no, I'm home. We're just sitting here, having a drink," Nina bubbled. "What you drinking?" Brooke asked. "I, it's this drink I made up," Nina giggled, sipping her drink. "Of course, Robin's telling me I'm not supposed be drinking, but you know, like one's really going hurt?" "Mm, that sounds sooo good," Brooke enthused when Nina gave her the recipe. Robin walked outside onto Nina's back patio, to give Nina some privacy. She took her drink with her, sipping it, savoring the sweet and harsh flavors. "So, what you doing right now?" Nina asked. "Honestly?" Brooke giggled breathlessly. "I mean, minute I get home? Got to get right out of that uniform. Stinks so bad. And yeah, I did wash my stupid nametag." "Aw, it get broken?" Nina asked. "Hmm, no, they're about impossible to destroy," Brooke said. "But anyway, got out of that stupid Newhart uniform and I'm just sitting on in my bed in just my undies." "Oh!" Nina let out a little moan, imagining the girl in bra and panties. "What you doing for your birthday tomorrow?" Nina asked, unzipping her jeans and working her fee hand down the front of her panties. "Shit! Joey's coming in; hang on!" Brooke squeaked. Nina heard fumbling. She didn't know who Joey was, but felt an unreasonable dislike of Joey. "Okay, I'm, I didn't have my door locked," Brooke giggled. "So, who's Joey?" Nina asked. "My step-brother," Brooke said, then giggled. "Bet he would have loved catching me in just my undies; I mean, you know, he's like been trying catch me for years." "So, what you doing for your birthday?" Nina asked again. "Probably nothing," Brooke admitted. "I mean, I'd be shocked as shit if my dad even remembers. Jenna, my step-mother? I mean, I'm the one working, I'm the one paying rent, Joey ain't never paid penny one, but somehow, her precious baby boy's this angel and I'm just this piece of shit." "You could do anything, what would you want to do?" Nina asked. "I don't know, I guess, I guess I'd like to you know, get a Brick's Pizza, get what I want, not what Joey wants, go to Connor Park; they got this slide? Thing's ninety feet tall and you go through all kind of curves and turns and it's just so cool, but Joey don't like it, so we don't ever, really? I mean, I think he's kind of scared of it, but..." Brooke enthused. "You working tomorrow?" Nina asked. "No. You?" Brooke asked. "This Connor Park open tomorrow?" Nina asked. "Tomorrow's Sunday; they open?" "Yeah, it's this park right around the corner; it don't never close. Well, I mean, at nine o'clock, they kind of tell people they closed, but no one ever listens to them," Brooke said. "Here, finish this," Nina said, handing Robin her drink. "I'll be back." Robin gave Nina's crotch a look and Nina squealed, then giggled and zipped her jeans. She then ran from the back patio to the garage. Robin sipped the remainder of Nina's drink, then sat, enjoying the solitude of the back patio. "Okay, tomorrow morning? You're on your own. Unless you want to go back to Myndee," Nina bubbled, returning an hour later with a few bags in her hand. "I'm going be maybe, what was it? About an hour away?" "I. Never. Ever. Want to go back to Myndee," Robin declared. "But what, why are you..." "I got a date with that Brooke girl," Nina enthused and ran up the stairs. "Shit! Hope I still got wrapping paper!" While Nina was wrapping Brooke's five pound jar candle and simple silver heart silhouette and twenty inch chain and matching silver heart silhouette dangle earrings, Ronald James was staring hatefully at the two police officers that stood in his house. He could hear Stephanie slamming open doors and drawers and marching back and forth overhead. "Well, Officer Brundette, Officer Dawson, believe me, you will be hearing from my lawyer; ever hear of Bobby Fletcher?" Ronald blustered. "Ever hear of Tammy Dawson? Used to be Tammy Fletcher before I married her?" Officer Mike Dawson smirked. "Okay," Stephanie announced, entering the living room. "I got everything I brung." "Uh, what about my phone? Huh? I paid..." Ronald demanded. "Oh yeah, here," Stephanie said, taking the phone out of her purse and putting it on the coffee table. "Officer? You can see? It's not damaged or nothing, right?" "You were a dead fuck, know that?" Ronald snarled. "Maybe you knew how to fuck, I'd come to life," Stephanie suggested and smiled when Officer Brundette laughed. "Sir? Make sure you stay away from her, stay away from her place of business," Officer Dawson suggested. "We get called out?" "That loan," Ronald called out. "Huh? What about that loan start up that salon, huh?" "I'll pay it back," Stephanie said. "Don't worry about that." Leaving Ronald's luxurious two story home, Stephanie felt like she was escaping a prison. She nodded her thanks to the two police officers. Officer Rodney Brundette sauntered over to Stephanie as she was putting some clothing into the trunk of her car. "I uh, listen, you, that guy shows up? Starts hassling you? Give me a call; cell's at the bottom," Officer Brundette said, handing Stephanie his card. "Hear? Anytime. Okay?" "Yes sir, Officer," Stephanie agreed, putting the card into her purse. "You ain't nothing but a dog," Officer Dawson congratulated his partner. "Just giving the dog a bone, just giving the dog a bone," Officer Brundette smiled as they both watched Stephanie's cute backside as she bent to rearrange some items on the back seat of her sedan. From Powell Street, Stephanie drove to the Home Comfort Inn and got a room. She smiled when the clerk informed her that there were free movies in her room. The clerk's meaning was clear; the movies were adult entertainment. In the room, Stephanie did turn on the television and scrolled through her choices. Oral, Gang Bang, Straight, even Shaved were selected before Stephanie settled on Lesbian. She left the television on, showing images of women satisfying women as she went to take a shower. A shower that did not have Ronald barging in and joining her under the needle spray. A shower where she was not trying to wash away her disgust. Nude except for towel turban around her wet hair, Stephanie sat on the bed and watched two women making love to a third woman. Stephanie slowly rubbed herself as she watched the brunette being serviced by a red head and a blonde. "Wonder what the fuck that bitch wanted?" Stephanie asked herself, thinking of Nina Crowder. A scene that showed a black girl and white girl disgusted Stephanie and she switched over to bisexual movies. Her pussy twitched as she watched two women and a man making love. The scenes that showed to men and a woman amused her; Stephanie could tell that the two men would have been just as happy had the woman left the bed. In the morning, Stephanie woke up, glad to not have the smell of Ronald's stale beer breath and intolerable gas assaulting her nostrils. She awoke to the soft murmurs of simulated passion and throbbing bass as two men thrust hard against each other while a well-endowed blonde sodomized one of the men with a large strap-on cock, not to the sounds of Ronald's grating snores. Stephanie rolled onto her back and stretched languidly. She wasn't being pinned in place by Ronald's gnarled hands. Her leg wasn't numb from lack of circulation as Ronald's pale, hairy leg pressed against her. Her new phone gave a chiming sound and Stephanie smiled wide; she'd set the alarm so she had time to wake, dress, do her make-up and eat before Kevin Dorchette, the Gold Standard Real Estate agent came to show her some listings. Idly, she applied her foundation and watched two women sharing a double-headed dildo, then watched as they took turns servicing a man with the same dildo. While Stephanie was enjoying a cinnamon raisin bun and orange juice in the motel lobby, Nina was happily complaining about how far away Brooke lived as she sped along Highway 119. Her phone gave a distinct 'buzz' that let her know she had another text message from Brooke. It was simply a repeat of the previous message; Brooke couldn't wait to see Nina, how much further did Nina have to go, again, she lived in the third trailer on the left after the water tower. "Pinewood Park?" Nina verified as she turned onto the gravel drive. "I got it!" Nina heard Brooke scream from inside the trailer. "I, hi," Brooke said, suddenly very shy. "Hi," Nina smiled, heart hammering in her chest. In her brown polyester Newhart's uniform, Brooke March had been a cute girl of five feet, one inch. Standing in pink blouse and khaki short shorts, pink canvas shoes on her feet, Brooke March was both innocent and sexy and her warm blush just added to that allure. Who's there, Brooke, who is it?" a woman's voice ordered. "It's Nina; a friend of mine, all right?" Brooke said, hard edge coming to her voice. "Well, either let her in or get out; you're letting in all kind of bugs, huh?" a bleached blonde demanded, pulling her tee shirt down over large breasts. "Bye," Brooke said and stepped out of the trailer. "Hi," Nina said again, grabbing Brooke's hand. "Come on; I haven't even had breakfast yet. Where you want to go?" "We go to Twisters? They're these doughnuts? They're kind of..." Brooke asked, getting into Nina's car. "It's your birthday; we can go anywhere you want," Nina said. Brooke gave Nina directions to the small shop nestled among other shops. Nina smiled when Brooke happily took Nina's hand as they waited in line to place their order. "Two chocolate and a chocolate milk," Brooke told the girl behind the counter. "One vanilla and one chocolate, large coffee with two cream," Nina said, sliding a twenty dollar bill across the counter. As they waited, they watched the worker making the doughnuts, dredging the hot doughnuts through either the vanilla vat or the chocolate vat. Nina couldn't help but smile at Brooke's enthusiasm. "When they're hot like this? Ohmygod, I mean, they're the best!" Brooke declared, quickly eating her hot treat. "Is that, so that's where Gratchley's comes from," Nina said, looking at the brewery located across Switchback Road. "My dad drinks that stuff all the time," Brooke said. "Hell, Honey, we all do," an older man smiled at the two attractive women, revealing tobacco stained teeth. "Just never knew where it came from," Nina politely said. "Comes from right here, Gratchley, in the great state of Arkansas," the man said, then turned to help his son with his carton of milk. "So, ready to go to Connor Park?" Nina asked as they left the small shop. "Yeah!" Brooke agreed. Nina thought it was a rip-off, but paid a young man four

dollars, two dollars apiece for cardboard sheets. Then, watching Brooke's cute buttocks peeking out of Brooke's very short shorts as Brooke led the way up the stairs of the tall slide, Nina shrugged. She'd pay four dollars all day every day to have a view of Brooke's sweet backside. Finally at the top, Nina took one lane and Brooke took the lane next to her. Their first kiss was right before they shoved off, sitting on their cardboard sheets. "Oh! My! God!" Nina squealed and laughed as they whizzed down the long, twisting metal slide. "Aieegh!" she screamed as she entered a long, dark tube. "I mean, isn't that the best?" Brooke squealed when they came to a skidding stop on the soft foam rubber bumpers at the bottom. "You ever do it face first?" Nina enthused as they scampered up the stairs again. "No! You going do that?" Brooke gasped, blue eyes dancing. Nina gave Brooke a quick kiss, then flopped onto her belly. "Augh! Aieegh!" Nina screamed and laughed all the way down. "I wanted to, but I was too chicken," Brooke admitted as she came to a stop a moment later. "No, no, you got to do it!" Nina ordered, laughing. "Lady, you brave," one little girl complimented as she stood, looking up at Nina. "You going do it?" Nina asked the little girl. "Christine! God damn it! How many times I told you don't be talking to strangers?" a harried looking young mother cried out, running up and snatching the small girl away. "What's wrong?" Brooke asked, seeing the tears in Nina's eyes. "Cristine," Nina choked out, then turned and walked to the swings. They sat, side by side on two swings. Brooke listened as Nina described her very brief love affair with a blonde drunk named Christine. Brooke reached a small hand up and gently touched Nina's face. "You not over losing her, are you?" Brooke softly asked. "Brooke, I, I don't think you ever get over losing someone like that," Nina admitted. "I mean, shit, she didn't have to die. She just didn't have to..." Brooke leaned forward and gently pulled Nina's face closer. She softly kissed Nina's lips. With a soft smile, she kissed Nina again. "You, I uh, I mean, I never, I ain't never," Brooke whispered, searching Nina's eyes. "But you just want to, don't you?" Nina smiled. "Ohmygod yes," Brooke whispered. "Come on; we're doing that again," Nina said, picking up her cardboard sheet. The two did ride the slide three more times. The last time down, Brooke allowed herself to be talked into belly down, face first. She screamed and laughed the entire way down. "Nina Crowder, you got to be the coolest girl I ever met!" Brooke squealed when she came to rest. The young man did not offer any refund when Brooke and Nina carried their cardboard sheets to him. So Nina kept one sheet and carried it to the trunk of her car. She drew a large heart and put her name, then had Brooke sign her own name, then wrote the date. Then she put the sheet into the trunk of her car. "It, it's our first date," Nina said, slamming the trunk shut. "O! That, that's so sweet!" Brooke said, eyes becoming shiny. "So, where's this pizza place?" Nina asked, unlocking the passenger door. "Remember where Twisters is? Brick's is right next to it," Brooke said, getting into the passenger seat. While Nina and Brooke were waiting for their large Supreme, add jalapenos, Kevin Dorchette sullenly pulled away from Castlerook Condominiums. Next to him, Stephanie looked at her phone. "Mr. Dorchette, I told you, fifty to seventy thousand," Stephanie quietly, firmly stated. "That was what? Eighty nine?" Inside, Stephanie was anything but quiet and calm. She felt like she was on the verge of tears. Yet another man was trying to push and bully and intimidate her. Yet another man was trying to take advantage of her, was ignoring what she wanted. "This is my money. This is my money. I have a right to get what I want," Stephanie kept repeating to herself as Kevin turned toward the next home on his list. "This next one, on Hastings?" Kevin said, putting on what he knew was a seductive smile. "You know where two sixteen Conway Road is?" Stephanie asked, seeing a listing for a three bedroom, two bathroom home at 216 Conway Road. "I uh, yes, yes I do, but, Ms. Cimo, Conway Road? That uh, that neighborhood is kind of..." Kevin tried to lie. Lori Knowles was the listing agent for 216 Conway Road. Just like Unit 105 at the Castlerook Condominiums, Kevin was the listing agent of 1412 Hastings Creek. If he could sell one of his listings, he would get double commission. And the last time Kevin had seen 216 Conway Road, the home was going for sixty two thousand. Standard commission on sixty two thousand would hardly be worth his while. The suit he was wearing cost more than the commission on that sale. "Mr. Dorchette, I really would like to look at it," Stephanie stated. "If you won't show it to me, I'll just contact, um, Lori Knowles and have her show it to me." "But fourteen twelve Hastings..." Kevin argued. "Is seventy nine, know what? Take me back to the motel," Stephanie ordered. "Okay, okay, we'll go take a look at it," Kevin grumbled. "Standard commission was better than no commission. Keven drove to the home. "Now, what's wrong with this neighborhood?" Stephanie demanded, looking at the homes around them. True, many of the homes were older structures. Some looked quite weathered. But none of the houses had cars in the front yards, cars sitting on cinder blocks. Stepping out of Kevin's Mercedes-Benz, Stephanie did not hear loud rap music booming. Instead, she heard two lawnmowers whining and whirring. She heard someone playing a violin somewhere. Playing it badly, but it was a violin, not an electric guitar or electric bass or a set of drums. The house itself had recently been painted a striking goldenrod yellow with dark brown trim. The garage door had been painted beige and the front door was a rustic red. As Kevin sullenly entered his number into the digital lock box, the violin stopped. Kevin removed the key from the lock box and unlocked the front door. The interior still had that fresh paint smell, but it wasn't overwhelming. Stephanie liked the soft eggshell color and the honey colored woodwork as well as the pale blue short pile carpeting. "Knock knock," a woman's voice called out as Kevin and Stephanie entered the kitchen. "Hello?" Stephanie asked, peering into the living room. A striking strawberry blonde woman entered, wearing a short robe over a bright red, white and blue bikini. The bikini top was struggling to contain two round globes and the bikini bottom was just a scrap of patriotic colors barely dangling around the woman's round hips. In the woman's arms was a small girl with strawberry blonde hair, dressed in a short dress. Behind the blonde woman and girl was a tall, handsome man with short brown hair and hazel eyes. The man was dressed in swim trunks and wore no shirt. "Hi, we're the Jensens; we live at," the strawberry blonde woman smiled, then squealed. "Oh my God! Who does your hair?" "Hi, Jack Jensen," Jack said to Kevin, then mock-squealed. "Oh my God! What did you think of the NFL Draft? What about those Blue Jays baseball team? And who does your nails?" "Oh, shut up," Nadine laughed at her husband. "Hi, like I said, we live right next door. I'm Nadine, this is my husband Jack, and this beautiful little violin player is Jadine." "That was you I was hearing? You're very good," Stephanie lied. "But seriously, who does your hair?" Nadine asked, even reaching out her free hand and combing her fingers through Stephanie's hair. "I uh, I do," Stephanie stammered, oddly titillated by Nadine's intimate touch. "B But, where do you get yours done?" "I don't," Nadine screwed up her face in displeasure. "I haven't found anywhere I like ever since moving here from DeGarde." "you. Are. Kidding. Me!" Stephanie squealed. "I worked at T. Dayton! In Bender?" "Get out of here, you did not! When? I never seen you there," Nadine squealed, putting Jadine down. "Last, oh God, I moved here four months ago, opened up my own place,," Stephanie said, digging out a business card. "Salon...right next to Zydeco's?" Nadine squealed. "Come on, buddy," Jack said, guiding Kevin toward the kitchen. "We'll be deaf we hang around them much longer. "What?" Kevin said and the two men chuckled. "The owner just had this place painted; you ever hear of Pearl Painters? Owner lives right up the street; that really cute pink house," Nadine said, guiding Stephanie toward the hall bathroom. "And in here? I keep teling Jack I want one of these; he put in a Jacuzzi tub." "Swimming pool and hot tub right there in the back yard," Jack called out. "We don't need a whirlpool tub." The light blue paint and the gleaming white sink, commode and tub were accented by the pale blue ceramic tiled floor. "Miss Stefnee, you got any kids?" Jadine asked. "Oh, I'm sorry sweetheart, no I don't," Stephanie smiled down at the four year old girl. "Want to steal her?" Nadine joked. "Fee to take her," Jack said as the three females came out of the bathroom. "Five thousand for us to take her back." "Daddy, that's not very nice," Nadine smiled and took Stephanie's hand to guide her to the kitchen. "And in here? "All new appliances; oh my God, should have seen the ugly avocado green stuff he had in here before. Can you say 'Seventies?'" Nadine sold the house; Kevin just stood and let the beautiful woman take Stephanie from room to room, pointing out the upgrades and features. "And we live right next door to you," Nadine pointed again toward their home. And as you heard, we have a swimming pool." Nadine leaned close to Stephanie after verifying that Jadine was chattering to Mr. Kevin about violins and horsies. Nadine put an arm around Stephanie's waist. "It's clothing optional; we have an eight foot privacy fence around the yard," Nadine whispered into Stephanie's ear. "I uh, I..." Stephanie stammered, wondering if the crotch of her shorts showed her interest in the 'clothing optional' features of the Jensen pool. "Okay, they're asking sixty two?" Stephanie asked Kevin after looking at the large walk-in shower in the master bathroom. "Yes; originally listed for..." Kevin said. "Offer them sixty two," Stephanie ordered. "I can put down twenty percent right now." (As Stephanie was tapping out the transfer on her phone, Ronald James was discovering that his fuck toy had changed the password on her bank account, preventing him from taking her money. The password had been R -- S and his eight digit birthday. He tried several different possibilities, never imagining F for Fuck, Y for You R for Ronald, N for Nina, I for I'm and F for Free and yesterday's date.) "Okay, we can meet tomorrow at Fletcher, Jensen, neidelon and Associates," Kevin verified. "Ja..." "I have an availability at nine. That'll work?" Jack smiled. "That will most definitely work," Stephanie laughed happily. "Yay!" Nadine cheered and pressed her large breasts and sleek belly against Stephanie as they embraced. "See you around, neighbor." "Yes, see you, neighbor," Stephanie agreed happily. As Stephanie was watching Nadine's perfect buttocks jiggle as the neighbors walked away, both father and mother holding onto Jadine's hands, Nina and Brooke were parked behind the baseball bleachers at Connor Park, steaming up the windows of Nina's car. "Ohmygod, I mean," Brooke panted as Nina's hot mouth sucked at Brooke's half- dollar sized pale pink nipple. Nina silenced Brooke's words with a passionate kiss. While Brooke was sucking on Nina's pizza flavored tongue, Nina was unzipping Brooke's shorts. "Ohmygod, ohmygod, Nina!" Brooke squealed as Nina's fingers thrust into Brooke's sloppy pussy. Nina tossed Brooke's shorts into the front seat, then trailed kisses down from Brooke's 30B breasts, over Brooke's soft belly to Brooke's sparse thatch of light blonde hairs. Nina knelt on the seat and spread Brooke's thighs apart. "Mm oh augh, ohmygod!" Brooke screamed in orgasm as Nina's mouth and fingers pleasured Brooke's wet pussy. Nina's other hand was down the front of her shorts and panties, frantically rubbing her own pussy. Brooke had a very pleasant taste of musk and sweat and salt. Brooke's orgasm intensified the musky sweetness of the blonde's pussy. Nina licked and fingered Brooke to four screaming, thrashing orgasms before wiggling up to lie on top of the grunting, moaning girl. "Oh Nina!" Brooke finally groaned. "Oh, I mean, ohmygod, oh, I, I love you." "Love you too," Nina whispered and kissed Brooke softly. "I, oh, okay, I'm, I'm going, I've never, I mean, shit! I never even thought of, I mean, how'd you know you gay?" Brooke babbled. "Christine," Nina admitted and kissed Brooke again. "But Brooke, don't, you don't have..." "Oh no, no ma'am!" Brooke demanded, pouting. "Think you going to...and I don't get to?" Brooke wiggled and Nina wiggled until Brooke was lying on top of Nina. The two women kissed again, then Brooke wiggled down and took one of Nina's hard nipples into her mouth. She bit down lightly and sucked forcefully at the nub. Then she pulled her mouth off of the nipple with a loud 'pop.' "Oh! My braces! I mean, I gave Jeff a blow job and he said I ripped a whole bunch of hair," Brooke worried. Nina smiled and wiggled her shorts and panties down to mid-thigh. She pointed down and Brooke squealed when she saw Nina's bald mound. Brooke wiggled forward and happily kissed Nina. Brooke's crotch mashed against Nina's crotch and Nina moaned into Brooke's mouth. "I got to..." Brooke enthused and wiggled to kneel between Nina's legs. Brooke pulled Nina's shorts and panties off and dropped them onto the floor of the car. "Mm, oh, oh Brooke, oh!" Nina cooed happily as Brooke's lips, tongue and fingers attacked Nina's wet pussy. "We do sixty nine?" Brooke asked after Nina squealed in orgasm. "Not. Not in. The back. Seat of a car," Nina gasped out. She sat up and pulled Brooke to sit next to her. They again kissed, embracing each other tightly. "Oh Sweetheart, oh, I wish, I hope one day we'll have a big old bed, and all the time in the world," Nina whispered, looking deeply into Brooke's beautiful eyes. "We will, why won't we?" Brooke enthused. "Because, good God, you live all the way up in..." Nina gently explained. "How 'bout I come see you?" Brooke asked, squeezing Nina in a tight embrace. "Sweetheart, you got a car?" Nina asked. "I uh, no," Brooke admitted. "Bus from here to Jack's Creek? Take you forever," Nina smiled, wiggling into her blouse. "I, I'll figure out something," Brooke promised, looking around for her own clothes. "I know you will," Nina agreed, wiggling between the two front seats. Nina tossed Brooke Brooke's clothes and started the car. She adjusted the 'defrost' and hoped the windows would clear soon. "I will," Brooke promised, wiggling into the front seat. "I know," Nina said, twisting around and locating the bag behind her seat. "I know you will. And, hopefully? We'll get to use a bed; I'm not crazy about fucking in cars." "That, don't say that. God! That is such an ugly word," Brooke snapped. "What?" Nina asked, reaching into the plastic bag. "Fucking, God, I, I just hate the way that sounds," Brooke snapped. "Making love," Nina said softly and kissed Brooke. "I'm not a fan of making love in cars." "That, that's better," Brooke agreed. "Anyway, happy birthday, Shiny," Nina smiled, handing Brooke the heavy jar candle. "Oh! You, you didn't have get me nothing!" Brooke squealed, accepting the heavy package. "Hey, it's your birthday," Nina smiled. "Go ahead, open it." Brooke loved the chocolate brownie scented candle but was confused about the three wicks. Nina fought against laughing when Brooke asked if she was supposed to burn one, then when that one burned out, light the next one? "The silver heart pendant earned Nina a deep kiss and a promise that Brooke would never, ever take it off. The dangling heart earrings were put in immediately and Brooke flipped down the visor and looked into the mirror. "Okay. I got five hours ahead of me; I got work tomorrow," Nina reluctantly said, putting the car into reverse. In front of Brooke's trailer, the two kissed passionately before Brooke reluctantly got out of the car. Nina saw a single tear begin to slide down the nineteen year old girl's cheek as the girl scampered up the steps to the front door of the double wide trailer. "Oh, no, oh Sweetheart, don't cry," Nina begged, feeling her own tears begin. Robin smiled when Nina came into the kitchen, commenting on how good dinner smelled. Then, over chicken alfredo, Robin listened as Nina gave a clean version of the day's events. "You take the Gratchley's Beer tour?" Robin asked when Nina said she'd seen the brewery. "Oh good God no!" Nina said. "Was getting sick just looking at the nasty place." "Shut up! I like Gratchley's," Robin laughed. "So, this Brooke girl; you going see her again?" "I, God, I, I really like her," Nina admitted. "But, shit! She's, she's only nineteen. And she lives all the way up in Arkansas." "Nina, nineteen? That's old enough; you, you're only twenty seven," Robin said. "Not like you two are a hundred years apart. And, so you take long weekends to go see her." Robin put a gentle hand on Nina's shoulder before taking Nina's empty plate. Robin opened the dishwasher and stacked the plates. "It's meant to be? It'll be," Robin said. "And you need to put the glasses up top." Nina's purse gave out a 'buzz' and Nina hurriedly grabbed her cell phone. Robin smiled as her roommate squealed and laughed just like a nineteen year old girl as she talked with a squealing, laughing nineteen year old girl. "and when Jenna asked me where the candle come from," Brooke enthused. "When I said it was for my birthday, they all just about died, trying to act like they all knew it was my birthday and they'd just been waiting on me get home." "I miss you," Nina interrupted Brooke's monologue. "I miss you too," Brooke whispered into the phone. "But I got your heart right here." "You sure do," Nina giggled lightly. "Yeah, you sure do got my heart." "Aw!" Brooke sighed, then continued to tell Nina about Jenna running out to buy a cake and a card. 'When, when can I see you again?" Nina begged. "I, let's see. Aw! My next day off ain't 'til Thursday," Brooke whined. "Thought you said there was a Newhart's right by your office," Robin suggested when Nina complained about how long she'd have to wait to see her crush. "Ah! Bet, bet she could get transferred here!" Nina squealed and grabbed her cell phone out of her purse again. "You know, even when I was in love with him," Robin said to herself as she thought of her husband. "I don't remember ever acting like that." Stephanie did not know, nor did she care how Jack Jensen managed to do it, but there was a representative from the First National Bank of Arkansas present in his office when she, Keven Dorchette and Lori Knowles showed up for the paperwork. Before ten o'clock, Stephanie was the proud owner of 216 Conway Road and Nadine was there to show Stephanie the best places to find furniture. "Hi, neighbor," Nadine gushed as she hugged Stephanie. "Hi, neighbor," Stephanie agreed, returning the hug. "Roselawn's is nice; they're a little proud of their selection," Nadine prattled, pulling Stephanie by her hand to her 1964 Alfa-Romeo. "And O'Neil's? Featured in better trailer parks and garbage, if you ask me. Last time I saw that much chrome? I was in Detroit." "By the way, I'm bisexual; does that bother you?" Nadine asked as she started her car. "I uh, no, I, I'm bisexual too," Stephanie admitted, putting her hand on Nadine's thigh. "Hell low neighbor!" Nadine whooped and the two women giggled. As Nadine and Stephanie were selecting the 'perfect' breakfast table and chairs from an Unfinished Furniture Outlet, Nina was finding it nearly impossible to focus at work. She managed, barely, to give the report for her division and give a coherent projection for the next quarter. Now, she was trying to interview a job hoeful to fill one of the five vacancies in her department, but was unable to follow the young man's answers. "Okay, not all of the people we contact are losers or deadbeats," Nina interrupted his nasal answer. "Divorce, medical bills, loss of a job, whatever. Somehow they get behind on their bills. Tell me the difference between empathy and sympathy." "Thank you for coming in," Nina interrupted him again. "Sir? I, you're just not cut out for this kind of work." "Hi, Nina," Tom said cheerfully, sticking his head into Nina's office. "Hi Tom," Nina tried to match his enthusiasm, but couldn't. "Anything I can do to help?" Tom asked, closing the door of the office. "Let me work remotely from Gratchley, Arkansas," Nina wanted to say. "I, I just, I don't know what to do," Nina confessed. "Kimberly gets like that. One minute she's happy and singing and just giggling to herself about nothing at all, then the next minute I'm the Devil Incarnate and she's so ugly and how could I do this to her," Tom commiserated. "Nina, you need a couple days off? Some, let's call it'recharge your batteries' time?" They both heard Nina's cell phone buzz. Tom gave a little shrug and Nina checked the text message. 'I miss you' followed by several red heart emoji's was on the screen of Nina's cell phone. "Yeah, I need maybe one or two days off," Nina said, getting to her feet as she texted 'Coming to get you' to Brooke. As Brooke hurriedly packed her worldly possessions into garbage bags, while Nina's Charger chewed up the miles between Jack's Creek and Gratchley, Jack stepped into his living room to see Stephanie's perfect ass perched at the end of his leather couch. He could see Nadine's sculpted right leg on the floor and Nadine's left leg on the back of the couch. He could hear Stephanie's frenzied grunts and slurps and Nadiene's heavy panting as Stephanie's mouth brought Nadine closer and closer to orgasm. Jack stripped out of his clothes and slid his seven and a half inches of thick meat into Stephanie's very wet, very snug pussy. Stephanie's squeal of orgasm was muffled as Nadine's hand pressed Stephanie's head firmly against Nadine's thatch of pink pubic hair. "Oh no, this, this is not a safe time for me," Stephanie thought to herself before another orgasm pummeled through her insides. *.*.* Robin sat at the breakfast table, counting last night's tips. She'd tried getting regular gainful employment; even working at the Newhart's Restaurant that was five minutes away from Nina's office. When she got her first paycheck, payment for the forty three hours she'd worked during the two weeks of staggered shifts that never seemed to leave her any time to do anything, Robin decided to go back to dancing. The Desire Factory was close to Nina's condominium. Robin was also a client of Tom Thibodeaux and was already building up a pretty nice nest egg. As she told Brooke, her titties and her ass wouldn't work for her forever. She might as well get while the getting's good. "Nina, I can be a dancer?" Brooke asked, running her tongue over her straight white teeth. "Yeah, sure. Brooke, you won't even get in the hot tub naked even with a privacy fence all the way around. You really think you could dance naked in front of a bunch of strangers?" Nina smiled, arm cradling her five month paunch. "Oh, shut up," Brooke giggled and placed a loving hand on Nina's belly. Brooke swore, when she put her head on Nina's baby bump, she could hear Christine Stephanie's heart beating. Nina believed that Brooke wanted to believe that she could hear their daughter's heartbeat so just smiled and combed her fingers through Brooke's long blonde hair. "Oh, and thought you said you was getting that garage door fixed," Robin said, counting out four hundred dollars from her stack of money. "Swear, thing took like an hour going up this morning and I bet it's still not all the way down yet. Okay, here's this month's rent. Four hundred." "I'll call someone tomorrow," Nina promised, then moaned as Brooke's hand dipped over Nina's swelling belly and into Nina's panties. THE END Part of the inspiration for this story is the character of Nina Crowder. I introduced her in the 'Tequila' series and thought she was an interesting character. I'd intended to make her the main character in '2 Alliance Square' but somehow Ashley Dunn and Tiffany Powell stepped to the forefront of that tale. Another part of the inspiration was the character of Stephanie Cimo. In '1 Alliance Square' she was a submissive and weak-willed girl that allowed her boyfriend to repeatedly use her. Sometimes people simply cannot break that pattern, and sometimes, a moment can provide the catalyst that enables the person to break free. Stephanie had two such events. One, when Glen went from emotional abuse to physical abuse. She found the strength to move to Louisiana and begin again. Nina's desire to have a baby did cause a bit of a relapse, driving Stephanie into Ronald James's spider web. Stephanie's second catalyst came when she somehow found the strength to tell Nina to leave, to leave her alone. The character of Christine Gernaud is based on a friend of mine. After years of emotional and physical abuse, my friend constantly sought out men and women that would perpetuate the cycle of abuse begun by her father, therefore giving her the reason or excuse she needed to justify her drinking. She died of alcohol poisoning. **Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment. I thank you sincerely for reading my stories. I especially thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad. I also thank those that take the time to rate my words, those that 'Favorite' my work. Christine Gernaud is a minor character mentioned in '18 With The Wind Chill' In the Incest/taboo category.' The circumstances that placed her into the foster care system are more fully explained in 'Cold' in the Transgender & Crossdressers category. Nina Crowder is first mentioned in the 'Tequila' series. Her character is also a minor character in 2 Alliance Square' in the Lesbian Sex category. Tom Thibodeaux is the main character in 'Kneel' in the Mature category. Brad Prescott and Ashley Dunn are characters introduced in '2 Alliance Square' in the Lesbian Sex category. Stephanie Cimo is a character introduced in '1 Alliance Square' in the Group Sex category. Her boyfriend, Glen James is likewise introduced in '1 Alliance Square.' T. Dayton Hair Salon is first introduced in the 'Explanation Of Love' series in Lesbian Sex category. The salon is also featured prominently in the 'Wealth' series as well as other stories. The T. Dayton client, Margaret Schaub is introduced in the 'Oddball' series in the First Time category. Her granddaughter Maggie is introduced in the 'Wealth' series. Daphne Baggett and her daughter, TeddiAnn Baggett are introduced in the 'The Broussard Sisters' series in the Group Sex category. Sophia Campion, the deaf girl and TeddiAnn's best friend in the whole wide world is introduced in the 'Ice Heart' series in Loving Wives category. Their meeting and friendship begins in 'The Broussard Sisters,' Part 11. Sophia Campion has lost both mother and father and is being raised by her big sister, Nicole Dumas and Nicole's husband, Fred Dumas. Sophia has no idea that she is dirt poor and that TeddiAnn is beyond wealthy. Sophia has no idea how much a haircut at T. Dayton Hair Salon costs. She's TeddiAnn's best friend and TeddiAnn's parents are more than happy to pay for Sophia to join their daughter wherever TeddiAnn goes. Harrison Smith appears in the 'Knowing Your Strength'series in the Nonhuman category. He also appears in 'It's Hard To Find A Good Plumber' in Loving Wives. Freddie Loomis appears in 'Week Of The Big Five-Oh' in the Mature category. Greg Knowles is the main character in 'If He Ever Told Her No' in Loving Wives. Austin Orr is a minor character in 'Well-Worn Path' in the Group Sex category. Tommy's Po-Boys is introduced in 'Acquisition' in the Loving Wives category. Side By Side Steaks is introduced in the 'Wealth' series. Dr. Ellen Sweetman, Nina's Ob/Gyn is a minor character in 'Tuff As Nails' in the Loving Wives category. Michael Trahan, the head of the Financial Planning division in Thibodeaux Investments is a minor character from the 'Explanation Of Love' series in Lesbian Sex category. Reynold Reynolds is a character first introduced in 'Mending Broken Flowers' in the Loving Wives category. He has appeared in a few other stories, most recently in 'Let Myself Believe' in the Loving Wives category. Theresa Meyers, Stephanie Cimo's receptionist/cashier is a minor character introduced in the 'Bit Of A Bitch' series in the Incest/Taboo category. Zydeco Coffee is first introduced in 'Zydeco Coffee' in the Transgender & Crossdressers category. Robin Simon, now Robin Brundette and her husband, Robbie Brundette are minor characters in the 'Bit Of A Bitch' series in Incest/Taboo. Connie Trussaud, Stephanie's client is a minor character from 'Ozark Weekend' in the Incest/Taboo category. Kevin Dorchette, Stephanie's Gold Standard Real Estate agent is also a minor character from 'Ozark Weekend' in Incest/Taboo. Robin March, cousin to Brooklyn March is a character in the 'Bit Of A Bitch' series in Incest/Taboo. The Desire Factory, the gentlemens' club that Robin dances at is first introduced in 'Buy Y'all Some Wine?' in the Anal category. Have a swell day. And some of you, have a swollen day.

I felt the blood surge hotly in my face. I panted heavily. "Push it harder. Don't stop." My brother Harry did a deep chest grunt and pushed, sweat beading over his face. "Something is going to rip if I go harder. We need some lubricant or..." Without a rip, or even a popping sound, the sofa edged the half a centimeter it needed to slide smoothly around the dogleg into the room. I did a quick two step not to stumble. We re-hefted the great green monster and got it inside. "Against the far wall for now. I can shift it if I need to." "You're gonna have to, bro, because I'm never lifting this thing again. I'm sure not going to help get it out of here when you move again." We collapsed on our subdued enemy, stretching our legs out. Harry, ever the classy guy, pulled the hem of his t-shirt up to wipe his face. Seemed a good idea, actually, so I did it too. Then we sat back. It was a really nice couch. One of the few long enough that let me stretch right out. A blazing beam of sunlight spotlighted on the carpet. A person couldn't even tell from this view that winter still gripped the world. "Yeah, I thought you were nuts for using the official master bedroom as a living room, but it could work." I nodded, smiling. "I almost passed on having a two bedroom unit all to myself, but then I realized if I'm going to set up a proper work space studio, the extra room will be great." "And the second bedroom is the bedroom?" "Once I measured to see if it fit a king size bed, the vision fell into place. The 'living room' has the biggest windows and the best light and view. Why work in a rabbit hole? That's the room for sleeping." Harry smirked crookedly. "A king size bed? What the hell does a bachelor need with that kind of elbow room? Planning on having orgies?" I hid my expression by standing up and giving my face another wipe with my shirt. I couldn't let Harry see the goofy grin exploding on my face. From what I had experienced here in Avalon Apartments three weeks ago, that king size could likely be the hardest used piece of furniture in the place. "HARRrrrY! I'm hungry!" The mostly empty apartment made the unpleasant whine even more annoying with an echo. The voice certainly slapped the grin off my face. Adults just shouldn't whine like that. Harry climbed to his feet. "Coming Tiffany!" I followed him out of the "hospitality room". "That was the last load, Zach. Just a couple of boxes left. Here's the plan: we go down. You bring up the boxes and, since I have to move the truck from the loading zone anyway, I'll keep on going to get some grub." "Let me get my wallet. It's on me." "Damn straight it's on you. Sleeping, storage fees and labour costs ain't cheap." Tiffany Trubela leaned-sprawled on the kitchen counter with her elbows and stomach, her butt sticking out and her legs akimbo on the floor. Only her fingers dancing furiously over her pink phone keypad gave away that she was awake. Still, even in such a slack-jawed idiot pose, she artfully kept her scoop-necked cleavage on glorious display and her skintight jeans accentuated those long legs and ass to perfection. Her meticulously styled blonde hair draped down her back. However, even the exquisite makeup job around the huge sapphire blue eyes and magnificent cheekbones couldn't hide the bovine dull expression of the hardcore texter. "Tiff, I'm off to get some food." Harry leaned in to give his girlfriend a peck on the cheek. The blonde woman grunted, pulling away, focusing on her messages. "Baby, you were going to unpack the kitchen." Of the three boxes labeled "Kitchen", one had been opened. A drawer hung open, empty. Not a great effort. Tiffany frowned, without turning away from the miniature screen. "Kim is stressing out over picking shoes for a very important party. She needs my advice more than Zach needs his forks and spoon sorted." "Kim who?" "Kardashian, of course!" "KIm Kardashian asked you, personally, for advice?" I always tried to keep to the weather and peoples' health when talking to Tiffany, but kept failing in the face of absurdity. Any actual conversation almost always ended badly. Blood pressure spikes are not healthy. "She accepted me to her Flutterbook Gold Circle. When she sends out a cry for help, her special followers just have to pitch in." "All 50,000 of you. It's a tight group." "At least it's in the real, grownup world. Why don't you go unpack your toy spaceships?" Tiffany pulled back the small amount of attention she had granted us and went back to the phone. Harry gripped my arm and pulled. I sighed and let myself be led out of the apartment. Harry shrugged into his parka as the elevator descended the three floors. "So, that's everything you had stashed in my garage. How many other Zach McAllister Stash Spots are there to clean out?" I had no problem with a change in subject. "You had the biggest pile, thanks again. Clint and Tai Ping have about half-a-dozen bags stuffed with clothes and bedding and towels. Rudy has my big screen, so that'll be easy to move, but a bugger to extract from where he's set it up in his living room. The rest is still two provinces away in a pay storage unit." I blew out my cheeks. "Moving cross country sucks." "Well, in my experience, finding a place to live is the hardest part. The rest is just muscle and buying pizza. Oh, crap." Harry raised his arms in frustration, beseeching the sky gods. "We can't buy pizza." "Why the hell not? Pizza is the traditional food when moving. It may even be a law." "Because Tiff doesn't eat wheat products during months with an 'R' or some shit." Harry looked miserable, trapped between reality and a red hot girlfriend. Again. "How about Greek? There's a place on 18th Ave called 'The 12 Platters of Hercules' that's pretty tasty..." Harry perked up. "I know the joint. It is good. There'll be something there she'll like." "That would be the Harpy Special. I'll take a Centaur Platter." "Ha. Ha. Ha." Harry smiled with one side of his mouth. "That is actually funny, but that's my girl you're...HOLY SHIT!" I whirled around, expecting a bus to be coming through the main doors and into the lobby. Instead, a cab driver wheeled-dragged a large suitcase over the snow ridged sidewalk while Marita held the outer door for him. My glands snapped off a tap dance and hand flip. Harry wasn't admiring the puffing cabbie or the quality luggage. We McAllister brothers admired the mane of midnight copper hair framing the heart-shaped face and flawless caramel skin. The full lips and merry smile. The enormous green eyes. The deep green plaid winter coat went to her knees, giving only a tantalizing hint at the curves beneath. Harry could only guess at those curves. I knew those curves intimately. I fought down another village idiot grin. Attempt to be cool, Zach. I did spring forward to open the inner door before Marita had to fumble for her keys. "Oh, thank you. It's good to be home!" Marita gave her boots a last stamp to clear snow. "I think." She fluffed her hair out while undoing a few coat buttons. She smiled politely. "Do you live in the building?" The sexual pixie dust supporting me vanished in a flash of reality. "Um, yes. Just moving in." Harry gave me a prod. "This is my brother Harry. I'm..." "Jack? No, something with a zed. Zach! Yeah, Zach." Marita grinned in triumph, as she held out her hand to shake. "I'm Marita. You were apartment hunting about, what, three weeks ago? The old memory hasn't failed after all!" I returned the polite handshake, keeping a brave face. I hoped. "The first of the month finally came and I don't have to sleep on this lunkhead's couch no more." "Lunkhead? Hey..." Harry frowned as he shook Marita's hand. "Well, it's nice to meet you again and you, Harry. Probably see you at the mailboxes or something." Marita strode off across the small lobby to the elevator, suitcase in tow. "Yeah, I guess." I spiraled down for a crash landing, shot out of my dreams by hard truths. For the second time, Harry pulled me along. We exited out the doors into the arctic afternoon, the sun easing towards setting. "You're the lunkhead if you think you have a chance with her. Wow, she's gawdamn dynamite on two legs. She's so far out of your league, it'd be like a tiddlywinks player in a pro hockey game." Harry reached over the truck box and pulled out the last two boxes, thrusting them into my arms. I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to tell my smug little brother that I had not only played in Marita's league, but had that an MVP award for my effort. Well, or so I thought. Apparently not so much. As dismal as Marita's platonic courtesies made me feel, I wasn't going to become a strutting, bragging thug for Harry. The road of a gentleman is not easy. The boxes made themselves a nuisance getting back inside, but they weren't so heavy I couldn't manage. I stumped up to the elevator and pushed the button. The door slid open and I turned sideways to watch my step and to let the handrail inside support some of their weight. Marita's voice came from behind me. "What floor was that again?" "Uh...3." I twisted my head to see her smirk. "What,...why." I gave my stunned brain a kick. "You're just riding the elevator for fun?" I hoisted the boxes for a better grip. Between Marita, me, two boxes and her luggage, the tiny elevator didn't leave much maneuvering room. I worked the physics of turning around to face her. A warm breath and wet tongue traced my right ear. "No silly. I waited to give you a proper hello." The startled squeak of I made did not sound manly nor even dignified. I did feel myself pull out of that spiraling dive into gloom. As I juggled the boxes I had nearly dropped, I could only blather "What? Really?" Marita's honey-toned chuckle alone could give a guy wood. "You get a gold star, newbie neighbour. It's a crazy judgement call in this building when to be polite and when to be a slobbering sex fiend. In my book, you played the very correct amount of smooth and cool down there in the lobby." She gave my earlobe a fresh tongue-thrashing and nibble while she reached around to treat my groin to a full palm massage. The third floor dinged and the elevator stopped WAY too soon. I lurched out of the elevator, totally wobbling on my pins. I gave her a huge grin. "See you." Marita gave a little wave and a saucy smile as the doors closed. "I better be invited to the housewarming." I bumped and thumped my way into my apartment, walking again on a sparkling fog of sexual possibility. I put the boxes down and stood staring off in a hot daydream of that housewarming party. "Ah, has Tiffy's boobies given poor Zachie-whackie a stiffie?" Tiffany cackled. I spanged back to reality. I had honestly forgot all about her while drifting in my Happy Place. If texters want to ignore everyone around them, I tend to return the favour. I looked down. For moving day, I had on old sweat pants and loose boxers. Marita's efforts had brought the circus to town and the main tent pole was blatantly up. I blinked again. Without conscious thought, I replied with a bark of a laugh. "Gawd, no!" Whatever Tiffany expected for a reaction, mine didn't fit. Only slapping her with a fish might result in the same popped eyes, gaping mouth surprise and hurt. She took a long second to process the concept of not being someone's fantasy girl. Her eyebrows slammed together and her lips closed in a thin line. Red crept up from her cleavage to distort her pretty face. "YOU PENCIL DICK..." She floundered. While I may not be packing a salami, what was tenting my sweats could not be called a "pencil". She started again. "You slob of a geek! You nerd freak! This minute is as close as you'll ever get to babies this good if you live to be a hundred!" Normal manners would suggest I try to hide my boner. But I'd be strung up by my nuts before I'd show any weakness in front of Harpy Girl. "I do apologize for any slight, Tiffany. However, I was, in fact, daydreaming about breasts that I have not only seen, touched, and kissed but are far superior to yours. Not that your's aren't quite nice. Obviously you paid a lot of money for them." Trying to keep my temper and to slip in the last word, I turned to the bathroom door. "Excuse me, I think I'll wash up before the food comes." I closed the door on Tiffany's bellow of rage. "You lying fuckhead! Nobody talks to me that way! You're in there jacking off thinking about me right now, because you'll never have a real woman. The only tits you've seen are on a computer screen!" I leaned on my hands and looked at myself in the big bathroom mirror. I shook my head and my reflection agreed with my frustration. I'd had to put up with that shrew for ove ra month while Harry put me up. It's all done, Zach, it's all over. Well, washing up would be a good idea. Hygiene and some water to cool the blood. I peeled off my shirt, smiling at the tent that was only beginning to subside. I went profile and chuckled at the rude display. I started to soap up my hands. Jacking off, indeed. If a fraction of the promise of Avalon Apartments came true, I'd never have to seek solo relief again. I brought the towel up to dry my face. Tiffany had finally shut up. My breathing and heart rate had slowed. My cock had started to droop. The doorknob clicked. The bathroom door slammed back. I brought the towel down in shock as a flash popped in my eyes. "Caught you jerking off!" Tiffany exulted, phone up and taking pictures. "The girls will love these snaps." She trailed off as she realized I still had my pants on. My blood pressure soared. I snapped. "A camera? A CAMERA??" I snatched her phone out of her startled hand. "You self-centered bitch! You were honestly going to post pictures of me jerking off on the fucking internet? Well, if your friends want nudity, how about a naked skank?" I stepped in and grabbed Tiffany around the waist with one arm, yanking her close. As her brain struggled to catch up, I gripped the hem of her shirt at the back and pulled up, giving her a small shove. The pink shirt peeled up over her arms like a banana skin. She came to rest against the door frame, hair tousled and eyes wild. I brought her phone up and started snapping. To minimize unsightly lines under her thin t-shirt, Tiffany had a light, sheer bra that left little to the imagination. I got off three good candids of rosy nipples behind lace before as she dithered between covering herself and making me stop. I flung the shirt aside and stepped in again, her hands batting away at me as I gripped the front of her bra between her bouncing tits and pulled it up. Flash! "GIve me that fucking phone!" She lunged at me, but tangled in bra straps, she didn't quite reach the phone. I jumped out of the bathroom, letting weeks of TIffany Frustration run wild. I made two steps when she grabbed the back of my sweat pants. I fell forward, the phone skittering off across the rug as I caught myself from a face plant. I squirmed away as she clawed at my legs. Sweatpants came off very easily, leaving me in boxers and socks. Tiffany waddled forward on her knees, nude from the waist up, taking off the remaining spike heel shoe that had tripped her up. I rolled to my hands and knees to scrabble for the phone. I spun on to my back and clicked off two more shots of Tiffany in her bouncing, jiggling hellcat glory. "You shit head bastard!" Tiffany lunged at me again, just as I got my feet under me to stand up. This time she took down my boxers and left some $50 per nail scratches down both my thighs. I danced backwards, my cock bobbing stiffly in the open air. I took my eyes off Tiffany to find the switch to video. Still photos weren't enough. Crash! Something shattered on the wall behind me. "Drop that fucking phone!" Tiffany knelt beside an open box, chest and boobs heaving, eyes blazing, the spaceships she loved to mock in each hand. I glanced over my shoulder. One lay in bits across the carpet. I thought I had already lost my temper. Apparently not. "You miserable stupid cow! Those aren't toys, they're heirlooms! Keepsakes from my uncle and dad!" I let the phone bounce to the carpet as I lunged at her like an attacking bear. She raised one of the antiques to smash it, but I tackled her, grabbing both wrists. I landed on top of her, crushing her big tits under my chest. I snarled into her face and twisted her wrists until both ships slipped safely to the floor. She snarled back at me. Drops of sweat dropped on her face from me. Tiny sprays of spit hit my face. I sat back up, pulling her along with me. Tiffany exercised only enough to keep herself fashionably skinny. She had no muscle tone to stop me. Too selfish to reason with. Too uncaring to listen to arguments. I saw only way to make my point. Sitting cross-legged, with the carpet scratching my bare ass, I shifted Tiffany face down across my lap. My cock head poked into her stomach. I kept my arm across her back to pin her down while my other hand pulled and yanked at the waistband of her jeans. Skin tight as they were, it took a bucking, wrestling few minutes to expose her ass. No panties. Being sexy or fashionable? Didn't matter. WHACK! I brought the flat of my hand across her pert cheeks. We had descended to grunts and growls while wrestling, but this brought a fresh shriek out of her. "YOW! You bastard! Let me go!" WHACK! "Ow!" WHACK! "Jesus!" WHACK! "Stop it!" WHACK! I kept going, letting loose a lot of frustration, some of it not entirely Tiffany's fault, but just for the style of person she was. Her cheeks wobbled like red jello when I finally felt a need to pause, if only because my arm and hand ached. Tiffany's shouts had become whimpers had become...moans? Her long, smooth body didn't thrash so much as "squirm". "Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh fuck." She moaned into the carpet as her body writhed on my lap. I don't know if Tiffany knew this about herself or not. The fact my cock still stood like a bar of iron surprised me. She turned her head, peering at me with a mascara-streaked eye through a curtain of tousled blonde hair. "...please zach. don stup." came a bleary voice talking into the carpet. I felt something splish on to my thigh beneath Tiff. It might have been sweat, but my nose caught the rising tang of a woman feeling the heat. It didn't calm me down much. Still, I hadn't become a total lunatic. I stood on a line. This side had some issues in polite company, but across that line I'd be tripping over words like "rape". But my cock and temper demanded more. Desperate to please, my brain noticed Tiffany's phone. I gave her beautiful bottom another smack. "Speak up Tiffany. You want me to stop?" Smack. "No, no! DON'T stop! Damn, I'm boiling over." "So? What do you want me to do about it?" SMACK! "AH!" Her head jerked around again. "Fuck me. Damn it, fuck me!" "Anything you say, Tiff." I slid out from under her, letting her collapse on the carpet. My cock thrummed as her body flicked it in passing. Tiff's waist and hips wriggled in time to her moans. A couple of savage yanks pulled each leg of her jeans down and off. I pulled the naked woman to her hands and knees and slid into position. My penis throbbed, ready and eager. I pointed the big purple head at her dripping cunt and slammed on in. "Bitches get fucked like bitches." "Keerist!" Tiffany grunted and hammered her delicate fists on the carpet-over- concrete. "Oh, yeah. Oh YEAH." I took hold of her lean waist and pounded for all I was worth. My hips slammed against that red ass and bounced back. Tiffany's lubrication didn't match her desire and I felt my cock heat up with the friction. Her cunt soon started juicing under the assault. My back began to feel the strain, but I kept the jackhammer attack going, gritting my teeth. As long as I kept my brain and its opinions locked in the back in the trunk, my body didn't mind fucking Tiffany at all. "GUHhhh. Oh it hurts so damn good." "What. Does. Tiffany?" I gasped out as separate words. "Tell me." "Fucking. You fucking me." She rose up on her hands and back down. Her big barbie boobs flounced back and forth from under her too skinny torso with each stroke. I slowed enough to bend and give the right one a good grope. My first fake breast. Not as bad as I expected. Like squeezing a soft foam ball. Not as good as a real breast, but not bad. Tiffany moaned. "Pinch my nipple." I rolled the fat nipple tip between thumb and forefinger. Tiffany sobbed and pushed her tit into my hand. "The other one! The other one!" "The other one what, Tiffany?" "Pinch my other nipple, idiot!" "Holy crap!" I stuttered in my thrusting as Harry's voice startled me. I looked over my shoulder at his shocked face. Everything balanced on the twirl of one second. One hint of betrayal, one suggestion of rage and guilt or fear would stop me cold. Harry's face twisted in an stunned half-smile. He set the bag of food down. I smiled back at him and revved up my thrusts again. "Mind if I finish?" "Go right ahead, brother." He began to peel out of his clothes. "Mind if I watch? I really have a thing about watching." "Be our guest." Tiffany groped her way through her erotic fog. She peered backwards. Her eyes widened. "Harry? Omigawd. Harry? Stop him. He's raping me!" My brother went on his knees beside us, naked and working his cock up to a full erection with a practiced right hand. "That right, Zach? You raping my girl?" "Nope." I reached around and finally did the rolling nipple pinch Tiff had requested. Her guttural growl didn't sound at all unhappy or coerced. "Okay, then." Harry began a smooth, slow pump of his cock. Seems the McAllister genes bred true. Average length but solid and thick. His eyes drank in our fucking with a wide leer. My streak of exhibitionism didn't mind the audience and I felt fresh energy building in my groin. "I should be mad, I guess, but this cocktease has kept me on a starvation diet for too long." Harry snarled a smile, continuing in a cartoon falsetto, "By me this ring Harry, and you might get some nummies tonight. No laundry, no nookie Harry. I'm watching Celebrity Showdown, don't bother me." "You two are...argh. Put it back in, put it back in!" Tiffany wailed as I pulled out. My juice coated cock felt cool in the room air. I lumbered off my red knees and slapped my brother's shoulder. "Give it to her, Harry." With a grin, Harry leapt in to place behind Tiffany. He ran his palms down her sweaty back, then took his throbber in hand and rammed it until his pubes squelched hard into her sopping bald pussy. I flexed my legs a time or two to get circulation back. Then I went back on my knees and waved my fat, slimy erection in Tiffany's face. Harry raised an eyebrow in concern and cocked his head. I shook my head at his fear. Why I figured she wouldn't bite it off, I don't know. I think for all her big talk, Tiffany was discovering a whole world of submission. I tickled her nose with the head and pressed it to her lips. "Like sucking cock, Tiffany? Speak up." Grunting under Harry's pounding, she managed to blurt in a fevered voice, "Yes, I want to suck your cock." Her mouth engulfed me and her tongue went wild around my shaft. I ran my fingers through her mane and began to softly jerk my hips. "She's damn good at this." "I'll have to take your word for it. She wouldn't so much as kiss mine." The bitterness in Harry's voice lost its punch with the bliss of a hot fuck filling his face. His eyes snapped open and twinkled brightly. He looked at me, then at Tiffany and then at her ass. "You know what else I always wanted that never happened?" He spat a big gob of saliva into the fingers of his left hand. He then rubbed the slippery moisture all around Tiffany's rosebud. Her wonderful suction action abruptly stopped. I stroked her hair and face, continuing to pump. "It'll be fun." Harry pulled out. He carefully positioned his juiced cock at the entrance to Tiffany's asshole and pushed. I felt the blood surge hotly in my face. I panted heavily. "Push it harder. Don't stop." My brother Harry did a deep chest grunt and pushed, sweat beading over his face. "Something is going to rip if I go harder. We need some lubricant or..." Without a rip, or even a popping sound, Harry's cock edged the half a centimeter it needed to slide smoothly down Tiffany's ass. I did a quick two step on my knees not to stumble as Tiffany shrilled a hot moan and bucked. We re-balanced ourselves around the woman and went back to it. "OH, HOLY CRAP, but that's tight. Not going to last long at all." "Me either. Me either." The long-deprived Harry fired his load first, clutching Tiffany's hips like he was going to fall off a building. He shuddered in a full body muscle spasm. A sight like that took me over the edge and my hips jerked as I unloaded into Tiffany's mouth. I collapsed back on to my elbows, knees finally saying enough was enough. My breath came in ragged gulps. Harry fell back on to his ass, the stupidest grin on his flushed face. Tiffany slumped to the carpet like a sack of wet oatmeal and didn't move. My brain broke out of the trunk and reclaimed the driver seat. Concerned, I rolled so my forehead bumped with Tiffany's. At least I heard breathing. I stretched out and managed to snag her discarded phone with my fingertips. I brought it close to its owner. I cooed softly into her ear. "Tifffannny? Do you feel good? Are you alright?" "MMmmm, yes." She slurred and nearly purred. "We're so glad." I rolled and sat back against a wall, softening cock drooling on my thigh. I worked the phone. Harry swept his hands over his face, slicking sweat away and smiled at me. He took hold of Tiff's left foot and gave it a loose shake. "C'mon sleeping slut. Up and away." "Hmm?" Tiffany rotated on to her back. Her careful coiffure had become a crazed bird's nest. Her makeup looked like she'd stood in front of a garden hose. The cum dribbling down her chin had begun to dry. Her boobs flared red with rough handling and rug burn, like her knees. She sat up like a drunk on a rocking boat, wincing sharply when her ass took the weight. The golden setting sun filled my apartment. Tiffany looked blearily at me and then at Harry. I looked at Harry. "I'm hungry. Let's eat." "Helluvan idea!" Harry and I stood up. Tiffany stared at our naked bodies (well, except for my socks) and frowned. The lights began to come on again in her eyes. The muscles in her face tightened under the smudged makeup. "You cocksucking shit heads." She growled in a low voice. "You're going to be brother convicts doing time for rape and assault. Then I'll sue you for..." I held up her phone and clicked "play". "AH! Fuck me. Damn it, fuck me!" "Anything you say, Tiff." I looked at the screen. "The camera doesn't really capture anything too clearly, but the sound is excellent." I hit play again. "Tifffannny? Do you feel good? Are you alright?" "MMmmm, yes." I slid her pink phone across the carpet to her. "And I already emailed all this afternoon's files to Harry and myself, so don't worry about losing them." Tiffany didn't say anything. Her left eye twitched, but she didn't say anything. She collected her scattered clothing and disappeared into the bathroom. Harry and I had barely dished up the still warm food when she emerged, cleaned up if not her usual primped. She shot us the Finger and stalked out. I imagine she had a lot to think about. Knowing Tiffany, she wouldn't bother. Harry and I went back to sit on the floor, still naked, backs against the wall. We ate. "So, I'm a bachelor again." "Sorry about all this, Harry. I really am." "No, no. It's all good, brother." He opened his mouth to continue, then shrugged. "It's good." A companionable time passed with nothing but chewing and the working of plastic forks. "So, you like to watch, eh?" Harry blushed a bit and grinned like a kid. "Well, what can I say? Yeah, I do." I considered options while savouring another mouthful of souvlaki. I swallowed. "I think you need to come to my housewarming party." "Well, I assumed I was already invited." "No, no. My REAL housewarming party."

_***All characters are over 18 and are fictional. Any resemblance to any real- life persons is purely coincidental._ ... Sandra had to pour herself another glass of wine. She had been drinking a lot of it lately, fearing she might become an alcoholic. But it was the only thing to help her get past her troubles with her daughter, Megan, who was out with her douchebag boyfriend, Derek. She despised the name Derek; it was as if his parents foresaw what a jerk, he would turn out to be and named him accordingly. She needed the extra wine after she saw on her daughters' Instagram page a photo of her and Derek holding each other with the caption "True Love Never Dies." It was only a week ago when she was with her daughter all night, consoling her after Derek broke it off with her, again. She vowed to never see him again, like she always did, and now she was out with him at a night club. Her daughter had been on and off with Derek for about four years, since the summer after she graduated high school. She had just turned 18 and was hanging out with some friends on the beach when the then-26-year-old Derek spotted her and put his moves on her. She was flattered that a cute older guy was interested in her, and it didn't take long before she fell head over heels for him. Sandra also fell for his act in the beginning. He was charming, helpful around the house, and always knew what to say. She was concerned about him being older than Megan, but she trusted her daughter and saw no problems with him at the time. He did flirt with Sandra a lot in the beginning, but he never crossed any lines, so she assumed he was doing it in a friendly way, much like how her male friends sometimes flirt with her. A few months into their relationship, things began to go sour, and Derek abruptly broke it off with her. Megan was OK with it at first, but cried when she found out that Derek started seeing someone immediately after the breakup. They eventually got back together, but then broke up a few months later when she caught him cheating on her, and then took him back again a few months after that. Megan did go out with other guys in between the breakups, and many of them showed her a lot of respect. Sandra even set her up with a few guys she knew, each of whom she had a lot of fun with and never mistreated her. But eventually, Derek snuck his way back into her life and used her like he always did. When Sandra saw what was happening to her daughter, she tried her best to get it to stop. She spent months trying to convince Megan to permanently break it off with Derek. She tried to convince Megan that he was a fuckboy who was using her, but she didn't want to hear it. Sandra's friends warned her that by disapproving of their relationship, it would only push them closer together. She saw some truth in it because the same thing happened between her and Megan's father, which led her to get pregnant with Megan. Back in high school, Sandra had a boyfriend who was much like Derek. The more her parents disapproved, the more she wanted him. They did break up in their senior year, when she was 17, but only because she found herself pregnant and he didn't want to be part of it. So, for the next several months, she didn't interfere with their relationship. She didn't show any approval of them, nor did she try to interfere with them. She decided to just be nice and let it play out, and hoped her daughter would come to the right decision on her own. Unfortunately, the plan backfired spectacularly as they broke up and got back together three more times. No matter what the situation was, Megan still found her way back to him when he came calling. Not only that, Megan thought her mother had changed her mind about Derek and approved of him, which only made her want him more. During that time, Derek's friendly flirting towards Sandra evolved into straight-up sexual harassment. Whenever Megan wasn't around, he would make lurid comments to her and occasionally smack or grab her ass. She was usually quick enough to stop him from putting his hands on her, but he was often quick and got her when she was least expecting it. Eventually, Sandra gave up being nice and went back to showing her disapproval of Derek, doubling down on showing how much she hated him. Again, it only made Megan want him even more. Just after midnight, Megan came home with Derek. She could tell Megan had been drinking from the way she was moving. "Hey, mom," said Megan. "Hey, Sandy," said Derek. "It's Sandra," she reminded him. She didn't mind being called Sandy, but only by her friends, not by people she despised. "We'll see you in the morning," said Megan. They walked upstairs to Megan's room; Derek gave Sandra a wink as he followed her. Sandra didn't mind if Megan brought a man home for the night. Megan was an adult and was going to have an active sex life. She also thought it was a good way to make sure she was alright, instead of wondering where she was most nights. Plus, Sandra had enough boyfriends spending the night with her over the years, and Megan was always OK with it. The next morning, Sandra was in the kitchen getting the coffee pot ready. She was about to turn on the coffee machine when she was startled with a big smack to her backside. "Good morning, Sandy," said Derek. He had smacked her ass as he walked past her to go to the fridge. He was shirtless, only wearing his jeans. He took out a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and began drinking it straight from the bottle. "That's disgusting," said Sandra. He finished the bottle and tossed it into the garbage. "I needed to replenish my fluids after last night," he said with a big smile. "If you're curious about what I mean, I can show you." "You're just committed to this douchebag stereotype, aren't you?" replied Sandra. "You know, you like it, just like your daughter does," he said as he walked a little closer to her. "I wonder how much the daughter takes after her mother." He tried to put his arm around her waist, but she pushed him away and took a few steps back. "You're the worst," said Sandra, in disgust. "Don't you have any shame?" "Babe, you have no idea how shameless I can be. And I can show you exactly how if you let me." "I really hope my daughter is on birth control," said Sandra. Before Derek could respond with another crude comment, Megan came down the stairs to the kitchen, wearing skimpy pink pajamas. "Good morning, mom," she said. "Good morning, sweetie," Sandra replied. "Good morning, babe," said Derek. "Good morning to you too," she replied, and gave him a kiss. The coffee maker finished brewing, so Sandra made two cups for her and her daughter, and sat with her at the kitchen table. Derek went upstairs to get dressed and came back to the kitchen to say his goodbyes. Before he left, he told Megan he had taken $40 from her purse and promised to pay her back. Sandra rolled her eyes in annoyance again because she knew how he never paid her back when he took money from her. Derek said his goodbyes and left through the front door. "He did it again," said Sandra. "He smacked my ass." "He was being nice to you," said Megan. "You have a nice ass. Take the compliment." "How about when he talks about fucking his girlfriend's mother? Am I supposed to take that as a compliment as well?" "Oh, come on, mom, not this again," said Megan, rolling her eyes. "He's playing around, he doesn't actually mean it. Also, he would never cheat on me with my own mother." "Trust me, he's definitely the type who would, if given the chance," replied Sandra. "Besides being a douchebag, he's a total fuckboy who would screw anything with a hole in it. But knowing how this has been going for so many years, if he did fuck me, you would still take him back." "Oh, no," replied Megan. "That kind of violation can never be forgiven." Sandra noticed how serious Megan looked when she made that statement. Some crazy thoughts were going through her mind, and she wanted to know more about her daughter. "So, if he were to ever fuck me, he would be gone from your life for good?" "Of course," said Megan. "I mean, it's bad enough that he has cheated on me in the past, him fucking you would be the ultimate form of betrayal. No matter what he says or does to try to get me back, all I will be able to think about is how he has so little respect for me that he would do such a thing." Sandra was getting very curious about the whole subject. "At least I know you have some kind of limit with him." "But that'll never happen," replied Megan. "You made it abundantly clear how much you hate him." "Yes, I do," said Sandra as she sipped her coffee. Megan finished her coffee and went to get dressed so she could go to work. Sandra got herself another cup of coffee and thought about the conversation she just had with Megan. An insane, yet perfect idea of how to get rid of Derek once and for all had come out of nowhere and fallen on her lap. It was a crazy thought, but she seriously considered the idea. She was sure Derek would fuck her if given the chance. And if Megan was sincere about what she told her, it would be the end of Derek and she would eventually be forgiven for her part in it. She was sure if she did it just to prove how awful Derek was, Megan would forgive her even faster. The only part of the idea she hated most about it was the thought of having Derek have his way with her. Sandra had her share of bad relationships with men like him, Megan's father being one of them, but none were as bad as Derek. She felt disgusted with the idea of letting Derek put his dick in her. She finished her second cup of coffee and went to get dressed to get to work as well. She pushed away the idea she had in her mind. She may be desperate to get rid of Derek from her and her daughters' lives, but even for Megan, she didn't think she could ever go through with it. She went to work at the beauty parlor where she was a hair stylist and the assistant manager. It was an easy day for her; there were a lot of simple hairstyles she had to do and only a couple of dye jobs. She was actually hoping for a busier day so she wouldn't have to think too much about her daughter and the only idea she could think of to finally get rid of Derek. The next day, when Sandra came home from work in the evening, she found her daughter crying on the couch. "Oh no, not again," said Sandra. "He cheated on me again," Megan whimpered. "This time with a fucking stripper and he got her pregnant." "That's what I figured," Sandra replied. She always thought Derek was the type of guy who would end up getting a stripper pregnant. Sandra sat by her daughter on the couch and held her as she cried on her shoulder. She listened to Megan complain about what a bastard he was, and Sandra said whatever she could to make her feel better. Throughout the entire time she was consoling Megan, she was secretly hoping in her mind that this meant Derek was finally out of the picture. She hoped that he would do the right thing once and be with his stripper girlfriend to take care of his kid. That way, he would be out of Megan's life for good. A week later, when it seemed like Megan was looking to move past Derek, Sandra was on the verge of introducing her to the son of a friend of hers who had just come out of the Marines and was going to school to be a lawyer. She was sure they would make a good match, especially since Megan has expressed interest in military men in the past. But before she could bring up the subject, Megan had some news of her own. "Derek and I are back together and moving in with each other," said Megan. "What the fuck?" Sandra yelled. They were having dinner together, a new tuna casserole recipe that Sandra was trying out. They were having a good time until Megan suddenly blurted out that news. "What about the stripper he knocked up?" Megan replied, "It's not his fault. She told him she was on the pill and tricked him into getting her pregnant. Now he's stuck with having to take care of a kid." "She tricked him? And you actually believe that?" "Why would he lie about that?" said Megan. Sandra felt like smacking her daughter, but held back. "And what, you're going to help take care of his kid?" "I think I would make a good stepmother," said Megan. "Stepmother?" Sandar asked, with a shocked expression. "Are you talking about getting married?" "Not yet, but if we move in together, it will happen eventually," said Megan. Sandra shuddered at the thought of her daughter actually marrying Derek and being a stepmom to the bastard child he got from knocking up a stripper. She wasn't sure if Derek would actually go through with them moving in with each other, but she really didn't want to take the chance. Even if he backs out of the idea, Sandra was sure he would find his way back into Megan's life. She also considered what would happen if Derek got Megan pregnant. The thought of Megan having his child scared Sandra immensely. She liked the idea of being a grandmother, especially at a young age when she could watch her grandchildren grow up. But the idea of her daughter having his baby made her feel ill. She felt she had no choice in the matter. As disgusting as the idea sounded, the only way she could think of getting rid of Derek was to get caught having sex with him. Megan specifically told her it would be the ultimate act of betrayal that could not be forgiven, and she could not think of any other plan to get rid of him. She would do anything for her daughter, even if she had to do something so degrading. Over the next week, Sandra planned out how she was going to go through with it all. She could easily get Derek to have sex with her. It wouldn't be hard for a man like him, but she needed to find the right moment and have it done the right way. If it all went wrong, Megan would never forgive her and she would end up letting Derek fuck her for no reason. The perfect moment finally came one morning when she woke up early and heard Megan in the bathroom. She and Derek had spent another night together in her bedroom. Sandra felt a little lucky because it was Derek who was usually up earlier. Sandra went to the kitchen quickly and dumped out whatever was left of the orange juice and threw away the empty bottle. She then began setting up the coffee machine like she always did in the mornings. "Good morning, mom," said Megan. She had shown up wearing her normal skimpy pajamas. "Good morning, sweetie." Megan went to the fridge and noticed the orange juice was gone. "We're out of OJ?" said Megan. "Derek is going to be disappointed." "He's still asleep. Why don't you go to the store and get some?" Sandra suggested. "Good idea," Megan replied. "And while you're there, maybe you can get us just a few things so we can all have breakfast together." "All of us?" asked Megan. "I figure if he's definitely going to be in our lives, I should make more of an effort to be nicer to him." Megan smiled with delight. "I'm so glad to finally hear you say that," she said as she gave her mother a hug. Megan went to get dressed quickly while Sandra made out a list of things for her to get. It was only a few things, just enough to keep her out of the house for just the right amount of time she needed. There was a chance Megan would be out longer or come back sooner than expected, but it was a risk she needed to take because she wasn't sure how many chances she would be getting. As soon as Megan left the house, Sandra made sure she had the right look she needed. She went to her bedroom to put on a black negligee and, over it, a short silk robe that covered everything up top but showed enough of her legs. She thought about putting on a little makeup and perfume, but thought it wouldn't look right for a morning look. Instead, she just fixed her hair a little and put on some scented lotion. She wanted to look sexy but not be too obvious about it. She considered herself fortunate to have had a child at the age of 17. At age 39, she still looked pretty young and was often mistaken for Megan's older sister, which she loved hearing. She had long blonde hair, a good body from a workout routine she always followed, and good-sized D-cup breasts that her friends envied because they were still very firm for her age. It was because of this that she still had plenty of men coming after her and maintained a good sex life. She heard Derek go to the bathroom and quickly went back to the kitchen. She grabbed her smartphone and placed it close by. She turned on a recording app she recently downloaded and tested several times. She made herself a cup of coffee and heard him come down the stairs. She stood by the coffee maker with her back turned while drinking from her mug, pretending not to hear him coming from behind. "Nice robe, Sandy," said Derek. She braced herself for what she knew was coming, which was another big slap to her ass. This time he didn't just smack her ass, but gave it a good grab as well. Even when she knew what was coming, it still hurt. Derek, was once again shirtless and wearing just his shorts. He went to the fridge and noticed the orange juice was gone. Instead, he went for the half- gallon of milk and began drinking straight from the bottle. "Where's Megan?" asked Derek. "She was called into work early," Sandy replied. She hoped that Derek wouldn't check his phone to see if he got a text from her and he didn't; she assumed he just didn't care enough about Megan to check. Instead, he just continued drinking from the milk bottle. When he was done, he put the milk back in the fridge and then took a good look at Sandra in her short silk robe. "You're looking extra fine today, baby," said Derek. "Do you really plan to move in with my daughter?" Sandar asked, getting straight to the point. "I thought about it," Derek replied. "But let's face it, it'll never work out. But it's a good way to keep leading her on as I always do." "So, you actually admit that's what you've been doing to her this whole time?" "Hey, it's her fault for not learning her lesson by now," he replied. "I just keep making apologies and she keeps taking me back even though she knows what's going to happen." Sandra took a few steps closer to him. "And I'm assuming you're being this blunt with me because you think Megan would never believe me if I told her this. Am I right?" "You haven't been able to convince her to cut me loose by now despite all the evidence," he said. "So, it doesn't matter what I say to you." Sandra got even closer to him, enough for him to smell her scented lotion. "I really want you out of my daughter's life," she told him. "What will it take for you to finally be gone?" Just as she hoped, Derek was too distracted by her appearance to really think clearly. He reached up his hands and opened the front of her robe a little to take a good look at her cleavage. Sandra didn't stop him and gave him a fake smile. "There is something I've always wanted," he began to say. "If I finally get it, I think it would be the incentive I need to finally be done with your family and move one." "So, if I let you fuck me, would you finally leave Megan alone for good?" Sandy asked. "Of course," he said. "I'll get what I wanted, after all." "How do I know you're telling the truth?" she asked. "I've been getting very bored playing around with your daughter," he said. "It was fun in the beginning, using her like I do, but eventually it became less sporting, the way she takes me back so easily. The least she could do was make it a challenge and make it harder for me to get back into her life, but it was all too easy." "And I'm a bigger challenge?" "Oh yeah," he said. "Fucking my girlfriends' mom, especially a crazy hot milf such as yourself, would be the ultimate goal." "So, we have a deal then?" she asked. "You fuck me, and you leave Megan alone." "Yes," he confirmed. "After I finally stick my dick in you, I'm done with your idiot daughter." Sandra had to hold back the urge to punch him throughout the whole conversation, especially at the last comment. She undid the belt of the robe and let it fall to the ground, showing him the negligee, she was wearing. "Daaaamn girl, you're the whole package," he said. Sandra still couldn't believe how much of a douchebag stereotype he was. "You're not kissing me and I'm not sucking your dick," she told him. "Fine with me, I just want that fine ass of yours," he replied. "Go get a condom," she ordered. She assumed he was going to go to Megan's room for one, but instead he pulled out a condom from his pocket. It was not a surprise to her that a guy like him would have one at all times to be ready to fool around. Sandra looked at the clock. She was sure that Megan would be coming soon to catch them in the act. Even if she was late, Sandra hoped the recording on her phone would be enough for her, but she knew Megan well enough that she needed visual confirmation as well. She pulled down the straps of her negligee and pushed it down to her ankles, revealing to him her naked body. Derek looked like a teenager who was about to have sex for the first time, and he fumbled as he took off his shorts. His dick was big, but not the biggest she had ever seen. She didn't really want to see it, but she wanted to make sure he was definitely going to put the condom on. The least thing she needed was for him to pretend it was on so he could stick his bare dick into her. Sandra was on the pill, but she was not taking any risks with him. Sandra walked over to the kitchen table and sat on the edge. "So, we're really doing this right here?" he asked. "No better time and place," she replied. Derek walked up to her and grabbed her tits. He tried to kiss her on the mouth, but she moved her head just in time. Instead, he started kissing her neck, then moved his head down to her tits where he sucked them for a little while. With his head buried in her tits, Sandra looked up at the wall clock. She was hoping that Megan would come back soon. She did not want it to last as long as it should. When Derek was done playing with her tits, he turned her around and made her bend over the table on her stomach. She was glad that he wanted her to look the other way because it made it easier for her not to have to look at his face when he was fucking her. He made Sandra spread her legs apart to get better access and pushed his dick right into her. Sandra gasped as she felt his big dick push into her tight pussy. She was surprised at how good it felt in her, but she didn't show it to give him that satisfaction. Derek grabbed her by the hips as he started pumping his dick into her with fast, hard thrusts. "Oh yeah, this pussy is amazing," he said. Derek used every ounce of strength she had to fuck her as hard as he could. Sandra had to bite her lip to keep her from moaning. It was actually better than she had expected it to be; she could see why Megan enjoyed him so much. But she didn't want to show how much she was enjoying it, so she stuck to her plan. Derek stopped suddenly and pulled his dick out of her pussy and lined it up to her asshole. "What are you doing?" Sandra asked. "I told you before, I wanted that fine ass of yours," he told her. Sandra had some experience with anal sex. She had a few previous boyfriends who really liked ramming it into her ass, and she learned to enjoy the pleasures of it when it was done right. It still wasn't something she was always into during sex, but she was OK with letting it happen when the situation came up. He pushed his dick hard into her ass. Sandra was a little stunned at first, but as he started fucking her ass, she quickly started to enjoy the intense feeling. "You like that, you little slut?" he asked. "Fuck you," she replied, as she did her best to hide her pleasure. She was actually enjoying it very much, something she didn't think would happen when she decided to seduce him. She even began to like it when he started smacking her ass and calling her bad names. As Derek began to go faster and harder, an orgasm shot through her body and she had to bite her lip hard to prevent herself from screaming in ecstasy. Despite how great it felt, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction that he was giving her pleasure. The sensation was getting too much for Derek to handle, and he knew he was going to come at any moment. He slowed down a little and tried to hold off as much as he could to make it last longer. Sandra could tell he was about to finish. She hoped he could last a little longer, not just because of how much she was secretly enjoying it, but because she still wanted to be caught by Megan. She wasn't sure about the time, but she could tell that Megan was taking a lot longer than she expected to come back from the store. After a few more minutes, Derek couldn't hold it any longer and shot his cum before he started to slow down some more. He continued fucking her for a couple more minutes before his dick began to go soft and he pulled out of her ass. He gave Sandra one last smack on the ass before taking off the condom and dumping it in the garbage. "That was amazing," he said. "You piece of shit," a voice said. Derek turned around in shock to see Megan standing in the entranceway of the kitchen with a bag of groceries in her hand. "Megan!" Derek cried out. "Your mother said you were at work." "She sent me to get groceries," Megan replied. "I'm now assuming she did that so I would be out long enough for me to come back home to see this." "Yes, that was the plan," said Sandra. Sandra grabbed her negligee and robe that were on the floor and put them on as Megan and Derek argued. He tried to make as many excuses as he could, saying how it was Sandra who seduced him, but Megan wasn't buying any of it. To be absolutely sure her daughter wouldn't start falling for his lies again, she grabbed her phone and played the recording of everything that Derek said while she was gone. Derek tried to stop it, but Megan pushed him away to listen to every horrible word he had said. Derek still tried to make excuses, but Megan shot her knee into his groin. Derek was still naked, so she had a clear shot at his dick. While bent over in paint and grabbing his dick, Megan grabbed him by the hair and shot her knee up into his face. Sandra wanted part of the action too, as she punched him straight in the eye. She had an ex-boyfriend who was a boxer and taught her how to land a perfect right hook. Tears ran down Derek's face as he quickly grabbed his clothes and ran out of the house crying. There was a moment of silence between Sandra and Megan. After everything, they didn't know what to say to each other. "Go get dressed, I'll get our coffee ready," said Megan. Sandra went back to her bedroom and put on a short-sleeved shirt and pants. She fixed herself up in the bathroom and waited a few minutes before facing her daughter. Everything seemed to be going well and according to her plan to get rid of Derek, but now she had to face the consequences. She met her daughter back in the kitchen. She had the coffee ready for them, and she sat down next to her. Sandra had to adjust the way she sat because her ass was still a little sore and winced from the pain from sitting down. "That's going to last a couple of days," said Megan, after recognizing the reason for her mother's discomfort. Sandra took one sip of her coffee and set it down. But before she could say anything, Megan threw her coffee into Sandra's face, completely surprising her. "That was a shitty thing you did," said Megan. "I understand why you did it, but it was still a shitty thing to do." "I know," Sandra replied. "And I'm sorry. But after everything that has been happening in the last four years and with the idea of you moving in with him, even after he knocked up a stripper, I felt I had no choice." "Well, if I hadn't seen the evidence with my own eyes, I think I would've continued that same pattern with him," said Megan. "But that doesn't mean what you did was right." "Can you ever forgive me?" "Yes, mom, of course I forgive you," she said. "I know how much you hated Derek, so I'm sure that wasn't an easy decision to come to." "No, it was not," said Sandra. "And you must be really disgusted with yourself," said Megan. "You probably hated every moment of it." "It was just awful," said Sandra. She thought it was best not to admit that she had unexpectedly enjoyed herself. They stood up and gave each other a big hug, and they both teared up a little. Sandra left to clean the coffee off her face and hair and to change her shirt. When she got back, she saw that Megan had cleaned up the kitchen table from the coffee spill and had made them both new cups to drink from. They sat back down at the table and continued their discussion. "I understand your reasons, but please, don't ever fuck a boyfriend of mine ever again," said Megan. "I won't," said Sandra. "I just hope you never date a guy like Derek ever again." "Oh, I definitely won't," said Megan. "Also, we're going to need a new kitchen table," said Sandra. "All I could think of when I saw this table was him fucking me." "Agreed," said Megan. "We need to burn this thing." They both had a good laugh at that. It didn't take long for Megan to get over Derek. A few weeks later, Derek tried to worm his way back into her life, but she cut him off completely. The last they heard about him, he moved in with the stripper he knocked up. Megan dated a few guys before she agreed to meet with the Marine son of one of Sandra's friends, and things went very well between them. So well, that after six months together, Megan found herself pregnant. She moved in with the guy and they became engaged to be married. Sandra is enjoying the idea of being a young grandmother. THE END!

This started about 3 years ago. I started to work for a charter bus company. They are south of Cleveland, Ohio. I can not tell you the name. If my boss would read this and find out about it I know I would lose my job. I started to drive for them in the winter. By summer I had a few groups that called me off and no. The one group was a Cleveland collage. Also no name. In the spring soft ball started. I got the girls fast pitch soft ball team. Not a bad job. Since I'm in my 30s, ok mid 30's. Alright I'm 38 years old. I do not look bad for 38. I stand 5' 11" almost 190 not what I would call a stud but average looking. The first charter came and I picked up 19 girls, a coach and a score keeper. I took them on a three day trip south of Cleveland. No guys. I had my own room. Friday night they had a game, two on Saturday and then two on Sunday. Back home. On the way back home the score keeper sat up front and talked to me. This went on for about 4 weeks. One week home and one weekend on the road. Each time Angle would sit up front and talk to me. On the way down one Thursday we talked. This was going to be a 4 day trip. "So Bob are you married?" Angle and I would talk about anything. "Yes I am. Have been for 15 years. You?" I knew that she was not married, no ring. Why a girl of 22 looking like her was not married. I would have married her in the drop of a hat. Or her panties. "No". "Boyfriend then?" Her face had a smirk on it. I knew she had a boy friend. Just by the way she looked at me. "No. I have had a few but they are mostly into themselves. Thinking only of what is good for them. I gave up on them years back." Her face did turn a little red so I thought why not just ask. "Girl friend then?" I knew that it might not be the right thing to ask, but the hell. What could she do. Answer yes or no that was about it. "Yes I have dated a few. But then they act like I have to do as they say. Just like a guy. Right?" I just gave her my best smile. "I guess so." I looked over at her and then back on the road. "Have you ever gone out with a guy." Now it was my turn to get a red face. "Yes I have. Do you find that hard to believe?" Once more I took my eyes off the road and looked her right in the face. Now we both knew something about each other that no one else knew. "In a way yes. But then you are so open that it does sound like you. Did you enjoy it?" I think I knew what this was going to turn out to be. I tell you, you tell me. "Yes I did. Nothing like what it sounds like. Just a little touching and a few other things. Not to much of the gay thing. I have dated a few TS's and CD's." I found it easy to talk to her. "Do you still date them? Her smile had changed. Her eyes told me that she was just asking to ask and know me better. Not to judge me. "If I can find one that I like. Plus they have to understand what I'm into. Things I do and won't do. I guess you could say I'm more a clean freak. Into safe things but then they are kinky to some." I knew that I was getting into something that I do not talk to others about and I might scare her off. But then I was not looking to bed her down anyway. Not that I wouldn't if I could but she was a lot younger then the girls I dated or guys. "So you like kinky things then. Are you more into a submissive person?" She was looking right at me and then as she said it her eyes went down. I had a feeling that she was testing me. Trying to see what I would do. I was thinking. What is she really up to? Only one way to find out. "Yes I am. And my dear if you are what I think you are. Undue the next button on you blouse. If not then I guess your not what I have in mind"! I looked back at the road. I knew that I had taken a step and if she was not what I thought. Then all shit could break loose. I was thinking of what I might have to tell my boss if Angle told him I asked her to open her blouse for me. I drove for a few seconds more and then looked back. I did not see what I thought I would. But I did see that her blouse was open, not just one but all of them. Her red lace bra was holding her tits nice and rigid. I could see some white meat around her lace. I could also see her nipples. A light brown showing thru her lace bra. She was holding her blouse open so I could see. No one else could see her since they all sat in the back. "I see that you do as your told my dear. I like that in a good submissive. I guess I'm going to have to find out just how obedient you are. Do you always do as your told?" Now I knew I was taking a big step. Not just with my boss but with my job and her job. If anyone saw or heard what was going on. All kinds of hell could go on. "I guess your just going to have to order me to do things in front of you. But I do think it would be better later on in your room. I can tell you this. I have yet to disobey an order that was given to me by someone that I care for. And I do care for you. Shall we wait till we get to the hotel?" "I think that would be the best my dear. But for now remover your bra and place in in your bag!" I was doing this to see if she was as kinky as I thought and as daring as I thought. I watch off and on a few second on the road and then a few at her. I watched as her fingers open the front and then pulled it free. Then back at the road. Back to her and then I could see her white breast looking back at me. Her blouse open so anyone coming towards us could see her if they looked into the front window. Her nipples hard and sticking out. I would say that she could dial a phone with them. I got one more look at them and she closed her top. "Now that I have proven that I can do as I'm told my I see something that I have wanted to see since I first met you?" Her eyes went to my lap. I knew what she wanted to see. Do I dare do it. What would happen if anyone else saw. I found my hand going to my zipper without thinking. In one motion I had my zipper down. My hand was fishing in my pants and I started to pull my hard cock out. Now that I think back I know it was wrong. But I still did it. I pulled out my 7.5 inch cock. I then took my hand away from it and Angle could see almost all of it. My balls still inside but about 7 inches sticking out. I looked back at her and her mouth was open. Her tongue licking her upper lip some. Then she I watched her hand go to her lap and reach between her legs. They closed on her hand and it looked to me like she was about to get off. It took about 2 more hours to get to the hotel and check in. We had about 4 hours before the game and as we checked in I asked the hotel clerk if I could have a room off by myself. The look I got from him. He must be thinking that I was going to pick up a hooker off the street and take her to my room. "Sure, I have just the room for you. No one can see or hear you in that part of the building. Plus you have a side door if you want to us it. Down the road about two miles on the left is what your looking for!" He gave me a smile and I took the key. I called Angle and told her the room I was in. I went in and sat on the bed. "Come in my dear." In she walked. Right up to the bed and stood right in front on me. She had on the same blouse but she had put on a skirt. Not to long about mid thigh. I could tell she had stockings on. I could also see what looked like a garter belt. I had a half smile on my face. "I see that you are wearing a garter and stockings. Is that true? Show me." With that said she reached down and started to pull her skirt up. Once her stocking tops were showing she stopped. "I do hope that you enjoy what I have put on for you. I have about 2 hours before I have to get ready for the game. I need you to understand that no one can know about this. Other then that you may do as you please." I was thinking of all the things I would love to do to her. One of them was to spank her. To find out if she was what I thought she was. "Come and bend over the bed. Put your ass up so I may see." As I was saying that to her she had bent over and placed her hands by her head. "I'm going to spank you my dear. You are not to move. You may give the safe word of Parma if you want me to stop. Any other word then that one I will not stop. Do you understand me?" As I was speaking to her I was pulling up her skirt. Once over her ass I slapped her ass. Not to hard. But hard enough to leave a red make. "Do you understand me?" Once more I slapped her ass. I could see a red hand print showing on the sides of her lace panties. Her legs were together. I could not see what I was looking for between them. Still thinking of what I was going to see I slapped her the third time. This time a litter harder. "Yes I understand. The safe word is Parma. I will try to take what you give me. Right now you are about in Akron." This little cunt knew how to play the game. She just had told me that she could take much more then I was giving her. With that my hand came down hard. I could hear her give out a soft moan And then a sound like "OHG". I had no idea of what that meant. But I did enjoy the sound. Her ass moved as I slapped it. Like a shock wave. The skin of her now red ass moved up to her back. It looked like when you drop a stone in water. A wave of water moves away from that point. I could hear her breathing though her nose. My hand had left about 10 different red prints on her white ass. I was starting to enjoy giving her pain. And from what I could see she was enjoying it. I stopped spanking her and took off my pants and shorts. I was now stand naked behind her. My hard cock sticking out. I reached over and picked up my belt. I thought, should I slap her ass with this. I then brought it up and at about ¼ of what I wanted to I came down. I could hear her before I could see what it had done. The sound that came out told me what I needed to know. It was like it came out all in one word. "OHMYGODYES!" I could see her ass tighten. Her legs, ass and hips moved some. She did not try to move it away from me. I watched her reach for a pillow. I watched as she placed it under her mouth and moan into it. "You enjoy that, don't you?" I was asking her for two reasons. If she said yes then I knew she could take more. I waited for her answer. Her answer came out in this way. "Yes I do!" As she said it she was trying to hold something in. Her breathing was not the same as before. "You are still not that close to Parma. If you understand what I'm trying to tell you'" With that I bent down to her face. I kissed her ear and then her cheek. "If you are telling me that you would like more I'll do it. Do you think you could go to the game after I give you a sound spanking with my belt? And that tonight I could finish?" Her head come up and looked back at me. "God yes just do it. Do what ever you like. Please yourself. Treat me like a cunt that I am." Her head went back down. My hand reached out and pulled her panties down. I ripped them off her and I thought I saw something between her legs. But she kept them closed. I pulled my hand up and then it came down., hard. I could hear her suck in air and before she could move and make a sound I slapped her ass once more with my belt. That made 3 times with the belt. Her ass was now a deep red. I pulled back for number 4 and 5. I could hear the sound it made as number 4 and 5 hit. I was now glad that I had gotten a room off to the side. After number 5 I took a good look at her ass. Two makes on one cheek and 3 on the other. I reached down and open her cheeks and saw her ass hole. I could not see her pussy. I felt her ass and the heat that I had put to it. My finger pushed into her ass. It went right in. It felt hot inside her ass and tight. I knew right then I was going to fuck it before I let her go. I pulled it out and then pushed in deeper. In it went. I could hear her breathing harder. I started to finger her ass and I felt it open more. Out my finger came and down came the belt. Number 6 and back up, 7, 8. I was watching as her ass turned a beet red. Dark red. Then 9 and 10. I had slapped her ass almost as hard as I have ever spanked anyone else and she did not give a word that made me think I should stop. With the belt on the bed I reached out and open her cheeks. I placed my cock on her hole and started to push in. I could hear a sound like a jet taking off. A sound like an "AH" but just long and deep. I pushed hard and I went in. Deeper with each push. I felt her open her legs and I felt the heat on my balls. All the way in. I could feel her tight ass holding my cock in and then I felt her touch my balls with hers. Yes, just what I thought. My little Angle had a cock and balls. She was shaved and smooth. I felt her tighten her ass as my balls touched hers. I knew what she must be thinking. Did I know? Was I pleased? Was I going to leave her? Then I told her what she was waiting for. I pulled my cock out and then pushed in hard and deep. I reached up and took her hair in my hand and pulled her head back and up. I then started to fuck her ass. In and out. I pulled out till just the head popped out and then I pushed in once more I impelled her ass on my cock. She never once told me to stop or slow down. I was thinking of what to do next when it hit me. I started to fuck her. Not a love fuck. As in making love. That is soft. Not a fucking you would give someone you love. But a cram it to the brain hate fuck. I was trying to get my hole cock and balls up her ass. Each time I would push in I would pull her hips back. You could hear my thighs slap on her ass cheeks each time. I could feel the heat from the spanking I gave her on my thighs. I started to pump in and out and with each in stroke I could hear her. It was a steady beat. With each push in she would make a "AH" sound. We have all heard it when we fuck someone. It started off slow, like counting to 10 when you could your money. Then faster and faster. Now it was to the point that you could not keep up with the thrust. Think of how fast your hand moves when you jack off. I was trying to reach that count. I was getting closer and closer to shooting my load in her ass. I reached down and around her. I wanted to feel and touch her cock. See how big she was. Thinking if I could have her fuck me like I was fucking her. As I reached down I found it. "IT" Yes I found it. A nice size. I would say about 6 inches long and about as wide as two fingers. Just a little smaller then my cock. She was not dripping. That I liked. I started to pull up and down on it. And she was getting into it. I had my left hand on her cock and jacking in up and down. More down then up. As if I was milking her. I could feel her almost to that point. I pulled my cock out. Knowing what I was going to do. I moved fast to one side and kept jacking her cock off. Or I should say jacking her cock down. I started to spank her. I would slap her ass and then pull down on her cock. Slap, down, slap, down. "FUCK YES." That is all I heard. I felt her ass get tight and then her cock started to shoot. I was looking at her ass between the slaps and it was red. This bitch could take a spanking. I have never had a girl or guy that took that much. As she shot I kept spanking her and kept jacking her off. Then it happen. She was crying. She told me later that it felt that good that she just started to cry. With come on my hand and all over my bed I started to rub her ass. I touched it and felt the heat from it. Angle did not move. She was looking back at me and her face told me that she would never leave me. "My master is pleased with me?" The way she put it. I can not tell you how it made me feel that night. I have never spanked a person that hard. I have never fucked someone that hard. And I have never felt that good doing it. We have done it many times since then and I'm going to try my best to write about them. Please let me know if you enjoyed this story. It is my first on Angle and I hope not my last. Write me. Most of this is true. I have and still do spank others. Not as hard as this. I only spank as hard as they like. If anyone does it to hard it takes all the fun out of it for them and then other person.

_Author's Note:_ In every generation there surely must be young women whose natural sexuality is affected by ignorance or their circumstances -- or both. This would have been particularly true in the days before the Internet, which has, for all its faults, allowed people to learn of things that might otherwise not be spoken of. **'The Accumulator'** is a fanciful tale of such a girl, who discovers her mojo and much more with the help of a fraudulent inventor. It is, of course, a work of fiction and the characters within it, except for Wilhelm Reich, are entirely the product of my imagination -- so if you think you know them, you don't! And yes, everyone in this story engaged in sexual activity is over the age of 18. Hot_Sister. *** **THE ACCUMULATOR** September 1941 Stanley Greenhough carefully tightened the final screw in the new device, wiped his hands on an oily rag and stood back to admire his work. The cabinet stood before him, its lacquered surface gleaming under the garage lights and its brass fittings shining like strips of burnished gold on every edge. The inlaid tortoiseshell parquetry oozed expensive grandeur and the squat legs gave it a curiously old fashioned appearance, rather like the cabinets of the Victorian period, but he didn't mind. If anything, it gave the device an air of respectability -- something Millie would trust, for he knew she was an old- fashioned girl at heart. The thought of Millie sent Stanley's mind racing and he sat down on the nearby bench to contemplate her. Millicent Anastasia Brown, his next-door neighbour. A trim girl of nineteen years...no, twenty. A shy, retiring girl who wore her clothes long to better hide her sleek limbs from lustful gaze. Stanley had never seen her limbs, but he had peeped at her trim ankles as she sat beside him from time to time, and he had seen the smooth pale skin of her wrists at the point they disappeared into the sleeves of whatever dress she was wearing. Her wrists and ankles were the stuff of his dreams, for they hinted at what lay beyond them. A long way beyond, it was true, but Stanley could envisage those forbidden treasures and although it seemed unlikely, he had resolved to possess them. The question was, how? Millie's mother was a formidable woman in both temperament and stature. Aside from her physical size, which was considerable, she was the owner of a sharp tongue and a pair of icy blue eyes that seemed to perceive every impure thought in his heart. The woman was always there when Stanley called on her daughter, so finding time alone with Millie was difficult enough: but when he did, he seemed so shy and tongue-tied that any progress towards intimacy was glacially slow. Stan groaned inwardly as he remembered the last time they had snatched a few moments together, sitting on the verandah of her house sipping lemonade. Millie looked especially delicious in a dress of white muslin with blue trimmings, her perfect little oval face peeping from beneath the chic beret and her eyes filled with life and laughter. Mrs. Brown -- Maude, although he could never call her that -- had retired inside for a few moments and he had seized the opportunity to tell the girl of his undying love. "Millie -" he started. He lifted his hand as if to seize hers, but it fluttered unbidden to his lap instead. "Yes Stanley?" She turned to look at him, those wondrous blue eyes windows into her soul. The words he had so carefully prepared fled in an instant to be replaced by an empty void. He stared at her silently. "Yes, Stanley?" she repeated at length. "I er...um...well, I - I wanted to tell you I hold you in high regard." Millie's face lit up in a smile of unimaginable beauty, and Stanley's mind twisted into an even tighter knot of confusion. He had planned to use simple language -- to tell her he was hopelessly in love with her, and he dreamed of her every night and every waking minute of each day. "Well, that's very kind of you Stanley," she said. "I hold you in similar regard. In fact - her eyelashes fluttered briefly -- "you are my very best friend." Stanley didn't want to be her friend. He wanted to kiss those full, rosy lips, to feel her hot breath against his cheek as he drew his tongue over the soft, white flesh of her neck. He wanted to lift those voluminous petticoats to bury his face between her ivory thighs -- to ravish her trembling body. He imagined the little gasps of pleasure she would emit with every long, trembling stroke into her soft, subservient core, and the words she would whisper, urging him on - "Stanley?" she was regarding him, her face creased in concern. "Are you all right?" "Yes, yes, Mille. I'm sorry...I just -- thought of something." "You turned quite red in the face." "I'm sorry. I was just thinking." He paused, his mind imaging the horror she would feel had she guessed his imaginings. "I was thinking...well, perhaps I might take you out one evening." His eyes flickered to hers for a moment, judging the impact of his words. "Perhaps to a show, or for a dinner somewhere? We could be home by eight, so it would not be late. Do you think your mother might agree?" Mille stared at the young man before her. She had seen that expression before: a longing for her as one might desire a puppy or an exquisite china doll of flawless porcelain. He was so shy and staid. Didn't he know that beneath this virginal dress her heart ached for someone to rescue her from the cloying life she led? To bring vitality and excitement to the long, dull days she spent under the suffocating presence of her mother? Clearly he did not, and she sighed inwardly. Stanley was the most eligible young man she knew, but he was so timid. "Well you should ask her, Stanley," she replied primly. A man who could not even stand up to her mother was hardly likely to bring the things she longed to do. "I -- uh, I will," he said, wretchedly. He could see she didn't like the idea of going out with him. Poor Millie. She was filled with virtuosity and he despaired of ever seeing her knees, yet alone the delicious little cleft he dreamed of each night. "I will ask her at the earliest opportunity." But he hadn't. Maude Brown had sailed out onto the verandah like a battleship and he had crept home not long after with a mumbled goodbye to Millie and an aching groin. He had not seen anything more that afternoon than he had at any other time, but just being near her was enough to fill him with lust. He had hurried back to the bathroom of his house and relieved himself, imagining the thick ropes of sperm leaping from the eye of his cock was hosing her insides instead of splattering in the basin before him. This state of affairs might have gone on forever but for a chance advertisement he had seen in the National Chronicle a few days later. It was a small column, lurking towards the back of the newspaper as if hiding, but the moment he saw it he knew his prayers might now be answered. He recalled its words: _ **Energy Accumulator for Sale!**_ A rare opportunity to own a custom machine to enrich your life. Guaranteed to improve your health, attract ladies and promote tenderness through potency. Apply to Dr. Wilhelm Reich, 71 Queens Avenue, New York... He had called Doctor Reich the following day and, having been assured it would do what he desired, he ordered the machine the next. It had consumed his entire savings but he thought it worth it. And now here it was, newly assembled and gleaming in his garage like a grand privy, ready to do its work. Stanley picked up the instruction manual and his eyes flicked over the description of his new machine, settling on the paragraph that most interested him: _The combination of organic and metal materials in the construction of your Accumulator is certain to harness the natural energy occurring in our atmosphere. Once captured, you can influence its purpose by means of the crystalline lining. You may choose, for example, to use the energy to cure an ailment, improve your well-being, or, most particularly, to influence both desire and potency in both the male and the feminine form._ The reference to influencing different things worried Stanley a little. He had searched the manual to discover how he might do this, but there was nothing at all to explain it. He understood the layers of metal and wood trapped the energy and the crystalline lining stored it, but how could it be directed? Perhaps the energy, once captured, would open some sort of connection? Perhaps it would infuse him, rather like alcohol, to further boost his potency. But he knew it was not _his_ desire that needed boosting, but Millie's -- and there was only one seat in the device. So how was he to persuade her to use it? And even if she did, how was the energy ever going to be strong enough to overcome her chaste upbringing? Stanley set the manual down on the workbench with a sinking feeling in his belly. He'd been confident when he bought the machine but now he saw there were still problems to be overcome, and he wasn't at all sure Millie would go anywhere near it if she knew its true purpose. He needed to think of a way to get her inside it, and once there, how to get inside her. *** Millicent Brown had been brought up chaste, that was for sure, but it did not stop her from being curious, and although her mother strictly forbade any mention of sex she had another ready source of information far more interesting -- from her friend, Nancy Philpott. Nan was the first of their group to be married and had produced a baby boy not long after, although everyone was too polite to point out the obvious. She was lonely because of it though, and sought out the company of her old friends at the Tea Room Café once a week. They had gathered there two weeks ago and conversation had soon turned to the subject of "doing it", amongst much giggling and blushing. Millie was there, of course, and Susan, who was anxious to hear if her mother's views were correct; and Lucy and a few others. "It hurts the first time," Nan had said in response to their question. "It's like -- well, trying to poke a rolling pin up your nose...you know, it brings tears to the eyes." She regarded the group around her. "But then you sort of get used to it and it gets easier. In fact -" "I don't think I'd ever get used to having a rolling pin up my nose." Lucy interrupted. She was the prettiest girl there, with big brown eyes and perfect lips but she was not the sharpest knife in the drawer. "Besides, where did he get it from and why on earth would he do such a thing?" Nan stared at her in astonishment. "It's just a way of trying to explain what it felt like, Luce," she said, "he didn't really have a rolling pin." "Oh!" the girl looked crestfallen. "So what did he have?" "Well, he had his _thing_...you know, although it looks about the size of a rolling pin when it's angry." She giggled briefly at the joke but stopped when she saw Lucy's confusion. "You do know about men's things?" she asked gently. "I...uh...well, I think so." Nan sighed. A year ago she had been like these girls, full of hope and bright- eyed anticipation, but she'd still fallen for oldest trick in the world. Billy had sworn he would pull out before cumming, and she'd believed him - and the thing was, she'd been brought up by liberal parents so should have understood the risks of mating. These girls didn't have a clue. "Perhaps I'd better start at the beginning," she said, and proceeded to tell them exactly who did what to whom. When she finished there was a stunned silence around the table. "Goodness!" Susan said at last. "That's not what my mother told me." "Nor mine," piped up Jennifer. She was a tiny girl with an elfin face and the two words she'd just uttered were more than anybody had heard her speak before. "Well, I can assure you it's true," Nan said primly. "And I have the proof -" she waved her hand at the infant sleeping beside her. "Little Henry there definitely wasn't brought by a stork -- and neither will the next one." "You mean you plan to do it again? Lucy was aghast. "I would have thought once was enough for anybody." Nan laughed. "Once you've done it once, it's lovely," she said, "like playing with your own Flossie but ten times better. And if you want to hang on to your man you'd better let him do it often, or he'll go looking elsewhere." "But what about babies?" Millie asked. "I mean, you did it once Nan, and next thing you're expecting." "Yes, well, it's a problem if you're not careful," Nancy said, "but you can do things to prevent them, you know." "Really?" Millie was intrigued. Nan nodded. "You can wait until your cycle, or get sheaths that the men put on their things. They're not easy to buy in this town but I know a place you can send away for them." She regarded her friend quizzically. "You're not thinking of doing it with someone, are you?" The girl blushed. "Oh, no! Well, not yet. But I would like to know where to get them...you know, just in case I ever -" she stopped suddenly, aware of the sea of incredulous faces around the table. "Well, it's better to be prepared than sorry," she said defensively. "You're quite right, Millie." Nan plucked a napkin off the table and scribbled on it for a moment. "Here's the address. They are eighty cents for a packet of five, but you shouldn't keep them for too long as the rubber perishes." She laughed lightly. "I would let you have one of Billy's, but we need them." That night Millie carefully wrote two letters, which she posted in a nearby mailbox whilst her mother was having her afternoon nap. The first was to the address Nan had given her. The second was to a bookshop she'd read about in a racy magazine she'd found at school. * Harold Parsons, the owner of the little post office shop on the corner of Bellevue Street, looked up as the bell above the door tinkled. He was a thin, middle aged man with thinning hair and a grey complexion. His mouth turned down at the edges, which, together with an angular face and prolific eyebrows gave him a disagreeable expression, rather like a disgruntled horse - but there was nothing wrong with his eyesight and he enjoyed the sight of a pretty girl as much as any man. The one approaching him now was all of that and more, and he watched her intently as she crossed the floor to the counter. "Um, is there any mail for me, Mr. Parsons?" she asked demurely. "I'm not sure, Millie. Were you expecting any?" "I am. Two articles, in fact." Harold turned to the shelf behind him and shuffled though the pigeonhole under the letter 'B'. Millie had been coming into the store for most of her life but he could never remember her looking so alluring, and he spent a few moments imagining what he would do to her if he had the chance. At length, he turned back with a small envelope of brown paper. "I have one here, Millie, and a note to say the other is in the packing room if you would wait one moment." The girl took the proffered package as if it contained a snake. She had no idea what a condom looked like, but she was acutely aware it was associated with what her mother described as ruination. Beneath the lace camisole she could feel her heart fluttering with the excitement of flirting with the forbidden. "And here is the other one," Harold said. He set a larger package down on the counter and regarded the blushing girl before him. "I must say, Millie, I find it strange you have packages delivered here rather than to your home." "They are for mother's birthday next month," Millie replied primly, glad she'd anticipated the question. "I didn't want to spoil the surprise, Mr. Parsons. You won't tell her I got them, will you?" Harold Parsons stared into the cornflower blue eyes shining up at him and his resolve to speak sternly about wasting the Post Office's time fled in an instant. "Uh...no, no...not at all, Millie, if that's what you want," he stammered, "any time you want to send mail here, you just do it, d'hear?" The girl smiled into his face. "It's very sweet of you, Mr. Parsons." She picked up the second parcel and tucked it under her arm. "You have a nice day then." Harold watched her trim little body as she walked to the door and the thought struck him he could have a really nice day indeed if only she would share it with him. * Maude Brown was by nature loud, self-opinionated and hypocritical. The first two faults were obvious, since she wasted no opportunity in expressing exactly what she thought with the subtlety of a small cannon. The third was not so apparent as she took care to conceal her actions when they were contrary to what she preached. She was practicing hypocrisy now as she ate the rampant cock of Roger Smith, a travelling salesman. They had only recently met but she had instantly recognised his type: married, but with a loose eye for women and confidence in his ability to pleasure them. She was also sure his name was not Roger Smith, but it didn't matter. She had no desire to broaden the relationship beyond the casual sex they both craved and couldn't have cared less what his real name was. The fact that she constantly told her daughter relationships outside the sanctity of marriage were evil did not curb her enthusiasm, and she sucked the stiff organ with energy. His rod seemed to have grown even bigger and she contemplated whether to allow him to insert it inside her -- but it was her fertile time of the month. Besides, she always liked to test a man's emissions before she decided to let him go further or not. The man suddenly grasped her head and began to thrust into her mouth. The head of his cock blocked her airway, but experience had taught her it would soon be over. Indeed, the noises he was making suggested he was very close and so she clung to his thighs and weathered the storm, delighting in the slippery ooze dribbling from her lips. His balls, encased in a baggy scrotum somewhat larger than she had ever seen, banged against her chin with soggy thumps and the sense of being used like a cheap whore filled her with lust. She wanted to tell him she was ready to take his load, to feel it blasting into her cheeks in long salty jets before she swallowed it all. But she could not speak for her mouth was full, and so she thought instead of how she would lecture her daughter later that day on the dangers of loose morals, all the time remembering the taste of clotted sperm splashing on her tongue and the thought it lay in a milky puddle in her belly even as she spoke. "I'm cumming!" the man said at last. His voice was thick with lust, barely more than a grunt as the delicious sensation seized his senses. He grasped her hair to restrain her further and thrust for a final time as deeply as he could. "I'm -- ah, Jesus! Here it comes..." For a second he was motionless, his rod buried deep into her face, and then Maude felt it jerk as the first jet hosed into her throat. It was followed almost immediately by another, and then a third. Her mouth was instantly filled with the pungent flavour of his sperm, and she felt her cheeks distending with the volume of his emission. She tried to pull back but he held her tightly, whilst his cock jolted and twitched until his seed oozed from between her lips to hang in slimy strands. At last he released her head and Maude pulled backwards quickly, her gullet filled with his cum. It was thick and glutinous and she could hardly breathe, and she coughed violently in an effort to catch her breath. A spray of jism burst from her lips and the man stood back and laughed. "You prick!" she managed at last. Tears were streaming down her face and a trickle of sperm leaked from her nostrils to join the dangling gobs on her chin. "I thought you'd choke me." "I did with the last one, love," he said, "and I had to fuck her tight little cunnie to get her heart going again." He laughed again. "Would you like me to do the same to you?" Maude regarded his organ like a mongoose might observe a snake. It had been a few weeks since she'd last been serviced and she was very horny, and the bulbous purple head bobbing in front of her promised a great deal of pleasure, despite the risk. She nodded quickly, a tight ball of excitement in her belly at the thought of being ravaged. "All right, but don't cum in me." "I won't." "I mean it." Maude reached under her petticoats and slid her undergarments down her ample thighs. "I don't want another little brat." "I won't Love. Honest...I'll be as good as gold." "All right." She lay back on the bed. "How do you want to do it?" "Every way," he said, "but we'll start just as you are." In a moment his trousers were down and he climbed aboard in gleeful anticipation. ***** "I have a favour to ask, Mother." They were sitting at the dining room table and, observing her mother was in an unusually good mood, Millie sought to take advantage of it. "Yes, Millie. What is it?" "Well, Stanley -- Mr. Greenhough -- has asked if I might go to the theatre with him one evening, and I wondered if -" "Of course, my dear." "Really? I thought you didn't like him." Maude laughed -- a short snorting noise devoid of humour. Stanley Greenhough was, in her opinion, the most boring young man she'd ever met but at least he had no lustful thoughts towards her daughter. In truth she couldn't imagine him having any lustful thoughts at all, which was just fine by her. She remembered Roger Smith's cock burrowing into her channel that afternoon, forcing aside the sucking embrace of her tight little tube. Despite his nondescript appearance he'd turned out to be the best lover ever, and her toes curled at the thought of how long and how hard he'd fucked her. No, Stanley wasn't cut from that cloth at all. "Oh, no Millie," she said, "I think he is a very nice young man, and I feel sure he will look after you." "Well, thank you Mother," the girl smiled. It was unusual to see her so well disposed and she wondered what had caused it. Still, it had presented an opportunity and she was glad to have unwittingly seized it. She wasted no time in slipping on her hat, and walking briskly around to Stanley's house. She knew he was next door as she heard energetic hammering from the garage, which was another reason to call to see what he was doing. Stanley opened the door at the third ring and his eyes widened as he perceived Millie Brown standing on his doorstep. She was looking utterly delectable in a dress of power blue with lace trimmings, and her face was shining with excitement. "Stanley, I have something to tell you," she said. Her eyes dropped involuntarily to his crotch to see if there was any sign of what Nancy Philpott had described. "What is it Millie?" He could not remember a time when she had stood alone on his doorstep and imagined it could only be bad news. "My mother has agreed we might go out together -- that is, if you would like to." A stain of embarrassment spread across the girl's face as she realised Stanley would have seen where she was looking. "Uh...well, that's nice." Millie gathered her composure and regarded him with exasperation. "Is that all you can say, Stan Greenhough?" "Well, I mean it is amazing news, Millie. I was just taken back a little because I never thought your mother would agree." "Neither did I," the girl acknowledged, "but she did. She was in an uncommonly good mood this afternoon, I must say. So, when shall we go out together?" Stanley's eyes fastened on her throat, just above the button of her blouse. In the soft evening light her neck was a pale cream, and he fancied he could see the beat of her pulse in it as she stood smiling up at him. He was mesmerized by the tiny movement, aware it was her heart causing it -- the same heart he must capture if he was to possess her. He felt the familiar surge of lust, a keen knowledge he'd much rather go _into_ her than out with her. Perhaps he could persuade her to see his machine first, and sit in it with him. And if it did what Wilhelm Reich had said it would, the only place he would take her was to his bed. "Well, how about Saturday, Millie?" he replied, "I could fetch you from your house at say, seven o'clock?" "Oh, yes! I'll be waiting for you." "Perhaps you could spend a few minutes in my workshop before you leave?" he continued smoothly. "I have something to show you." Millie glanced at her mother's house across the fence, but there was no sign of her. Normally she would have expressly forbidden the girl to enter any man's house, but she was not there to see and besides, had she not just given her permission to spend an evening with him? She nodded enthusiastically. "Of course. I'm sure it will be very interesting." She entered the hallway behind him, pleasantly surprised at the order and neatness of what she saw. The hallway was bright and clean with pictures hung evenly on its walls, whilst to the right the drawing room was furnished tastefully. He led her to the back of the house and turned left before entering the garage. Surprisingly, it was lit by the new electrical lamps she had read about, whilst her own house still relied on gaslight. They illuminated every corner of the space which was filled with shelves upon which were stored all manner of things: books and tools and boxes filled with papers, and many pieces of machinery whose purpose was unclear to her. But it was the item in the centre of the room that caught her attention: a hexagonal cabinet of mahogany or some other rare timber that glowed richly under the overhead lights. It stood taller than she did and was trimmed with walnut panels and what she supposed was gold leaf, giving it a somewhat regal appearance. "This is what I have been working on, Millie." Stanley stood aside to afford the girl a better view. She approached the cabinet, perceiving it was not gold but fine strips of brass joining the vertical edges. Still, it was an impressive sight, made more so by the nameplate fastened above the door. She stepped closer to read the inscription: _'Accumulator No. 004. Dr. Wilhelm Reich Company Limited, New York."_ The door to the cabinet was open and Millie glanced inside, noting the metal lining and the partially constructed bench spanning the device. It was clear it was a modification, as it was of a different material and she could see offcuts on the floor where he had trimmed the timber to length, but the workmanship was good. Other than that, there was nothing inside. "It is amazing, Stanley," she said with feeling. "It is an Orgone Accumulator,' he continued. His voice was tight with excitement and she glanced at him curiously. "You need to sit in it with another person." Millie turned back toward the machine and rested her hands on the gleaming surface. The wood was tactile and she leaned forward impulsively and rested her forehead against it. For a second she thought it was emitting its own source of warmth, but then realised it was probably just heat from the overhead lighting. "It's warm," she said, "and beautiful. What is it for?" "It promotes well-being and health," Stanley said. He thought she'd never looked so alluring, and was desperately thinking of how he might lure her into the machine. He opened his mouth to ask but found his throat as dry as dust, and had to swallow several times before he could continue. "Why don't you step inside," he croaked at last, "and tell me what you think." Millie lifted one dainty foot to step over the threshold, glancing again at Stanley's face as she did so. His normal expression had been stripped away, replaced by one of malevolent intensity in his dark eyes. She was reminded of how a hawk might look as it fell upon unsuspecting prey, or perhaps a spider as it gleefully embalmed the corpse of a fly. "Go on," he urged, "go on, Millie. Step inside...yes, yes, just a little further." Millie stopped. There was something going on here she did not understand and the peculiar expression on Stanley's face only confirmed her unease. She lifted her hand from the structure and rubbed it briefly on her skirt, but the curious warmth imparted by the wood was still there, adding to her uncertainty. "Not now, Stanley, I have to go," she said. "I'll see you on Saturday then." Millie hurried back to her bedroom. The warmth had spread through her body and she felt feverish and flustered, but could not say why. She closed the door and lay on the bed, wondering if it had indeed been the machine that caused it, or because she'd been alone with Stanley for the first time. She remembered the look on his face, of hungry anticipation. It suddenly reminded her of a picture in the book she had bought. The thought startled her and she quickly reached under the mattress and extracted it. The content was racier than she could ever have imagined, for it showed in pictures what Nancy Philpott had described in words: the act of coupling between a man and a woman, in various positions. At first glance she'd been shocked and had quickly closed it, but now the memory of Stanley's expression caused her to have a closer look and she did so with quickening breath. Millie carefully examined the first pictures, showing a muscular young man pleasuring a virginal young maiden. In the first the man crouched over her, his body lean and naked whilst hers was shrouded in a thin gown. She was looking over her shoulder at his face, her eyes wide in surprise and shock as if he had suddenly appeared before her. His organ was exposed, thick and rampant and capped with a plum-shaped head the size of a small apple. The man's expression was one of carnal lust, just as she had seen on Stanley's face. But it was the remaining two pictures that fascinated Millie, for it illustrated just how the act of mating was done: the girl crouching, her arms pressed to a blanket cast carelessly on the floor, and he kneeling behind her, the head of his... _thing_ pressed into the crevice between her legs. The angle of the camera showed it had half disappeared into her body and the lips of her cunny were grasping the shaft tightly. She was smiling back at him, so the act was obviously pleasurable, and this pleased Millie as despite what Nan had said she suspected mating was a painful and messy business. But then again, perhaps it was not a smile but a grimace of pain, for she could see for herself his organ was very thick and she knew from experience how tight the channel of a young girl was. The final picture was of the girl beneath him, her legs raised over his back. It was taken from somewhere near his feet and Millie could see the taut cheeks of his bottom, and his sack pressed hard against her soft flesh. He was completely immersed in her, to the extent very little of his organ was visible. Millie studied the image intently to better observe the detail that interested her. She could see a gleam of moisture painting the girl's skin at the point of their union, almost as if he had kissed her there; or perhaps it was a feminine ooze such as she leaked when her own fingers stole to her privates in the moments before sleep. She had felt it again as she hurried home from Stanley's house: a pleasant warmth suffusing her groin and a wetness seeping into her undergarments. The urge to touch herself became overwhelming and she quickly checked the door was locked before lifting her petticoats to lie on the bed. Her cunny was wetter than she could ever remember and her fingers slipped easily between the soft outer lips. She sighed contentedly and rested her eyes on the fourth image as she gently played with herself. She observed the man's muscular buttocks and his powerful thighs, in stark contrast to the limbs of the girl beneath him. She saw how slight she was, her slender legs splayed open as if she had been flung onto the blankets to await his desire. It suddenly occurred to her the girl was being taken against her will. She thought aroused her and she quickly imagined how the scenario had developed: the maiden at home, perhaps sewing or reading quietly, unaware a farm labourer had been watching her, following; waiting until she was alone. The brief struggle before he pinned her to the floor, the tearing of clothes, the resignation on the girl's face. Millie saw she was young, for the breast peeping from the open camisole was small, barely more than a pubescent mound, and the nipple tiny. He was heavily muscled and it would not have been much of a contest -- and so she lay quiescent beneath him, her eyes closed as the felt the hardness of his organ nudging her, waiting with trepidation for the inevitable to happen. And as her fingers played with her sex, Millie wondered if the man would be as hard if it were _she_ who was lying beneath him, her pale loins exposed and her heart beating in apprehension. Would it hurt the first time? Would she scream as he plunged the thick, throbbing sword into her tiny opening? His organ was certainly long enough to reach up to somewhere behind her belly button. What was it like to have such a thing inserted so far inside you, a living, throbbing staff of thick flesh skewering you like a harpooned fish? Another wave of heat enveloped her and she rose quickly to the dresser to seize her wooden hairbrush. She had used the rounded end to tease herself before, but never to slide in deeply. But now the book had clearly indicated a girl's cunnie _could_ take such an object, and so she resolved to try. The end of the handle was thicker than his shaft and it soon became clear it would not enter. Millie pressed it harder, feeling a twinge of pain, but it resolutely remained outside her body and so she simply rubbed it against her for a while, enjoying the feeling of the polished wood against her sensitive flesh. In the quiet of the room she could hear the small sucking sounds it made and this aroused her further. But she still felt curiously empty, and so she withdrew the brush and examined its handle. It didn't look too big -- certainly it was shorter than the man's erect organ in her book. She saw too its girth was reasonable; so how was it he could bury his thing fully into the girl's body, when she could not insert this handle into hers? Millie replaced the brush against her pussy and gripped it with both hands, like a Seppuku sword poised for the final stroke. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply for a moment, the breath whistling between her lips, and then she drew both hands sharply towards her. For an instant there was resistance, and then a sudden feeling of something tearing. The handle sank deeply into her body until its rim reached her vulva, and a stab of pain as sharp as a blade skewered though her loins. She gasped with the intensity of it, her hands gripping the offending object like claws, and her eyes filled with tears. For a few seconds she was terrified the brush had damaged her, and then she remembered Nan's words: _"You have to pop your cherry, girls, and it might hurt a bit -- but once it's gone you'll love the feeling!"_ Millie hadn't actually understood what 'popping your cherry' meant, but as she lay there with the handle buried deep in her throbbing sex she thought she understood; and so she rested quietly for a while, waiting for the discomfort to end. At length the pain diminished to a dull ache and Millie tentatively moved the handle back and forth a little. The feeling of discomfort receded and a sensation of warmth and fullness replaced it. She could see herself in the dresser's mirror, her dress scrunched up around her hips and her lower body exposed. _I look just like the girl,_ she thought, _being ravaged like a common harlot. Look at me, with my thighs spread!_ They were slim and as pale as alabaster, each a study in perfection; and at their juncture she saw her busy hands and the furled lips of her cunny, soft and pink; and the brush thrusting back and forth between them in cadence with the soft, wet sounds in her ears. She closed her eyes and the mirror's reflection was replaced by the man in the book. He was stood at the foot of her bed, gazing down with an expression of unbridled love on his face, and he held his rampant cock with one hand. It was large, its head suffused a deep purple. He toyed with it idly and she saw with a shiver of delight that moisture was oozing from its little eye, drooling downward in a silver thread to touch her naked belly. And then he was crouching over her, whispering for her to lift her thighs, smiling and nodding in encouragement. With eager hands he helped her, raising her legs further still, t

ucking them behind her arms so she was almost folded double. She felt open, vulnerable, the shell-pink lips of her privates furled back and shining with moisture. She saw his expression of delight as he climbed over her, felt his breath upon her cheek and a moment later the silken touch of his organ against the trembling lips of her sex. The image was enough to trip her over the edge and her orgasm burst in her brain like a super nova. It was sharper than any she had had before: a monstrous wave of almost unbearable pleasure bent her body like a bow, each muscle in her arms and back and legs like a steel cable. Afterwards, Millie lay on the bed to catch her breath, her fingers playing idly with the thick wet lips of her sex. It had been the most intense climax she'd ever had, and she could still feel the last vestiges of it. But it had been disturbing too, for the face that filled her mind as she reached the very pinnacle of her pleasure had not been of the man in the book, but that of Stanley Greenhough, his eyes glinting as he plunged his rampant cock inside her. **** Laura Robinson peered through her thick lenses as a blurred figure approaching her desk. She was the county librarian, an irony that didn't escape the local people as she was almost blind, but she was good at her job and, despite her severe appearance, was generally helpful. Eventually the fuzzy outline swam into focus and she recognised Millicent Brown, one of her favourite students from her teaching days. The girl reached her a moment later and smiled warmly. "Good morning Mrs Robinson." "Good morning Millie. I didn't expect to see you here on a Saturday morning." "I have a small matter I need to research before tonight," the girl said, "and I wondered if you might help me. I want to find out all I can about a Doctor Wilhelm Reich." "Weren't you in here last week on the same task?" "I was, but didn't find much. I was hoping you might guide me." Mrs. Robinson smiled. "Of course I will, Millie. Now, is this Doctor of yours alive, or dead?" "Alive, I think. At least he was recently -- and I think he lives in New York." "And what sort of Doctor is he?" Millie shrugged her shoulders, but then remembered the woman probably couldn't see her very well. "I don't know, Mrs. Robinson, but he has patented a machine that is to do with physics, or perhaps health." The woman nodded. "Well, I'd suggest you look in _Who's Who_ to start with, and then perhaps the Encyclopaedias. If you can remember the name of his machine we might find something in the papers, too." By the end of the morning Millie knew as much about Dr. Reich as anyone. He'd emigrated to New York a year or two earlier, and the papers of the time were full of his controversial theories about sexuality. But one article interested Millie in particular: _'Shortly after arriving in America, Doctor Reich coined the term "orgone"— derived from the word "orgasm" and "organism". It referred to a biological energy he reportedly had discovered. In 1940 he started building Orgone Accumulators, devices his patients sat inside to harness the reputed health benefits of Orgone...'_ Millie spent another hour or so researching Orgone, but was unable to find much other than it was something the Doctor said occurred naturally in the atmosphere, which promoted health and well-being. But most of her research disputed it -- indeed, they went as far to say Reich was a fraud and there was no such thing as Orgone, yet alone the ability to concentrate it. She sat back in the quiet of the library and thought about it. Why had Stanley Greenhough invested so much money to buy an Accumulator, if there was doubt about it? Clearly he believed the stories of what it could do, but he did not strike Millie as a person obsessed with health. He was neat and tidy and ordered in his way, but she'd never seen him trying to keep fit and he'd never mentioned well-being before, so she doubted it was for that. No, it was for some other purpose. Her eyes fell on the final newspaper cutting before her, extracted from the New York Times a year earlier. It was titled _'The Strange Machines of Wilhelm Reich'_ and went on to say: _'...most of the men who purchased Doctor Reich's Accumulators admit they hope to harness sexual energy, rather than any other natural force. In that regard, these machines should be considered dangerous as, if they work, they encourage men to be sexual predators, and entice unwitting young ladies into lives of depraved promiscuity.'_ Suddenly, Millie clearly understood Stanley's reason for buying such an extravagant device. Everything made sense: his persistence in calling on her, the construction of a bench seat in the device to replace the single chair, and, just yesterday, the peculiar expression on his face as he urged her to step inside it. Stanley Greenhough wanted to have his way with her, and was prepared to spend big money to do so. Millie felt a familiar flush seep through her lower body, and she glanced furtively around the library to see if anyone had noticed. But there was only Mrs Robinson there, her glasses glinting in the overhead lights, and the girl knew if she stripped stark naked the old woman wouldn't see her -- and so she leaned back in her chair and luxuriated in the sensation, thinking of how she could use Stanley's plot to her advantage. * At precisely seven the following Saturday Stanley Greenhough stood on his neighbour's step, clasping a bunch of flowers and a small box of chocolates. He paused a moment to gather courage before ringing the doorbell. After a minute or two there was the sound of the key turning and the door was flung open to reveal the formidable bulk of Maude Brown. "Oh, it's you, Stanley," she observed. The tone of her voice suggested a rodent would have been more welcome. Stanley removed his hat and thrust the flowers towards her. "Good evening, Mrs. Brown. I'm here to escort Millicent to dinner, but these are for you." He regarded her briefly, noting the floral dress he'd never seen before, and a new hair style. He thought she looked like a badly stuffed sofa but kept the image to himself. "And might I say you look very alluring tonight, if you don't mind me saying so." Maude took the flowers in some astonishment, as it was the longest sentence she had heard him utter. She was in a good mood, as Roger Smith was due to call not long after her daughter left and she was looking forward to some vigourous fucking. "Well, that's very civil of you, young Stanley," she said. Perhaps there was more to him than she had supposed. "Millicent will be down directly -- and I expect you to look after her." "I will. Um -- do you want her home by any particular time?" "I have a guest calling on me, but I will be free by ten. Make sure my daughter is here by then. Do you have a car?" "I do." "Very well." She turned at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. "Ah, here she is, although I must say I don't approve of her dress.' Millie appeared a moment later. The long, constraining dresses she normally favoured had given way to a tailored skirt in olive green flaring enticingly from the tiny waist to just above her knees. Her legs were every bit as amazing as he had imagined, with trim calves of exactly the right shape, sweeping down to slim ankles housed in a pair of high heels in the same shade of green. The skirt swirled about her knees as she walked and Stanley could even see glimpses of the satin skin of her thighs, so long dreamed about. But there was more, for she wore a tailored jacket pinched at the waist. It was short-sleeved, with a wide collar of white, revealing not only her arms but the graceful column of her neck upon which was perched that perfect little head. She'd trimmed her hair too, and it curled softly about her ears, set off by a little green beret pulled jauntily over one ear. For a moment Stanley stood speechless at the sight of this stunning young woman, his heart racing. He'd wanted to possess her before, but now it was imperative. Even the sight of her caused his cock to stir in his pants, and he could only imagine how hard it would grow if only he could uncover more of her. "Good evening, Stanley," she said. Was it his imagination or did her voice sound different too? Perhaps a shade lower and even more enticing, if it were possible. "Millie." His mouth was dry and he licked his lips and swallowed quickly. "Millie -- you look...amazing. I love the new dress." He could see Maude Brown glowering at him, but he didn't care. "And your hair, too. It is altogether beguiling." Millie smiled demurely. What he couldn't see was the new underwear she had bought, moving sensuously over her privates. Even its silky caress made her feel special, and gave a heightened awareness of her body. He escorted her down to the car, fussing as she climbed into the front seat. It afforded him a brief glimpse of one thigh well above the knee, and he felt the pressure in his trousers increase. He started the engine and glanced again at the delectable young thing beside him, praying silently the evening would go as he hoped. "I have been a little naughty, Stanley," she announced, "being as it is our first time out together. Mother doesn't know but I brought a little something to celebrate...do you think we could stop at your house first?" "You mean now? I've booked our restaurant for seven thirty and we would be late." "I'm sure the silly old restaurant can wait just a bit," she pouted. "Don't you want to have a little drink with me?" She glanced back at the house, seeing her mother on the verandah watching them. "But don't turn directly into your house -- go around the block and come from the other way." Stanley swung the wheel of the car over and they shot around the corner as if rocket propelled. He drew up outside his garage with a squeal of brakes and he hurried around to help the girl from her seat. "I have a little surprise too, Millie," he said. "Would you allow me to blindfold you?" He led her carefully into the garage and untied the handkerchief from her eyes. Millie gasped softly: the clutter and mess of his workshop was gone and it was filled with flowers, each bunch seemingly larger than the first. Even the lighting had been subdued, and a strip of carpet led to the open door of the Accumulator. He hurried away to fetch two glasses and Millie took the opportunity to check her lipstick and hair. Her heart was hammering in her chest: _thump, thump, thump,_ and there were butterflies in her stomach. She hoped tonight she was to lose her virginity, but was not sure if she would like it, or even if Stanley was capable. She remembered the dire warnings of her mother too, who preached that being alone with a man would lead to ruination; and of Nancy Philpott's advice against allowing a man's emissions into her body. For a few seconds her resolve waivered -- perhaps it was not the right time. Perhaps she should get to know Stanley better, or even find someone who was more experienced. Her thoughts were interrupted by Stanley clutching two champagne flutes. His face was flustered and her heart sank further. He didn't look like a man who would lead her on this adventure, and she wasn't at all sure she should go on it. Still, the bottle was open and there was no harm in drinking a glass and sitting in his expensive toy. They settled on the bench, squeezed tightly together, and Stanley closed the door. There were no windows and only one small light casting a weak yellow glow on the metal walls. He touched her glass with his. "Well, here's to us, Millie!" Millie sipped the champagne. She'd never tasted it before, and the fact it was alcoholic and she'd stolen it from her Mother's cellar made it doubly exciting. The taste was crisp and exhilarating, and she quickly drank half her glass to settle her nervousness. She wondered if Stanley would kiss her but he simply sat next to her without talking. "Tell me again what this machine does,' Millie asked. "It -- er, well, promotes health,' he said vaguely. "Can you feel anything?" "I'm not sure." She took a few more sips of her drink and held out the glass. "This champagne is nice, don't you think?" Stanley nodded and carefully filled her glass to the brim, watching as she drained it. He didn't want to talk about French champagne -- he wanted her to take off the little bodice to reveal her tits. They were quiet for a few moments. It was quickly becoming hot in the cabinet and Millie thought that even if the device worked, people inside it would suffocate before they could become amorous. She rested her hand on the lining but there was no sense of anything other than the warm metal surface. The alcohol gave her a pleasant buzz though, and emboldened her. "You know, Stanley, I believe I can feel a vibration in this machine," she said deviously. "Can you feel it?" He placed his fingers on the metal but could feel nothing. "Why yes, Millie," he said, "it is buzzing. I think it's the energy Dr. Reich said we would feel." "And what will it do to us?" "It will make us hot, I think." He was right about that - it was stifling. "And liberate our feelings," she added. "It is indeed hot, Stanley. Would you mind if I took off my jacket?" "No, no," he croaked. His cock, which had subsided to a state of tumescence, suddenly sprang to attention. Millie unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it off with difficulty. There was so little room, and nowhere to hang it. She dropped it on the floor. "And what about you?" she prompted, "aren't you hot too?" He struggled out of his jacket and sat for a moment, desperately trying to think of something to say but he was paralysed by the proximity of the girl and the speed of what was happening. "You know, Stanley," Millie said at length, "although we have known each other for a while, you've never kissed me. Do you think we might try it now?" Stanley leaned towards her and pursed his lips in what he thought was a kiss. They touched hers and his cock instantly became even harder as he tasted her for the first time. He could smell her too -- the soft alluring scent her perfume, overlaid by a more subtle aroma he could not identify, but which was exciting. Millie had never kissed a man but she instinctively knew there was more to be had than the unresponsive press of Stanley's mouth on hers. She opened her lips slightly and allowed the tip of her tongue to brush against his. His breath was hot against her mouth and she experienced a surge of passion that emboldened her further. The memory of yesterday's session with her hairbrush suddenly entered her mind: the soft, wet lips of her sex clinging to the polished intruder, the gleam of her juices smeared over the handle, the feeling of fullness as it slid inside her body. She recalled too how hard her nipples had become -- swollen little nubs of flesh much like they were now. If only Stanley would touch them, but he seemed unable to understand what she wanted. She lifted her face from his. "It is altogether too hot in here," she said, undoing the top two buttons of her blouse. Stanley's eyes locked onto the delicious crease between her breasts like gun barrels onto a target, he didn't touch them and Millie groaned softly at his timidity. "You can hold them if you like, just to see how hot they are," she said, "if you want to." Stanley lifted his hands and grasped each breast. The movement dislodged another button and he stared at the wondrous globes before him, encased in a strapless bra. It was unable to fully constrain her nipples, which poked deliciously against the silky fabric. "Still too hot," Millie muttered. She prised his hands from her tits and skilfully removed the bra, exposing herself to his incredulous gaze. They were, Stanley thought, the most amazing set of breasts he had ever seen -- neither too big nor too small. Each one fitted into his hand as if it had been fashioned for the purpose, and their texture was perfect. He rubbed them and gently pinched each nipple between forefinger and thumb, delighting in their hardness and rubbery texture. Millie bent forward and locked her mouth on his again. Kissing somehow seemed even nicer when his hands were on his breasts. It sent tingles of electricity up and down her body, making her tongue even more sensitive and the lips of her sex thicker. In fact, there seemed to be a direct connection between her pussy and her mouth, as kissing certainly added to her feeling of desire. _I want him to mount me,_ she suddenly thought. _Just like the pictures in the book. I want to feel what it's like to have someone else inside me._ But there was the problem of babies. She remembered all too well Nancy's warning; but the condoms she'd bought were still under her mattress at home. Clearly, they weren't going to be much use there, so she needed to be resourceful -- but just how _did_ a man come to release his seed, and how long would it take? And how could she ask him without sounding stupid? In any case, it seemed Stanley didn't know much more than her - he certainly hadn't shown much initiative so far, as each step forward had been like pulling teeth. "Stanley," she said carefully, "do you mind if I ask you something?" "Not at all, Millie." He would have crawled over broken glass if she wanted. "I've never seen a man's...thing," she whispered. "You know -- your, um, prick. Do you think I might see it?" He nodded enthusiastically and tore at the buttons, wriggling his trousers over his hips and pulling aside his briefs. His cock sprang out, as thick and as hard as he could ever remember, and he heard the girl gasp softly. "Oh, my," she said. "Doesn't that hurt? It looks so...swollen." "It doesn't hurt a bit -- it feels lovely. Would you like to touch it?" Millie grasped the rod of flesh, astonished at the heat of the turgid flesh under her fingers. It was also surprisingly rigid, but lacked the unbending brittleness of an inanimate object. "It's amazing," she whispered. "It sort of feels really hard, but not like a -" she bit her lip before the word came out: _hairbrush._ He must never know about that. "I mean, it's not hard like a stick, but it's still very stiff." She bent her head towards it, observing the bead of moisture at the eye. "And what is that? Is it your seed?" Stanley observed the girl's perfect little face moving towards his organ, her lips moving as she spoke. If only she would open her mouth and take him inside it! Just the thought caused another dribble of lubricant to ooze from the head. "No, no, it's not seed," he said, "it's just something that comes out when it's excited. You know, just to begin with." "And when will your seed come out?" At last Millie felt she was getting somewhere. "When it's ready," Stanley croaked. He was having difficulty keeping the thread of the conversation as he could feel her breath on the head of his cock, whisper soft. "Um, you know...it comes out when it is inside a woman...or -" he could hardly dare to say it - "...or...in her mouth." "Really?" Millie was startled by the revelation. "You mean, if I put it in my mouth your seed would come out?" She saw him nod. "And how long would it take?" "Not long," he croaked. The way things were going it would be about three seconds. Millie considered for a moment. She knew she could get pregnant if Stanley's seed entered her body, but what about her mouth? Did that count? Surely not, if she were to spit it out before allowing it to enter her belly. She tried to remember what Nancy had told her about her monthly cycles and how it might protect her, but she couldn't recall. It had been two weeks since her last one though, so it was worth the risk even if she didn't know quite what to expect. "Well, you just let me know when you think it is about to happen." Millie said, and she parted her lips and took the head inside her mouth. Afterwards, Stanley would remember it as a defining moment in his life. He'd wanted Millicent Brown for as long as he could remember. He'd watched her grow ever more beautiful every day, and each time he saw her she seemed even more unobtainable. How could he expect such an incredible creature, with her prim morals and shy ways, to even contemplate doing the things he longed for? But here she was, bent over in the hot, stuffy little cubicle with her lips around his organ. Just the thought of it was enough to make him cum, yet alone the feeling of those loose, wet lips, sliding back and forth with just the right pressure and cadence. His balls were twitching, preparing to pump his load, but the tightness of her hand on the base of his cock was enough to stem the urge. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to think of something else. But the sensation of Millie's hot, wet lips was irresistible. His cock felt huge -- bigger than he'd ever known it -- the skin on the glans stretched as tight as a drum and exquisitely sensitive. Little drools of lubricant were oozing from its eye into her mouth, mixing with her saliva to ease its passage back and forth. That his fluid was entering this exquisite creature was amazing, but he could only see the back of her head moving up and down gently. He placed his hands on the damp golden curls and turned her head slightly, allowing a quarter profile of her face: the curve of a cheek, the indentation of an eye socket; the corner of her mouth, the scarlet splashes of fingernails wrapped around the stem... and then, gloriously, as she turned even more, the sight of his shaft sliding languorously into her mouth...Millie's mouth. Between those, soft, full lips. Right into the glorious, delicious, beautiful throat he'd lusted after for months. And then he felt her tongue. It had been passive but the change of angle allowed her to push it against the head of his cock at each inward stroke. It forced the knob against the roof of her mouth, against those little ridges on the soft, wet palate, and in a sudden rush he knew he could hold back no longer. Millie heard Stanley's soft moans of pleasure and felt the fluttering of his fingers in her hair and she was filled with a surge of empowerment. She suddenly understood the extent of her control, not just over Stanley but over any other men too. She realised now the meaning of the looks men had given her. She'd thought it was because she was attractive, but now she understood they were lustful looks: wishing they could take her, to ravish her ripe, golden body, to spurt their seed into her grasping little slot. But knowledge gave control. Beneath her restless lips, Stanley was as helpless as a mewling infant at its mother's breast. His body was rigid, just like the shaft plunging into her mouth. It tasted oily and salty at the same time, and it there seemed to be a lot of fluid in her mouth. Had she swallowed any? She thought not, and again resolved not to, concentrating instead on allowing it to drool from the corners of her mouth. Suddenly Stanley's hands gripped her head tightly and his thighs lifted from the bench, causing his rod to slide deeper into her mouth. "Christ, Millie," he gasped. "Oh, Jesus, God...I'm cumming! Ah, fuck, yes -- oh yes!" Millie tried to pull away but could not, and a moment later she felt his shaft jerk and her mouth was filled with a pungent liquid, quite unlike the oily fluid up to now. She struggled for a moment, terrified she might inadvertently swallow it, but Stanley's grip was too strong; so she opened her lips and allowed it to fall from between them as his cock jolted and twitched. It drooled in long, slimy strands down his rod to cover her fingers and the front of his trousers. At last he relaxed his hands and Millie sat upright. His cock was still hard and she glanced at it, wiping her mouth on the back of her clean hand. The bulbous knob was smeared in spit and seed and gleamed softly in the dim yellow light, and she could still taste the musty flavour of his sperm in her mouth. She leaned forward and spat on the floor of the cabinet, aware Stanley was watching her. 'You didn't give me much warning,' she admonished. "It was so good, Millie...I couldn't hold it, honest." He shivered, as if still in orgasm. "Look, it's still hard -- that doesn't usually happen. It's because of what you did...it was lovely.' The girl stared at his organ as if it were about to spit at her again. "Have you done?" she asked. "I have. There's no more now." "Are you certain? There's no more seed?" She watched his face carefully. "It is very important you tell me, Stanley." He nodded in understanding. "I'm done, Millie. It is there, on the floor - and on your face." "Do you have a handkerchief?" "I do." He extracted one from his pocket and handed it to the girl. Her angelic little face was streaked with his jism and he watched as she mopped it clean. He saw her lipstick had smeared to give her a curiously sluttish look, reinforced by the dribbles of sperm on her tits, and he was seized by another surge of lust. There was still a lot to be done, if she would let him. Millie wiped her breasts carefully before handing the damp handkerchief back to him. "I heard men can only make love once, before they need a rest. Is it true?" "Uh -- I could do it again, if you wanted." Millie did want. Her ache to be filled had not diminished and now his seed was spent it was safe to do what Nancy had told her. "Not in here,' she said. "It's altogether too hot and there isn't room." "But we need the Orgone force -" Millie fixed him with a glittering glare. "Stanley, I do declare you are sometimes one penny short of a dollar! Do you want to put your prick in me, or not?" "I'd do anything to do that." She laughed softly. "All right. But we are not doing it here. Do you have somewhere with a little more comfort, or should I go back home?" Stanley led her to his bedroom and watched with growing excitement as she shed the last of her clothes. He gazed at her nakedness for a moment, trying to capture the image for later -- the perfection of her breasts, each sculptured in porcelain and capped with a thick nipple; the arch of her waist, the swell of her hips and the long sweep of her legs, held slightly open to display the delicious little crease at their juncture. It was crowned by a thin wisp of golden hair as fine as spun flax, and the lips beneath it were swollen. She was smiling slightly, her head held at an angle and the big blue eyes on his face, and he thought her the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Millie knelt on the bed and thrust her bottom upwards. She had studied a picture like that in her book, and it had evoked a powerful response. She remembered wondering what it would be like to crouch like an animal waiting to feel the touch of a man's knob on her womanly parts, and whether it would hurt as he buried himself inside her. Somewhere behind her she heard the rustle of clothing as Stanley stripped, and the soft tread of his feet before the mattress compressed. For a few moments nothing happened and she wondered what he was doing, her senses in overdrive - the creak of the bedframe as he shuffled forward, the rough texture of the bedspread on her cheek; the scent of aftershave and the faint odour of semen lingering on her skin. The tip of his cock touched her labia and she jerked in surprise, even though it was expected, and a second later his hands grasped her hips, the fingers warm. She felt something smooth engage between the lips and heard him grunt softly with pleasure, and she understood the moment she'd been dreaming about for months had finally arrived. Would it be as good as Nancy had said, or would her scheming all be for nothing? Taking him into her mouth had been nice, but it hadn't given her much pleasure. Would this be any different? And then Stanley was pushing forward, and she braced herself. There was resistance for a second and then the head crowned - and all her doubts disappeared. It was glorious. It was divine. It felt as if her life had been without purpose, but suddenly was fulfilled. She gasped softly and hunkered down, thrusting her bottom upwards to facilitate his entry. Between her legs she could see his sack moving as he thrust, and there was an increasing sensation of fullness as his shaft slid deeper, until the warm press of his thighs told her she had taken it all. For long seconds neither of them moved, each immersed in the wonder of that first penetration. Millie imagined him inside her, like a great log buried in her core -- it was certainly bigger than the one in her picture book but it didn't feel uncomfortable: rather, it felt right, as if she had been made for it. He began to thrust back and forth, gently, and she moved with him, shifting her hands to give balance and leverage, grunting softly with each stroke. She heard the soft wet sound of their union, and a profanity entered her mind. _I'm fucking._ She felt the flutter of Stanley's hands on her waist and heard his little gasps of pleasure, and the sensation of being in control surged through her again. _I'm fucking,_ she whispered quietly, _and I love it._ Even speaking the forbidden words was exciting. Stanley was in ecstasy. He looked down at the slender figure kneeling before him: the flawless skin of her back; the narrow waist and flare of her hips, and the perfect twin spheres of her tight little ass. He shifted his hands to lever them apart and gazed spellbound at the sight of his cock sawing into her body. There was a rim of cream where they joined and his shaft shone with juice each time it appeared, almost down to the very root. Above her grasping sex he could see her anus, as tight and neat as a newborn baby's. Its circumference was finely wrinkled and it bulged slightly with each thrust of his loins. He drew her buttocks further apart and watched it open to reveal the pink flesh of her insides. _Maybe, just maybe, she would let me touch her there one day._ The image ratcheted up his pleasure and he felt the first stirrings of an orgasm. _Wait, don't come yet. Make it last._ Millie rested her forehead on the bedspread and one hand stole to her vulva, the fingers slipping between the lips to stimulate them. Waves of pleasure surged through her and she closed her eyes, imagining what she could not see: the long strokes of his cock entering and leaving her body, the tight grip of her pussy as it accepted him. She could even _smell_ their coupling now, a rich odour that further inflamed her senses, and her fingers worked quicker, the waves of pleasure spiralling up, faster and faster, until her climax burst upon her. She shrieked once, a shrill cry of almost unbearable ecstasy, and her cunt clamped tightly on the intruder as wave after wave of raw pleasure sized her. The sensation was enough to trip Stanley over the edge and he thrust deeply into her body and spurted -- three, four, five long jets spraying into the girl's core, drenching the walls of her cunt and pooling around her cervix. He closed his eyes, his hands like claws around her waist and rode the waves of bliss, brilliant flashes of light bursting in his brain: six, seven -- weaker now, but still spurting...and then a final few dribbles as the last of his semen leaked into her sodden tube. Beneath him she was still cumming, her body thrumming and cunt pulsing, almost as if it were trying to suck him deeper, but then the moment passed and she sighed and pushed weakly back against him for the last time. For long moments neither moved and there was only the sound of their laboured breath and an occasional sigh, and then Stanley pulled away, his softening cock falling free. Millie rolled on her back and smiled at him. "I liked that," she said. "What about you, Stanley?" He nodded dumbly, gazing at her vulva. There was a little puddle of cum held between the lips, perhaps from the final dribbles as he withdrew. The rest was far inside her and probably wouldn't escape, but it was not something she'd want to see. He was keenly aware that if he wanted more sex she could never know he'd cum inside her. "It was lovely," he said with feeling, "although very wet...you know, with your natural juice. Let me get you another hanky." Millie accepted the proffered item and wiped herself with it. It _was_ wet, but she knew how excited she'd been and it was obviously part of her body's natural process. God, it had been good! She glanced at Stanley's cock and was surprised to see it shrivelled. "Did I hurt you?" she asked. He shook his head. "No. Why do you ask?" He saw where she was looking and laughed. "Ah, that...no, it's just having a little rest. It's natural." Millie smiled. "Well its only eight o'clock and we have two hours left. If you were able to make it hard again -" "I'm sure I can," Stanley answered. "Perhaps we might stop for a little drink first, and then we can try another way." He remembered the tantalising sight of her little pink asshole winking up at him, but that possibility was probably a bridge too far. Better to save it for another day. While they sat drinking, the sperm Stanley had spurted carelessly inside her began its work. The cells were sluggish to begin with, for they had yet to be capacitated, but within a few hours they would swim vigourously though her uterus and into her Fallopian tubes. There were eggs there, released after her last period, and they were ripe to be fertilised. She didn't know it, but Millicent Brown was in desperate danger of becoming pregnant. But that was in the future, and what they didn't know couldn't hurt. So, after a refreshing glass of brandy, Millie lay on her back in Stanley Greenhough's bed and allowed him to fuck her again -- and it was even better than the first time. **Epilogue** As Millie was enjoying her second orgasm of the evening, Maude Brown was having a less enjoyable moment. She lay in her bed staring at her pussy in horror, for she could see Roger Smith's semen oozing from between the lips to lie like drops of liquid pearl on the rumpled sheets. "I told you not to cum!" she said angrily. "I told you I wasn't safe." The man shook his head and smiled ruefully. "Sorry love," he said. "I just couldn't help myself. I'm sure it will be all right." But Maude had a sixth sense about these things and she knew by the end of the evening she would be carrying another baby; and somehow, she knew it would be a girl. The thought filled her with anguish as she'd thought her childbearing days were over -- and she'd known of the risk and foolishly ignored it. The spectre of her downfall and the shame it would involve brought another thought: Millie. She'd be home soon and although Stanley was, in her opinion, incapable of ever impregnating a woman, Millie was an attractive girl and was in mortal danger. If she, Maude Brown, with her over-ample body and advancing years was capable of being knocked up, surely her delectable daughter was too. And so she resolved to forbid the girl to ever be with another man on her own. It was regrettable, but necessary. The thought of two babies in the house -- if Millie were ever to become pregnant -- was absurd. Better her daughter remain celibate. Better that she be kept at home forever, to protect her virtue and, of course, to help bring up her new sister. The thought cheered her up a little and she turned to the man next to her. Sex would be a scarcity over the coming months and she didn't know if Roger Smith would still be around after the birth. And if she was already pregnant, she may as well enjoy the remainder of the evening without concern. "Never mind, love," she said, "but it means there will be an end to this in a few months -- for a while, anyway. How about we make the most of it?" She glanced at her watch. "Now, what can you do in thirty minutes?" Roger Smith fell to the task with enthusiasm. Maude Brown had been fun and he was always up for a fuck, but his taste didn't run to pregnant women. What he really wanted was younger, fresher prey and he'd noticed a picture of a particularly attractive example on the dresser beside the bed. She was gorgeous, and his experience told him that the sultry pout of her lips hid a smouldering sexuality yet

to be fully developed. And so, as he plunged his thick cock into Maude Brown for the last time, he looked at the girl in the photograph and resolved he would get to know her. ***** © Copyright, Hot Sister. Not to be reproduced in whole or in part without express permission. * _ **Author's note**_ _Like most of my stories, this one ends with a 'hook' to facilitate a sequel, should I have the time and inclination to write it. Please let me know if you think it's worth my effort._ As I said at the beginning, this story is a work of fiction - but has an element of truth in the basics, as Wilhelm Reich did indeed exist. Born in Austria in 1897, he qualified in Medicine and specialised in Psychology. Over the years he was to become known as one of the most radical figures in that discipline, mainly due to his extreme views on sexuality and promiscuity. He emigrated to New York in 1939 to escape the war and shortly afterwards coined the word "Orgone" derived from 'orgasm' and 'organism', to describe a biological energy he believed to have healing properties. A year later he started building "Orgone Accumulators" for his patients to sit inside, which he said imparted health benefits. This led to newspaper articles about sex boxes that cured cancer. My description of Stanley's Accumulator is largely correct. In 1947 the US Food and Drug Administration obtained an injunction against the shipment of Orgone Accumulators, believing they were dealing with first degree fraud. Reich was subsequently charged with contempt for ignoring the injunction, and was imprisoned for two years. He died in Lewisburg prison in 1957, a few days before his release. I have no evidence to suggest that Orgone Accumulators were ever employed in the way that Stanley Greenhough used his -- but it would be fun to think they were, and, like his, maybe they led to a very satisfying conclusion for everyone involved. Hot_Sister. October 2019.

_This is an entry in the April Fools' Day contest, so expect a bit of goofiness. It's a hard story to categorize, having elements that might have put it in Group Sex, Erotic Couplings, or even Romance. It finally landed in Fetish because its heroine has certain, um, fixations - but it's mild as Fetish stories go. **Length:** about 14,600 words. **Tags:** Straight sex, Anal sex, Group sex, MMMF, MMMMF, Penis, Cum eating, College, Fraternities._ **1\. The Amy Scale** Amy Marsh knew very well that she was plain, and she had come to terms with that, more or less. Short and stumpy, she had untended eyebrows above dull gray eyes. Makeup might have helped her round puffy face, but she didn't bother. Her hair was an average brown, and she wore it in an easily maintained nerdy cut. She had big dark-framed glasses: she'd tried contacts a few years ago, but they'd been more trouble than they were worth, so she'd given them up. Her jeans and sweater were nondescript, as all her clothing was: when she'd go out shopping, meaning to buy something bold and different, she'd come back every time with the same jeans and earth tones. In the summer she wore sandals, in colder weather unfashionable running shoes (which should not be taken to imply that she ran). When Amy imagined a future for herself, it did not include love or indeed sex with an actual man. She knew very well that she didn't turn heads, and, not being abundantly endowed with that consolation prize for the unattractive known as "personality," she was unlikely to draw the attention of a man acceptable to her. Back in high school she had occasionally attended dances, where she'd stood off to the side unnoticed, watching the popular kids have fun. Sick of being a wallflower, she'd given up dances, and with them, all thought of getting a boyfriend. This is not to say that Amy didn't think about sex. She did, and frequently. She fantasized about the handsomest boys in school, about movie stars, about sports figures. She sought out pleasing pictures of scantily clad men to enrich her fantasies, and she looked at them and imagined what it would feel like to make love to them. At college (where she was, on the last Friday in March, a junior), her parents had sprung for a single room, and in that private space she'd discovered porn. She occasionally worried that something must be wrong with her: she'd read somewhere that women weren't supposed to like porn. But she did, and that was that. She loved James Deen: it was so hot to imagine him roughing her up as she sucked his cock! She liked Rocco Siffredi's stuff from a decade ago - he'd been such a handsome pervert! She pictured him putting it to her, right there in the backside. How would it feel to have a cock in her? She nervously, blushingly, ordered a dildo and a bottle of lubricant online and was relieved when they arrived, as promised, in plain packaging. She gave the dildo a workout, sucking it, fucking herself with it, and after three weeks of courage-building, putting it in her ass. Oh, it hurt back there; she had to give it five tries over three days, but when she finally got it in, the feeling was divine, and, fucking herself behind while rubbing herself in front, she masturbated to an orgasm like none she'd ever had. She ordered more toys - butt plugs, vibrators, double dildos that could be inserted both fore and aft, Ben Wa balls. She started a journal of her adventures with them: "Ben Wa and vibrator on clit, A081." "Anal vibrator and deep finger-fuck, A063." "Vibrator pussy and ass, AMAZING, A095." The numbers with A prefixed were the "Amy Scale" she had devised for rating orgasms, the first two digits indicating intensity on a scale of one to ten, and the third indicating type - 1 being clitoral, 2 vaginal, and 4 G-spot; she could indicate combinations unambiguously by ANDing these numbers. A biology major accustomed to keeping meticulous lab notes, she was raising masturbation to a science. Ever since Amy had observed, to her dismay, the form her adult self was assuming, she had eschewed the serious use of mirrors. This is unfortunate, for had she studied her face with any care, she might have noticed that she had one feature which, if not spectacular, really was quite good: her lips, which were full, succulent, and sensuously curved. You'd have to look twice or even three times to notice them, set as they were in such an unprepossessing face: since no one spent any time studying Amy's face, they went unremarked. This morning, however, someone did notice - a handsome, careless _bon vivant_ whose name Amy herself has since forgotten - let us call him John. He was enrolled in the same section of Anthropology 202 as Amy. This morning, a Friday, he was bored and grouchy, and that for a couple of reasons. The first was that he hated Friday morning classes. Like a great many undergraduates, he believed fervently that the weekend proper began at five o'clock on Thursday afternoon. But he needed this class, which satisfied a college requirement in an undemanding way, and he'd put off registering till the Tuesday-Thursday section was filled - so he was stuck. The second reason was that, although he had joined one of those fraternities that were supposed to guarantee brothers an active and varied sex life, he hadn't seen any action in a good three weeks. As the professor droned on about the gift-giving rituals of some savage group in New Guinea (or was it South America?) John scanned the room for pickup opportunities. Here was a smooth-faced blonde in a form-fitting sweater, and there a brunette with a cute upturned nose - but they were long shots. Besides, if he was to have any chance at all with girls like that, he'd have to work a lot harder than he was minded to do. He'd just about exhausted all the possibilities and was starting to consider whether he could get away with checking out his Facebook page on his phone, when his eye, sweeping the room, paused briefly on Amy, industriously taking notes and seated halfway along a semicircle of seats, the endmost of which he occupied, so that he had an excellent view of her in quarter profile. With her limp hair, pasty face, frowsy clothing, and ugly glasses, she was ridiculously drab - completely out of the question. And then, just a split second before John's eye would have moved on, an event took place that would change Amy's life. At a moment of intense concentration, as she was trying to condense the professor's last three sentences into a form that she could write down before he proceeded to his next point, she _bit her lower lip_. John's eyes widened at the sight. In an instant, an image presented itself to his mind of his youthful member sliding between this drab girl's pretty lips, and, just like that, his boredom dissipated. He opened his notebook, turned towards the front of the classroom, and started to pay attention to the lecture. When the professor finally slapped his folder shut and started to pack up, John gathered his stuff and laid a course to intercept Amy on her way out of the room. He had pegged her as a Serious Student, and he had decided how to play her. He managed to fall in beside her as if by chance, and as they were passing out of the classroom together, he said, "That lecture like really blew me away. Who'd have thought gifts had to be like repaid? Excuse me for just like _talking_ to you, but that gift theory stuff really turned me on." Accustomed to being invisible, Amy was startled at being noticed and spoken to, and it took her a couple of seconds to collect herself. But she managed to say, "Yeah, it's fascinating." That was all the response John needed, for he was blessed with an easygoing manner and an open face that gave the impression that he was totally present and couldn't imagine anything in the world he'd rather be doing than talking to the girl who was there with him at that moment. And so it took him no time at all to steer the conversation around to the question, "I was just on my way to like Starbucks. I'd really like it if you'd like join me." And Amy, astounded to be asked by anyone to go anywhere at all, said, "Sure." At Starbucks, over lattes, John found it no trick at all to discover that he and Amy had astonishingly similar tastes in music, TV, and movies, and to work up to saying "I've _really_ enjoyed talking to you. Do you think you'd like to, you know, go to dinner tonight?" "Sure, yeah," said Amy, pleased but not quite as astounded as she'd been at being invited to Starbucks - for she hadn't, after all, spent the first twenty years of her life on Neptune. Over dinner they discussed gift theory, a subject John found congenial, because he was, in truth, a firm believer in the principle that gifts had to be repaid. Indeed, he fully intended to invoke that principle this very night, after he'd picked up the check. Amy was a quiet girl who found conversation difficult, but John was marvelously easy to talk to. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, and it continued to flow as they walked together after dinner. Without their having planned it at all, they found themselves standing together on the sidewalk in front of John's fraternity house, and he said, "Look, Alpha Eta Pi isn't one of those, like, _dangerous_ fraternities you read about. If you want to come in, I've got some wine, and we can talk." Smiling, for despite her lack of experience she was no fool, Amy said, "Okay," and soon found herself alone with him in his room, sitting beside him on his bed and sipping some very nice white wine, the conversation drifting pleasantly in ever more personal directions, gaining intensity seemingly on its own, John leaning forward a bit more as they talked till his face was very close indeed to hers, and he said, with charming diffidence, "Do you mind if I..." "Not at all," she said, and he kissed those pretty lips. This was, believe it or not, Amy's first serious kiss - the first one that was more than a peck - and she liked it. She liked it a lot. This was a thing you couldn't do with a dildo: you had to have a live person with you. Judging from John's responses, she thought she might just have a talent for it too, and what with the sensory stimulation of his lips touching hers and his tongue in her mouth (not to mention hers in his) and the gratification of feeling that she was actually having an effect on him, she was getting very turned on. And so when his hand brushed a breast, she breathed "Yes" into his mouth, and he became bolder and was soon kneading her breasts through her blouse. And when he plucked at her buttons with nervous fingers, she whispered "Oh, yes, please" into his ear, and soon she was naked from the waist up, and he was nibbling her pink and perky nipples as she moaned with pleasure. And when, with a practiced motion, he unbuttoned the button of her jeans, she whined "Yes," a long, drawn-out sigh of a syllable, and that emboldened him to put his hand into her pants and massage her pussy. And when his middle finger slipped over her clitoris and into her slit, she cried, "Oh, fuck, yeah!" and pushed down her own jeans to give him better access. He spent so long finger-fucking her that she decided he wasn't going to go down on her the way she was sure James Deen would have done by now: she'd have to take matters into her own hands. She unfastened his belt and, getting to her knees by the side of his bed, wrenched down his pants and peeled off his underwear. His cock, which had been uncomfortably confined in his pants for rather too long, sprang erect, and she said, "Oh, yeah!" at the sight of it. Not that it was such an impressive thing in itself - Shane Diesel and Rocco Siffredi had way better ones - but it was the first she'd ever seen in the flesh, and it was her toy tonight. She closed her lips over the smooth pink head of it - incidentally making real for a dumbfounded and delighted John the vision he'd had earlier that day when he'd seen her bite her lip - and was transported. Oh, she had lovely dildos in various sizes and shapes, and she'd sucked them all; but none of them were flesh, none of them warm and covered with soft, smooth skin, none of them engorged with real blood pumped from a furiously beating heart, none of them leaking pre-cum from the tip. She savored the sensation of his skin slipping over the exquisitely sensitive surface of her lips - the head, the flared corona, the shaft. With her tongue she caressed the frenum (she had made an exacting study of the penis and could name all its parts) as the glans penetrated deeper into her. "Fuck," exclaimed John, who was used to having to talk girls into giving him blowjobs. As his cock slid between her lips as slowly and smoothly as a hydraulic piston, he wondered how far in she would take it. He had no idea that, due to long and enthusiastic practice with Lexington-Steele-sized dildos, his cock, of which he thought so highly, posed no challenge at all to her. Thus he watched with growing astonishment as more and more of him disappeared into her, till finally her lips grazed his pubic hair and he started to slide out again. When the top of him reappeared, she said "Yes" to it with a hiss and began again. For a good ten minutes he watched as this dumpy nerd of a girl made love to his cock, massaging it with her lips on the upstroke and with her tonsils on the down. It was such a blowjob as he'd never dared to hope for, producing unbelievable sensations and raising his arousal to a pitch that he'd never experienced before. It all would have been perfect but for the nagging anxiety that this unappealing girl might prove difficult to get rid of once he was done with her. He needn't have worried, for he was, at this moment, nothing to Amy but a cock. But what a cock he was - producing far better sensations, as he slipped in and out of her throat, than the dildos she'd become so fond of! Surely the feel of this lovely cock in her pussy would be just as good. Abruptly she stood, shoved him onto his back, climbed onto the bed, straddling him, and sat down on him, marveling at the ease with which he slid into her sodden vagina. "Shit, yeah!" she sighed as she settled onto him, amazed at how good a cock felt inside her. She rode him with a vigorous bouncing sliding motion, making sure her clitoris got lots of stimulation and paying little attention to the stupefied visage of the frat boy who was now pinned to the bed under her. "Yeah! yeah! yeah!" she cried as he looked up at her round face, somehow transfigured by her passion into a state approaching prettiness, at her round, bouncing breasts with their lovely erect nipples, at her rounded belly, wide hips, and bushy snatch, which was doing impossible things to his nervous system. He was just sensing the approach of his orgasm, the moment around which he'd organized his whole day, when she emitted an ear-piercing screech and for what seemed the better part of a minute humped him with a wild abandon that he'd never witnessed in any of the sorority girls he was so proud of having poked here in his dingy frat house room. It was a bit annoying, frankly, her riotous orgasm. It threw him off his rhythm, and he wilted while it was going on. Reflecting with dismay that it really was far better when a girl pretended to come, he felt himself slip out of her. Amy climbed off him and assessed the situation. She was wet, but her experience of porn videos told her she wasn't nearly wet enough. She touched herself: nothing was leaking out of her. She examined John's cock: it wasn't as slimy as it ought to be. The boy hadn't come. Well, it was probably for the best, since she'd gotten carried away and fucked him without protection. Still, she was sorry for him - and wasn't there an opportunity here as well? "Let's make you come," she said, bent over him, put his limp cock in her mouth, and got to work restoring his erection. This task proved to be unexpectedly easy, for while John had serious problems with eating pussy himself (for reasons rooted more in ideology than in experience), he now discovered it to be a tremendous turn-on to see Amy's lips close around his empussied cock, which quickly regained its pleasing tumescence. Amy was well acquainted with the taste of her own pussy - that aspect of this experience was only mildly stimulating. What drove her wild right now was anticipating yet another of her porn video tropes - the mouthful of cum. What would it feel like when he erupted inside her? Would it be as slimy as it looked on her computer screen? What would it taste like? She hoped he'd come lots: she wanted a good sample of it. If John had been able to read Amy's thoughts, he would have enjoyed this blowjob a lot more than he did. To come in a girl's mouth is the very apex of sexual ambition for a young man of his age and station, and no girl had ever let him do it. And, oh, he so badly wanted to! He watched in terrified anticipation, hoping against hope that she'd let him, but knowing in his heart of hearts that at the last moment this heavenly blowjob would morph into a mundane handjob. Please, God, he thought: he couldn't look but had to look; he couldn't stop his pelvis thrusting, betraying the approach of the moment; any second now she'd pull away... oh fuck he was coming coming coming... And he watched in stunned disbelief as her lips remained sealed around his shaft, his sensations, his body's spasms, telling him that it was really happening, there inside her mouth, tantalizingly out of sight: he was spurting over her tongue, and she was letting it happen. His cum was warm and gunky; she couldn't describe the taste in terms of any food she knew. Yes, a little salty, yes, a little fatty - and what else? It was an indefinable flavor she'd just have to classify as "cum." And she liked it - no, she _loved_ it - not for the taste, but for what it was doing to her pussy right now, blood again rushing in, arousal spiraling into the stratosphere. Amy let John's cock slip out of her mouth, looked into his watchful face, and swallowed. "Yeah," she whispered, and proceeded to lick the residue of his semen off his cock. John was all but lost in ecstasy - and yet this was a dangerous moment, too, when she would try to stake a claim, extracting a promise that he'd call her, and he'd have to decide whether to let her down easy or just lie. Because this was not the kind of girl he'd be proud to take on as a girlfriend and show off to his fraternity brothers. She was obviously an incredible slut - that was the only way to explain the way she'd done all the things he most wanted a woman to do. You didn't make a girlfriend of even a good-looking slut, and this one was ugly. He needn't have worried, because Amy was being battered by a storm surge of horniness for which she knew she would find no relief here: she was eager to get home to her toys and her journal. She was already planning a revision of the Amy Scale, because she'd just had an orgasm which exceeded the descriptive power of her current system. So when she'd gotten what she wanted from his cock, she stood, picked her clothes up off the grimy floor, and started to put them on, regarding him all the while with impassive gray eyes. Tense and uncertain, John watched her dress. Why was she so silent? When would she put the question? She never did. Instead, when she was dressed, she said, "Thanks. Bye." And with that, she let herself out of his room and the Alpha Eta Pi fraternity house, and set out in the direction of her dormitory. John went downstairs to the kitchen, where he snagged a beer, and thence to the common room, where he found a lone brother lounging, the others being out, or in, on dates. "Jesus, Mike," he said. "I just fucked the ugliest girl at the university, and she was like this amazing slut." "A cunt's a cunt, eh, Bro?" grinned Mike. "What did you say her name was?" "Amy, um, Martin. No - Amy Marsh." **2\. Coffee with Mike** Back in her dorm room, Amy undressed, showered, put on a nighty, selected some toys from her top dresser drawer, and reviewed the night's events. Clearly the Amy Scale would have to be revised, since she'd already decided that her orgasm with what's-his-name, the frat boy, had rated twelve on her one-to-ten scale ("Sex with jerk, cowgirl, A121"). But how high should the scale go? Twenty? Fifty? She had no way of knowing how good an orgasm could get. Nor was she sure she'd ever find out. She wasn't dumb enough to believe she'd just found a boyfriend. She recognized what she'd just experienced as a hookup, and that was fine with her: by the end of the evening she'd correctly sized up her date as shallow and dim, and she didn't want to see him again. She did, however, want more nights like tonight. She lubricated a vibrating butt plug, lay on her back, inserted it, and turned it on. Applying an egg vibrator to her clitoris, she wondered how she could go about getting more sex. By the time she'd brought herself off ("Vibrators ass and clit, A061"), she was no closer to an answer. She was, however, much calmer and more relaxed, and she went to bed and slept soundly. Fortune was smiling on Amy, for, if what's-his-name had put her out of his mind, Mike, the brother he'd met in the common room, had not. Indeed, Mike had looked her up in the online campus directory, and at the precise moment that Amy's sphincter was delightfully contracting around the stem-end of her butt plug, her name and email were flashing onto his computer screen. By the time she'd had her orgasm, he had composed what he thought a very fine email to her: > Hi Amy, > My friend John told me your smart and fun, and if your really into him know > problem but wondering if your free tomorrow (I mean Saterday) for coffee > just ot, like check me out. > Mike Amy found this epistolary masterpiece in the morning, and with some effort succeeded in deciphering both its literal meaning and its deeper significance. She replied, > Hi Mike, > I'll be glad to meet you. Starbucks at three? I'll be carrying a copy of > Molecular Biology of the Cell. It's bright pink. > Amy Amy thought the pink textbook was a nice touch. She toasted and buttered a bagel and studied her Anthro while she ate. When she checked her email again, she found a note that read, "Cool! See you then. Mike." Amy devoted an hour of her afternoon to thinking about the coming encounter, planning, and preparing. Mike was not at all dismayed by the blinking, round, bespectacled face that peered up at him from a table over against a window at Starbucks, for when he'd said "A cunt's a cunt" the night before, he'd been voicing his own philosophy. He liked sex as well as the next brother, but he was lazier than most of them and unwilling to put in the effort that obtaining a high-status sorority girl required. Among the feminine graces, easiness rated much higher with him than beauty - and if John was to be believed, this girl was very easy indeed. Amy wasn't disappointed either, if only because the email he'd sent her had raised such modest expectations. Not that Mike was objectionable. He wasn't handsome by any means, but he was large and fit, and she thought his body would probably be fun to play with. However, she suspected that any time spent talking to him would be a trial. She wasn't wrong in that. After he'd gotten his drink (Venti Caramel Macchiato), he said, "So, you're like, into biology?" "I'm a biology major," she said. "Cool," he said, and then "Cool" again. He strained for a moment to think of something else to say and finally came up with "That's a pretty tough major, isn't it? Like not a lot of girls major in science, right?" "There are more than you'd think," she said, wondering what planet this idiot was from. "That's cool," said Mike, and again he said, "That's cool." He paused a long time, face blank, and finally blurted, "I'm majoring in like business and I play Lacrosse." "I'm sure both of those are very interesting," said Amy, wondering how much time had passed but feeling it would be rude to look too often at the clock on the wall. "There's lots of math in biology, right?" asked Mike. "There is when you're in the B.S. track," she said. "I'm studying like accounting right now," he said. "Uh Huh," she said. She risked a glance at the clock: only five minutes had passed since he'd sat down. She'd go mad if she had to put up with much more of this. "There's lots of math in accounting," he said. "Look, Mike," said Amy. "You're going to ask me to dinner, right?" "Yeah, I guess so," said Mike. "And after that you're hoping I'll go to your room with you and have sex, because I had sex with... with..." "John," Mike prompted. "Yeah," Amy said. "Am I right?" "Right about what?" "That you'll want to have sex with me." Mike wasn't used to this kind of talk, and his intuition, besides, was that in matters pertaining to sex, honesty wasn't usually the best policy. But he couldn't say he _didn't_ want sex, because then... well, he wouldn't get any. "Um, I guess," he said. "Well, I can tell you right now that I'm going to say yes to all the questions you ask to get me up to your room." "Um," said Mike. "So why don't we, like, skip dinner and the questions and go to your room right now." Mike stared at her, struggling to parse what she'd said, which, if he'd understood it right, was entirely outside his experience. "So... you're saying..." "Let's go fuck, Mike," said Amy impatiently. Mike gave himself a few seconds to ponder her words. Women were subtle and mysterious creatures, and it was always wise to be on one's guard when talking to them; and yet what she had said didn't seem all that mysterious. It sounded like maybe she was ready to have sex with him right now. "Okay, sure," he said. "Good," she said and stood up. In his room at Alpha house, Mike stood awkwardly, not knowing quite what to do. It wasn't lack of experience that was giving him pause: he knew, at least in outline, the rituals one performed to cajole an ostensibly reluctant girl into bed. What he didn't know was what to do with a girl who needed no cajoling. Inwardly, Amy breathed a sigh of exasperation. By this time, James Deen would have had her up against the wall with his fingers plunged deep in her pussy. It seemed she'd have to take matters into her own hands again. She advanced on him in a clumsy dance, and when she was almost close enough for her breasts to brush the cotton of his shirt, she reached up (it really _was_ a reach, since he was very tall) and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. This strange girl's aggressiveness made Mike nervous: he was a traditionalist who valued the illusion that he was in control of his sexual encounters. But he couldn't deny the effect she had on him when, having pushed his shirt off his shoulders, she reached for his belt buckle and undid his pants, which fell down around his feet. This was one of her favorite moments in a porn scene, when the woman dropped to her knees in front of a man, his cock making an enormous bulge in his underwear as Mike's was doing now. On her knees, Amy nuzzled that bulge, gave it a little bite through the white cotton, and was gratified by his "Oh!" of fear and pleasure. "Yeah," she said to the bulge, hooked her fingers over the blue-striped elastic of his briefs, and pulled sharply down. He was big, no question about it, and curved upwards like a scimitar. This one might be more of a challenge than what's-his-name had been, but she was sure she was equal to it. She took it in her two hands and pulled it down far enough that she could get the end in her mouth, and then she paused, stimulating the glans with her lips and tongue. A shiver ran through him and into her, through her lips and tongue, her nipples, her pussy. She took him deeper and deeper till she felt him press past her epiglottis into her pharynx. Oh my, was he big - he might snake right through her and tickle her clit from the inside! His cock wasn't _that_ long, of course, but if it had been she might well have been able to take it, so skilled was she. Like his fraternity brother of the night before, he'd had his share of blowjobs (if not quite as many as he bragged of), but he'd never seen a girl's nose smashed against his pubis before. He was so astonished he nearly lost control of himself and had to conjure up an image of his Aunt Phoebe's fat greasy face to keep himself from coming. Mike knew he should give some consideration to how the action should proceed from here, but he was having more than the usual amount of difficulty forming coherent thoughts. This occasioned some anxiety, but he needn't have worried, for Amy had come with a program, which she was now determinedly carrying out. She let him slide out of her mouth, reached for her purse, and took from it a small bottle of lubricant, which she drizzled onto his cock. He gasped as she jerked him off to spread it around and came close to coming without being touched at all when she stood up, dropped her pants, and said, looking straight at him, "Put it in my ass." She got down on the floor on her elbows and knees and waited for him to obey her command. But he'd never done this before. Oh, he'd once made the claim, after his date last October with Jennifer Watson, but that had been a slander - revenge because she hadn't even let him get to first base. Jerking off to keep himself hard, Mike tried to muster the little knowledge he possessed on the subject of anal sex. Like the girl whose tight pink anus was now glaring at him impatiently, he'd watched lots of porn, but unlike her, he hadn't made a study of it. He had a sort of notion that it would be good to take it slow, but beyond that his mind was a blank. Well, all he could do was give it a try. Standing behind her, he bent his knees, took his cock in his hand, and presented the head of it at her tightly closed nether portal. He pressed himself lightly against it, but it didn't admit him. This was a different thing from a pussy; it had its own set of rules. He pressed a bit more, and it gave way a little but didn't open up. He pressed again, and she said "Oh, yeah - harder." Amy guessed right away that this boy didn't know a thing about anal sex. She'd anticipated that and had done everything she could to make it easy for him, giving herself an enema, wearing a butt plug right up till it was time to go to the Starbucks, and bringing her own lubricant. Now she was giving him a chance to do the rest. She liked the feeling of his cock pressing against her anus, but she knew he wasn't in yet - could he do it? "Fuck, yeah, _harder_," she said by way of encouragement, and he pushed harder - but not hard enough. How much more could she do? She wiggled her ass and pushed against him, but he pulled back when she did. Fuck. He was losing his nerve. She stood up, gave him a disgusted look, put her hand on his chest, and shoved him. "Lie down," she said. He obeyed her, but his cock was wilting. How unreliable these boys' bodies were! She sat down astride his legs and sucked him till he was hard again; then she stood over his cock and slowly lowered herself onto it till it was pressing hard against her anus. She closed her eyes, put more weight on him, and finally felt herself dilating to admit him. There was that same flash of pain she'd learned to love using her bigger dildos, fading then and giving way to the pleasure of stretching muscles and the friction of skin against sensitive membranes... "Yes!" she cried in triumph, sat down hard on Mike's big cock, and rode it. Oh, this was everything she'd hoped and more: the stimulation of her sphincter, the pressure, the dazed look on Mike's stupid face - she reached between her legs and gave her clit a fierce rub as she bounced once extra hard and screamed "Yah!" in pain and pleasure. Then she rode again, fingers sunk deep in her pussy, palm rubbing her clit, faster and faster till she came with a screech even louder than the one that had so deafened what's-his-name the night before. But Mike hardly noticed the noise. In a matter of minutes, he'd gone from fear to dazed disbelief to the realization that he'd never felt anything remotely like this tight asshole around his cock, and every time she lifted herself up, the sensation as her tight hole squeezed the head of him was... was... just incredible, and it was blazing through his whole body, and oh fuck he wanted to make it last longer but it was too intense, and he... just... had... to... come - which he did with a loud moan and racking spasms. Amy raised herself off him, paused, and inserted a finger in her ass - a trick she'd seen in porn movies to let the cum run out. She let it puddle on his belly, then stood, pulled on her panties, and picked up her jeans. "Hey," said Mike, "you're not like going already, are you? We're gonna..." "Stuff to do," said Amy, and sat on the bed to put on her shoes. Mike watched her finish dressing with desolate eyes. She said nothing more, but left the room. Outside Mike's door, she checked her watch. Five-thirty. There was a bathroom across the hall: she went in, wiped her ass, peed, and washed up. She wondered what to do for dinner. To leave the fraternity house she had to pass the wide door of the common room. As she was doing so, someone shouted, "Hey, Amy!" She looked: it was that guy she'd fucked the night before, standing in a tight group with Mike and some other guy. "Hey, c'm'ere, Amy. Want you to meet somebody!" **3\. Kegger** Amy thought she had gotten pretty much everything what's-his-name and the other guy, Mike, had to offer her, and she wanted to go home and record her orgasm - but she decided there was no harm in pausing for a minute just to be polite. The third guy was beefy and sandy-haired; he was clutching a plastic cup full of beer. "This is Amy, my date last night," said what's-his-name. "Amy, this is Will, our chapter president." Will grinned and said, "I'm _very_ glad to meet you, Amy. What a coincidence that you should be passing by at the precise moment my brothers here were extolling your excellent qualities!" Amy said, "Hi, Will." Will gestured towards a couple of kegs over against a wall. "As you can see," he said, "we're preparing to host one of those notorious fraternity parties your mother warned you against. We'd be totally honored if you'd join us." "I don't think I'm allowed here," said Amy. "I won't be twenty-one for another four days." "Well," Will frowned, "that does present a problem. There _will_ be a guard checking IDs at the door, and close doesn't win a prize in the ID-checking game." He brightened suddenly and said, "But you see, you're already inside, so no one will check _your_ ID. All you have to do is stay." Trying to be firm, Amy said, "I haven't had dinner yet. I've got to go home and eat." Will threw back his head and roared with laughter. "Home and eat! That's very good!" He leaned towards her and said, very seriously, "Amy, on this night of nights, Alpha Eta Pi has cleaned out all the pizza establishments in town. Every available

pizza is stacked up in our kitchen. _Please_ allow the chapter to treat you to dinner. What do you favor? Pepperoni? Sausage? Vegetarian? We have it all." Amy was cornered - but how bad was that? Will was good looking, if a little heavy, and very friendly. Maybe the other partygoers would be just as nice. "I guess... some veggie," she said. Will clapped his hands and shouted, "Excellent! I shall personally escort you to our pizza hoard and serve you myself." He took her by the arm and piloted her towards the back of the house. On the way he said, in a confidential tone, "What do you think of the two brothers you've met so far, Amy?" "They're okay." "Worthy men, both of them," Will exclaimed. "And if you think they're 'okay,' I'm sure you'll be more than pleased when you meet the others; because _Alpha_ " (he paused to give the wall a proprietary slap) "is an organization of men who appreciate true womanhood and know how to treat women appropriately." "That's good to hear," said Amy. They entered a large kitchen, where many pizza boxes were piled up. No one else was here. Will browsed the boxes as he might a shelf of library books, and finally selected one. "Here we go, veggie," he said, took a plastic plate from a stack and served her a slice. "Thanks," she said, and took a bite from the end. Will studied her as she ate, wondering if makeup or other stylistic interventions could rescue this appalling creature from her drabness. But her mouth was as pretty as John had claimed, and girls who took it up the ass and swallowed your cum were rare and precious. Yes, there was something about this girl... "I just know you're going to be a hit tonight," said Will. "I can tell you have a modest nature, but you are quite attractive. I'm really enjoying your company." "Yes, Will," said Amy. "What?" "Whatever you're leading up to, the answer is yes." Will stared as she chewed another mouthful, not quite believing he understood her right. But he finally decided her meaning had been plain enough, so when she swallowed, he took her plate from her, set it on the counter beside them, and reached for his zipper, saying, "I do like a girl who says yes." Amy's heart sang. Here was a third cock in just twenty-four hours! She sank to her knees in front of Will and watched, fascinated, as he pulled himself out of his pants. This was going to be a good one. Not only was he growing fast, but he was uncircumcised. How often she'd imagined herself pulling back Rocco Siffredi's foreskin, unwrapping him like a birthday present - and now she had one of her very own to play with! Very gently, because she didn't know how sensitive he'd be, she pulled back the foreskin. The glans underneath was moist, pink, and appetizing - she leaned forward and kissed it. It was warm and soft, and even a little kiss elicited a sigh from Will, who now placed a hand behind her head and urged her forward. She was willing: she let him glide between her lips, savoring the flavor of him, the penis smell, the sensation on her lips, and his boldness as he pulled her harder and pushed forward at the same time, so all at once he was over her tongue and past her uvula. Now he took her head in both hands and thrust hard, battering the posterior wall of her oropharynx. She made an "ack" sound, gagging because after all a dildo doesn't seize your head and fuck your throat, so she wasn't exactly used to this; but it was great, the gagging, the danger of it, the way her mouth was suddenly full of thick saliva. She stuck her tongue out around him and drooled a gleaming strand onto the industrial tile of the kitchen floor. "What the fuck," said an unfamiliar voice. She cast her eyes sideways and saw a boy she hadn't met, tall and black, staring with astonished eyes. "Hey, George!" said Will. "That's one ugly bitch," said George, advancing towards them. "She looks like a fucking groundhog." "Yeah, but an unbelievable cocksucker," said Will. George took another step, just enough to bring him within reach, and Amy caught him by the belt and hauled him closer. Taking the hint, he unzipped and pulled himself out, and she took him in her hand and jerked him off as Will, in a spasm of fraternal goodwill, gave one energetic thrust ("Annghh," Amy gargled) and yielded his place. Amy turned towards George (or rather towards his cock) and admired him as she pumped. His shaft was dark chocolate, glans a rich plum, skin silky and unblemished: he grew rapidly in her hand, and while he was no Lexington Steele, he was satisfactory - long enough, and very thick. Mouth watering, she wrapped her free arm around one trousered thigh and pulled him to her. "Yeah!" she said enthusiastically a split second before the big purple glans plugged up the passage to her larynx, cutting off her speech. What a day of wonders this was! A mere twenty-four hours before, she had never sucked a cock, and now she'd had four! And while none of them was quite as good as the ones she'd seen in videos, she loved the variety: one average, one king-sized, one uncut, one black! George now followed Will's lead, seizing Amy's head, fucking her vigorously and occasionally giving her a sharp pull. She spluttered and coughed, and the spot of drool on the floor between her legs grew into a puddle. Another male voice called, "Dude, where's the pizza? Whoa!" Within seconds she was sucking a third cock - long and thin, with a purplish head - while Will and George stroked themselves, waiting for their turns to come around again. Soon Will had another turn, and George, and the new guy, who grabbed her ears and slammed into her throat with a sadistic chuckle, and it occurred to Amy that maybe the idea of the fraternity had more to recommend it than she'd guessed - it was so impressive the way they were sharing and sharing alike. After they'd each had four or five turns, Will pulled out of Amy's mouth and, with a firm hand on top of her head, aimed his cock at her nose and jerked off; whereupon the other two crowded in and did the same. Here was another of Amy's porn-driven fantasies about to come true: she was going to get her very first facial! She opened her mouth wide, porn-star style, and waited, hyperventilating, heart pounding. Her gazed shifted from cock to cock - it was so exciting, three of them pointing at her, little slits winking as the boys pumped themselves like shotguns. She resisted the urge to close her eyes, wanting to see when the cum jetted out of them. She steeled herself: she wouldn't flinch. The last boy was the first to come, delivering eight or nine powerful and well-aimed spurts square on the nose - it splattered, and she felt the warm goo ooze down her cheeks. Next was Will, who rested the tip of his cock on her lower lip and filled her nearly to overflowing. She paused to swallow when he was done, because that's what her favorite pornstars did: she made a show of forcing it down. Was it her imagination, or was Will's cum sweeter than what's-his-name's had been the night before? Finally George seized a fistful of her hair, yanked her towards him, and let fly, aiming for her eyes: his cum splashed on her glasses and ran off onto her cheeks as the other two cheered, "All right!" When they were spent, Amy peered through messy lenses at the proprietors of the three cocks she'd just sucked. "Amy, meet George," said Will, gesturing towards the black guy, and Amy smiled and said, "Hi, George." "And this is Theo," Will continued, indicating the other, who had a scruffy beard, a trilby hat, and a lopsided grin. He was holding in his hand a rapidly shrinking cock, from the end of which a milky drop hung precariously. "Hi, Theo," said Amy, and licked the end of his cock. His whole body twitched, and he gasped, "Fuck!" Staring at Amy, Will said to his brothers, "Despite what George said about Amy's looks, which has an element of truth in it, you have to admit she looks very fine drenched in cum." The other two repeated "Very fine" after him. Will continued, handing her a towel, "I was just telling her that the men of Alpha appreciate true womanhood - and I think we can all agree that Amy here is a true woman - the kind that understands a man's needs and knows exactly how to satisfy them!" "True, true," said George, and Theo said "Damned straight." Amy was puzzled. She hadn't given a thought to the needs of these guys: she honestly didn't give a fuck about them. She opened her mouth to say so, but decided the whole thing was too complicated to explain - and anyway, she was likely to get more mileage out of simply saying "Thank you," which she did. "It sounds like the party's warming up!" Will boomed as Amy toweled dry. "Let's go check it out. Amy, I think you'll want a little something to wash down all that spunk, eh?" "I guess," she said. Will took her arm again, and the two of them led the others from the kitchen - Amy casting a longing backwards glance at her half- eaten slice of pizza. It was still early for a fraternity party, but about twenty people had already gathered. "Hey Hey!" cried Will, "there's Jackie, the house slut! Let me introduce you to her, Amy!" He towed her towards a mousy, skinny brown-haired girl wearing a skimpy blue party dress with a zipper in front. She gave Amy a scared look. "Babe!" Will exclaimed, and clasped Jackie in a full-body hug, cupping a cheek of her narrow ass in his beefy hand. "Amy," he continued, "this is Jackie, our house slut. She's a senior, and kind of on call to fuck any of the brothers that can't find dates on any particular night. We're very proud of her: not many fraternities can boast so fine a slut. We're going to feel the loss keenly when she graduates - if you get my drift." Amy got his drift, but decided not to say anything but "Hi, Jackie." "Hi, Amy," said Jackie in a thin, squeaky voice that matched her look precisely. "Jackie, why don't you help Amy get a beer and introduce her around a bit? I'll see you both real soon." He gave Jackie a quick peck on the cheek. He turned towards Amy as if to do the same for her, hesitated, and reached around her awkwardly to pat her on the back. Then he hurried away. As Jackie led Amy towards the kegs, she said in a nearly inaudible voice, "Don't let them make you their house slut, whatever you do." "Why not?" asked Amy. "Come sit with me," Jackie whispered urgently, and steered Amy towards some plastic-covered seats by a wall. Jackie started her story before they were even seated. "I thought the brothers were like really cool when I first started going to their parties," Jackie sobbed, "but they're really horrible. The first boy I met - he's graduated now - told me he loved me and was really sweet, or so I thought. But he broke up with me after just a month: he said any girl who let him do the things I let him do - like fucking my face and coming in my mouth - couldn't be trusted to be faithful. "I was devastated, but another of the brothers comforted me and told me he loved me better than the first one, and I'd be his forever. I really wanted to keep him so I let him do all the things the first brother did and ass-fuck me too. When he broke up with me after just a couple of weeks, he had a third brother in the room with him who he said was really into me and didn't care that I was a skank, so it wasn't really a loss at all, you see. And that third one lasted just a week, and pretty soon they were like 'Go see Bob for a fuck,' or 'Jake needs a blowjob,' or 'Dave wants a rimjob,' passing me around and not even pretending to have a relationship with me..." Jackie broke down here and collapsed against Amy's shoulder. Amy patted her awkwardly until she was able to resume. "And then they started to fuck me two at a time or make me have sex right here in the common room during parties. So I got this reputation that followed me like everywhere. I tried to quit the Greek scene and moved into a dorm, but even they knew about me there from all the talk about me on Yik Yak, so boys would like knock on my door at two in the morning wanting an ass-fuck. Since I couldn't escape it, I ended up coming back..." Jackie buried her face in her hands and sobbed, and when she'd recovered a little, she looked up at Amy with damp eyes and said, "Oh, Amy, what'll I do?" Amy thought about that for a minute. She liked the idea of having sex with lots of random men - she wanted the life of a porn star, not of a girlfriend - but becoming the property of a fraternity and being passed around like a toy sounded stupid. She didn't have an answer to Jackie's question, though. "I don't know," she said. Jackie looked at her as if she'd said something profoundly wise. "C'mon, let's get a beer," she said. **4\. Jackiebang** Amy didn't want a beer. It had occurred to her, as Will was coming in her mouth, that she should record penises and semen in her journal alongside orgasms, and her head was buzzing with ideas for classification schemes. Between that and the necessity of remembering the details of the five cocks she'd made use of and the two loads of cum she'd swallowed, she was determined to keep a clear head. So she just carried around the beer Jackie gave her, occasionally taking the opportunity to pour a little of it out into empty cups she found on tables and shelves around the room. She stuck close to Jackie. She could see why she made a good house slut: she was so meek, she just invited abuse. Amy wanted to shake her, or even hit her, but she didn't think that would change her way of thinking. Still, she liked Jackie, who was kind and possessed a wan prettiness that Amy found appealing. Practically every female porn star was bi, at least on camera: Amy wondered if she'd enjoy oral sex with her. She added it to her mental to-do list. Nearby, a male voice shouted, "Hey, Jackie! How 'bout a blowjob here?" "Oh, no!" Jackie whimpered so quietly only Amy could hear. A skinny boy with a rat-like face emerged from the crowd, clutching his crotch. "Man, it's been so long since I got any nooky, my balls are about to explode. You gotta help me out, babe." "Sure, Danny," Jackie whined, and got to her knees in front of the boy as he pulled out his half-limp cock. Without preliminary kisses or licks, she took him in her hand, put him in her mouth, and sucked. A number of boys gathered in a circle to watch. Jackie's technique was energetic but without feeling: it was obvious that her sole purpose was to get Danny off as quickly as possible. This subtlety, however, was lost on the laughing, cheering boys gathered in a tight circle around her. Here and there a girl clinging to her date's side called, "Yeah, suck that cock, slut!" or "Swallow it, bitch!" Amy wondered what her Anthro professor would think of the scene. The only boy who didn't seem to be having fun was Mike, who stood back a little, watching but not smiling or cheering. What was the expression on his face? Distaste? Dismay? Will was standing a few feet away from Amy, and next to him was a blond boy who said, "Man, it's gonna be hard times when Jackie graduates." "Not as bad as you think, Winston," said Will. "We've got our new slut lined up already. A few of us have given her a test drive, and she rocks." Will grabbed Amy's hand and hauled her to his side. Winston said, "Dude! She looks just like a toad!" "She looks a lot better with her lips wrapped around your cock," said Will. "Whatever you say, man," said Winston. "I'm gonna get a piece of Jackie while the getting's good." He crowded in beside Danny, unzipped, and pulled himself out. Jackie let Danny slip from her mouth and, sighing tiredly, sucked Winston's cock. Amy watched, turned on even though Jackie wasn't having fun. In a low voice, Will said to someone on the other side of him, "You coming to the big sendoff, man? Just fifty - totally worth it." Another voice answered, "The Jackiebang? Wouldn't miss it, dude. Does she know anything?" "Not a thing. It's gonna be a big surprise." Somebody put on "Drunk in Love," and Amy couldn't hear any more, but just watched as Danny unzipped Jackie's dress, which fell open, revealing a slender, pretty body. He shoved her to the floor, tore off her panties, rolled on a condom, and thrust into her while Winston, on one knee by her head, pushed into her mouth. Jackie had the wrong attitude, that was it. She was letting them use her. Amy wanted to be on the floor there fucking Danny and Winston - they'd be _her_ toys, though, serving her needs. The action would be exactly the same, and everything would be different. Winston and Danny traded places, Danny squatting above Jackie's head and pressing his tense, tight balls into her mouth. Jackie raised her hands reflexively, as if to push him away, but let them fall again. She hardly reacted as Winston pressed into her, though Amy knew she'd be squirming and moaning in her place - especially when Danny turned around and drove deep into her throat, which bulged as he fucked her. A boy standing beside Amy shouted into her ear so he could be heard over the music: "These Alphas know fuck-all about women." Amy looked: he was smooth and neatly groomed, with a charcoal suit and a pink tie. She liked the look of him. "How so?" she shouted back. The music ended, and he said, hurriedly before another song could begin, "They've got no respect for women: they just use them up. Now _my_ fraternity has a completely different philosophy. The men of Sigma Upsilon Kappa treat the women who visit our house as human beings and honored guests." "That sounds nice," said Amy. "Take oral sex, for example," he said. "My name's Roy, by the way." "Hi, Roy. I'm Amy." "I know - you're famous. Now they're fucking Jackie's face, but do they ever give _her_ any head? I don't _think_ so." "And you do at Sigma?" "It's a requirement. We don't let in boys who objectify and degrade women. To prove they have the right attitude, they have to demonstrate that they can eat pussy. Rush is a great week for our house slut!" "I'll bet," said Amy. "I'd love to show you some respect," said Roy. "What girl doesn't like respect?" said Amy, reaching for the button of her jeans. Giving her a wicked grin, Roy took her hand and pulled her over to a big leather chair in a corner. "Sit there," he said. Amy pushed down her jeans and panties, sat, leaned back, and spread her legs. Someone put on "Timber." "A good song to go down by," said Roy, kneeling between Amy's legs. He gazed at her pussy, reached out, and petted her mound like a guinea pig. "You ever think of shaving this?" he asked. "Every day," she said. He leaned in and sniffed. "Powerful bouquet," he said. "I've been wet since like four." "I see," he said, and gave her clitoris a soft lick. Here was another new experience to savor. The difference between Roy's tongue and her finger wasn't just that his tongue was wetter and softer (though those were nice things), but also that the tongue was his, not hers - she had to give up some control to him and trust him with her body's most sensitive spot. That was a turn-on, especially since she didn't know anything about this guy. Her pussy tasted good, and the skin of her fleshy thighs was smooth and white. He spread her labia with his fingers, revealing the inside of her, damp and luscious pink. He licked up and down her inner labia and up the middle of her to her clit, where he drew circles with the tip of his tongue and, when she sighed and wiggled, gave her a little suck. Roy liked eating pussy - he liked it a lot, knowing what it usually led to. His frat's unofficial slogan was "The road to a blowjob runs through the cunt": if you wanted a girl to service you, you had to give a little, and eating pussy was a small enough thing, even if it was kind of fishy. Roy was good at it. He ate Amy patiently, waiting for his turn. Amy had never been eaten before, and she was in no hurry, especially now that they were drawing a crowd and she was starting to get turned on being watched. She'd have to add exhibitionism to the other weirdnesses she'd been discovering over the last couple of days. There was what's-his-name from last night, staring at her pussy; there was George, discreetly touching himself through his pocket; there was Danny with a blonde in a red sequined dress clinging to his side. There was Mike, too, but Mike wasn't looking at Amy. She followed his gaze: it was Jackie he was staring at, now slumped in a plastic chair by the wall, ignored by the crowd. Rob was getting impatient. When would she get the memo about reciprocating when a guy ate you? He'd step things up, try to make the message clearer. He put his hands under her thighs, hoisted her legs, and licked her ass. He'd done this before, of course. It was part of the Sigma philosophy: if you rimmed a girl, that was like an exclamation point on your ministrations, a signal that your fuse was getting short and she'd better fucking get moving. But there was something different and exciting about this girl's ass. It was loose and damp; his tongue slipped into it. It had an odd flavor, too: not shit, just odd. It was disquieting, but there was nothing _wrong_ with it: he decided she probably had low muscle tone and an eccentric body chemistry, maybe related to diet, and he drilled into her. Amy stared, liking the look of Rob's nose disappearing behind her mound and the feel of a tongue in her ass, which was still sensitive after the stretching Mike had given it. It was so warm, so wet, so intimate! Not only was it a turn-on, but her reputation as a slut seemed secure now that dozens of people were watching a boy lick her ass: she'd get a lot more sex out of this. Rob was falling in love with Amy's asshole - the flavor, the way he could put his tongue inside, the way she was writhing, emitting little shrieks when he tongue-fucked her. She wasn't playing the sophisticate: she was a woman in the throes of passion. On an impulse, he reached around one chubby thigh, located her clit, and rubbed hard. Amy shrieked and bucked, mind and body zooming out of control - she couldn't slow things down, didn't want to, but let herself go and came with a scream that drowned out Rihanna's thumping dance tune. The crowd cheered, and someone shouted, "Suck his cock, Amy!" Okay, she was willing to suck his cock. She struggled to a sitting position, and he sat back with a dazed look. The end of his nose was wet. "Stand up, baby," she said. His cock was ridiculously hard: she had a job getting it out of his pants. But it was a good one, uncut and with olive skin, not thick but nice and long, with a bluish glans already peeking out. She slid the foreskin back; her mouth watered; she leaned forward and let him slide into her. Off to one side she heard Will say, "What did I tell you? Incredible cocksucker." She imagined word spreading through all the fraternities and all the dorms, over GChat and on Facebook: Amy Marsh, incredible cocksucker. As she sucked, she rubbed her pussy with one hand and put the other on his ass, pulling her to him so everyone could see her deep throat him. Rob pushed her down so her back was flat on the big chair, head propped against the back, ass hanging off. She lifted her legs, exposing her whole undercarriage to him so he could take his choice of holes and so everyone could see: she didn't care if they liked what they saw, as long as they looked at her. Rob stopped and stared, trying to decide - then plunged into her pussy and fucked her so furiously her thighs, belly and tits jiggled. "Yeah!" she yelled, "Fuck me!" and the crowd echoed "Fuck her! Fuck her!" as "Pull Up to the Bumper" boomed from the speakers. When Grace Jones belted "I've got lots of space for everyone," Rob yanked himself free, and his cum arced over her, splattering her belly, breasts, neck and glasses. The crowd cheered and applauded, but soon began to disperse as people spotted friends or noticed more interesting things going on in the room. Amy picked up her clothing and went off to find a bathroom. When she got back, Jackie was sitting against a wall looking desolate, invisible to the partygoers, who were talking, laughing, flirting, and backslapping. Amy set a course for Jackie, but Mike intercepted her. "Um, Amy, do you think you'd want to..." "Later, Mike," she said. "Come with me." She caught his hand and hauled him over to where Jackie was sitting. "Do you know this guy?" she demanded. "Yeah. Hi, Mike." Jackie smiled at him shyly as he shifted from foot to foot. "Hi, Jackie," said Mike, looking at his feet. "Did you ever fuck him? Big cock, upturned?" "No, he never asked," said Jackie. Mike shook his head. "Tell us about the Jackiebang, Mike," said Amy. Mike glanced left and right, as if looking for an escape route. "She's not supposed to know," he said. "It's a surprise." "Not anymore," said Amy. "It's like a combination going away party and April Fools' thing." "And fundraiser." "Well, yeah. We go through a lot of beer here. We gotta hold fundraisers now and then." "You should raise your dues, then," said Amy. "So you're luring Jackie here on some pretense..." "They told me they're having a dinner in my honor," Jackie whispered. "On April first." "And then you gangbang her." "I should have guessed it," said Jackie, eyes filling with tears. "Will said she'd love it," said Mike. " _Mike_," said Amy with an exasperated sigh, "she'd _hate_ it. She doesn't want to be a _slut_, she's _never_ wanted that. She wants to be a _girlfriend_." "Really?" said Mike, wide eyed. "Yeah," breathed Jackie, gazing at him soulfully. "Why don't you two go upstairs and get acquainted," said Amy. "I'll stay here and entertain the troops. We'll talk more about this Jackiebang tomorrow." **5\. April Fools' Day** Natty in a tuxedo, Will strutted to the front of the common room and addressed his assembled brothers and the guests of Alpha Eta Pi in his most sonorous voice and grandest manner. "Welcome to the celebration of our beloved slut Jackie. Most of us have known her (in the various senses of that word) since she alighted on our doorstep as a mere freshman nearly four years ago. She dated a few of our brothers early on, but soon discovered that, for her, the more satisfying relationship was with the fraternity as a whole. Few indeed are the Alpha men for whom she has not, at some time or other, relieved the loneliness of a night when a girlfriend was out of town, soothed the pain when a sought-after date failed to materialize, or calmed the nerves before an exam or a big game. "She is a shining exemplar of womanhood, selflessly giving of herself to satisfy the needs of the men she loves. Tonight, to show our appreciation and our love, we are going to give her what her heart most desires - the opportunity to achieve a deeper satisfaction by serving a much larger number of men. "She knows nothing of this: her native modesty might have kept her away if she'd known what we were planning on her behalf. Indeed, that same modesty may prompt her to pretend to resist our desire to honor her in the way she'll appreciate most. But knowing her heart and mind as we do, we can proceed with our celebration in the confidence that what we do for her tonight will meet her needs much more than it does ours. "She will come through that door at any moment, and I will prepare her for the celebration." He held up a pair of handcuffs and a whip, and the crowd applauded. "All you need to do is follow my lead. Now let us wait respectfully for our guest of honor." Will stood by the door and surveyed the crowd. It was a satisfaction that so many had turned out: around fifty, if he guessed rightly, paying fifty a head. That would come to around twenty-five hundred dollars for the chapter - pure profit, since they were providing no food or drink, nothing but the slut, who was free. He considered passing the time by taking a head count, but what was the point? Mike, who was collecting the money at the door, would give him an exact accounting later. He glanced at his watch. It was two minutes after eight. The fucking slut was always late. He probably should punish her for that, but what would be the point? Bitches like that were wired for getting decent grades, but not for learning the important lessons of life. The new slut, Amy, would be much more satisfactory, even if she was a dog - the way she always said yes promised great things. She'd probably be just as stupid as Jackie, but at least you wouldn't have to argue her into a butt-fuck. Eight-fifteen. The guys were getting restless. "Don't worry," Will announced. "Jackie's sometimes late, but she's reliable. I personally guarantee she'll be here soon. In the meantime, we'll break out some beers from our ample stock." He nodded at Theo and George, who ran to the kitchen and returned a couple of minutes later pushing a cart laden with cases of Miller, which they distributed among the brothers and guests. Eight twenty-five. Will went to the house office to call Jackie. There was no answer. He left an urgent message: "Babe, get your ass over here." Eight thirty-five. The guests were grumbling about rip-offs. Will sent Theo to find a number for Amy Marsh. It took him ten minutes to find it, but at least she answered her cell on the first ring. "Babe!" Will exclaimed in relief. "Can you get over here ASAP? We totally need a slut, and we can't find Jackie." "Sorry, Will, I've got a date." "But you're the girl that always says yes!" "I already said yes to somebody else." "Look, if you want to be the Alpha house slut..." "I don't." Amy ended the call with a sense of satisfaction. It was her twenty-first birthday: it was a pain, being an April Fools' baby, but this had been a good one. She had celebrated by going to a beauty salon, where she'd said, "Do whatever you can." The stylist had swallowed hard and set to work, and Amy thought the result not half bad, really. Then she'd bought a tiny black fuck- me dress. She picked up her purse, made sure she had her driver's license and some other things, and headed for the door. Rob had invited her to a party at Sigma Upsilon Kappa, and she didn't want to be late. Back at Alpha house, Will said, "Where's Mike?" "Dunno, dude," said George. "Check his room. We're gonna have to refund these guys their money." But Mike wasn't in his room, wasn't in the games room, wasn't anywhere. Neither was the gray steel cash box in which Mike had been keeping the day's receipts. Nine o'clock. Will drooped back to the common room, followed by George and Theo. Some fifty horny and angry men turned to stare at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but what was there to say? "Where's the slut, dude?" asked a beefy guy, big as a fullback. Will took one step backwards towards the door. "Where's our fuckin' _money_," said another even bigger jock. Will, George, and Theo turned in unison, like water ballerinas, and ran. Amy was puzzled that there was no one checking IDs at the door of Sigma house and no people coming and going. There didn't seem to be a party. Well, maybe it was a little one - either that or she'd gotten the date wrong and trekked all the way over to Fraternity Row for nothing. She tried the door, and finding it unlocked, let herself in. The house was quiet. She passed a big empty living room, a dining room, and a kitchen before she heard indistinct male voices from somewhere farther along. She came to an intersection in the hallway and listened. The voices were coming from the right. She followed the sound to a closed door, which she put her ear to, but couldn't make out what they were saying. She opened the door and stepped inside. Four boys turned and gave her a stony look. Rob and three Alphas, Will, George and Theo, stood in a cluster near a big pool table, looking as if they'd been deep in conversation. She thought about running, but decided it would do no good. "Where's Jackie?" Will demanded. "Where's Mike?" "Where's the party you invited me to?" Amy asked Rob. "Where's our fucking money?" snarled Theo. "So many questions," said Rob. "Let's take 'em one at a time. Let's see. The party. That was gonna be an April Fools' Day joke. You would come here looking for a party, but instead you'd find me here by myself because my brothers were all out being silly here and there. You would comfort me in my loneliness." "Kind of a lame joke," said Amy, "but it would have been fun." Rob continued, "My plan got derailed when these Alphas came running in with a mob of like fifty pissed off guys on their tails, all with hard-ons. I helped calm things down, and when the four of us laid our heads together we figured out you'd be able to tell us what the fuck is going on." "So tell me where our slut is," said Will, "and Mike." "They're _your_ people. I hardly know them." George said, "Been chatting with my homies, hearing you've been seen around a lot with Mike and Jackie the last few days." He held his phone up as if it were evidence. "We hung out a little. So what?" "Fuck this," said Theo. "Let's just beat the shit out of her till she coughs up our money." He clenched his fists and did a totally convincing impression of a thug. Amy took a step backwards. "You guys are nuts." George grabbed her wrist and hauled her into the room. Theo made a run at the door, slammed it shut, and wheeled to face her. "You think you were ugly before, wait till we're done with you." Amy looked at Rob. "Are you going to let this happen in your frat house?" "Hey," Rob shrugged. "The Alphas are a brother house, and the honor of the Greek system is at stake. Just give them their money, and nothing bad will happen." "I don't have it." Will said, "Punch her in the face, Theo, and see if that changes her mind." Theo grinned and raised a hand. Terrified, Amy blurted, "I'll pay you back!" "Now we're getting somewhere," said Will. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "The money's gone, and I can't get it back for you, but I'll pay you in kind." Will gave her a suspicious look. "What do you mean?" "Mike took fifty each from forty-eight guys," said Amy. "Twenty-four hundred dollars. What do you think you'd have to pay for a four-on-one? I'm not talking about shares in a rape; I mean a real gangbang with a willing girl." "A whore," said Rob. "Yeah, if you want to put it that way. It'd cost you a lot more than fifty. Make it, let's see, six hundred a head. That sounds about right." Rob stared. "You're saying..." Heart thumping, Amy said, "I'll pay you in sex." The boys watched glassy-eyed as Amy set down her purse, reached behind her, unhooked her

dress, and wiggled out of it. Underneath she wore a black bra and panties, which she took off and dropped on the floor. If she was no beauty, she was plenty good enough: her hair was done in a cute bob, her pretty lips red, her face smooth and round, eyebrows sculptured, breasts swelling, pussy shaved. Everything about her screamed "Fuck me!" She picked up her purse, went to the pool table, and shook its contents out onto the felt: half a dozen condoms, a little bottle of lubricant, a driver's license. She put the license back along with her glasses and set the purse on the floor. "You know I'm a good fuck," she said. "Anyway, my body is all I've got to give you, so you'll have to take it or leave it." "It's a good offer, brothers," said Rob, staring at Amy's prominent nipples. "She's right that the price is a lot fairer than what you were asking for Jackie." "What do we do about paying back fifty bucks to all those guys?" said Will. "Not my problem," said Amy. "Dig into your treasury. I'm sure you've got it. Or do what I'm doing and let them fuck you for it." "Very funny," said Will. Amy scanned the boys quickly - their crotches, not their faces. Yes! Theo had a hard-on. Her heart was still pounding: her body wanted to make a dash for the door, but she willed herself to be calm. She closed the space between them, moving smoothly, a cat stalking a bird, and stroked his cock through his pants. He stood still, face expressionless. "Here I am," she purred, reaching for his belt buckle, "just a _weak little girl_ shut up in a room with four _big strong men_, and I need a fuck so bad!" In another second Theo's pants were around his ankles and she was on her knees, sucking his cock. Unbuttoning his shirt, Rob said, "I thought I'd have this bitch to myself tonight, but if I've got to share her, well, what the fuck." Naked, he pressed in beside Theo, and Amy turned to suck him, holding Theo in her hand to make sure he didn't get away. Amy's ploy seemed to be working, but she was still terrified. Sure, she had decided to be a slut and was happy with her decision, but her other exploits so far - even the three blowjobs in the Alpha kitchen - were a walk on the beach compared to what she was setting out to do now. She'd invited these four boys, three of them seriously pissed off, to gangbang her: what would they do? She'd watched gangbang videos and wondered how some of the girls got through the scene, the men were so rough. Still, Rob's cock was heavenly - its olive tone, the foreskin, the big glans, all the details she'd lovingly recorded in her journal. She remembered how good it felt in her pussy; sucking it was like greeting an old friend. At the edge of her vision, Will and George were stripping: four votes for a gangbang, then, and none for a beating. Soon all four of them were crowded around and she was deep throating them one after the other as they pulled her to them by the hair and fondled her breasts and bottom. So far so good. No one was hitting her - not hard, anyway - and she'd done this before. Four cocks were thirty-three percent better than three! Amy was sucking Theo again when suddenly he pulled out of her, scooped her up with strong arms under her back and thighs, and carried her to the pool table, where he tossed her onto the felt. She landed on her back with a thump, heart still pounding, but with excitement now rather than fear as Theo leapt onto the table, got to his knees, hoisted her by the waist, and rammed into her. Rob protested, "Look out for the felt, man," but Will and George, ignoring him, climbed on and half-knelt on either side of Amy's head. She turned towards Will, who shoved between her lips and fucked her throat in a kind of frenzy. Rob stared at the pretty creases in Amy's tummy; his gaze roved up past her fleshy, jiggling breasts, heaving with excitement, to her face, so sexy with Will and George pummeling her. She reminded him of that plump Italian porn star, Valentina something - so hot! Well, they'd have to replace the felt whether he joined in or not. With a sigh, he climbed onto the pool table, straddled Amy's head as Will and George backed up to give him room, and squatted, pushing his cock into her shapely mouth. "Mmmff," said Amy as Rob's balls pillowed over her nose. She stared into his crack, at his hairy anus. Her stomach lurched and she turned her head, losing Rob for a moment; but she recovered quickly, spat out a mouthful of drool, and went back for more of him. Amy wasn't afraid anymore. She was still getting some of the buzz you get from fear, but it had morphed into arousal - not an impulse to flee, but a desperate need for more excitement, more intensity! So when Rob pulled out of her, she gasped, "Somebody fuck my ass!" George shouted "Me!" and lay on his back, holding his thick erect cock. The others hauled Amy upright, and she stepped over him, facing his feet, and eased herself down on him, gasping with the momentary pain and then letting him stretch her slowly, slowly, till he was all the way in. She rocked on George's cock to stimulate herself, let her legs fall wide open, and rubbed her clit. "Oh, yeah!" she sighed as Will's cock loomed on one side of her and Theo's on the other. She sucked them both. Rob stared, mesmerized, at Amy's pussy. He loved a shaved mound, fat outer labia, inner lips hot pink and floppy: Amy's, now gaping at him hungrily, was the pussy of his dreams. For a moment he felt dizzy; he shook his head to clear it, hunkered down between her legs, and pushed into her. Nothing was happening to Amy's body that hadn't happened already in the last few days, but now it was happening all at once. Her sensory input circuits were so overloaded she couldn't sort out the feelings, and it seemed, somehow, to be adding up to way more than four fucks as the boys crowded in, their hot and sweaty bodies suffocating her; they pawed her, pushed her, pulled her, spanked her breasts and bottom, called her bitch and cunt - so fucking exciting. For the better part of an hour they took turns in all her holes, till she was sore and dreamy with tiredness. She didn't know how or when it happened, but somehow it seemed to her she was out of her body, a camera looking down on the action from a corner of the ceiling, seeing herself, plain little Amy, pudgy Amy, red and sweaty Amy, nipples puffed out, snatch dripping, every hole stuffed with these boys who, fucking her, believed they were controlling her and running this show. But no, no, no! This was _her_ movie, _she_ was the star, and the boys were nothing more than extras, brought on to play her worshipers. All the women she'd seen in her favorite porn videos flashed through her mind. How many of them were great beauties? Not fucking many. It was the ability to create sexual excitement that made a porn star, not an actress's beauty, and she knew she could do that. She gazed into the lens that was her own disembodied eye, and through it into the transported faces of thousands of men watching her fuck, wanking in their home offices while their wives, slaving in the kitchen, thought they were doing the taxes - and all at once the sensations went supernova inside her, way beyond anything she'd known with her dildos and vibrators, with what's-his-name in her pussy or Mike in her ass, and she reared back from the cock she'd been sucking and howled out her orgasm, coming and coming, who knows how long, till she was spent and numb and back in her perforated body again. "Fuck," said Rob, whose cock she'd been sucking when her orgasm struck. Understanding that he'd witnessed a seismic event, he watched, struck dumb, cock pulsing in his hand. Will, who'd been fucking her pussy, stood up, grabbed her by the neck, and pulled her up to him. "Yeah, give it to me!" she shrilled, and he put the end of him into her mouth and jerked himself off, just a few rapid strokes before he filled her with his cum - it was thicker than last time, but still sweet. Below her, Theo pulled out of her ass, and his cum fountained up onto her belly and breasts while George gave her face a liberal coating of milky, runny spunk. Finally Rob woke from his trance. Overcome with lust, he jammed into her mouth and, holding her head in two hands, banged her savagely, balls slapping her chin. He stared down at her, taking in her open eyes, his shaft pistoning in her face as her lips and nose crashed into his belly over and over, the sensation of his cock in her narrow passage, impossibly deep, the loud fluid slopping inside her. Her beauty was inconceivable, unbearable: in a spasm of passion, he held her to him tightly, face smashed against him, and pumped his huge load into her, flooding her throat, her mouth and sinuses; it streamed from her nose. They stood and watched as she spluttered and coughed and finally sneezed a glob of Rob's cum into the valley between her breasts. It ran over her stomach and onto her mound. "God damn," said Rob reverently. Many miles away, Jackie and Mike cuddled together, blanket over the two of them, as the 787 leveled off at thirty-five thousand feet. Under the blanket, Mike toyed with Jackie's pussy through her tight yoga pants. "When I get you to Fort Lauderdale, baby..." he whispered, barely audible above the engines' hum. "Ooh," Jackie squealed. Her voice was like a squeaky hinge, but to him it was celestial music. "I'm totally gonna fuck you silly." "I can't wait, sweetheart. And in the morning I'm gonna slather suntan lotion all over you..." Mike groaned "Oh, baby." She was stroking his thigh, so close to his cock. It seemed too long till she'd be sucking it in their hotel room. "And we'll hit the beach, and eat lots of seafood, and dance, and we'll fuck again..." "Oh, yeah," Mike sighed. Who gave a shit about a week of classes? This was the last semester of their senior year and no one expected them to do serious schoolwork. And how often does it happen that you find the love of your life and within a few days of that get twenty-four hundred dollars dropped in your lap with orders to spend it fast? God bless Amy: it had all been her plan. Back in her dorm room, lying on her tummy, the object of Mike's gratitude closed her journal ("Apr. 1. Four frat boys, A197," with details of cocks and cum). She pulled her laptop to her and navigated to a site that recruited college girls for hardcore porn shoots. She found the contact page and started to fill in the form there: Name, Date of Birth, Recent Photo, Kinks... Behind, Rob's wet and worshipful tongue slid into her, a sweet lubricious counterpoint to the sensuous staccato of the keyboard. She wiggled her bottom and filled in another field. Oh, the world was full of wonders - so many beautiful bodies, so many cocks gushing so much cum - and Amy would try as many of them as she could. _Dear Mr. President_ This letter is just a little thing I thought I would write for the president. It isn't for any particular president but I think you will get it anyway. * Dear Mr. President; I am just a poor working slob that goes through the day unnoticed like most people in the busy world. I couldn't even imagine the pressure you must feel everyday trying to do what you think is best for us. Some people put you down, some even hate you for your decisions but do I think they could do better during these troubled times? Heck no, at least you have conviction and belief and are sticking to your guns. So many people now a days talk a lot of crap but never back it up. At least you told us what you were going to do and did it. It didn't matter to you if you were going to go down in ratings or be ostracized for your decisions you did what you said you would. I respect that even though I might not agree with what you have done at least you have done something! It is easy for all of us to play Monday morning quarterback, who wouldn't be perfect if they could live their life in hindsight. It is such a shame others didn't feel like I did. I know you are trying your very best. Isn't that a fundamental teaching when we are children? Could you be doing a better job? Couldn't we all is what I say. I am a person of strong faith and will not cast the first stone. We all make mistakes in life it just so happens when you make one that you are in the public eye and everyone gets to criticize you for your actions. I really don't know how you even manage to sleep at night with all the pressure that is on you. I am surprised more presidents don't die of heart attacks trying to keep the economy strong, keep us safe, and keep crime down. How can one person handle all these impossible tasks? I am proud you stand up for us. I am proud that you do your very best each and every day you are our president. You have a job I don't envy in least. To be so burdened must wear on you considerably and that is a burden I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Most people think a new president is a cure for all and don't understand the intricacies of what it takes to just keep it together let alone be successful at it. I think about how hard it is to just keep a normal relationship going between husband and wife. Simple enough one would think but more people divorce than stay married. And that is just a relationship between two people; I couldn't imagine trying to keep a relationship with the rest of the world. I hear a lot of people at work saying he should do this or he should do that. It really pisses me off because most of these people can't even keep the check book balanced let alone their love lives. I don't understand why they think the decisions you make are so simple. It is like they think you don't even take time to weigh your options. I hear them call you simple or stupid. Well I would like to see them in the spotlight. I bet ninety percent of the population would crumble if they were under the microscope everyday like you are. Even though I didn't vote for you, heck I don't even agree with you most of the time, I get it and I get you. I appreciate your strength and wish you all the best in leading our great country to better times. They call you a war monger but I know why you would rather fight some threat at their house rather than pick pieces up of ours. You are a good man and don't you forget it! You can keep your job as far as I am concerned. I don't want it, wouldn't even know where to begin. Every time a new person gets charge of the country they first have to clean up the mess of the person before them. We are all to blame and non of us are to blame. It is a hard game to sort out and like I said before, at least you are doing something. Good luck in the future Mr. President my prayers are with you and your family. I hope your plan brings us greater peace in the future. Thanking You A Concerned Citizen I offer conclusive evidence of the scientific difference between voyeurs and exhibitionists. "Brenda, wouldn't you agree that guys are voyeurs?" "God, yes," said Brenda wiping a wisp of blonde hair that fell across her blue eye. "Guys are pigs." For the time being, I let that comment go unchallenged. "If you agree that guys are voyeurs or in your words pigs, would you agree that women are exhibitionists?" Now, here is where I get a real argument I said to myself. "Are you calling me a slut?" She took a step forward as if she was about to deck me. "No, Brenda, I'm not calling you a slut. I'm calling you an exhibitionist." "You might as well call me a slut if you are calling me an exhibitionist." She furrowed her brow and folded her arms across her bust. "You just stated that I enjoy exposing my body." "Brenda, just because you are a woman and women are exhibitionists doesn't mean that you are a slut. You enjoy men looking at you, admiring you, wanting you, and lusting over you." "It depends on the man, Freddie," she said moving her lush hair back with a toss of her head. It drives me crazy when she does that. She is so pretty and when she tosses her long blonde hair with her head, I imagine her doing that while she is sucking my cock, if only she would. "See? I told you." "You told me what?" She shrugged and made a face of exasperation at me. "That women dress the way they do to attract the opposite sex, most times, unless they are lesbian, of course." "Okay, I'm listening, but you had better not be calling me a lesbian," she said pointing a manicured finger at me. "You wear a skirt don't you?" "Duh? Yeah, I have one on now Sherlock. So?" "Well, you're showing a lot of leg, there Brenda, and may I add very sexy legs." She had shapely legs from hours of gymnastics, dance lessons, swimming lessons, and ice skating. I looked down at her tits. "And what about your blouse?" "What about my blouse," she said looking down at herself and making sure that she wasn't showing anything. "I can practically see your tits." "You cannot," she said looking down again and rechecking the condition of her blouse and buttons. "See? I told you that I could see your tits, well, your bra anyway." "Gees, Freddie, that's because you're now standing on a chair, staring down at me, and purposely trying to peer down my blouse." "Yeah, well, I was just using the chair as a demonstration aid to show you that, uhm, had I been 7' or taller, I could look directly down your blouse." "Well, there aren't too many guys that tall, Freddie. And those who are that tall are too busy playing basketball to waste their time looking at my B cup boobs." "Okay, then what about the way that you're sitting?" "What's wrong with the way that I'm sitting?" Again she looked down at herself, crossed her legs, and pressed down her skirt with her palms. "I can see your panties." "You're crazy." "Most times, I can." "You can't see my panties." Again she looked down and checked the position of how she was sitting. "Well, not now because you have your legs crossed and you know that I'm looking, but other times, you sit like a guy and give the guys a great view of your pink, yellow, blue, green, and white panties." "Gees, Freddie, now that you mention it, those construction workers were staring across at me when I was sitting on the steps eating my lunch with Connie today." She blushed. "I thought I was sitting with my legs closed, but they probably could see under my upraised legs and up my skirt. Eww! You guys are such gross perverts." "My point precisely, Brenda. My point precisely." "How do you mean your point precisely? That all guys are gross perverts?" "No, but this is further evidence to support what I was saying before that guys are voyeurs and women are exhibitionists." "Okay, I'm starting to understand your meaning, I guess." "Moreover, the reason that guys are voyeurs is because women are exhibitionists." "Okay, I'm following you so far." "Good, allow me to elaborate. Let's say that instead of wearing the short skirt that you are wearing now, you put on my baggy pants." I unbuckled, unzipped, and pulled off my pants and handed them to her and stood before her in my briefs while staring at her. "Okay, I understand where you are going with this, I think." Why are you staring at me? "I'm waiting for you to take off your skirt and put on these baggy pants." "Just 'cause you have no modesty whatsoever and pulled off your pants in front of me, I'm not going to take my skirt off in front of you Freddie." "You're a girl, Brenda; put them on the way that girls put on pants when they don't want guys to see their panties." Brenda put the baggy pants on under her skirt before removing her skirt. "I saw your pink panties again when you lifted your leg to put on the pants." "Pig!" "No, not a pig, but a voyeur, Brenda and I'm proud of it. There's the difference. You say pig and I say voyeur, which is the French word for viewing women in their underwear or naked or something like that, I think, but don't hold me to it. I never had French only Italian." "Whatever," said Brenda putting her hand on her hip. "Now what?" "Take off your blouse and put on my extra-large shirt," I said unbuttoning and removing my shirt. Now, standing in front of her wearing briefs and a tank top, I handed her my shirt. "Freddie," she said stomping her foot, "I'm not about to remove my blouse with you standing in your underwear while watching me." "I'll turn my back." Brenda removed her blouse and put on my shirt. "Okay, now I'm wearing baggy pants and your extra-large shirt. What's the point of all this?" "Gees, Brenda, suddenly, you look so hot in my clothes." I stepped forward and hugged her allowing one hand to feel her round, firm ass through my baggy pants and the other hand to feel the firmness of her supple bra clad breast. "Freddie, get off of me, now." "The point is Brenda that, uhm, I'm confused," I said looking down at myself standing in my underwear. "Maybe, I'm an exhibitionist." "Yeah, and maybe I'm a voyeur," she said leering at he impression that my cock made in my briefs. "Did you know that I can practically see your cock through the thin material of your underwear?" "You cannot," I said looking down at my growing erection. "C'mon, let me see your cock. Take off your underwear and show me your big prick." "No!" I took a step back. "I'm not going to show you my cock, Brenda, you pig." She stepped forward, reached her hand out, and felt my cock through my briefs. "Pig!" I slapped her hand away and she pushed me back against the wall. She was too strong for me. She kissed me deeply and reached down and stuck her hand in my briefs. I could feel her cup my balls and wrap her fingers around my cock. I felt so used and so abused. I felt so violated. I felt like a piece of meat. "Help! Rape!" I mouthed the words in a hushed whisper only no one could hear me. Brenda fell to her knees, took my cock in her mouth, and started giving me the blowjob of my life. Well, that theory of mine about men being voyeurs and women being exhibitionists went down the toilet, but at least I tricked Brenda into giving me a blowjob. Ah, life is good when blondes are beautiful but dumb.

Adventures with Charlotte Part 1 My roommate and his girlfriend had been fighting for a while. To be honest, that seemed to be the only thing they did anymore. I couldn't remember the last time they'd had a pleasant, or even truly civil conversation. The tiniest thing set both of them off anymore, and I was spending more and more time holed up in my room to avoid it. Granted, I was mostly okay with this. It's not like my room was an uncomfortable place to hang out. Still, it would have been nice to be able to trek out to the kitchen or the bathroom without feeling like I was navigating a war zone. Bill and I had lived together for about three years. We met through a mutual friend, and hit it off. When we both found ourselves without a place to live shortly after that, we decided to go halves on a new apartment. It was pretty cool for a while. We hung out, played video games, joked a lot. He wasn't a slob, and he kept up his half of the bills. He started dating Charlotte about a year ago, and she started spending a lot of time at our place. She was pretty cool, too, and very attractive. She was a little bit shorter than me, with long brown hair and an athletic body. Long brown hair down to the middle of her back, bright blue eyes, an adorable smile, and a mesmerizing laugh. She worked as a teaching assistant at the elementary school downtown. She liked jazz music, Chinese food, and old book stores. Sometimes I wondered what she even saw in Bill. He was a cool guy and all, but they really didn't seem to mesh well. He worked in a canning factory, and often came home smelling like pickles or sauerkraut. He was tall, not overweight but not really muscular, either. His shaggy blond hair was always a mess, and never seemed to shave (though it never really grew past stubble, either). He laughed loudly and obnoxiously, listened to heavy metal, and I don't think I ever saw him pick up a book. I didn't have anything against the guy, but he and Charlotte just seemed out of place with each other. Then the fighting started. At first, it was just a simple disagreement about where the relationship was going. Charlotte was the committed type, but Bill didn't seem to know what he wanted to do. Then it evolved to arguing about career choices. That's about when I started tuning it out. Pretty soon, they were picking at each other about every little thing. It was almost like they were looking for reasons to be mad at each other. I stopped keeping track of who started which fight, or who won. I figured it was best if I just stayed out of it. Until the night he hit her. They were already arguing when I snuck out of my room in an attempt to get to the kitchen. All I wanted was a Coke from the fridge, and then to disappear back into my room. "I never said you were worthless!" I heard Charlotte yell. "All I said was-" "That my job is worthless, right?" "I didn't say that, either! There's nothing wrong with your job." "Then why do I need to get out of it?" Bill shot back. "What does it matter?" "I just think there's more potential in something else," Charlotte tried to tell him. She was backing down from yelling, and making an attempt at rationality. "Maybe something else would pay a bit more-" "So, it's about the money! You signed on for the bank account, but it wasn't what you were expecting!" "That's not it, either," she said. "If there's going to be any future-" "Bullshit!" Bill yelled. "You're trying to control me! You have been this whole time!" "No, I-" She never finished her sentence. Bill smacked her clear across the face. She stumbled backward onto the couch, her hand to her cheek. She was just staring up at him, in total shock and unable to speak. Bill opened his mouth to say something, but he never got the chance. The next thing he knew, he was sprawled on the floor in the corner of the living room. As soon as his hand flew at her, I launched myself across the apartment and body-checked him into the wall. It took him a second to realize what had happened. "What the fuck, man?" "You fucking hit her, you asshole!" "Stay out of it, Pete! This doesn't concern you!" "The fuck it doesn't! I stayed out of it this far, because your business is your business. But I'm not gonna let you pull that shit! I'm not gonna let you hit her!" "Do you want me to hit you, instead?" "Try it, dickhead!" He was staggering to his feet. I thought for a second I might have given him a concussion. He managed to stand up, looked me up and down for a second, then seemed to think better of fighting back. "Get the fuck out of here," he said. "This is between me and her." "Not anymore," I said. "You went too far. Get out!" "What?" "You heard me," I said. "Get the fuck out! Get your shit together, and fuck off!" "You can't kick-" "The fuck I can't! GET OUT!" There was a deafening silence while Bill considered his options. Finally, he stormed off to this room, threw some of his things in a bag, and slammed out of the apartment. I turned to Charlotte, who was on her feet, and looked like she had been about to fight back. I went to the kitchen and wrapped some ice in a towel. She placed it on her cheek, wincing at the pain, then sat back to catch her breath. "Are you okay?" I asked. "I will be," she said, forcing her breathing to even out. "You didn't have to do that." "I know," I said. There was no doubt in my mind she could have handled herself. "Instinct, I guess." "Don't think I'm not grateful," she said. "Another second, though, and he was going to get a nut shot." "I believe it." Another thought occurred to me. "Shit...did I just dump him for you?" "I think you kinda did," she chuckled. "Sorry." "Don't be," she said. "If you hadn't, I was going to. I can take a lot, but I draw the line at getting hit." "Makes sense." She pulled the towel away from her face and looked at me. "How bad is it?" There was a nasty red mark on her cheek, but that was all. I had her tilt her head toward the light so I could check for a concussion, but she was fine. "You'll sleep it off," I said. "Speaking of which," she said, putting the towel back on her face, "do you mind if I stay here tonight? I don't want to go back to my place just now." "Sure," I said. "Do you want to sleep in Bill's room, or out here?" "Definitely out here. I don't want to get into that bed ever again." I got her a blanket and a pillow, and a glass of wine to calm herself down. She thanked me, then settled in for some sleep. I left her to it, went back to my room, and started to puzzle out what I was going to do about a new roommate. The answer to that presented itself. Bill came back two days later to clear out the rest of his stuff. To my relief, he didn't make a scene of doing so. He was completely gone by that afternoon. Charlotte, however, showed up that night with a pizza. She had also come to get her stuff, but she wanted to bring an offering of thanks. We ate it together, and she told me about her day at school. I told her about my day, working from home as a freelance journalist. We actually had a good time, and ended up staying up later than either of us planned. It was nearly midnight by the time she left. Another week or so went by, and the next round of rent was coming due. I had enough to cover it this month, but going forward I would have to do some financial maneuvering. I needed a roommate in a hurry, but none of my friends were looking for a new place. I was starting to think about moving again. I told this to Charlotte. She and I had stayed in contact those past weeks, and had hung out a couple of times. She was over again, this time with Chinese food, and I was lamenting my situation. "Actually," she said, "it's funny you bring it up. Turns out...I might be looking for a place to live, too." "Why?" "My roommate wants to move in with her boyfriend," she explained. "I can't afford that place on my own, so I'm going to be looking to move, too. How would you feel about a girl roommate?" She smiled pleadingly, and I smiled back. "I would be totally cool with that," I said. She was moved in by the end of the month, and turned out to be a fantastic roommate. She was clean, kept to herself, on time with her half of the bills, and knew how to cook. That last part was the biggest improvement from Bill, let me tell you. That man couldn't heat up a can of soup. As a teaching assistant, she brought her work home with her a lot. Some nights, when I didn't have a column to write, I would stay up with her drinking wine and helping her grade her students' homework. Other nights I would sit up writing in the living room, and she would read and critique it for me. We had a pretty sweet arrangement going for about seven months. Then...she brought a guy home. I was watching TV in the living room when she walked in. I didn't notice she wasn't alone right away. I just heard the door open and close, but you can't see it directly from the couch. "Hey!" I called by way of a greeting. "Hey, Pete," she called back, as she walked into view. She had just gotten back from the gym, and was wearing a skin-tight workout suit that really showed off her figure. Behind her stood a fairly well-built guy, also in workout clothes. He had short blond hair, a square jaw, and an expression that suggested he didn't know I was going to be there. "Sup?" I said, half greeting half question. "Hey," he said, looking at me all confused. "I didn't know you were seeing somebody." "I'm not," Charlotte said. "She's not," I said, when the guy looked at me for confirmation. "I'm Pete. The roommate." "Zach," the guy introduced himself. I got up to shake his hand. He still seemed unsure of what to make of me. To be honest, I wasn't quite sure what to think of him, either. I had nothing against Charlotte seeing anybody, if that's what was going on. I just didn't know the guy. "You want a beer?" I said, trying to ease the tension. He looked like he was about to accept. He even started to cock a smile. Charlotte took him by the hand, though, and gently started guiding him toward her room. "Actually," she said, " we have something we were going to do." There was a strange urgency in her voice, and I guessed she was just looking forward to her hook-up. I couldn't judge her. It had been a long time since I had gotten laid. If the chance arose, I probably would have been impatient, too. Dude shrugged at me, but he left grinning. I half-saluted them, then went back to what I was watching. Pretty soon, though, I found that I was starting to fall asleep. I shut the TV off, and migrated to my room, ready to pass out. The way the apartment was set up, was that the bedrooms were facing each other across the tiniest hallway ever, which led to the bathroom. As I passed the door to Charlotte's room going into mine, I heard things. I paused, hand on my doorknob, and listened. I couldn't tell exactly what was going on, but I distinctly heard the sound of Charlotte moaning. There was no doubt about it. I smiled to myself, and went into my room. I lay there in bed for a while, just scrolling through my phone, waiting to pass out. As time wore on, though, the noises coming out of Charlotte's room were starting to get louder. A _lot_ louder. Of course I was not a complete stranger to this sound. Charlotte and Bill had had sex in the apartment plenty of times while I was home. Usually, though, I was able to just ignore it. I would put on some music or something and pretend it wasn't happening. This time, though, I caught myself listening. Like, actively listening. What I heard was actually pretty surprising, especially since I had never noticed before. Charlotte was usually pretty laid back and chilled out. She spoke softly, and only raised her voice when she was angry, and usually not even then. Right now, though, she was practically screaming. Those moans had quickly evolved to something significantly bigger. My bed was against the wall clear on the other side of the room from my door, which was shut. I could hear her as clearly as if she were in bed with me. "Fuck yes! Yes! Fuck me! FUCK ME!" There was a knocking sound along with this, which I assumed was her bed slamming against the wall. By contrast, her partner was absolutely silent. I wasn't particularly listening for him, but any noise he might have been making was lost beneath Charlotte. I realized then that I was truly listening. I had sat up, set my phone aside and moved to sit at the edge of the bed. As I said, I had heard her having sex before, but I usually tuned it out. It was different this time. Now, she wasn't my roommate's girlfriend. She was just Charlotte. "Fuck me harder! Fuck me harder!" My cock was standing at full attention. The sounds alone were enough to get me going. But I was free to picture her now. Free to imagine what it must look like to have her sprawled out naked, legs spread, rocking back and forth while getting fucked... "Give it to me! Make me fucking take it!" Now my cock was in my hand. I shut my eyes and just listened. Listened to her moan, and scream, and whatever else she was going to do. Imagined her straddled over me, riding my cock like there was no tomorrow. "Do it! Do it to me! Don't stop! DON'T STOP!" In my mind, it was my cock she was taking. I moved my hand in time with the banging on the wall. I pictured myself flipping her over, my hands placed firmly on her hips, burying my dick into her dripping wet pussy from behind. "Deeper! Give me more! Don't hold back! I want more!" _Yes,_ I thought. _Take it!_ _Take this dick!_ That made me pause for a second. I had never thought like that before. My perverted musings were never quite so...vocal. In all my imaginings and all my experience, I had never said anything like that during sex. I liked it. I closed my eyes again, and rematched their rhythm. Imagined her backing up against me, trying desperately to get every inch of me she could. One hand on her hip, the other pulling her hair. "Fuck! Fuck! Yes!" _You like that, don't you?_ I pictured her back on top of me again, her tits bouncing as she rode me. Imagined her grinding hard against my cock, and the feel of her sopping wet pussy dripping down my balls. Felt her hands on my chest, digging in her nails, practically begging for more. "Oh, fuck, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" Her scream could have shaken the rafters. I thrust up against my hand, pretending I was burying it to the hilt in her cunt as she had an absolutely mindblowing orgasm just for me. Imagined laying her down and plowing into her again. I was holding her wrists down, and her legs were wrapped around my waist. But there was silence from the other room now. That wouldn't do at all. I needed to hear more. My dick still in my hand, I slunk over to the door and pressed my ear against it. I could _just_ make out the faint sound from the other room. Something wet. "That's it," I heard her say. The sound stopped for a second while she talked. "You like that? Are you going to cum for me now?" The sound started again. She was sucking his dick. That was just the image I needed to finish myself off. I closed my eyes again, back to the wall, and imagined her down on her knees in front of me. Imagined her looking up at my while she sucked my cock, one hand jerking me off as she ran her tongue along every inch of my shaft. "Come on," she said, playfully. "Do it. That's right, do it for me...are you close? Yeah? Good. Give it to me. Let me have it all, I want it. I want your cum. Please. Give it to me...give it to me...give it...yes! Aw...yes...that's what I wanted." I wasn't far behind. I did my best to make sure I wasn't too loud as I came, shooting my load across my floor. I hadn't jerked off in a really long time. It hit me harder than usual. I came harder than I had in a long time. I didn't cry out or moan or anything. I just grunted a little, but it felt fantastic. I imagined her taking my load all over her face, catching it in her mouth, licking it off the head of my cock and my dripping fingers. I probably could have cum against just from that image alone. I don't know how much time passed after that, but at some point I had slunk to fit on the floor. When I managed to pull myself together, I grabbed a towel from out of my hamper and cleaned up my mess. I crawled back into bed, fully intending to sleep, but now I couldn't get her out of my head. All I could see when I shut my eyes was those images of her riding, fucking, sucking, swallowing. I felt my cock twitch, threatening to harden again. I don't think I had it in me to go again, but I would definitely be using those images another night, I knew. I wondered, though, if she realized just how loud she had been. Did she know that I could hear her? Did she care? I wondered, too...what would we say about it in the morning?

It was a beautiful Saturday morning as I watched my friend Mark and his daughter, Laura pull up in front of my large suburban home. Mark got out of the Lexus and helped Laura with her suitcase as they made their way to where I was standing on the stoop. My cock had been waiting for this all week. Mark and I shook hands before I gave Laura a peck on the cheek. "Her clothes and some other surprises are in here, Jeff." Mark said, handing me Laura's suitcase "Thanks a lot Mark." I said, putting the suitcase by the door. "Beth should be down in a minute." "No problem." Mark grinned. My eyes roamed over Laura. She was an 18 year old senior just like my daughter, and Mark's eldest child. She had long blonde hair, which was now done up for me in a stylish French twist. She was a little on the skinny side, but extremely cute with soft, babyish features. Her breasts were perky and firm and I could tell she didn't have a bra on under the pearl satin dress I had requested she wear. "Beth!" I called upstairs. "Are you ready yet? Mark is waiting!" "Yes Daddy!" Beth said, hustling downstairs with her own bag. "What took you so long?" "Nothing Daddy!" She said, kissing Mark's cheek and giving Laura a hug. "Baby, tell me what you were doing." I persisted. Beth blushed, trying not to look Laura in the eye. "Well, I was... I was on the toilet Daddy." "And that took fifteen minutes?" "Nothing was coming out..." She mumbled. I asked her to speak up.. "Nothing came, came out Daddy." "Sounds like you're constipated, " Mark said, making Beth's cheeks turn a shade darker. Mark put his arm around Beth's shoulders. "Don't worry about it honey. I'll help you take an enema. Did you take yours Laura?" "Of course Daddy," Laura answered, coming over to stand beside me. "Well, you two have fun and I'll see you Sunday." Mark said. "The day's young after all." "Bye Beth!" I waved, as Mark put my daughter in his car and drove off. I told Laura to put her suitcase in the guest bedroom. She had been to my place dozens of times, so she knew exactly where to go. I had known her since she was born and knew her Dad long before that. I even changed her diapers when she was a baby. It amazed me that she had grown into a beautiful woman so fast. She joined me in the living room, sitting herself on the couch across from my La-Z-Boy. "Do you know why you're here Laura?" I asked her earnestly. "Well, Jeff," she began, "Daddy said that I was supposed to come over here and fuck you." "And why were you told to do that?" "Because Daddy didn't think it was right for him to fuck me himself, so he thought you could do it and tell him how I perform." She giggled. "That's right baby." I smiled. What a pleasant, obedient girl she was. "He also said that I should try to please you and that by getting you off you I'd make him happy. He also said that if there was something I didn't like I should shut my eyes and pretend you're my boyfriend at school, Eric." I smiled. "And how is Eric doing?", recalling that I met him at her parent's house over the holidays. If I remembered correctly, he was a tall, nerdy guy who seemed uncomfortable even talking to his own girlfriend. "He's ok." Laura said, trailing off. "Are you two fucking yet?" "No. He's a bit shy." She giggled. "I'm surprised. You've been with him for so long." "Well, I think he believes I'm a virgin, Jeff." "You can call me Uncle Jeff like you usually do honey." "Is that..." She struggled, "Is that appropriate?" "Why shouldn't it be?" "Well, you already said you were going to fuck me." "Look Laura, you can drop the shy act. Your Dad lets me know everything that goes on in your life and we both know you're a bit of a slut. " Her cheeks flushed. "Well, um..." "I mean, you've had sex right?" "Yes." She said. "With how many guys?" "Three." My cock swelled in my pants. Mark had warned me that Laura had become more sexually active in the last year and he knew she was sleeping around, plus he had been trading her with other Dads in the neighborhood so I knew there was more than three. Way more. I decided to confront her about the fib. "Now honey, I know it's more than three. I mean, does that include Mr. Bently?" She gave me a sigh. "Ok, ok, so I've fucked about twelve guys, but three was at one time, so it's not that bad!" I laughed."You must really like getting fucked." She nodded, giggling now. "Yeah, I like getting fucked. And people like to fuck me. So?" "Well, I'm going to fuck you really hard Laura." "That's what Daddy said. He said you and him used to go to trips to Thailand and fuck women over there. He says you've got a big one." "Think you can handle an older guy?" She smiled warmly. "Well, there's only one way to find out I guess." "Is that your prom dress you're wearing?" I asked off topic. "Yes." She answered. "Don't you think it's beautiful? Feel it!" I came over to the sofa and ran my hand over the dress, making sure to grope her breast in the process. The fabric was so smooth. I had seen a photo of her in it on the mantle atop Mark's living room fireplace and thought it was adorable. It was great that he ensured she wore it for me. I told her to turn around so I could see the back. She turned to reveal an intricate lattice of lace running from her waist to just below her shoulder blades. The gown flowed to the floor. I told her to get undressed for me. "Don't you want to unwrap me yourself?" She asked curiously.. "Actually, I just want to watch you strip for me. I want to see exactly what I'm getitng." She untied the lace at the back of her dress and the front fell away from her boobs, collapsing around her waist. She stepped out of the dress, wearing nothing now but panties, garters and stockings, her nipples proudly standing up. As she peeled her garters down, I took out my cock and started to jerk it. I could tell by the way she reacted she was a bit threatened by the size of it. "Dad said he wouldn't give me my education fund if I didn't do exactly what you said." The edges of her pouting, cherry lips curled up into a half -smile. I sighed. "You're breasts have really developed this year." "Oh thanks. I'm a 34B this year." She said, playing with them in her hands. "The boys must love them." "Yeah, they get excited and try to titty fuck me, but I don't think my tits are big enough for that... Do you?" "I think they're lovely, dear. I'm certain you could give a nice tit-job." I was lying. I reminded myself to tell Mark that he should invest in a big set of falsies for her. "How did you like fucking fours boys at a time?" "Three." She corrected me. "They were all members of the Senior Football team and they were really rough and called me names. Let's just say that for the next four weeks I thought of them every time I went number 2!" "So they fucked your ass!!?" "Yes Jeff!" She said. "Uncle Jeff." " Yes Uncle Jeff!,I was like, you guys have assholes, why don't you fuck each other?" she laughed, " But they got mad and said I needed to take all the 'punishment', as if I wouldn't have just let them anyway! Boys are so weird." "Why were you being punished?" I asked, instructing her to touch her pussy which she did without hesitation, pushing her ivory white panties to the side to give me a good look at her gentle crevices. She traced the fleshy folds of her pussy using her tiny fingers. "Well, I was dating one of them at the time and I cheated on him so they said if I wanted cock, him and his friends would show me who was boss." "And who was boss?" "Not me!" We laughed together. "So you stopped seeing him? " "Well," She said, sweetly. "They made a tape of the incident for the team that they keep on their tour bus and watch sometimes. I got mad that he showed everyone so I dumped him. Anyway, it's cool. He's fucking my ex-best friend now. I'm glad he's happy. Now I'm definitely with Eric." "Well. That other guy didn't sound right for you anyway. Can you turn around and show me your bum?" Laura wiggled around on the couch and spread her cheeks wide. I told her to slip her spread her cheeks, which she did, revealing her baby seal pink pussy and asshole. She swayed her hips back and forth slowly. " Like this Uncle Jeff?" "No baby," I said, continuing to jerk. "Just hold it nice and still so I can get a nice look." I suggested she open her pussy lips and rub the area around her clit. She complied. "Good girl," I moaned, stroking myself as I watched Laura stimulate her teen honey pot. She was dripping a thick liquid I've never even seen come out of a woman's pussy onto the leather couch. It was thick and sticky, like her pussy was drooling.. "Lick up your mess baby!" I told her. Laura turned around and saw the puddle she left. "Whoops!" She said, lapping it up with her tongue. Suddenly, my phone rang. I grabbed the cell from the coffee table and sat back down in the La-Z-boy still with my cock in my hand. I told Laura to come over and sit between my legs. She pulled off my pants and I gave her mouth my cock before answering the call. The display showed that it was Mark. "Hello?" Instead of Mark, it was my daughter, Beth on the other end of the line. "What's going on sweetheart?" I asked, as Laura put her mouth over my dick, starting to suck me deeply into her throat. "Well, Daddy..." Beth began to moan, "Uncle Mark wants to piss in my mouth." I almost laughed. Mark was such a kinky bastard. I should have known. It was cute that she called him Uncle Mark even while talking to me. I did feel sorry for Beth, but I considered that if I wanted to use Laura in a similar way I had to play fair. "Well, I think that's a perfectly reasonable request dear." "But Daddy!" "You get in there and drink every drop." I looked down to see Laura sucking my balls into her mouth. "Understand?" "But won't it make me sick!?" My daughter demanded. "You'll be ok. It's sterile." "You positive?" "Yes baby." I said, not really sure if a person's own urine was sterile or all human urine was sterile. "Ok, Daddy." I could overhear Mark yelling for her in the background. "Go back now baby. Uncle Mark is waiting." I hung up the phone and stroked Laura's hair. "Enjoying that cock?" Laura winked, her tongue worshipping my dick with an eager mouth. I was in heaven. "I think it's time for me to get a condom." I told her, but she stopped me before I could get up. "Actually Mr. Peters. I'm on the pill and I'm clean. You can be inside me bareback." "That's very special," I said, holding her hands and kissing her lips gently, "Thank you." She slid off her garters and climbed up on my lap. Straddling my cock, she eased onto it, allowing it in her inch by warm inch. For someone who loved sex as much as she said did, she was surprisingly tight. "Oh, you're so big in my pussy," she moaned clenching her soft pussy walls against my cock which was already smothered. I pushed her off the couch and onto the carpet, fucking her right on the floor. "Yes Mr. Peters! HARDER!" She cried, as I threw her legs over my shoulder and pounded her tight teen pussy. Her skin faintly smelled of lavender as I licked and kissed her neck. Sticking my tongue in her ear, I could feel her quiver. "That tickles!" She mumbled.. Without collecting our clothes, I led her right upstairs to my master bedroom. My wife was out of town for a week so I knew I could do the laundry tomorrow. Although I felt a little bad for cheating the guilt instantly dissolved when I got Laura on all fours and took her pussy from behind. I told her to put her hand in the top drawer of my nightstand and give me the tube of lubricant. She did so and I squeezed a sizable amount on to my hand. Fucking her pussy, I smeared the gel over her anus and began experimenting with seeing how much of my fingers her butt take. "Are you playing dirty?" I heard her coo. "You'll see." I answered, slipping a full finger into her bumhole. I pulled my cock out of her pussy and licked her clit as I tried a second finger in her bottom. "Ahhh..!!" She groaned, a little surprised. "Do you like having fingers up there?" "Yes, Uncle Jeff. I even have a special plug for my butt. Daddy and mommy bought it for me for Christmas. It's in my suitcase." "You must not have used it too much, because your asshole is as tight as a vice!" I slapped her cheeks. "Go fetch the plug right now." She ran to the spare room to search the suitcase. When she returned in less than a minute, she wasn't carrying the plug. "Um, baby, I think you forgot something." I said. "No I didn't!" She hummed back. I already guessed as she gave me a teasing look and got back on all fours. The plug was already sunk deep in her rectum! She wore it all the way from her bedroom! That's when I knew she was going to give me her asshole without hesitation. I left the plug unmolested in her hole, retrieving it after about five minutes of fucking her pussy. Finally it was time to pull the plug from what should now be her dilated rosebud. I lubed up my cock some more as I gently removed the plug. She arched as the tip slipped out. Laura's gape wasn't big enough to accommodate my entire cock so I did have to force it a little bit, causing her to squeal on a few occasions. One I was getting a good momentum going in her now loosened asshole, I flipped her onto her back and ass fucked her from the front, making sure her legs were tossed over my hips for access. I started slowly, but soon was balls deep in her anus. She kept saying she liked it, but I could tell I was hurting her a little." "It..." She winced, "It feels good, but it's starting to hurt." I decided the best thing to do would be to fuck it extremely hard so it would be over quicker. I fucked her asshole like it was her pussy, trying to get as deep in the hole as I could. I didn't want to do permanent damage, but I did want to let her know she was being anally fucked. Her butt muscles were doing their best to keep me out, but I just pressed through them. Suddenly, Laura screamed and began quivering all over. "Aaaarggh!!! "What's going on baby? I said, stopping... She looked into my eyes. I think I just came." I gave her a kiss and slipped out of her asshole. "I didn't know I could cum from a cock in my butt." She observed, resting. "Don't think you're going to sleep,! " I waved my cock at her. She looked concerned. "You can't put it in my pussy Mr. Peters, because I might get an infection." "You're right Laura." I nodded, "So why don't I finish in your mouth?" She knew it was the only way. Laying back on the bed, I felt myself sinking into the large throw pillows my wife bought as Laura played gently with my oily cock. "It smells a little." She said sniffing the shaft before curling up her nose. "It won't when you lick it all up." She put my cock into her mouth and closed her eyes. She let it past her lips sucking it gently. Suddenly, she pulled it out. I down at her, wondering what was up. She glanced at me her wide emerald eyes. "My butt juices are so sticky!" She laughed. "Eat my asshole while you're down there." I told her. She spread my cheeks and licked my shithole like a pro. I jacked my cock as she worked her tongue further into my ass, her soft hair falling across my balls like a satin sheet. "I'm coming," I said, "Get your mouth on my cock." Laura put my cock in her mouth just in time to receive a thick load onto her tongue. She let the puddle of cum rest there for a while, making sure I acknowledged that she had tasted it before swallowing. We fell asleep for a few hours before fucking again later that night and in the early morning. *** We didn't talk much as I drove her home the next day. I walked her across the family lawn and knocked on the door. Mark answered with Beth, who was standing there beside him, her suitcase packed and ready to go. "Hi Beth, did you have a good time?" I asked my daughter. "Yes, Daddy." She answered. "How did she do Mark?" "Well," Mark answered, "She enjoyed having her pussy taken and sucks cock very well, but wasn't fully cooperative. She positively detested the piss drinking and had a hard time coping with anal. I don't think she's even had her own baby finger in that hole." "That's too bad." I said, dismayed. "Well, I imagine you liked the tightness?" "Normally, but she was so tight, her asshole literally strangled my cock. But I'm sure she'll be more loosened up after more sessions." Beth said nothing in her defense and I was glad Mark agreed to continue. "Plus, it was really hard to clean her out with the enema. You should make her do it daily." "Not a bad idea," I said, slapping Beth's butt as she stood next to me. "Well, Mark, I must say Laura was amazing. What a clean, obedient, beautiful daughter you have. We started in the afternoon and didn't stop until the next day. But I'm sorry to say there was one problem..." I told Laura to walk ten paces in a straight line. When she tried, Mark could see her gait was wide and awkward, like she couldn't bring her feet together. Beth smirked. "Wow Daddy, you wrecked her." "Now, Beth, that's just a bit of soreness." Mark observed. "I'm sure it'll go away in a few days." I told him. It better!" Mark retorted. "I'm trading her for Brian Touten's daughter next Saturday so she better be ready to please by then." Laura gave me a meek smile like she didn't want me to know she was being passed around to others. It did make me a bit jealous, but I figured I'd take it out on her during our next visit. Thanking them both, I took Beth and walked to the car. 'Next Saturday, you'll be with Mr. Henderson. You won't mind doing your Math teacher right? " "No Daddy," Beth said, opening the passenger door.. "His sons might be there too, so expect three cocks just in case." I explained, getting behind the wheel. "In exchange he's letting me take his daughter Carly." "She's really hot Daddy." Beth said, buckling up. "I'm sure you'll like her a lot." "I'm sure I will too, baby." I gave my daughter a kiss on the cheek before driving off for home. Many of you have seen the commercial for McNeil-PPC, inc.'s K-Y Intense which promises to intensify female satisfaction. It features a sedate couple first standing in their pajamas and then in the bed. The woman explains how their quiet lives have changed since they started using K-Y Intense, saying how the simple application of Intense and suddenly you see the woman standing in front of a geyser and then the screen cuts back to the exhausted couple back in bed. K-Y Intense is packaged in an attractive black box, with a container surrounded by pink flower petals emanating from the word INTENSE. The back indicates it "...is the uniquely formulated arousal gel that has women saying 'it makes sex more satisfying.' It brags that _only_ K-Y Brand scientists could create a product designed specifically to intensify a woman's orgasm. The package also indicates that a full "...75% of women who used K-Y Brand Intense experienced heightened arousal, sexual pleasure and sensitivity where it counts most." You know, after reading the package I was more than ready to purchase the product. Well, that is until I saw the nearly thirty dollar price tag. Damn, apparently this stuff isn't your daddy's and mommy's old K-Y Lubricant. I continued reading on the box and saw that there was enough for 20 applications. Okay, working the math told me that my wife could experience the promised heightened experience for just a dollar fifty per experience. Okay, when you think about it, a buck fifty for an orgasm like the geyser they show on TV seems to be a pretty good investment. Well, as a somewhat satisfied user, along with my wife, of other K-Y products I decided to drop the thirty dollars and see what happened. Of course, once you decide to buy this product, you got to pick it up, carry it though the store and then put in on the counter. All this while the entire store is watching you. Yeah, you see it in those mirrors at the end of aisles that keep you from running into each other, well they can see you in those mirrors. Back in the pharmacy they are watching you on the closed circuit TV and in the camera department, they are filming you on their new, digital camcorders. Sure enough you walk up to the counter and hell, there's that cashier that reminds you of your sweet, dead grandmother. After she rings up the half dozen other products you bought so it didn't look like you came in the store just to buy K-Y Intense, she runs the box over the scanner. "Good lord," she says, immediately grabbing the store intercom and calling out for a price check on the K-Y Brand Intense. Now the price that popped up on the register was correct, but the cashier couldn't believe that, first of all, it cost that much and secondly, any fool would spend that on the product. Anyway, after one of the stockers shout back, "Is that the K-Y Intrigue?" The response echoes through the store, "No it's K-Y Intense, it's the arousal gel for her, the box says it intensifies female satisfaction." When the stocker shouts back the price, the cashier looks up and says, "I guess it did scan right." I quickly run my credit card through the machine and grab the package. As I leave the cashier says, "Have a satisfying evening." I walk to the car repeating to myself, "That which does not kill me, makes me stronger." In my car I pause a moment to regain my composure and then start it up to head home. Well, I did survive the drug store and suddenly it's all downhill from here, I thought. The product was purchased and I had it in my sweaty little hands. When you open the product you find a hard plastic tube with a plunger on the top which will dispense the fluid as you need it. The tube comes with an attractive hideaway pouch for travel or hiding in your sock drawer. It also comes with an instruction booklet that not only provides instructions for application of the product, but also a brief tutorial on a woman's clitoris, labia and vaginal opening, complete with a picture. The tutorial is fairly basic: "Women have a part of their body that is devoted to sexual pleasure - the clitoris." It goes on to explain how the clitoris is packed with nerve endings and that clitoral stimulation is important to intensifying the woman's experience and satisfaction. Okay, now that we got the idea where this is going, let's read where the K-Y is going. Yes, you guessed it, you put it on a finger... well, your partner's finger who then applies it to the clitoris: "Gently massage the drop of gel onto your clitoris." Wait a minute, let me read that again. Okay, okay, you put the drop of gel either on the woman's finger or her partner's finger. Then it is applied to the clitoris. When the gel is massaged onto the clitoris the instructions state: "You will begin to feel a unique rush of pleasure and heightened sensitivity." It goes on to say: "Continued massaging will increase arousal." Oh my, the instructions then say it is up to you after that. Damn, this is gonna be fun. I have to admit my wife was skeptical, but willing, figuring that for some thirty bucks this stuff has got to be good. Now, understand my wife and I are not honeymooners or even newlyweds, no those days are long past. The K-Y Intense did me some good as it got me and my wife into bed naked together. I figure that was probably worth at least half the price of the stuff. She actually wanted to have sex, instead of acting like she was on some kind of chain gang. Anyway, we fooled around a bit and then pulled out the little tube. I squeezed a drop onto my finger and didn't feel anything. I then reached over and put it on my wife's clit, or thought I did, anyway, after hearing her complain how I couldn't find that thing even after thirty some years of searching for it, she tried it herself and... and... well, she tried some more. She massaged and massaged. Now the gel is thicker than the lubricant and it seems to dry quickly, so we really couldn't use it as a lube, and as she continued massaging, she had to add some more of this gel so she could keep massaging. Okay, bottom line, she indicates she did feel something like a hot tingling, but it really did nothing to increase her arousal, sensitivity or satisfaction. She tried several more times at which point I began doing some calculations. As I figured before, an application is worth about a dollar fifty, well hell she'd already used what, five drops? Okay, that's seven fifty and this orgasm is starting to get expensive. I mean if a good blow job is twenty five out on North Main Street, then things better get happening with this stuff. A few more drops here and there and nothing happened. We tried it on her clit, on her labia, on her nipples. She then pumped what had to be four fifty worth onto her hand and then began stroking my cock. Well, I didn't even feel a tingling. We finally got into the shower, washed that stuff off of us and then pulled out the old, trusty K-Y Lubricant and well it wasn't a geyser, but it was pretty damn good, especially after all these years. Then, in the afterglow of an enchanted evening my wife said, "Well, let's get this put back together and you can return it." "Return it? Are you crazy?" Yeah, the image flickered before my eyes as I took the opened box to my reincarnated dead grandmother cashier and said, "I want to return this." "Okay, is there anything wrong with it?" "It didn't work." "Well did you use it properly?" she would ask. "Yes, of course we did." "You used this with someone else?" "Well yes, with my wife," I would reply. "And did you," looking down at the package, "gently massage a drop of gel onto your clitoris?" "Well, we put it on my wife's, yes." "You do know where her clitoris is?" she'd ask. "Yes." "There's a picture in the instructions you know." "Yes, I saw the picture." "Now just in case you didn't understand the picture," she'd then lift up her dress and grab at her panties... Then I'd awake from the nightmare, soaked in a cold sweat. "No honey, I am NOT returning the K-Y Brand Intense, I don't care if it did cost nearly thirty dollars." So there you have it, it didn't work. Of course K-Y got my thirty dollars and there is no way in hell I am returning it, so I guess they got their money from me. I'm not entirely sure if this is their marketing strategy, or if my wife was just among the 25% of the women this didn't work for. You're welcome to give it a try yourself, as long as you are willing to part with the thirty dollar price tag. I'll just stick with the K-Y Lubricant. As I sit here, well lie here I think of you, and what I would like to do to you and with you. I can't resist slipping my hand down to my pussy, caressing it softly underneath my shorts. Slowly I begin to seek out my clitoris, gently inserting my finger inside my slightly wet pussy thinking of how I would like to kiss you. How soft I know your lips will be, and how nervous we will both be. Of course it would start as a soft quick kiss on the lips, maybe even just a peck. But I know I will not want to pull away, I will want to stay there, and I will want to slip my tongue inside your mouth. The more I think of this the wetter I become and the more lubricated my finger becomes; slowly I withdraw it a little and search for the nub of my clitoris. As I find it I can feel myself'squirming' slightly as I enjoy the feelings this is creating in me, my mind drifts back to us kissing. I don't know what it is you have unleashed in me (not that it's a bad thing!) but I can't stop myself from touching your body, almost instinctively I reach out and touch your skin for the first time. Your skin is so soft I can't help myself, as slowly I caress your sides, your back; pulling you closer as I do so. I want to touch you more intimately but I am shy and scared to incase it isn't what you want. Sensing my fear I would hope you would touch me back, softly stroking my back the way you know I love. Sighing slightly against your lips I slowly move my hands to your breasts, shaking slightly as I go. Hoping I was gentle enough and this was making you happy, you know I always worry about hurting you and you feeling uncomfortable. Closing my eyes I can see you before me as I slowly begin to seek out my clitoris, tensing and relaxing myself as I do. Slowly I continue to caress your breasts and kiss you softly, alternating between soft kisses upon the lips and deep passionate kissing while slipping my tongue inside. Wanting and needing more I can no longer hold back, I need and want to know what it feels like; touching you somewhere I had only recently myself been able to touch on my own body. Making sure you want to go down this road, we head to the bed and lay side by side softly stroking and caressing each others bodies. As I kiss you deeply, I begin to slowly slide my hand down towards your pussy swallowing hard as I am inches away. Praying and hoping you don't pull away now and searching for a sign I tenderly move closer, as I let my fingers touch you I almost hold my breath swallowing hard again against your lips. I would hope a soft moan would escape from your lips against mine letting me know it was ok to continue. As I lay here my eyes shut, I am thinking of you while I alternate between rubbing my clitoris and coating them with my juices from my wet pussy. Enjoying the feeling of my hand and fingers have upon me, wishing slightly it was your own fingers and hands doing this to me; creating these feelings in me. But that can be for another time; right now all I want is to please you; to touch you; to taste you. Letting my mind drift back to us, I can see the images of us kissing deeply and passionately as I slowly use my fingers to search out your pussy. Having already touched the outer lips I slowly slide one of my fingers inside, amazed at how it makes me feel and hoping it makes you feel the same way. Sliding my finger out of you I begin to seek out the nub of your clitoris, again slowly I stop just short and hold my breath again hoping and praying you don't push me away. Feeling how you don't object and pull away I slowly and softly begin to rub lightly, hoping you are enjoying it taken aback by the fact that I am. Pulling back I want to speak I want to say something, anything but find the words get stuck in my throat. I feel like it's a now or never moment, I know I will never do this again if it isn't with you. You make me feel safe and loved, if we were an item I wouldn't be scared or shy or worried or afraid I would just feel loved and wanted and hopefully needed. "Do you want me to stop?" I finally found my voice, finally found the words I wanted to say. Looking into your eyes I see no objection which leads me to my next question, looking you square in the eye I pray this will not upset things between us. "May I use my tongue on you?" Touching you with my fingers to indicate I want to give you oral, I see a fear in your eyes and know it's not me you see. Pulling my hand away I hold you in my arms, hoping and praying our friendship will last. Knowing it would kill me inside if I lost your friendship over this, although I would know I wanted this I can also see that you don't. You know I would never push, rush or force the issue upon you. Whatever happens or doesn't happen is something two best friends could deal with and not let it affect their friendship, holding you tightly in my arms I kiss your forehead and slowly close my eyes. Feeling how my heartbeat and breath begin to return to normal, falling into a light slumber knowing that I would always love you no matter what.

**My Darling Husband** I pick a train that still has old fashion seating. That is, four-seat cabins, two seats facing each other. The 8:10 from Seattle, non-stop to San Francisco. My husband was more than a little anxious. Martin is 39, 15 years older than Ryan. Martin is a great provider as a husband, but that's where it ends. It's not that he is a terrible lover, it is just in the last couple years I have needed more. As I've fantasized about taking multiple lovers, being the center of a gangbang, Martin has become enthralled. You see, we both want to be dominated in the bedroom. So I treat Martin the way I dream of being treated, and he loves me for it. Every week we seem to take it a step further, my emancipation, and his confinement. On the weekends Martin lives in girly panties that I pick out for him. He loves it when I make him suck my cock (my strap-on). I love it when he begs for me to fuck his ass. This is the only fucking we've done in ten months, not that either one of us has complained. Things had progressed in the last year to the point where I have impulsively picked up a few men. Martin would wait up and I would tell him all about how random it had been, the size and shape of their cocks, and how slutty I was. The most promising of these was Ryan. After I met Ryan at the therapy session, I told Martin all about how he flashed me his big cock and how I got on my knees and was a submissive little slut. This burned my adoring husband. He told me the reason is because he hadn't been there to hold my hair back as I slurped on that giant cock. I accept this as the only right answer. The next night, after the 'date' I have planned with Ryan, Marty meets me at the door, on his knees. On his own accord, Marty had put on his "behave" panties and nothing else. I barely have time to put down my purse and Michael is begging for details, "Would you like me to kiss your pussy, my Love?" "Pour me a glass of Cabernet and meet me in the bedroom." I'm realizing that I got carried away with the spanking. I probably shouldn't have asked Ryan to spank me harder a second time. I slip out of my jeans and pull back the covers. I lay on my stomach in only my bra and panties, too sore to roll over. Marty comes in with the wine, "Be a good boy and slowly take off my panties." "Can I lick your bottom my darling wife?" Marty submissively asks. "Pray tell, my little ass licker, you do seem awful eager tonight. Tell me why you want to lick my ass so bad?" I ask while thinking about my painful, sticky ass. My adoring husband takes the bait, "Well, you said you had a date tonight, and in the past, sometimes, you have..." "For fuck sake, Marty. You can just say it. You want to clean the residue, the cum off my ass." I answer roughly. "Go ahead, get the fuck over here." I'm starting to calm down as I take a sip of wine. In between licks of my ass, Marty chimes in, "Wow, he really made your ass purple. How many swats is this?" "You know, I can't help but feeling this is mostly your fault. If we didn't have this arcane agreement about when I should and should not fuck men, you would be licking my well-satisfied pussy instead of my tender bottom," I try to reason in Dom nomenclature. "I'm sorry Mistress, I love licking your bottom," Marty retreats and calls me Mistress, a name we reserve for when I am feeling most dominate or he is feeling most submissive. "I know you're sorry. That's enough on my booty." I say while sliding up, straddling a pillow, and arching my back as much as pain will allow, "Lick my asshole. Show me what a good ass-licking whore you can be." Marty goes to work, lapping my hole, rimming my asshole. I tell Marty all about the San Francisco trip. "Remember he's going to get all of my attention, my pussy, my mouth, even my asshole - if his big cock will fit." I commiserate, "part of me is wondering whether I can satisfy his... it must be nine inches!" Marty takes an extra breath and replies, "I'm excited Mistress, this sounds like a big deal." "It is, it is a big test for a subby like you. Do you think you can handle that, my Darling? Surrendering your wife to a young stud for the weekend?" I earnestly ask Marty. "Do you think while I'm watching you take his big, hard cock, I will be allowed to cum?" Marty whimpers, remembering that he hasn't cum in more than a week. "I'm so devoted to you, your beautiful pussy and asshole, your needs, I'd do anything, you know that." "Man, you talk a lot for an anal whore. I don't want to listen to any more devotion, I want you to SHOW me some devotion. Show my butthole some fucking devotion! Can you do that?" I say irately, sometimes it pays to be a bitch. It isn't long before my pep talk is paying dividends. My adoring husband has my ass gaping with just his tongue. I reach down and massage my clit. "Good boy, good boy, don't stop." I repeat as a I rub myself closer and closer to the edge. I laugh at the irony with a perverted smile on my face. I call my 39-year old husband 'boy,' while I wait for a 24-year old'man' cock. I reach back and pull my Marty, my martyr, deeper into my ass as I curl up and loose balance, both of us falling over in a heap. "Thank you, Mistress. Thank you for your ass." \----------------------------------------- Marty and I arrive at the station before Ryan. Part of me is wondering whether he has backed out. We take some drinks from the bar car and head to our cabin to try to relax. The cabin has two sets of bucket seats that face each other and partially recline. The windows to the car open to the hall. This doesn't provide much privacy but there are lace curtains that can be drawn. The train starts and Ryan is nowhere to be found. It looks like the kinky weekend may have to a twosome. After the conductor comes by, I draw the sheer curtains, turn down the cabin lights, and turn my attention to Marty. We both recline a quarter of the way, "Why don't you show me what you got under those pants?" I proffer. Marty slowly unzips his fly. He is wearing his pink panties, a bold choice. I slowly massage his package through the pink silk. "My darling husband, how many days has it been since I allowed you to cum?" I smile, still teasing his erection. "12 days, my beautiful Miss Patricia. Sunday. Sunday will be two weeks." Marty meekly replies while watching my strong fingers, "That morning you fucked me doggy, and I accidently came on the kitchen floor? Marty spreads his legs to show me that, since we left the house, he's been holding our butt plug called "Detention" (because it is big enough to focus naughty boy's attention). "I guess it has been two weeks. I don't remember assigning Detention this morning?" I scold, "Are you stretching your ass because you were hopeful Ryan would put his big cock in it, my dirty little whore?" "Remember, I don't want you to compromise your commitment to self-denial," I add, trying to keep track of my priorities. "If this happens, I don't want you to get caught up in the moment and cum without permission." I squeeze his balls, "I would be very displeased, my darling husband." "I am here for you, My Love. I'm only interested in cumming if you think I have earned it." Marty can express fealty with the best of them, "That Sunday I just let myself get to close, I just get so excited when you take me from behind, but it won't happen again." "Ryan was far from a sure thing, anyway." I sweetly smile thinking about how my role for this weekend quickly morphed from vessel to lance, that is, who will be fucking whom? Just then, Ryan enters the cabin! Juxtaposed to Martin I'm blown away to how young he looks. With his bag on his shoulder he looks as if he's a sophomore in college heading home for Thanksgiving break. "Whow, we gave up on you. Where you been? I was afraid you weren't coming." I inquire unable to hold back my glee. "I was drinking in the bar car, I am still a little nervous," Ryan answers in a very mature way. I introduce Ryan and Martin. Ryan thanks him for the train ticket and everything else. Surprisingly they shake hands. Martin's hard cock is still pushing against his panties. To his credit, at this stage, he doesn't try and hide his proclivities. Ryan sits across from me. I reach back into my husband's lap and drape his shirt over his hard on. Ryan tries to hold a conversation about making the train. With my middle finger I outline Marty's cucumber through the fine package. "I don't know if I'll be able to relax. I haven't done anything like this before, or even really thought about it," Ryan honestly expresses apprehension. His naiveté is endearing. I recognize that it is my job to break the ice and I offer a solution. "What if I came over there, sat in your lap, kissed you would that help you relaxed?" I ask with a horsey grin. "That might work." Ryan answers using his best poker face. I leave my seat without even looking back at my husband. I slowly straddle Ryan and kiss him longingly. I'm kissing him as if he is my long, lost lover. This is a crazy, courageous thing for a novice to agree to and I want to show my appreciation. I'm wearing a black stretchy sweater. I grind on Ryan, pull down my top and show him my tits for the first time. At 32, my nipples are still defying gravity. He puts a hand on each and looks over at Martin for approval. I do not turn my head but focus my attention on Ryan. I slide off his lap and onto my knees. "The last time I saw you I think I said something about three minutes. Can you stand in front of the door?" I ask Ryan. He stands, back to the door obscuring the view of any voyeurs. I undo his belt. "What about Marty?" Ryan asks, a little perturbed that he is in this small space with us. "Oh my darling husband. I need you to turn and face the outside window," I feel powerful and excited. Marty does as I ask, and Ryan is only partly relieved. I unzip his jeans and pull out his magnificent cock. My immediate instinct is to show it to my husband, but he is almost directly behind me. I grab it by the root and treat it like my lolli. I'm under some pressure to make his blow job better than the first. "Oh my god...You're sucking me so good. Please don't. Please don't stop," I take it as deep as I can. Down to my hand, at least six inches. It shines with my saliva. I feel my pussy overheating. "Oooh, You like it when I suck you like this?" I tease, "I think I remember you like it when I lick your balls, right?" My cunt is more than excited. This is every housewife's dream. In some ways this is my Everest. I lick the sweat from the back of his balls. I can't remember the last time I did this for Marty. I want to rub it in and show my husband how mean I can be in the right company. "His balls taste so good, Marty. Like candy." I groan as I look back at my horny husband, listening but not seeing, probably with at least one hand in his panties. I entertain the possibility of anal with this nine-incher. I would give it to him right now if he wants. Slow down, I tell myself. Ryan is holding my head tight, he wants to cum, cum in my mouth. With some effort I pull myself away from his shiny, stiff cock. With his pants around his knees Ryan sits, I sit across from him. "Ryan, Can I take my pants off?" I ask coyly. "Can I take these off too?" I take my panties off. Naked from the waist down, I drape my right leg over the arm of the chair to offer Ryan a better view. This is the first time Ryan has really seen my pussy and I want to give him a show. I drop my hand in front and then gently groom the brown tuft on my mound. "Do you like it?" I ask rhetorically, "I just got it waxed yesterday." I slowly slide my finger through my pussy lips. "Mmmm, It's beautiful," Ryan focuses in on my pussy while he wraps his fist around the bottom third, "I'm hoping you're going to come over here and sit on this in a minute." I dip one and then two fingers into my cunt and spread the juice on my clit. "What's your hurry. I love to watch you stroke that giant flagpole. Besides, I thought you didn't mind showing it off." Ryan, continues his rhythm, "I like showing you." "Oh my god, it is so beautiful. Do you mind if we show it to my husband?" I ask Ryan while licking the nectar from my middle finger. "He's not jealous, that his beautiful wife was just sucking my cock," Ryan. "He's jealous that he can't look at it right now. He's not angry, he's horny." I add while I pinch my nipple with my left hand. "Let me show you. My darling, husband, I want you to bend over and grab the wall and show us your beautiful pink panties." Without hesitation, Marty leans against the wall and pushes down his pants. Ryan stops stroking his cock for only a second. "My adoring husband, show Ryan why I call you an anal slut." Marty reaches behind himself into the leg of the panties and reveals the mid-size glass butt plug. "You see, Ryan, he's as harmless as a lamb, he just came a long way to see the cock that I am in love with." I move over and sit on the same side as Ryan, and wrap my hand around his cock. I lean forward kiss my husband on the forehead and tell him it is ok and he can turn around. I revel in the scene. Me in control. My husband still on his knees, with his hand in his panties, salivating at this youngster's wet cock. I throw caution to the wind. I ask Ryan to shift down in his seat and then I mount his pole. Seven, eight, nine stokes and I've taken the whole thing it my cunt! That's how wet I am! I arch forward and then back, gyrating on his big cock. My god! It is everything that I hoped for. Ryan is tonguing my long pink nipples. I bounce my ass the length of his cock and look back at Marty. "Oh my god, my loving husband. It is stretching me so good. I wish you could feel this wonderful, hard cock, baby!" I add sincerely, breathlessly. Marty's gaze is fixated on the fulcrum. I feel a little selfish. I want him to think about being penetrated. "My Darling husband, I want you to stop stroking your dick and take hold of Detention." Marty wants me to Dom him. Needs me to Dom him. "Pull Detention out of your ass and slam it back in!" I command. Marty does it without question, taking it 98 percent out before working it back in, never losing sight of his wife's gorgeous ass. "Do it again, Darling, my anal whore. Fuck your ass," I command again. Marty pushes hard against Detention. After several times, his asshole loosens, and pain turns to pleasure. "Good Boy. Now just sit on it." Ryan has never seen this side of me, the Domme side. I want him to know my anger is only directed at my husband. "Oh my god, Ryan. Am I fucking you good, baby? Do you like married pussy?" I mangle my ideas as my head swims. I come off Ryan for a moment. I stand in front of Marty sitting on the hard plug, panties around his knees. "Kiss my cunt," I order my husband. He affectionately leans in and kisses my swollen lips. I'm still catching my breath and not yet quite ready to remount Ryan's stalk. I turn my back to Marty. Ryan and my eyes meet. I put my left foot on Ryan's seat and with my left hand spread my ass. I look over my shoulder at Marty, "Lick my ass, Darling." Dutifully, Marty closes the distance and starts lapping up my asshole. I don't know exactly why I said it. I was content to have Ryan focus on my pussy. Ryan considers shifting forward in his seat and licking my pussy. Instead, I wrap my arms around his powerful arms and arch my back, shoving my ass against my husband's tongue. In the moment, it feels like a revelation! I love dominating my husband. And I love pushing my asshole against a willing tongue. After my knees become weak, I turn 180 degrees again. Ryan helps my pussy find his cock and before I know it, I am in heaven again. This time, my back is against Ryan's chest. I lean against him exposing more of my cunt to Marty. I'm grinding slow, legs spread, wrapped around Ryan's. I want Marty to come to us. Serve me. Serve Ryan. Be Ryan's cock whore. "Come here my darling husband, lick my clit," one step at a time I say to myself. Marty kneels closer, balancing himself between Ryan's and my legs. He brings his head close to please me. Without warning, Josh's nine-incher pops out of my sheath. I slide up a little and Marty delicately holds Ryan's cock and presses it against my pussy. I am never prouder of Martin as my pussy swallows the phallus in front of him. I hold Marty's head against my clit as my orgasm mounts. "Oh my god! Oh my god!" I cry. I start having mini-tremors through my torso. I push Marty's head, "Lick his balls, my adoring husband. Clean his balls! Show me you want it." Marty starts ferociously tonguing Ryan's sack, "Make him cum, Darling. Feel his load as it pulses through his cock...into your wife's pussy." I feel like the Pele of threesomes as Marty's mouth latches onto the root of Ryan's cock. I can feel a big part of Ryan isn't ready for this, wants Marty to stop. But his eyes are glazed over and even he can't stop the impeding climax. While I try and hang on, Ryan's geyser floods my cavern. "Thank you, Ryan... Thank you, Ryan... Thank you for giving me your cock." I whimper in between each pulse of cream. Ten seconds later my legs are still shaking as I collapse into the opposing seat. "My Darling Husband, did you like that?" "My god, are you o.k? If I could only fuck you like that." Marty intimately remarks. "You have other attributes, my Darling?" I lovingly reply. Marty needs no further encouragement. I spread my legs in the chair and like a wounding puppy dog, my husband' head nuzzles between my thighs. He starts with the cum that has already already drizzled out of my cunt and onto the seat. "Oh yeah, my adoring husband. Lick every drop of my boyfriend's seed from every crevice. Mmmm... You are such a whore for cum. I think that's why I love you." I say only half-kidding as I reach my foot down between his legs and tap the plug with my toes. Marty's devotion drags me over the edge and I squeeze his head between my legs. As I'm quaking, more of Ryan's juice is pushed from deep in my pussy, missing Marty's mouth and staining his chin. Marty is still on the floor. Ryan is still across from us. I know Marty wants to lick Ryan's cock clean, as well, but I don't push it. The outer lights of the train come on and were all pulled out of a sexual trance. We shuffle to our seats, Marty and me on one side and Ryan on the other. We grab three small blankets that the railroad provides to cover our laps. I don't bother to put back on my pants but pull up my sweater to cover my tits. Ryan and Marty both keep their pants mid-thigh. The ride is quiet for a while. The sexual energy has disappeared, all for except Marty who still hasn't cum in almost two weeks. I take mercy on him by playing with his cock under the blanket. At home we have a rule that he is not allowed to cum unless he is also licking either my pussy or my ass, it's a good rule. We both pivot in our chairs so that we are more than less facing each other. I give him my foot which he puts up against his erection. Marty is close to popping, and he loves my feet. He slowly grinds his cock against the sole of my foot in adoration. "How's that feel, my darling husband? Could you possibly think of a better way to cum?" "No my beautiful wife. I can't think of a better way to cum." Marty responds dutifully. By the look on Ryan's face, I can tell this isn't his brand of kink. In the moment, I don't care. "My feet are all you deserve, with that average cock of yours. Tell me. Do you dream of my feet? Or do you still dream of my pussy wrapped around your cock?" I'm having too much fun giving my husband what he craves. "I dream of pleasing you, and your beautiful feet, your beautiful pussy, and your beautiful asshole." Marty meekly replies. "Did you here that, Ryan? My husband thinks I have a beautiful butthole?" I press harder on his cock with my foot. "My adoring husband, tell Ryan when the last time your cock was in my pussy?" "It has been 16 months, Ryan. I love you Miss Patricia." Marty replies as he is uncomfortably pinned against the arm rest. "I love you too. Tell Ryan when was the last time your ass was fucked by my strap on," I direct as the excitement grows of Marty's growing climax. "It was last Sunday night," Marty answers without looking at anything but the life being squeezed out of his dick by my foot. "Tell him how you enjoyed it," I start to shift my foot up and down. "Ahh, I had been good all day. And Miss Patricia had me clean myself out and then wait. I waited six o'clock, an hour, an hour and a half on all fours in the middle of the living room, on all fours. Miss Patricia came in, greased up her red strapon, and fucked me. Fucked me so deep. I had to keep begging her to slow down, I wasn't allowed to cum. Don't cum on the new rug. Not allowed to cum. Oh my god, it lasted, it lasted..." Marty answers in panic mode. "Cum for me, Cum for me, my little fucking bitch," I give Marty what he needs as he reaches a violent if ruined orgasm, "Oh yeah, good boy, good boy, your such a good boy." I let up on the pressure and the other half of his cum leaks out on his stomach. "Thank you Mistress. Thank you Mistress. That was amazing." Marty grovels. I spread my cum-covered toes in Marty's face. Ryan looks anxious. "Ryan, can you give me and my husband some alone time?" I implore while still holding my gooey toes just out of reach of Marty's mouth. Ryan seems only too happy to give us our space and announces he is going to the bar car. As soon as Ryan leaves, I dangle my foot in Marty's mouth. "Mmmm. Good boy. That's it. Lick your cum off my toes. Get it all, lick between the toes," I advice in a lazily manner. As my adoring husband worships my foot I tell him how proud I was of him. "Our first true, cuckold experience, and you did pretty good my loving husband. Waiting like a good boy the whole time. Did you enjoy it? Watching your wife's pussy get stretched around by that handsome young stud? Tell me your favorite part?" Marty passively answers, "I loved it, my beautiful wife. I loved watching you ride that big hard cock. My, my favorite part was when you pushed my head to lick his balls. That was amazing, servicing the cock that was inside you." I approve, "I figured as much, my cock-slut of a husband. I was hoping you would get a chance to suck it. Oh well, the weekend is still young. Maybe if your extra good your loving wife will make that happen." I pass out with my husband massaging my feet husband's arms in happy contentment. Waking up an hour before we arrive in San Francisco, Marty tells me Ryan has not come back yet. I decide to search the train for him. I know he crossed a lot of sexual boundaries for the first-time last night and might be feeling a little confused. I find him sitting along the bar drinking alone. We engage in small talk, then the conversation shifts dramatically. "I'm going to hang out today with an old college friend today." Ryan expresses with some apprehension. "Good. Marty and I will just check into the hotel, probably take a nap and then venture out around four and do a little exploring," Trying to sound as reasonable as possible. "Would you like to hook up with us later?" I say as I slowly stroke his thigh. "Well, I'd like to. I don't know. I don't know what time would be the best? I have to say I'm little in shock by having your husband there. That wasn't part of the deal." Josh says earnestly. "I want to spend some more time with you. You had fun didn't you?" I bring the hand that was on his thigh to his package. "Why don't we say a 11 tonight? Meet us at our hotel. If you're not there by 11:30 we'll know you're not coming. Fair?" I feel his cock start to grow. "I want to show you something," I say while placing 'Detention,' the butt plug, straight up on the bar. Ryan acts alarmed, "Oh no. I don't think I'm ready." "I know you're not, Ryan." I reassure, "The plug isn't for you. It is for me. That last girlfriend you were telling me about, she ever ask you to put that big cock of yours up her prissy little ass?" "Ah no, not, not, not really." Ryan remains stunned. "I didn't think so." I slowly wrap my fingers around the widest part of the 2 ½ inch glass plug, "Well, for my boyfriend, for you, well, consider me your little anal slave." I dig my hand under his balls and apply a little distraction, "And if I'm being honest Ryan, I have never had a cock that big before up my tight little asshole before?" I slowly get up and whisper in his ear, "I thought the least I could do is stretch a little, so you can pound my ass as hard you want." I've tried to figure it out, sometimes, until my brain is almost ready to explode into tiny pieces, and I think I see a glimmer of sense, a moment of truth, of things coming together. But then, then everything is tangled again, I know nothing, I don't even want to know, to try anymore. But this dimension, it refuses to be ignored, insists on being analyzed, merely by virtue of the fact that the stakes, the stakes are high, the potential for implosion is too great to just "let it be". And I so I analyze, I calculate, I sort thoughts like currency, look for reasons and answers, for the "why" the "how" the "why not", and once in a while, I nearly have a grasp, almost understand, at least a little. The confusions: It doesn't make you "happy". None of it does, does it? Even the real - it can excite you, exhilarate you, make you feel so, so, so extraordinarily alive, blast your mind and body with ecstasy for thirty seconds at least. Enable you to feel new sensations. But is it possible that the expectation for a future encounter would possibly exceed the actual events? Would you be disappointed? Maybe conquering most, if not all, of your lifelong fantasies, actually living them, would let you down. Wouldn't have been worth it. And the, the other extreme, for me, the problem could be that the possibilities seem so endless. Would enough ever be enough? There would always be another scenario, something else to try, somewhere else. And just penetration, over and over, that never grows dull in my world. And simply being near you, that could never grow dull either. But if enough were enough, for you, if just experiencing a handful of mind-blowing, never-felt-before moments left you fulfilled, finished, ready to move on, then would I keep plaguing you for more, after you were finally ready to shut it down? Would you feel trapped, burdened, obligated, and therefore, miserable? Would you resent me, do you already? These are questions, questions I can't answer. And maybe they don't matter. Here we are, kind of somehow caught in eachother. At times, in deciphering the meanings of what you say, I think I hear this: you've weighed the risks and decided some things are worth their weight in pain. But I'm not sure which voice that is, which voice is the true you, or if they all are. Sometimes I think you do care, about me, that I matter as something a bit more than a compulsion, based on things you've said before, or a hint of something in your actions, a certain tone in your voice. Not that it matters, or maybe it does. Of course, I'd never ask to hear you say it, it's not like that. That would, quite likely, ruin everything. And frankly, at this point, I appreciate whatever you give me, even though it hurts to think... it hurts you. Sometimes, I feel like I've made you happy, but then, you assure me that no, that's never possible. Especially now, now that I bring this extra stress every into your already stress-drenched life, and your once safe end-of-the- week place to go and relax and talk about anything and entertain and be amused has become another kind of place, and honestly, I'm not sure what place you want the most. Or if they can be combined. There are lots of answers, all swimming around in my head, at the same time. But none taking root. Me: I'm a nymphomaniac, apparently. According to certain statistics. And so I wear my sexuality like a musk, I can't contain it, it leaks out, bursts out, covering my life, including the part of it that's you, in a milky glow, and there's not much I can do about it. I always wanted to connect with you, be part of you. Crawl inside your brain and curl up there. But you were always just out of reach, just going away any minute, mostly untouchable. And then the unexpected happened, I couldn't believe it, dreamlike, stimulating. Thrill washing through me, I was overwhelmed, captivated even more than ever. Because something triggered something, and your mind was more exposed to me than I'd thought possible, and your mind connected to your body, and all of it, all of you, was perfection, a kind of sacredness - incredible, like all human connection found in one being. So when you said to make it stop, for your sake, mine, everybody else's, I couldn't, just couldn't. I tried, but the pull was too strong, the taste hypnotic. A drug. I didn't feel guilt (maybe this brain is just twisted enough not to be able to, regarding you.) Like some kind of destiny, halfway right, halfway meant to be... my insides, outsides, whole self being satisfied, but then driven wild with greater appetite, satisfaction becoming craving, becoming satisfaction, turning back to extreme craving, then fulfillment, over and over. You: You simply say you have addictions, you lack control. When your addiction met my passion, and they recognized each other, that was it. Convergence. No control for anyone. Now, you live in a state of panic of "us" being discovered, of your life crashing around your head, your future plans shattered, because of this, because of me. I would fix it for you, if I could. And that's why I analyze, to try to understand. You say you can get it all - this day to day stuff that we share - and more, with a good porn site. That there's no emotion involved whatsoever, no emotional connection to the actual person, the "me". But then, that being said, what I don't understand is - why you seem to want more, why your continued appetite for the virtual... me? Why instead of just perusing a site, you'll reach me? (And proceed to "make my day" I might add.) You said once, "The mind behind it." That's a logical point, and frankly, very high praise, the "stuff of Anthony and Cleopatra". It moves me, does more for me than having my body raved over. The mind, the mind is a powerful thing. However, you could still have my mind, without "partaking" of my body. You know that. Yet here we always are. So, another factor: customization. You have discovered that yes, I will at least attempt to do absolutely anything you hint at possibly enjoying. With gusto, with great delight, virtually, or in the real world. Maybe that's powerful because, maybe you couldn't get that just anywhere. Oh yes, I'm sure there are plenty of females, with more appealing bodies and at least similarly creative minds who would customize for you, but most likely, for a fee. Not really for you... not like I do, not finding the arousal and pleasure I get from just making your eyes widen, your mouth open, your brain spin; perhaps that's the magnet, the part that makes you not able make the last time stay the last time. The part that makes your actions defy your words, that makes your morning, afternoon, evening minds so different. And that's the part I can't control, the part I can't change, the me that would do anything to please you in any way I know how. Including exposing my vulva and breast at a drive through, or cumming hard on a cucumber in a parking lot, or learning to walk like a hooker in five inch heels and micro skirts. The real: I'll never forget when you told me (after some conversations where I had no idea that describing the way I work, think, feel was out of the ordinary) that I was the only female you'd met who could actually fulfill a number of your fantasies. How the power of the possibility of what you'd imagined becoming real was mindblowing, how the notion of fantasy crossing into reality was irresistible. There's been some real... I know, I was there. I felt that amazing dick between my legs, in my mouth, deep in my throat. I absorbed the scent of your skin, touching, breathing you in, felt those oh so strong hands in all the right places, experienced your gifted mouth. Felt your breath, your voice vibrating through every fiber, your mere presence alighting my cells. I could go on and one, except the words for what it means to me, they don't exist. All I know is, I'm overcome, didn't know I had the capacity to feel so much, to live so much blood racing fire and want, to have that gut-wrenching, pulse raising, whole body reaching toward climax, just because someone brushed my body in passing. The real, well, that makes the "other" very pale, and weak, and, yes, worth putting away. I believe I could do it, set aside the imitation, wait for something more valuable if, if I knew it were certain. Knew that I could be with you, alone, long enough and safe enough to let go of my consciousness. That you could really come inside me, all the way, deep, deep, full. That I could writhe on you, engulf your hard shaft with my ravenous, engorged pussy, let you feel the throb, the pulse of my pleasure, gush essence all over us, feel your warm, wet explosion filling every crevice. Flesh on flesh, slick with oil, my skin drenched and flushed, our muscles pulling and straining together. I want you to take my body, and do whatever you want. Enter it anywhere, in any way. From behind me, driving into my anus, watching my muscles constrict, legs tighten, trembling. I want to be consumed while consuming. I want you to let me fill your face with my cum, pulling your head in tight between my soaking, open thighs, shuddering, crying out. I want you to take me out, anywhere, everywhere, and let me help you live out what you've always imagined, using whatever devices, in the clothes you'd choose, or lack thereof. Whatever you want, I'd want it too. I would wait for that, any or all of that. Yet, in the meantime, the "real" often seems more unreal than the fantasies, farther away, less attainable, and even more "forbidden". So I struggle, wrestle, every single day, with getting what I can and giving all I have to offer at the moment, versus waiting on a dream. But the one thing that's certain, the one place where my trails of thought always end up converging: You and Me. Somehow, someway. Inevitably. Yes....

Six years had been invested in her, and she had definitely become a model slave. The rebellious college student had certainly learned discipline, and from that point, everything else began to fall into place. "I am very, very proud of you," I praised her as I gave her a crushing hug; her soft groan was laced with a tangible happiness. "I know that it's been a long six years for you, but look at just how far you've come in that time. While you still have occasional moments of rebellion in you, you are definitely a wonderful slave. Life isn't about you anyone, it's about someone else's happiness and well-being. Without a doubt, you've taken quite well now to your role, and you definitely deserve to be rewarded for all your effort over these past six years." The way she beamed when I finally released her from My grasp warmed My heart. Yes, I was quite sadistic, and tended to joke that I have "a heart of coal," but I definitely had a soft spot for her beaming eyes full of love and happiness and a desire to serve. she was already naked, save for the ever-present thin ring of metal surrounding her neck. That was good, for her reward would be easier to achieve while she was naked. "If I remember correctly," I said, gazing into her violet eyes as I gently caressed a bare breast, "you were both at 2:48PM, right?" "Yes, Master, i was," she replied softly, trying not to close her eyes to better focus on My caressing hand. "Good." I dipped My head to kiss her cheek, then took her hand in Mine and guided My dutiful slave to the Master bedroom. That was when she knew that something special was definitely about to happen, for the only time she was ever allowed in the Master bedroom was when I had specifically invited her to cross the threshold. This time, I did not insist that she crawl into the Master bedroom - instead, I stopped, picked her up in My arms, and carried her across the threshold, just as I had done on the day of O/our wedding. Carefully, I deposited her at the center of the bed. she was such a short and thin person that she seemed incredibly tiny at the center of the king-size bed. As I stepped away from the bed, I kept My eyes trained on her, admiring her, once again studying her graceful curves, warmed by the smile upon her lips and in her eyes. The Asian beauty watched Me in return, shameless in her nudity while undressing Me with her eyes. At last, I sat in the recliner in the corner, pulling back on the handle to stretch My legs. Already My arousal was evident as a slight and growing bump at the front of My jeans, and My position in the recliner probably made it even more evident. "Touch yourself," I commanded her, and My slave obeyed, repositioning herself so that I could see directly between her spread legs and watch intently as she complied. As her arousal increased as signaled by the glistening of her sex, My arousal increased as evidenced by the prominent bulge at the front of My jeans. It did not take very long for My slave's scent to fill My nostrils. Each inhalation further filled My heart, further warming Me. her scent carried with it her devotion and her dedication, and it further enhanced her external and internal beauty. Not long afterward, the first whimpers of passion reached My attentive ears. As My slave had learned very early in her training, there are many, many ways one can suffer. While I craved her physical pain and the accompanying struggles and screams and tears, I also found a special joy in her suffering from pleasure, and that was one particular form of suffering which she had endured almost daily for a full year, for her previous orgasm was on her birthday one year earlier. ...and the moment of her annual orgasm was nearly at hand. I had not told her that she would only be permitted on orgasm per year. But after so much time had passed since her last orgasm, I believe she instinctively knew. she most likely hoped that if I only gave her a single present for her birthday, it would be an orgasm. "Look at the clock," I instructed My slave, and she turned her head to the digital clock atop the dresser. "Only at 11:48 may you finally succumb to an orgasm, and you have only that minute to enjoy it. By 11:49, that's at. One orgasm for up to one minute... and no longer. Is that clear, slave?" "Y-yes, Master." her voice was breathy already, and her pleasurable suffering had only just begun. "I cannot believe you, Margie Stone!" Tina Lambert said as the girls followed Laci Roosevelt across the neatly-clipped lawn of Whispering Pines Resort. Margie held up her left hand. She had fashioned the sprig of Tina's pubic hair into a pinkie ring. "Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away back there. It's not everyday that you see Sheba the Amazon Queen cut the fur off your best friend's twat." "Watch that Sheba shit!" Laci called over her shoulder. "This feels weird." Tina said. "Being shaved? Yeah. It's like you never miss it till it's gone." "No, silly. I mean walking around with no clothes on," Tina said. "Oh, yeah -- that, too." Tina stared at her friend's breasts. "What are you gawking at?" "So those are 34C's, huh? They don't look that big." "Well, they're 34C's, I promise, battery pack!" "Battery pack?" "Yeah, that's my new name for you and those double-A's" "Hey! These are 34B's!" "Whatever!" "You need to get some sunscreen," Tina said. "That's true. I can't shade mine with the bill of my cap like you can, Tina- Marina." "Real high SPF Factor," Tina said. "Stop staring at my tits, Tina! I'm self-conscious enough as it is walking around bare-ass naked!" "Yeah, I know what you mean. At least there's nobody around." "Hey!" a male voice called out. The girls saw a tall blond youth skimming a net across the glistening pool. He was slender and muscled and wore nothing but a smile. He waved. "Shit!" Margie hissed. A hand went to her crotch, the other arm across her bare breasts. "Double shit!" Tina said. She clamped her thighs together and waddled. Laci looked back and laughed.. "That's just Tommy. He's the resident pool-boy and lifeguard. You'll be seeing a lot of him." "I don't think there's much more to see," Margie said. Her eyes focused on the bare dick dangling from a tangle of blond curls. "Hey, Tommy! You seen Maribeth?" Laci yelled. "She and Fred were by the pavillion just a minute ago." "Okay. This is Tina and Margie -- new girls at the cafe." "Pleased to meet you!" Margie took her arm from her breasts just long enough to toss a quick wave. Tina bobbed a quick bow, keeping her thighs together. They followed Laci around the corner of the large, open-sided picnic pavillion. "Is he still looking at us?" Tina whispered. Margie glanced over her shoulder. "Yeah" "Jeez, I've never had anybody, you know -- stare at my bare butt!" Margie looked again. "You have now. Great smile, though." "Jeez!" "Maribeth! Maribeth Perkins!" Laci called out. "Over here, Laci!" A woman's head appeared above a hedgerow. "There you are!" "Sorry, Lace. Just finishing up a little business." "Shit! Don't they have indoor plumbing here?" Margie whispered. The head was tanned, smiling, blue-eyed, and bore a pile of platinum hair. "Got some folks you need to meet -- oh, for chrissakes, Maribeth! Couldn't you go inside to do that!" Laci looked down over the bushes. "Sorry. Suddenly got the urge," the blonde head said. "You need to meet the Bobbsey Twins. This here's Tina and Margie. Come on up, girls -- don't be bashful," Laci said. "I'm not ready for this," Tina whispered. The girls approached timidly. "Hi!" Maribeth said cheerily. "Sorry I can't shake hands right now." "That's quite all right," Margie said. They peered over the hedge. "This is Fred. He runs the pro shop," Maribeth said. "Hello," a smiling mouth said from amidst a flame-red beard and mustache. "Jeez!" Tina exclaimed. The tanned, compactly-muscled body of the recreation director was astride the long prostrate form of the pro shop director. "Sorry," Maribeth shrugged. "This is something of a first-day tradition." "Yeah, tradition is important," Tina said staring at the point where the two bodies made a ninety degree intersection at the crotches. "I wanted you to show the newbies around, Maribeth. But --" Laci said. "No problem, Lace. We were just finishing up. Pleased to meet you, girls --Ohh!" Maribeth stiffened and her eyes crossed for an instant. "And Fred's pleased to meet you, too!" she laughed. "I got stuff to do in the office," Laci said. "Take care of my little kum- twats. They're in number twelve." "My pleasure, Lace. Later." The big woman strode away, leaving the girls staring down at the coitus interruptus. "Um, Maribeth, Tina and me will be over by the pavillion," Margie said. "We want to get a good look at that water hydrant." Maribeth waved her off. "Nah, stay right there. W'ere almost done." "Uh, we don't want to --" Maribeth suddenly arched her back, raising a pair of huge tanned breasts. "Mmm. I think you girls have re-inspired Fred!" "Jeez!" "God, look at those cantaloupes!" Margie whispered, her eyes growing wide. Maribeth raised her body, revealing a long white shaft impaled in her hairless crotch. "Look at the length of that thing!" Tina whispered. "Fred's famous for his long-stroke," Maribeth said as she lowered herself onto the cock. The girls watched speechless as the woman repeated the the rhythm, picking up speed with each stroke. "That thing must be up under her belly button," Tina said. Maribeth's breasts jiggled, then juddered as the momentum of fornicating reached them. "I've never watched anybody do this before," Margie said. "Just think, Marge, that's what you and Andy look like --" "Shut up, Tina!" Maribeth humped faster until she looked like an oilfield pumpjack. Her breasts slapped noisily against her chest. "Shit, Tina. I hope those things are attached good. If one of 'em gets loose we're gonna have to chase it all over the camp!" The woman accelerated until the white cock was a blur going in and out of her. She arched again. "Ahhhhhhh!" she screamed. "Ooohhhh!" the man warbled. Maribeth clenched her thick thighs tight around his hips. "Owwww!" he yelled. Maribeth sat with her eyes closed and her breasts heaving for a moment, then disimpaled herself, hopped off and sank her mouth over the glistening rod, giving it a quick rinse. "Got work to do, Freddie, she said and hopped nimbly over the hedge. "Sorry for the delay, girls," she said. "Let me show you around." "I think you already have," Margie said, trying to keep up with the woman.. "Nice to meet you, Fred," Tina said, waving back at the hedge. The girls trailed along behind Maribeth, whose brisk pace created a study of spheres in motion. "I'd say cheerleader," Margie whispered. "Yeah -- a long time ago. She's thirty if she's a day! I hope I look like that when I'm thirty," Tina said. "Honey, you're not going to look like that unless you get some radical fucking surgery. I'd also say tennis." Tina watched the compact tanned mass of moving flesh. "Maybe. I'd say softball for sure -- maybe volleyball." "Yeah, that's it -- softball," Margie observed. "Not volleyball, though. She'd fracture her nose if one of those melons got her in the face." "Those are the tennis courts over there," Maribeth pointed out. "You can use them after seven if nobody's got them booked. Same with the pool." "We saw the pool -- and Tommy," Tina said. "Tommy's a sweet kid," Maribeth laughed. "A real handful sometimes, though." "I'm sure you'd know," Margie said. "The weights, stationary bikes and work-out machines are in the main lodge next to the cafe. Got ping-pong and pool tables there, too," Maribeth said. "I'm sure you've racked a few balls," Margie muttered. "The cabins on your right are for guests. The RV park is right behind them. There's a little lake in the trees over there. It's got a beach and little places for picnicking and sunbathing tucked back in the woods." "Imagine that," Margie said. "Nine-hole golf course on your left," Meribeth continued. "It sucks. Too much rough. The guys are forever losing their balls." Tina looked at Margie. "Too easy," the girl said. "The little white building is the laundry." "What the hell do they need that for?" Margie said. "Hey, Maribeth?" "Yeah, Tina?" "Is Fred, like, your boyfriend?" "Freddie? Oh, hell no! Guy's got the personality of that lawn chair over there. Hell of a shlong on him though -- did you see? Shame he doesn't know what to do with it. Let me give you some advice -- if you decide to give him a go, get on top. Freddie's like a dildo with a pulse." "Gee, thanks for the tip, Maribeth," Margie said. "Here we are! The employee cabins. You two are in number twelve here." The woman pushed the door open. "Tight security, I see," Margie mumbled. "They're rustic, but they're okay," Maribeth said. The women stepped in. The cabin consisted of one pine-walled room, a double bed, dresser, and a table with two chairs. A refrigerator, counter, sink and microwave comprised the kitchen on one wall. "It's, um, uh --" Tina said. "All that and more!" Maribeth smiled. Margie opened a small door. "Look! A closet. There's a bit of irony for you!" she said. "Bathroom's here. Pardon me a sec," Maribeth said and stepped in. The girls heard water running, then Maribeth stepped out daubing dried semen from her thighs with a wad of wet tissue. "Oh, yeah. Hygiene." Margie said. "I'm in number eight. If you girls need anything, just holler." "I'm sure we will, Maribeth. I forgot my copy of the Kama Sutra." "Beg your pardon?" "Nothing, Maribeth," Margie said. "Are you pissed off that I got us into this," Tina whispered as the girls followed Maribeth toward the lodge. "Pissed off? Why would I be pissed off?" Margie said. "I got my wazzu shaved by a big black bull-dike and got to watch Tonya Harding there fuck Paul Bunyan in the bushes -- and it's not even noon yet. Why would I have issues, Tina- Marina?" The pair plowed into Maribeth, who had suddenly stopped cold on the path. "What the f---!" They followed her eyes to the lodge where a huge sleek RV was parked at the entrance. "Shit!" Maribeth said. "The Hacketts are here." _All the characters, events, places, and situations made up in this story are purely fictional- products of the author's sick mind. This is intended an adult story, and should be treated as one. This story includes;_ Drug use, anal intercourse, detailed foreplay, and language. Readers advised. * I was in my one-room condo when I invited April over for some LSD. She agreed and came over. April was a young girl (about 18, give or take), who had blondish-brown hair, she was about 5'4, ok tits, nice, curvy ass. she was medium build with a cute face. After investing the acid, she became slow (speech and thought wise, which I anticipated), a rare reaction indeed, but i had heard she had gotten that before from some other acid. I asked her to lie down with me. She was lying on her stomach, so her nice ass was in view, and right next to my arm, actually, as I was sitting up and we were facing the tv. She wore a loose t shirt and black yoga pants. I started to feel her posterior- getting a feel for it. Caressing her cheeks- much like I was exploring. She looked back, puzzled, and said "W-what... Are... You...." "Getting a feel for you," I said. She thought about it for a second, then turned to face the television again. I again began caressing, but I finally I decided it was time to make my move. I began pulling the tights down her legs. She didn't seem to notice though, as her red panties came into view. She began laughing at something on the tv, making her ass bounce. I began pulling down the panties, exposing her pale, nice, white ass. I slowly spread her cheeks, revealing her small pink asshole, And the end of her pussy. Both holes were unshaven, but the hair was blonde, barely noticeable unless you run your tongue along the holes. I ran my thumb down her cheek into her asshole, which was really warm and moist. I rubbed around the area a bit until she liked back at me. "That's.... hahaha really gross..." "Is it? You don't like it?" "No, I do...... It's just weird..." "Did you know you can absorb acid through your anal canal?" Her eyes widened significantly.she had asked me five minutes ago if it was time to take another doseage. "W....wha-" "I'll give you another tab if you let me stick it up your butthole." Her eyes darted around the room and her mouth was slightly open. "However, I'm taking mine regardless." I said. She thought for a second and in all of a sudden, she got up on her hands and knees on the bed, and used one hand to spread her cheek. I immediately licked my pointer finger and rubbed that little pink asshole. I finally stuck my finger In- which created a strange grunt from her. I slid it in and out- feeling the walls of the canal every time. I finally stuck the tab of acid to the tip of my pointer and slid it into her hole- leaving it in there. She got down to her original position- not pulling her pants up. Spreading her again, I started to lick her ass- tasting the acid on her hole. "Hey, April?" "Uh, yeah?" "Can I fuck you?" "Right now??" "Maybe in the next hour, when it's absorbed?" "In my butt?" "Maybe." "Uh.... I don't know... Your finger was the only thing I've ever had put in my butt..." "You've never been touched there?" "No.... Well, not before today, I guess..." We fell silent and I started to lick her ass again, but this time I slid a finger into her pussy. She started to moan as I slid it in-and-out while my tongue was doing the same to her other hole. I did this periodically until the acid absorbed. She then started laughing uncontrollably, and that's when I climbed on top of her, and pulled my cock out. I spread her ass to see her little pink, moist, tight, little shit-hole. I guided the head of my cock into it- finding it readily hard to penetrate. "Wait- please..." She grunted. For some reason I stopped. "Yeah, what is it?" "Hahahaha what *snicker* are you doing??" "I'm putting my manhood into your butt- baby. Just like we talked about." "Hehe- it hurts!" "It won't for long- I promise!" She began laughing again, and I ( once again) climbed up to the position- spreading her cheeks. I opened my night stand drawer and found some petroleum jelly. I took a smudge and stuck it in the hole- also spread around it, as well was my cock. I put pressure into my first forcing penetration- and the head began to sink into the small, pink hole. She started to make strange dissatisfied grunts- long ones. I was about halfway in her ass when she began to spread her cheeks and lie down all the way, her face cringed in pain. Finally, after adding more jelly, I was pumping the girl's ass. "You like that? Well, do ya?!" "P-please... Ugh- not... That.... Hard!" "Ok, for your sake, I'll slow down." "Thanks.." As my front slapped against her cheeks- her face went from twisted pain- to peace and enjoyment. She no longer made painful grunts at every thrust. I shot my load deep into her anal cavity, and I climbed off, totally stripping her pants off for her comfort. She took a break and began watching tv again. I spread her again to look at her stretched asshole- cum leaking out of it. She left to the bath room not much later (probably for the cum), then returned, still pant-less. After awhile of watching tv, she turned back to look at me; "Lick my ass again!" And, let me tell you friends, I obliged fully. * _Thank you for reading._ April, and the Protagonist are fictional characters (once again). Written by SpeedDesire, September 2013. All content complies with the writer guidelines. **_Ch. 2: A Brush With The Law_** This story follows on directly from Abducted Pt. I. * * * * * As they sat together surrounded by the plush interior of the Jaguar, Dave watched his beautiful wife slowly spread her long, sensual legs. Still naked and spattered with cum, Kelly stretched herself in the seat. David looked at his wife and marveled. He had always harboured fantasies about seeing her taken by another man, or group of men, and now she had made that fantasy come to life. As she reclined in the seat, David watched her hands move slowly over her cum stained body. He fingers were circling her breasts now, tracing patterns in the wet, sticky fluid around the firm globes. He could see that her pink nipples were still pointing at right angles, stiff and swollen as she teased and massaged them. He was aware of a returning erection as his eyes followed her hands down, over her smooth body, and towards her well trimmed vagina. Kelly's pussy was soaked with a mixture of her own fluid and a copious amount of semen. Dave heard her fingers squelch as she opened her nether lips to expose herself in all her glory. He had never seen a sight like it. As her lips parted and her pussy unfolded before his eyes, he could see the cum start to dribble out of her exposed hole. She seemed awash with the creamy stuff as she deliberately dipped two fingers inside of her whilst a third scooped up some of the fluid and started to rub down towards her asshole. David was excited beyond speech now, as, for the second time that day he tore down his zipper and hauled out his erect prick. Using a hand on his thick, rigid shaft, he rubbed himself as he watched his wife finger her pussy and ass. "Mmmm...I really want you baby." murmured Kelly, as her ass began to move backwards and forwards in the seat. "I need you...I need to cum so badly!" David looked about him, outside the powerful car. They were still in a pull-in on the mountain road, and although it was a seldom used route, it was still broad daylight and anyone could see them! Dave weighed up his choices: take his wife now, and risk exposure, possibly affecting his career and business, or deny them both now and drive home to the safety of their own bedroom. Looking at his wife's lust filled face as she masturbated and feeling his own erection in desperate need of release, the choice was made. Quickly stripping off his trousers and underwear, David almost leapt across the centre console and onto the passenger seat next to Kelly. They both giggled at his athleticism before sinking into a long passionate kiss. Manoeuvring his position, David managed to get himself in between his wife's spread legs and place his hard cock at the entrance to her vagina. With no effort at all, he thrust forward, sinking his entire length into her in one smooth motion. She was so wet he could hardly feel her vaginal walls as he started to pump backwards and forwards. He felt Kelly lift and wrap her legs around his waist as he thrust deep into her pussy. Neither of them were in the mood for finesse, but wanted and needed the sexual pleasure found in hard, fast and hot copulation. David could feel the car move as he slammed his cock into her juicy cunt whilst gritting his teeth. Faster and faster he thrust, penetrating her hole more deeply than he had ever gone before, his balls slapping her butt with audible smacks. As they both neared orgasm, David's heart almost stopped as he heard the sharp RAP..RAP..RAP' against the Jaguar's window. Both David and Kelly looked up in frightened shock. What the hell was that? They thought. WHO the hell was that? Slowly, through the steam covered window, the figure outside began to take on a familiar shape. David groaned in realisation. "Oh noooo...It's a cop" "What the fuck's a cop doing all the way out here?" David was slightly shocked by his wife's unusual use of language, but rationalised that he had discovered quite a lot about her today that he wasn't previously aware of! Quickly pulling on his trousers, he threw a car blanket over his wife to try to hide her modesty. "Please step out of the vehicle, sir." The voice sounded fairly young but authoritative. Fastening his trousers, David stepped out of the car and faced the cop. "Sorry officer......." he started but was quickly interrupted. "We had a report of a possible kidnap involving this car" continued the officer, peering in through the window. "Is that your wife sir?" "Yes, she is my wife." "Please ask her to step out also, sir." "But she isn't wearing..." "NOW, please sir" Kelly opened the passenger door and stepped out. As she did, the blanket that she kept wrapped around her, caught on the door and dropped to her waist exposing her full round breasts complete with still erect nipples. "Well, well" the cop smirked. "Looks like you didn't finish the job! She's still hot!" Signaling to his squad car, another uniformed officer approached the three figures. "Maybe we could help the lady get what she wants? Said the first cop as the second joined them. Without waiting for a reply, the officer grabbed the blanket that Kelly was holding and tore it away, exposing her nakedness. Roughly grabbing her around the waist, he put his hand directly onto her pussy. "Hmmm. Seems like she's fucked a few times already today!" he laughed as he pushed two fingers deep inside her "Her cunt's really wet!" David tried to move towards them but was easily restrained by the second cop. The first cop, named Joe as David had heard it, pulled the helpless woman towards the front of the Jaguar. "Right. You two hold her, I'm gonna give this bitch what she wants!" David was forced to join the second cop as they stretched Kelly out face down over the hood of the large car. Joe was standing behind her briskly opening his uniform trousers and withdrawing a large semi-erect cock. Moving closer to her prone body, he slapped his cock against her ass a few times and stroked his fist up and down the length. David watched it stiffen before his eyes, as, with a grunt, the cop gripped her hips and thrust his weapon deep into her vagina. Kelly moaned deep in her throat. Still very wet, David could see only intense pleasure on her face as the large tool was thrust deeply into her body over and over again. "Argh..yes..yes..argh..yes..yes....mmmmm... I think she's enjoying it Paul!" grunted Joe as he ploughed into her. David's mind was in a turmoil. Was this real? Or had his sexy wife set this up as well? He wondered. Whatever, she certainly seemed to be enjoying yet another deep fuck, the fifth or sixth today, he could hardly keep track. As Joe groaned and grunted his way towards his climax, the second cop Paul was expectantly licking his lips. He knew his turn would come soon. With a final loud cry, Joe pulled his huge cock out of Kelly's pussy with a sucking sound. Two more jerks with his hand saw a stream of white cum arc almost gracefully through the air and land on Kelly's upturned ass cheeks. Kelly was shaking and sighing just as loudly. As the cum hit her skin, she cried out as her orgasm ripped through her body. She seemed to start shaking at her knees, the sensations travelling through her upper body to her head and then back down again and finishing with a trembling and quivering of her buttocks. Not wanting to waste any time, Paul and Joe quickly switched places. Paul was already hard as a rock, and David watched him place his cock against Kelly's now dripping pussy. Like his partner he stuffed his erection straight into her cunt. As he thrust back and forward, he was seemed only too aware of the copious amount of fluid that was leaking out of her vagina and dripping over her asshole. David thought that he had changed his mind about raping Kelly, as he pulled his erection all the way out of her. But David was wrong. Throwing a grin towards his partner, Paul started to ease his cock into the woman's tight nether hole. David watched in awe, as he saw his wife's most private opening stretch and widen to accept the monster attempting to invade her depths. Kelly was breathing hard now as with a high pitched cry her anal muscle opened and expanded, and Paul's prick slid smoothly in. Again there was no finesse, no time wasting as the cop set up a good strong rhythm. In and out he thrust, beads of sweat starting to form on his brow in the summer sunshine. "Mmmmm...oh yes baby...you're so tight...so hot...you want me to cum baby...want me to fuck your asshole harder?" David was taken aback as his wife stopped her guttural moaning and yelled out at the invader behind her. "Yes...yes...YES...fuck me..fuck my tight asshole...do me...take me...make me scream you fucker! I want to feel you cum up my tight asshole...DO IT!!!" Her words obviously had the desired effect on the cop, because with a final thrust he closed his eyes and let out a sigh of pleasure. With his tool buried deep inside her butt, David and Joe were unable to see him cum. What they could see was Kelly's reaction. She bucked her naked hips up from the warm metal of the car and thrust herself back onto him, milking the cum right out of his heavy balls. For ten more seconds, Paul emptied himself into her ass, grunting and groaning as the last of his cum seeped from the end of his cock. When he was finally finished, he pulled out, his cock appearing with a popping sound. As Paul tucked his softening cock back into his uniform, Joe spoke. "You better forget all about this," he said to Dave. "Nothing happened OK? Or you'll both find yourself in jail for lewd behaviour." The two cops casually strolled back to their squad car and, as quickly as they arrived, they were gone. Once again Dave and Kelly were alone on the deserted road. As he helped his exhausted wife back to their car, Kelly whispered into his ear. "Mmmm...well...that was an unexpected treat!" "You mean you didn't plan it?" "No.. Not that part...but I loved it anyway...specially the anal bit! You can do me in the ass any time you want now lover!" She exclaimed with a grin. As they started on the long drive home, David wondered where the change in his wife's behaviour was ever going to end!!! To Be Possibly Continued... * * * * * If you enjoyed this story feel free to check out my other offerings on this site. Please also feel free to e-mail me with any suggestions you have for further tales! Photo's from female admirers are always very welcome!! _I hope you enjoy my 750 Word Story Submission - a true story, as always._ \--------------------------------------------------------------- Anne's body teetered on the verge of exhaustion, though she hadn't moved an inch since Nick left. Before stepping away, he placed a gentle kiss on her temple, whispering that he would return shortly. It might have been a sweet gesture had she not been blindfolded, gagged and bound, spread-eagle, on the bed in the middle of an afternoon. As a parting gift, he activated a vibrating butt plug. Her beloved husband was quite a pervert and she cherished every minute of his dastardly attention. Several weeks prior, Nick's cock first penetrated Anne's previously untried hole. A sexual bloom of epic proportion ensued when she discovered anal orgasms were more than just a myth. There was no doubt; anal sex filled a previously undiscovered need in her soul and she immediately became addicted to the raw sensation of a good ass fucking. Since then, Anne welcomed anal delight from Nick's fingers, tongue and his generously sized cock. This particular afternoon, Nick proposed using a plug for the first time and Anne responded with enthusiasm. A quick peek revealed the new toy lacked Nick's girth and length. In fact, she was completely underwhelmed during insertion. However after it was activated, her body immediately seized from the shocking burst of anal pleasure. Not only did the business end vibrate inside her now quivering rectum, the neck of the plug rotated independently around her sensitive anal rim. Constantly rumbling, the silicone toy sparked an anal orgasm seconds later. Anne fully submitted to the overpowering rush, as muscle spasms radiated out from the center of her dark pucker. Gathering strength, it progressed. Soon, her entire pelvis was swept up in the convulsions, rocking her tiny body with vigor. Never wavering in intensity, the vibrator sent her repeatedly over the edge. It quickly became apparent that there was no refractory period after these anal orgasms. With time, she expected diminishing returns. However, one climax simply rolled into the next, making it difficult for her to keep count. The continuous swell of anal pleasure was unlike anything she previously experienced. Had she been a lesser woman, it might have been too much. But for Anne, this was anal nirvana. The newly coveted butt plug would be a cherished addition to their repertoire. And, yet... something was amiss. Feeling lonely, she wondered if Nick really left their bedroom. Perhaps he was standing at the door, watching his hyper sexual wife process endless waves of anal rapture. She could only imagine the raging hard- on produced by the obscene show and hoped it was the case. As if on cue, Anne felt his fingers caress her cheek. "Had enough, Little One?" She could only grunt in reply, reveling in the feel of his weight as he lowered himself onto her body. Not surprisingly, his cock was at full strength and quickly settled between her legs. Without hesitation, Nick plunged his dick into her dripping pussy while the vibrator continued to work its anal magic. The sweet addition of his cock forced additional pressure on Anne's rectum and magnified the strength of her sexual high. Arching her back, she acclimated to the dual penetration as Nick began to hump her with abandon. In a show of consideration, he removed the blindfold while mercilessly pounding her pussy. Locking eyes with her tormentor, Anne conveyed love and a desire for more. Sensing her need, Nick pulled out and sat back on his knees. He quickly removed the plug, leaving her with a momentary feeling of emptiness. Thankfully, he immediately replaced the dildo with his pussy juice covered cock and unleashed a torrent of powerful thrusts in her most private opening. "Fuck, Little One. Your ass was made for my cock." Anne could only nod in agreement. The friction from his pulsating dick, as it pushed and pulled against her highly stimulated anal tissue, satisfied her in a way the vibrating dildo could not. Even better, while approaching his climax, Nick's face perfectly mirrored her unbridled lust. Watching him lose control as he sodomized her was emotionally priceless. Anne came one last time as Nick gripped her thighs, exhaled loudly and blew his load in her rectum. He pulled out and she promptly tightened her anal opening, trying to retain the well-earned prize. After releasing her, they collapsed together, completely spent. It's a sweet lesson, indeed. Vibrating butt plugs were fun. But, anal sex was best served warm, by a hard cock that left behind a sweet reminder of shared sexual satisfaction.

1 "I'm not hard-boiled, I'm just hard," I said, adjusting my trousers. It was another one of those days in the naked city. "A hard man is good to find," Carlotta said, adjusting her cleavage. In her case décolleté was a misnomer. Disrobed was more appropriate. "And I suspect that only a hard man can solve my problem." My name is Lance. I'm a private dick. A gumshoe. A flatfoot. I've been trained to delve, dig, and dive to the heart of a mystery. I was soon to learn that mysterious was a word that fit Carlotta to a T. "It concerns my little man in the boat," Carlotta said. "Your what?" I said. "Did he drown? How small is he, anyway?" "He's rather big, actually," Carlotta said, "but that's not the point." "Is he small, or big?" I said. "You're confusing me." I took a drink of whiskey. I needed it. "It's about my love button," Carlotta said. "What's wrong," I said, "did you lose it?" "No," Carlotta said, "I didn't lose it but the men I've been with have been clueless about its location. That's my problem. I want to know if there's a man alive who can find my pleasurenut," Carlotta said. "This is nuts," I said. I had to take another drink. "You keep changing the subject. First it's a man, then it's a button, now it's a nut. Which is what I'm beginning to think you are." "I don't mean to be obscure," Carlotta said. "I'm talking about my spark plug. You must have heard of what I'm referring to?" "I don't think so, lady," I said. I rolled my eyes and took another drink. A big drink. "Now it's internal combustion engines; I'm getting a headache." "I've got to find a man who can finger my pearl of pleasure," Carlotta said. "There must be a knowledgeable man somewhere." "Pearls," I said, "now it's pearls. My head is splitting." I took another big drink. Then another. I looked around dreamily. And passed out, crashing headfirst onto my desk top. 2 Carlotta was back the next day. "Damn," I said, rubbing the bandage on my forehead where I'd impaled myself on a large splinter the previous day. "Don't you ever give up, lady?" "I'm desperate," Carlotta said. "Perhaps you've heard of a clitty." "Clitty," I said, "That rings a bell." "Nothing's been ringing my bell," Carlotta said sadly. "The technical name is clitoris." I sat up straight. "I know where your clitoris is," I said. "Oh that's wonderful," Carlotta said, looking jubilant. "It's in your throat," I said. "Deep in your throat." "No it isn't," Carlotta said, crestfallen, "you've been watching too many movies." She got up on my desk, opened her legs, pulled aside her black lace panties and showed me. "That's it right there," she said. "Doesn't look like much," I said. "Looks are deceiving," she said. "How long have you had this, er, ah, growth?" I said. "Since I was a little bitty baby," she said. "Have you seen a doctor?" I said. "It's my clitoris, Lance," Carlotta said. "I don't need a doctor. Surely you know that all women have them," "Don't call me Shirley," I said. "Damn you and your movies," Carlotta said. "What have movies got to do with this?" I said. "Goddamn it Lance," she said. "I'm looking for a man who can find this nubbin, this pearl, this little man in a boat." She pointed to the item she was referring to once again. "That's what I'm hiring you for. Capisce?" 3 Now that I finally understood what she wanted I got right to work. The first thing I did was take out a classified ad. "Help us find the missing clitoris." It read. "Desperate beautiful woman. Big reward. Apply at Lance Armstrong Detective Agency, 211 South 4th." When I got to my office on the morning the ad came out I found a long line of men stretching around the block. There must have been hundreds of them. Carlotta was waiting by the door. She was smiling. "There must be someone in among this crowd who knows how to find a pleasurenut," she said. "Here's how we'll do this," I said after we'd climbed the stairs and entered my office. I threw my fedora onto the hat rack. "You sit on the desk, be careful of the splinters, and I'll send in one man at a time. I'll give him a certain amount of time, let him out if he's not successful, and then send in the next one. How long should I give them?" "Five seconds would be enough for a man in the know," Carlotta said. "But let's say two minutes." "Two minutes it is," I said. "Now let's get you up on the desk." Carlotta hopped up on the edge of the desk and looked at me. "Should I take my panties off?" She said. "Why would you do that?" I said. "You've already forgotten where my clitoris is," she said. "In your throat," I said. "Open your mouth. Let me make sure it's still there." "No Lance," Carlotta said, sliding her panties down her legs. She spread herself out on my desk among the coffee stains, splinters, and flyspecks. She pointed. "It's right here." "All right then," I said. "Let's get started." I had the men line up on the stairs. I stood by the door and let them in one by one. Four hours later Carlotta screamed. I rushed in. Carlotta was disheveled and bruised. "This is all I can take." She said. "Not one of them came anywhere close to my spark plug." She heaved a despondent sigh. "Shall we try again tomorrow?" I said. Carlotta gave a forlorn nod. I picked up my megaphone, walked down the stairs, and stood in the dusty street. The crowd was even bigger than before. "Come back tomorrow morning," I yelled. The men grumbled and shuffled away. 4 And so began a tedious routine. Carlotta would hop up on the desk, her bottom covered with bandages, and I would check to make sure her clitoris was still there. It took me a week to get past her throat. The next week, for some reason, I though her right nipple was her pleasurenut. The week after that I was sure it was her left nipple. The following week I focused on her belly button. "At least you're getting closer," Carlotta said. And then, like she had day after day, she pointed to the exact spot. The succeeding week, however, I thought it was in her left kneecap. It hurt to watch her eyes glaze over with despair. Because the poking and prodding had taken such a toll the sessions grew shorter and shorter. It was heartrending to hear her scream'stop'. I knew it meant another day of failure. The subsequent week I went right to the man and his little pink boat. But Carlotta and I were too dazed and confused to realize what had happened. The next day I did it again. We were still too numb for the realization to penetrate. This occurred for three more days. "I want to jump in the river and drown," Carlotta said the next morning as she spread her legs. "There's no man alive who can find my poor little man." In my dim stupor I fingered her clit. A light began to glimmer. "Wait a minute Carlotta," I said. "I can find him. Haven't I found him for the last five days?" Carlotta looked at me. Her eyes grew round. Her breathing quickened. Her chest became flushed. "Yes!" She said. "You have, oh my God." I knelt down and kissed the little man in his boat. Happy, happy, little man. I touched her pleasurenut with my tongue. I sent sparks through her plug. I nudged her nubbin. I banged her button. I polished her pearl. I caressed her clitty. I licked her clitoris. Carlotta was screaming with pleasure. Several men thundered through the door. "Is something wrong? Can we help?" One of them cried. "Go away and never come back. All of you," I yelled. "It's been found. The mystery is solved." "Oh Lance." Carlotta said, breathless. "Drop your trousers. I need your hardness." So I did. She was about to get what she'd needed for so long. But first I closed the file on The Case of the Curious Clitoris before opening Carlotta's legs. And then I entered a brand new day in that dingy office above the streets of the naked city. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession" It had been many years since Tony Torrello had heard these words. Many years since he had spoken them himself. Had he actually been a real priest, he would have heard them often, but Tony was far from a man of the cloth. Only two days before, he had taken his leave from Belfrey prison. A leave that was not exactly condoned by the authorities. He was surprised how easy it had been. Although Belfrey was a minimum security establishment, he had expected at least some traces of security; to be questioned by a guard or something. But leaving was frighteningly simple. Wearing a suit that he had traded a carton of cigarettes for, he had just strolled out of the main gate and to freedom. For two days he had hitched from town to town, trying to put as much distance between himself and the prison gates as possible, until he had arrived at Potterton. The small town had caught his imagination, with its friendly atmosphere, neat little homes and white painted church. For some reason the church had drawn him in. Although of Italian descent and brought up in a religious family, Tony had turned his back on the church at an early age and instead taken to small time corruption and petty crime, his latest confidence trick leading him straight to the doors of Belfrey prison. But now the church intrigued him. At first he had entered the confessional box for fun, really, just to see if it was as he remembered it, but when he heard voices echoing around the building, he had stayed put for fear of being discovered. The last thing that he had expected was to find himself mistaken for a priest and being asked to hear a confession A smile played across his lips as he wondered if he could pass himself off as a man of God. Tony sank back into the darkness of the confessional box. "Please continue, my child," he said, trying to keep the smile from his face. "What is your confession?" Although he could not make out the face of the confessor, the voice was definitely female with the soft lilting tones of an Irish accent. "I have committed adultery again, Father." "Again? You mean that this has happened before?" Said Tony, getting more into character. "Yes Father. You remember I told you about my husband's friend Kevin and also our neighbour Sean?" "Oh...yes...yes...of course. Tell me what happened." There was a brief silence and Tony wondered if the woman was suspicious. "You...you want DETAILS?" she asked incredulously. "Of course! How can you expect your sins to be absolved if I...er, I mean if God, does not fully understand them?" "Well, Father, this time it was with Brian, another of my husband's friends. But this time it was worse. I wanted my husband to watch us while Brian…made love to me! It seems that I must be evil. I just don't seem to be able to get enough…er…sex!" Tony now began to pay more attention. Just the thought of this woman, any woman, naked and fucking, was enough to make his cock stir. It had been many months since he last had a woman. So many in fact that he cared not to remember. He decided to see if he could play along and see if this situation might not afford him some form of sexual opportunity. "I see," he said in his best theological voice, "It seems that you need some help, my child. I do not usually visit a member of my flock at home, but I think in this case you may need my urgent attention. Please write your address down and slip it through to me as you leave. I will see you and your husband later today and we will see if God will forgive you!" Clutching the scrawled address in his hand, Tony peeked out of the confessional box as the unknown woman left. Not bad, he thought as he watched her leave the church. Fairly young, nice figure and a cute little butt! This might be fun! Later that afternoon, Tony found himself sitting in a comfortable lounge and sipping sherry with Ruth Jones and her husband Michael. He had explained his casual dress by saying that he was officially "off duty" and that they might all benefit from getting to know each other better on a less formal basis. The couple seemed to accept this, and the drinks and food had quickly been offered. Tony was having a tough time keeping his eyes off Ruth. She was indeed a good looking woman. He guessed not older than thirty five, with long, flame red hair that fell to below her waist. "You know Ruth," he said as he finished his drink and swallowed the last of the excellent home made cake, "I take a much more liberal approach to, shall we say infidelity, than most other priests. It is my opinion, that as long as you are both happy with your arrangements and that you are not hurting anyone, that God will forgive you." Tony turned to look at Michael who now looked considerably happier. "Michael, are you sure that you are content with this situation? Can you agree with Ruth's behaviour with other men?" "Oh yes, Father. I just love to see her having sex with other men. You see, I knew when I married her that I could never satisfy her lust by myself. Sex is something that she seems to constantly crave!" Tony turned back to Ruth who was looking demurely at her feet. "Oh Father," she said in a whisper. "You must think that I am a complete slut!" "I have not seen much at all yet Ruth. Perhaps, with your husband's permission, you might demonstrate to me the level of your cravings?" Another silence. This time Tony wondered if he had pushed the situation too far. The erection that had developed earlier in the day was still with him, and he was becoming almost desperate to see this woman naked and, hopefully, to fuck her. He need not have worried. With a smile and a glance at her nodding husband, Ruth stood and peeled off her halter top. Tony almost gasped out loud as two large bra-less breasts came into view. Dragging his eyes reluctantly away from the gorgeous sight in front of him, Tony looked over at Ruth's husband. Mike had been rubbing the crotch of his jeans as he watched his wife strip, but as soon as he saw Tony look at him he abruptly stopped. Tony smiled inwardly. After many months in prison, he could not find it in him to condemn masturbation. "That's quite alright Mike," he said. "An erection is perfectly natural. If you feel that you need relief, then you must do whatever is necessary!" Mike seemed more than happy with Tony's permission, and quickly pulled out a small erection and began masturbating slowly. Ruth, meanwhile, had not stopped at her halter top. As Tony turned his attention back to her she had removed her skirt and was just about to peel her lemon coloured panties down her long, shapely legs. Tony simply smiled his encouragement and watched as the lacy garment was removed and discarded on the lounge carpet. "What should I do now, Father?" Ruth said with a sly grin. Tony's breathing was coming in short gasps as he tried to move his painful erection into a more comfortable position. "Why don't you let me see if I can help you with that?" continued Ruth as she pointed towards Tony's bulging crotch. Tony nodded as she sashayed her way towards him. Her breasts swung deliciously, the nipples hard and angry looking as the stood out proudly. He longed to taste them. To suckle on them and feel the hard flesh in his mouth. But Ruth had other ideas first. Kneeling down in front of him she slowly lowered his zipper. Tony gasped again and held his breath as her long, cool fingers reached inside and circled his throbbing member. In a second his cock was free of its confinement and his full eight inches of hard meat twitched in front of her face. Tony closed his eyes in ecstatic anticipation as he felt her warm breath come closer and closer toward his cock. As her lips closed over his cock head he experienced the exquisite sensation of her tongue rolling gently over his glans, stimulating and exciting him to the point of no return. As he felt his cum boiling up from his balls, he groaned and quickly grabbed a warm, pendulous breast. He squeezed the nipple and filled her mouth with his cum. Jet after jet exploded from the tip of his cock and was greedily sucked down into her throat. To Tony's surprise, and Ruth's delight, he stayed hard in her mouth, continuously stimulated by her expert, rolling tongue. He heard another groan coming from the other side of the room a looked over just in time to see Michael's penis spasm and release a thick rope of cum onto his hand. Ruth had now risen and replaced her lips on Tony's dick with her fingers. She kept up a steady massage of his shaft and balls as she flicked her tongue over his lips. Tony could taste himself on her and this sent a further surge of excitement to his still hard shaft. Ruth was moving into position now. It seemed obvious that Tony had no need to move at all as she spread those beautiful legs and straddled his cock that she still held between her fingers. She guided him into her pussy with practised ease and gasped herself as the lips of her shaved pussy unfolded to accommodate his width. Ruth lowered herself all the way down onto him and he closed his eyes again as he felt himself slide in to the hilt. She did all the work. Clasping her hands around his neck, she raised and lowered herself onto his root in a luxurious rhythm that sent shivers of excitement up and down his spine. Her bare feet were beside him and he couldn't resist running his fingers lightly over her pretty, painted toes, tickling her as she fucked him deeply. Michael was now up and by Ruth's side. He whispered words of encouragement into his wife's ear as she rode Tony for all she was worth. Mike could sense that she was approaching orgasm and took her large breasts in his hands and began to pinch the stiff little buds of her nipples. This stimulation was beyond Ruth's control, and letting herself drop heavily on Tony's dick, impaling and filling her completely, her body shook in a massive orgasm. Tony wasn't far behind his lover, and bucking his hips up towards her pussy, he exploded into his second climax in twenty minutes. As Ruth writhed and twisted on top of him, his cock slipped out of her soaked cunt and he continued to spurt his hot, sticky load over her stomach and hairless mound. To Tony's surprise, Michael, seeing the cum staining his wife's skin, bent down and began lapping the white fluid from her body. Every now and then his tongue would dart into her pussy and Ruth would shudder into yet another orgasm. The afternoon culminated in a three way sandwich in the shower. Ruth, still eager for more sex, willingly stood between her husband and new lover as the water cascaded over them. Michael delighted as he fucked her pussy from the front and watched intently as Tony pushed his meat into her ass from behind. Both men came almost simultaneously, splashing their cum over Ruth's body as she writhed between them. As Tony left the house, the first thing he saw was a squad car and the second and third things he saw were the car's blue uniformed occupants. His heart leapt as he turned to make a dash back into her house but was quickly confronted by Ruth and Mike, now fully dressed and flashing badges at him. He groaned as the thought of his prison cell filled his mind. He knew he was going back inside, but at least he had had this experience, he thought. He was sure, that if he focused his mind, he would be able to recall the events of this day for a long time. He certainly hoped so. As the officer's that flanked him in the back of the squad car said, as they drove back towards Belfrey, he would have to rely on his hand for entertainment for quite some time. The End

It seemed strange to be in the house alone. It seemed like there had always been someone else there, but suddenly Addie felt alone. Her daughter, Shannon, had moved into the dorm this past semester. Presumably so the time she had spent commuting could be devoted to study. Her GPA was exceptional and Addie had no idea how much any more study time could improve on that. But she was a junior and twenty-one years old, and her father had died leaving them with all the money they needed to do those things necessary to keep them alive and happy. Brent, Addie's nineteen-year-old son, worked in Daytona and came home most weekends. He called every couple of days and when he was at home they spent a lot of time together. She wished he could find as good a job closer so he could still live at home. Before Hal died, the house never seemed quite this empty. Addie guessed it's because she always expected him to be home soon. And the kids were always around. If it weren't for Janet next door, she wouldn't have a soul to talk to all day. Then there's the other problem, that big empty bed all night. At first, she just sat and cried. Sometimes it lasted for hours at a time. But the grief councilor from the church, assured her that it was normal to bawl like that. And after weeks and months, the tears stopped coming. But it's still hard. Addie and Hal had been married for seventeen years, had the two wonderful kids and then suddenly, one heart attack and Hal is gone forever. 'It's just not fair,' she thought. They had married young, that happens in small towns in the south, and the children came early. Addie is thirty-eight now, and Janet says she is still attractive. But could she ever start over again? She hungered for the attention Hal had given her. He had been caring and loving, and when they made love, it was wonderful. Addie would lie awake at night sometimes and remember how it felt when his long thick cock would penetrate to the very depths of her soul. She could still feel his hands on her tits and his tongue on her clit. She recalled the sensation of his hot seed filling her pussy or her throat when he emptied himself inside of her. She gets wet every time she thinks about him. 'My God,' Addie thought,'my pussy is absolutely flowing right now.' Addie squeezed her thighs together in an effort to make the feelings go away. But she knew that they would only come back if she didn't make herself cum. The ache would come back regardless, but cumming would help for now. She went into the family room, in the back of the house and sat on the sofa. She pulled the hem of her soft sundress up to her hips as she sat. Her fingers slipped between her legs and moved over the smooth shiny satin of her panties. Looking down, she could see the dark spot her wetness had caused. She drew the thin strip of satin to one side and pushed a finger deep into her cleft, rubbing her thumb over her extended clit. A shock went through her body at first contact, sending her soaring into a hard orgasm. 'Geez,' she thought, 'it only takes a few seconds to get off. Hal would keep her going forever.' Addie opened her eyes, after several moments, and saw Janet standing outside the sliding glass door. Janet was staring at Addie's hands, which were still firmly in place between her outspread thighs. Janet slowly slid the heavy door open far enough to squeeze through, and entered the room. She closed the door behind her and crossed the short distance from the door and the sofa. Addie's eyes were locked on Janet's. Neither of them even blinked. Janet sank to her knees in front of Addie, pushing her knees even farther apart. Taking Addie's hands in hers, Janet pulled them away from Addie's drenched opening. The blue satin slid back across Addie's sandy brown fur. Janet placed Addie's hands on the sofa beside her and reached for the thin strips holding the blue thong on Addie's hips. Slowly, Janet drew the damp satin down Addie's legs. Their eyes remained connected. Janet let her gaze drop to Addie's center. Her hands moved ahead and her fingers gently parted the soft hair covering the feathery folds, which lay beneath. As if in a trance, Addie watched as Janet's face closed the short distance into the V between her legs. She watched as Janet parted her lips and extended her pink tongue, sweeping slowly up from below and dragging it across her inflamed love button. Once, twice, three times, Janet thrust her tongue along Addie's smoldering lips, sweeping over her raging clit. Then Addie closed her eyes and let the sensations fill her, mind, body and soul. The orgasm overtook her and she screamed. It had been three long years since anyone had touched her. And it had been another woman that had taken her to the heights again. 'Have I become that desperate?' she thought to herself. But the sensations were undeniable. "You all right, Addie?" Janet asked, softly. "I don't know," Addie gasped. "Why did you do that to me?" "I'm not quite sure," Janet answered. "I was coming over and when I looked through the door and saw you doing yourself, I couldn't help myself. You looked like you needed someone to help you." "Jesus, Janet," Addie whispered, "have we become lesbians now?" "Oh, I don't think we have to worry about that," Janet soothed. "Is this your first experience with another woman?" "Yes," Addie confided. "And it was wonderful. Have you done it before?" "I have, lots of times," Janet answered. "But there's nothing that can beat a hard cock filling you up." Addie wept. Janet held her close for a long time, until the sobbing stopped. "You really miss him, don't you?" Janet asked. "Some days much more than others," Addie replied, collecting herself and standing up. "Thanks for what you just did. It was wonderful. But I don't think I'm ready for a long term commitment to a relationship with a female, right now." Addie bent and kissed Janet on the lips, softly and tenderly. "But I enjoyed that and I want to do it again," Addie said sweetly. Janet kissed her back. Addie swirled away and went to the kitchen to fix them each a glass of tea. Janet was ten years younger than Addie. She had fluffy blond hair and an hourglass figure. Her soft puffy breasts were constantly on display regardless of what she wore. Addie estimated that she was at least a 40D, but on her 5'-10" body, it looked good. Janet was proportioned nicely and Addie envied the younger woman's splendid looks. Addie was 5'-7" tall with flowing fawn colored hair, firm 36C boobs and the classic good looks of a southern beach bunny. She regarded herself in the mirror as getting a little thick, here and there, but she was still a handsome woman. Brent told his mother she was a stunner whenever she started up with the 'I'm getting old and fat' routine.' He had encouraged her to find herself a man and get out of the house. But Addie wasn't ready for that yet. Shannon was constantly on her case to find a job and go meet some people. But she didn't want to do that either. Hal had left them financially secure and any job would only be for the purpose of getting out and she felt that jobs should be left to those people that needed them. Besides, she didn't have any skills other than being a mother and housewife. Addie returned to the family room with two glasses of tea and sat across from Janet. "When's Brent coming home?" Janet asked. "I never know when to expect him," Addie answered. "He comes home most weekends but lately, it's been less frequently. I think he's seeing someone I Daytona." "He is such a hunk," Janet said, between sips of tea. "Easy, Girl," Addie said. "He's only nineteen years old." "That's legal in every state in the country," Janet said. "Besides, young meat is harder and lasts longer than the older stuff." "You are such a slut, Janet," Addie gasped. "Tell me that if you had a chance to crawl between the sheets with a nineteen year old stud, like Brent, that you'd pass it up," Janet wailed. "I've only been with two men in my life," Addie admitted. "Hal, and who else?" Janet asked, her interest piqued by Addie's openness. "It was a long time ago," Addie whispered, her eyes seeking the floor. "And I'll never forget how dirty I felt." It got very quiet in the room. Janet stared at Addie and waited. "So?" she searched. "Who?" "My mother's second husband," Addie said, finally. "It was awful. A couple of years after Hal and I were married, I went to help ma get a bath when she had a broken leg. Shannon was two, and Brent was a little over six months old. I had both of them with me that afternoon. I had just put them down for a nap. I was helping ma get her bath and I was soaking wet. I guess that Dale got turned on because I didn't wear a bra in those days and my nipples were showing through my wet blouse. Any way, he made a snide comment and I stepped up to sneer in his face and he grabbed me and started to kiss me. I didn't know any better and before you know it, I'm on the floor on all fours with his pecker in me from behind. I just kind of went wild because he was so big, but after I got home, I got sick to my stomach for fucking my mother's husband and cheating on mine. God, I felt like hell for years." "Did you ever tell anybody?" Janet asked. "You're the first," Addie explained. "And I'm still ashamed of it to this day." "Why?" Janet asked. "Because I enjoyed it when he fucked me," Addie snapped. "And I wanted him to do it again, but he never did. Thank God!" "Well that's old news, Sweetie," Janet said. "You've got to get back in circulation. You're too hot to keep yourself off the market. Besides, you might find some hung young stud, like Brent, to tickle your fancy." "That's just what I need," Addie said. Janet departed and Addie returned to her casual housekeeping. She didn't have to work hard to keep the big house clean, but she did a little each day and stayed caught up. Brent would be coming home this weekend, she presumed, and she decided to give his room a little extra-added attention. She entered Brent's room, standing in the doorway and surveying the whole scene. Brent was a neat kid. He prided himself on his appearance and his tidiness. This trait was reflected in the way his room always looked. The books on the shelves were all arranged neatly in rows and standing straight up. His shirts and trousers all faced the same direction on the hangers in his closet and his things in his drawers were folded and stacked uniformly. Addie knew she wouldn't find a lot to do in his room, but she busied herself with pulling his laundry from the hamper in the bathroom and stripping the sheets from his bed. As she pulled the top sheet away from the bed, she noticed several crusty stains on the bottom sheet. She stepped closer to the bed and let her fingers slide over the dried remains of some wet dream on his sheet. Addie sat on the bed and let her hand rest with her fingers on the tell tale spots on the sheet. 'How could he have grown up so fast?' she asked herself, trying to imagine what her son could have been dreaming about when he discharged such an amount of semen on his sheet. Here mind reeling, she continued to strip the bed. She lifted first one pillow to pull the case off and then the other. As she lifted the second, a pair of red lace panties, which she recognized as hers, fell out of the pillowcase when she pulled it off the pillow. She recalled that she had worn them the last time he had been home. It was her recollection that she had dropped them into the hamper in her room the night she took them off. 'What on earth would they be doing in Brent's pillowcase?' she wondered. Gathering the sheets, Addie went to the laundry room and started the washer. She held her panties in her hand, carefully checking to see if they could have gotten mixed up in the laundry. She could see that she had not laundered the panties, for they still had soil in the gusset. Her heart beat faster as she envisioned her son, with her panties in his hand, relieving himself in his bed. Her thoughts raced in her head as she made her way back to Brent's room. She stood just inside the door and looked around the room again. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Addie hated herself for inspecting his room, but she just had to know if he had anything else of hers there. She looked under the bed but found nothing. She scanned the rows of books and the neat piles of folders and items on his computer table. Nothing indicated that he had pilfered any more of her underwear. With trembling hands, she pulled open the top drawer of his dresser and looked down at the orderly piles of his clothing. The third drawer down contained his socks and belts. She was about to push the drawer closed when she saw a wisp of nylon peeking out from under the carefully rolled socks. Addie moved the socks aside and revealed a pair of discarded panty hose. A long runner appeared in one leg so she assumed that she had thrown them away and Brent must have retrieved them from the trash basket in her room. Again, the white gusset patch, at the juncture of the leggings, was soiled from her discharges. Addie carefully returned the panty hose to the drawer and replaced Brent's socks to their original position. She placed the clean sheets on his bed, returning her red lace thong to its hiding place inside the pillowcase. Returning to the family room, Addie lifted a bottle of Cognac from the shelf behind the small bar. She poured a small amount into a thick-bottomed rocks glass and walked to the kitchen for some ice cubes. She placed the glass on the breakfast bar and pulled a stool out upon which to sit. Contemplating the amber liquid in the squat glass, Addie reflected on the events of the past hour and a half. She lifted the glass to her lips with both hands and sipped. Replacing the glass on the counter, she closed her eyes and let the strong liquor slide down her dry throat. She could feel it burn as it traveled from her lips to the bottom of her churning stomach. She'd not taken a drink since Hal died. Addie tried to rationalize Brent's thoughts. Had he taken her things for some special reason or was he just turned on by her lingerie? Maybe he had turned into some kind of a panty freak. Addie sipped from her glass and dismissed her thoughts. Maybe he was just drawn to her. The Cognac was not the only thing causing her to feel warm inside. Brent would be home tomorrow night. Maybe she could find answers to her questions then. \-------- Sleep was elusive for Addie that night. She tossed and turned, her thoughts constantly returning to her son. Why, all of a sudden, had she become so obsessed with Brent? Brent was tall, 6'-2" and muscular. He weighed in at 205 lbs. His hair was exactly the same color and texture as Addie's. His azure eyes sparkled and his teeth were straight and white. Addie was positive that he could have any girl that looked his way. But he never seemed to have a girlfriend, or dated much. Instead, he preferred to spend his weekends with her. She wasn't complaining, mind you, it just seemed strange. She finally slept, not waking until after eleven in the morning. She lingered in the shower, luxuriating with the hot water streaming against her skin. She dried, dusted her body and brushed her long hair until it shone. She carefully selected a powder blue lacy bra that lifted and pushed her tender breasts together, creating more cleavage than she really had. The panties matched the bra perfectly. Her soft pubic thatch could clearly be seen through the thin lacy triangle covering her mound. She decided against a garter belt, choosing instead a pair of black self- supporting thigh-high nylons with wide lace bands at the top and a razor thin seam up the back. Addie pushed her feet into a pair of navy satin pumps and stood to scrutinize her reflection in the mirror on the back of the bedroom door. Twice she asked her reflection what she thought she was doing and each time the woman in the mirror simply smiled back at her. A gossamer white silk blouse with long full sleeves and a loosely fitting front, which left nothing to the imagination and a short navy skirt that fit like a second skin completed her ensemble. Simple two-inch silver loops dangled from her ears and no other jewelry. Again she surveyed herself in the mirror. The woman smiled back devilishly. She placed candles around the bedroom. Their dinner would be simple. Grilled porterhouse and baked potato, with a light salad and red wine would do nicely. Candles at the table, of course, for atmosphere, and soft music on the stereo should get him in the mood. For what she was not exactly sure, she just wanted the mood to be romantic. She wore a frilly blue apron while she readied her dinner and she also helped herself to another Cognac to stop the butterflies from fluttering in her tummy. She heard the deep throb of the engine of his Firebird when he pulled into the garage. Pulling the apron from around her waist, Addie dimmed the lights in the dining room and lit four candles on the table. She stood across from the door as he entered the house. Addie could feel the dampness between her legs as her handsome son stepped through the door. His hair was tousled and his tie had been loosened. He held his jacket in one hand and a huge bundle of roses in the other. Their eyes met. Brent pursed his lips as he examined his mother from across the room. A soft whistle filled the room as he made her aware of his approval. She took two steps closer to him, and then he took two. Mere inches separated them as she took the roses from his hand. Once freed, his arm encircled her waist and he drew her close. Her breasts flattened against his solid body. She lifted her face to his and he covered her lips with his. They had never had a romantic encounter in the past. Addie had no idea what she was doing. Brent had a hunger for her that had been burning inside for many months. The kiss lasted for just a few seconds. But it was long enough for the flames to ignite in Brent. Addie felt weak in the knees. Until Janet had alluded to Brent's desirability yesterday, Addie's lust for her son had been dormant. Suddenly she craved his attentions. Breaking the kiss, Addie said, "Pour us some wine, Sweet Heart. And I'll start the steaks." They ate, and drank the wine. Brent savored the vision of his lovely mother. "What brought this on?" Brent asked, finishing his wine. "I just missed you," Addie said, softly. "Mother, you're not dressed for a missing you party," he said. "I just wanted to look nice for you," Addie said, blushing. "Mother, you couldn't leave the house dressed like that," Brent observed. "You don't like it?" she asked. "I think you are the most ravishing woman I have ever set eyes upon," Brent said. Addie stood up and moved around the table to stand next to Brent's chair. He turned and placed a hand on each of her hips. Addie bent and placed a hand on each of his cheeks. Their lips met, passionately, with mouths open and tongues flaring. He held her steady. She straddled one leg and sat on one of his knees facing him. Her knee rested gently against his stiff manhood. With one hand, he flipped the buttons on her blouse open and pulled the thin white fabric aside to reveal her heaving breasts. His hand cupped her, gently kneading her. Then he paid homage to the other. Addie's nipples screamed to be free of their confinement and free to feel her son's warm hand. "Be gentle with me, Baby," Addie whispered as she stood and pulled him to his feet. "It's been a long time since I made love to your father." "I've waited for a long time," Brent whispered, guiding his mother down the hall to her room. Brent pulled his shirt off as she lit some candles. He helped her out of her blouse and skirt. Her hands tugged his button open and slid the zipper down. His slacks drifted to the floor. She descended with them, pulling his briefs down over his hips. Brent's hard cock popped out of his shorts and swung up slapping Addie gently under her chin. Her eyes widened in amazement at the size of her son's cock. Fully erect, it stood at slightly less that a forty-five degree angle upward, straight and stiff. He was over nine inches long and as thick as Addie's wrist. She took him in both hands at once, slowly sliding her fingers along each side of his thick veined colossus. A large pearly drop appeared from the tiny slit on the smooth helmet. Her pink tongue flicked out and swept it away. She wrapped her fingers around him and stroked him from bottom to top, drawing another thick pearl from within. Again she licked it away with her darting tongue. Brent's cock felt like a marble pillar in her hands. Addie twisted her head to one side and slid her tongue along the length of his staff. She licked in the hair on his belly and balls, as if cleansing him. A thick steady stream of milky pre-cum oozed from him and coated her face and fingers. When she took him into her mouth, her face shone with his lubricant. She spread her lips wide and engulfed his head. She took as much as she could and backed off, only to repeat the motion again and again. Her hands and tongue were in constant motion on him, delivering as much pleasure as could be imagined in her mind. Hal had told her how wonderful her mouth was again and again. Now she would give her son the same pleasure she had given his father. She pulled her mouth out to the very head so that only the tiny slit remained between her pursed lips. Sucking gently, she could feel and taste his fluids flowing into her hot mouth. "I want to taste you, Mother," Brent begged. "I want to taste your sweet cunt." Addie eased back away from Brent's huge dick and smiled up at her son. Standing, she turned so he could unfasten her filmy bra. His hands encircled her and cupped her from behind. Her tits were firm and full. His thick cock lay flat up in the middle of her back. She could feel him oozing on her skin. Leaning forward, she hooked her fingers in the top of her panties and slipped them down to the floor. Stepping out of them, she picked them up and held them hooked over one finger. Brent took them from her and held them to his face, inhaling her scent deep into his brain. "I love the smell of your panties, Ma," Brent whispered. "I know, Baby, I know," she whispered back. Addie reclined on the bed, spreading her legs and exposing her furry sex to her son. Brent crawled into her center and sent his tongue lashing through her lips, searching for her love trigger. He found it within seconds, sending Addie reeling over the top. Twice more she toppled over the edge from his hot tongue before she begged him to enter her. "I want your cock in me, Brent," she hissed. "Please fuck me, Baby." Brent positioned himself at the entrance to her sizzling love channel and let his weight slowly push his cock into her wet canal. He felt her catch her breath as he entered, stretching her as she had never been stretched before. It had also been over three years since the last time she had a man in her cunt. Carefully, he eased forward allowing her to adjust to his size. Addie's eyes were closed. There was a fire burning between her legs as her son invaded her tight sleeve with his enormous cock. The raging fire eased with each passing minute and each inch he advanced. Then he was resting flat on her. He had pushed fully into her willing womanhood. Then he eased out a couple of inches and reentered. Each time, Addie felt him move things around inside of her. She could feel him pushing against her cervix, stretching her womb as never before. Then the pleasure set in. Each time he retreated and returned, he slid his rippled cock over her tender clit. Each contact sent thrills coursing through her body. Faster and faster until he beat a rapid tattoo against her, then suddenly, he withdrew to the very tip and with a mighty heave and a horrendous bellow, sent his entire length back into her blasting his creamy offering far into her womb. Then again he crashed into her, and again, pouring her full to overflowing with the thick white milk of love. Brent held himself above his mother with his elbows locked straight, and his still steel hard cock pinioned into her center. She convulsed against him over and over and over until she lay still under him, her legs wrapped around his back with her heels locked together. He remained fully embedded deep in her trembling womb, the very womb in which he had been conceived nearly twenty years earlier. Then they rested. Then they made love again, and again...and again... She had volunteered to be hypnotized. It was another one of her fantasies. So he had pulled some books from the library and sat her down at home. He set the mood by lighting the room with candles and putting on some soft music. He gave her a drink and a relaxing back massage with oil. Once she seemed relaxed, he asked her to sit back and watch a cut glass crystal he'd picked out at the store. He already knew she was a true submissive, the kind of girl that got off on the idea of totally giving control to her man, her master. The fact that she wanted to be hypnotized on top of that meant there were some very interesting possibilities ahead. He followed a standard induction sequence, asked her to relax and watch how the light moved in the crystal, told her that as she watched the crystal, she felt more and more relaxed, lighter and lighter, until all that was left was his voice and a sense of peace. He knew she was ready when she slumped over. He asked her who he was. She was already primed and answered "Master." He praised her for her answer and told her that it would make her even more relaxed and happy each time she said it. He asked her to say it again and she said "master" with a faint smile. He asked her what that meant, "that my body is yours to do with as you please." He already knew this, she had already told him this, but he never knew quite where her boundaries were and he was too much of a gentleman to push. She had always refused a safe word, instead relying on him to treat her with tenderness. He could fix that now. He told her from now on that if he ever asked her to do something in bed she didn't like, she should say "rainbow". That he knew it might be hard for her to contradict him so it would be a secret she kept from herself, that she wouldn't even know she said it. Next he asked if she remembered the time she had woken him up with a blow job. She said "yes." He asked if she remembered how much he had liked it. "Yes." He asked if she was his slave and she answered "yes." Taking a breath, he asked her if she liked giving blow jobs. She said "yes." "As a slave, from now on when you greet me in your home, you should always get down on your knees and suck on my cock." "Yes." "Yes, what?" "Yes, master." "From now on, my cum tastes like your favorite dessert." "Yes, master." He told her that she was a good girl and that she felt even better now, lighter and lighter. "You offered to have anal sex with me." "Yes master". "And you told me that you knew it would feel wonderful with me". "Yes, master. " "From now on, you will fantasize about me having anal sex with you, you know it will make you a better slave, and when we do have anal sex it will be the best sex you have ever had." "Yes, master." "Good girl." Next, he asked if she had any needs he had not fulfilled, any fantasies that she had not already told him. He listened and carefully wrote them down for the next session. "You like feeling this way don't you?" "Yes, master." "Do you want to be able to feel this way again?" "Yes master." "Good, from now on, all I have to do is touch you on your lower back and say, Pixie, and you will in this beautiful hypnotized state again." "Thank you master." There would probably have to be a lot more sessions to reinforce his suggestions...and any more he thought of. "Now, on the count of three, I want you to wake up. You will remember that you told me your fantasies, and you will remember the other things I told you secretly, but not in your conscious mind. You will feel wonderful and relaxed. You will also want to kiss me. One, two, three." She woke up, smiled, and looked a little embarrassed as she remembered the fantasies that she had told him. He leaned forward and she did too, thinking he wanted to kiss her, but he quickly put his hand on her lower back and said "Pixie". She slumped forward and he had to catch her. She was a very good subject. "Are you awake?," he asked her. "Yessss, Master." "Good girl, how do you feel?" "I feel good master." "You can't remember your name can you?" "No." He felt clever to have planted that suggestion in the question. "Your real name is 'Slut' but you can only say it in private with me." "You call yourself 'Jane' otherwise." "Thank you master, I forgot". "I know." "Your pubic hair is getting itchy." She was squirming in the chair. "And as I keep talking it is getting itchier and itchier". "What are you going to do?" She put her hands in her panties. "The only way you can really scratch yourself is if you take off your skirt and panties right now". She started fumbling with her clothing and it took her a while to get them off in her relaxed state. "You feel better now, but you know you will itch again." "When you wake up, you won't notice the itching, but as the next few days go on, you're going to realize that it itches more and more." "Do you know why?" "No...." "Because your pubic hair is scratchy and you need to get rid of all of it. When you do, you will feel very horny and will have to call me, okay?" "Okay." "You are my slave." "Yes, I am your slave" "Good girl, you feel really good right now." "If you are my slave, than I own your body?" "Yes." "In a week, you won't be wearing any panties." "Yes, master." "I am going to bring my stepbrother over and you will find him extremely sexy." "Yes master." "You will come to me very embarrassed and ask if you can fuck him because you are a slut." "Yes." "What is your name?" "Slut." "Good girl." "I will agree but only if you fuck both of us." "Thank you master." "But after that, you will owe me and we will have to find another girl for you and I to fuck together." "Yes master" "You will help me pick her out, but the choice will be mine. Once we have chosen a girl, you will seduce her but you will call me master in front of her." "Yes master." "Tomorrow, you will tell me that you want a necklace that shows you are my property." "Yes, master." "We will pick it out together and you will always wear it." "Yes master." "Good girl." "When you wake up, you will not remember any of this in your conscious mind but your subconscious will." "Yes." "If I own your body, I can do with it as I please, yes?" "Yes master." "Good girl." "From now, I will not wear condoms and it will be your responsibility to get birth control pills. If you get pregnant, I will take care of you and you will be happy to know you have been a good slave. If I tell you that you have taken your pills for the week you will believe me." "Yes master." "Good girl." "If we ever break up, and you move far, far away, and forget how much fun we had together, then all I will have to say is 'duct tape' and you will want me again" "Yes master." Well, he thought to himself, this should be fun and I think I've remembered everything I needed to for the future. "On the count of three, you will wake up, one, two, three..."

At eighty, I have reached an age where many of my peers no longer can or wish to remember their past. Instead, they focus on their day-by-day existence and, thereby, on the miseries of the unavoidable afflictions of old age. Being no longer young, fit, desired, etc., etc., etc., their continuing existence becomes defined by what has been lost. I, in contrast, have chosen not to forget. I will not surrender the precious and intriguing memories of my past, of what I became, was and, therefore, still am. I will not allow my mind to mirror my aging body's debilitation and obsess about things I cannot change. I believe that one can make the remaining years of one's life into a period of renewal and liberation. I have led, to all appearances, an interestingly disordered but overall successful and respectable life. It leaves me with much to remember. In doing so, there is much to enjoy and little to regret. However, I have left much that happened throughout my life and that I have done, if not denied, unexamined. This applied, not surprisingly, foremost to my sexual relations with partners who mattered to me then and still do so now. It's time now to bring this and that into the open. It will also be invigorating to revisit these well past sexual experiences. I expect to find out that the solitude of age can sharpen one's appreciation of remembered experiences. It may well whet my emotions once again to a keener sense! More than a year ago, with an incomplete sentence, my progress in giving an honest account of my life came to a halt. I was writing about my polio-attack when I was seven, about what occurred, how and to what extent it crippled me and how I had to adjust. Thinking about how much Polio may have been a critical formative influence on my character, how I related to others and they to me throughout my life as an adult, brought my writing to a sudden stop. It was more than a short-time writer's block. I suddenly realised how rarely and how superficially I had thought about this. Had I blocked it out? I found the task of describing it in a few paragraphs or even pages threateningly uncomfortable. Instead of thinking it out and progressing with a conventional retelling of my life, I stopped in my track. As a short term, an entertaining diversion, I started to busy myself writing a light-hearted, sexual memoir. It was not only a sense of playful mischief that attracted me to make sex the leading theme of the anecdotal recollections. As an avid reader, I had long-held, critical misgivings about the extent and nature of censorship that were either externally prescribed or voluntarily adopted in'respectable' literature. Especially in biographies and memoirs, a prissy restraint in describing the actors' sexuality and their sexual relations both falsify the account and leaves it incomplete. A recent reading of the acclaimed biography of the Roosevelts - Hazel Rowley's, Franklin and Eleanore: An Extraordinary Marriage - had sharpened my disaffection anew. It is a biography that tip-toes around the centrality of sex for both of its characters. I decided, therefore, to be deliberately 'naughty'. I planned to ignore all priggish constraints in using language and describing in detail and length the physicality of sex in action. By itself, this would have been neither original nor rare; it is a characteristic of pornographic/erotic literature. However, as I had chosen Complexities as the working-title, I knew from the beginning that my memoir would turn into more than just a sequence of risqué, pornographic anecdotes. My partners and I were always more than just sexual actors. Our sexuality was, in our actions, never all. Our sex was sometimes in concordance but as often in contradiction of our everyday personality and circumstances. In contrast to most literary erotica, I would not present the sexual happenings as extraneous and unrelated to my partners' and my concurrent and past life. Neither did I want to exclude the inherent or arising moral and emotional complexities. I planned to be truthful. It became a continuous challenge to read something that I had written on the screen, and realising that it was either less or often more than the truth. By believing that such a memoir offered a light-hearted diversion from thinking about and exposing myself, I was hoisted by my own petard. As the'story' progressed, it revealed more and more about my character, its weaknesses and strength in the context of myself as a sexual actor. Among other things, it made me realise that I never was, in my relationship with women, a sexually dominant 'alpha' male. I had mixed feelings about that. Was it good or bad? Was the reason for this possible lack in manliness that I was always conscious of my polio-induced disabilities? In retrospect, writing about my so happily remembered rich and rewarding sexual experiences made me realise anew that I was fortunate. I became aware of the oneness between my sexual and my social being and that I had suffered no discrimination, as either one or the other. And it demonstrably was not that others - out of a prescribed tolerance - 'overlooked' my, to me, so apparent short-comings and disabilities. Lovers, friends, acquaintances, and strangers just did not see me the way I saw myself. It was a paradox that in their eyes, I must have seemed whole and attractive. At the same time, I saw myself, as in the Hall of Mirrors in Luna Park, often as maimed and irredeemably flawed. My sexual experiences were, therefore, for me much more than pleasant, exciting diversions. In the reflecting mirror of my lovers' eyes, I saw myself as desired and attractive. Equally important, in the physicality of love- making, I found myself unhindered whole. Call it self-love, but these sexual encounters were, all of them, love-affairs that had meaning far beyond the brief, physical satisfaction. They enriched me by what my partners saw in me and by the purity of their sexual desire as it matched mine. It was unsullied by material interests - I was never rich - or the pity of a charitable frame of mind. In looking for a more suggestive title than Complexities for the completed memoirs, I settled on The Sirens' Song. It alludes to another voyager. Unlike me, Odysseus was a hero-warrior, an alpha male. On his long journey home after the slaughter and laying waste to Troy over the ownership of a woman, he sailed past the Sirens' island inviting shore. Unlike his warrior-companions, who had blocked their ears with wax, Odysseus had himself tied to the mast to listen to the Sirens' seductive song. Tied down, he could not be drawn into their web of a freely chosen, life-affirming, sexual fulfilment. For his maleness, it would have been an unacceptable surrender. He left the story of what the Sirens song meant for this traveller to tell. He had listened and learned much by stepping ashore on the sirens' isle. The self-appointed moral guardians will judge the following chapters as evidence of an abhorrent addiction. I can only admit that I have always been sexually attracted to women and that it has enjoyably enriched my life. How much this has been and is still the case, I am discovering anew in writing about it. Having completed this memoir, I am uncertain whether I would want it read by others, much less published. At the moment, I believe that it will remain unread in my computer's memory to be - with it - discarded by my heirs. Even if one writes exclusively for oneself, one does so for an imagined reader. If she or he is to understand what one needs to say, the writing must be clear: Most importantly, it must be honest, must not distort, distract- from, or prettify what needs to be said. As I write about sex and sexual experiences, I use an explicit language that shocks prissy readers. For this, I offer no apology. I genuinely believe the problem lays with them, not me. For my imagined ideal reader and me, the libido is not a psychosis that justifies the suppression of sexuality and its language. And, as this memoir illustrates, I still don't find, at eighty years of age, sex too unimportant and uninteresting to write about. The censure of sexually repressed or supposedly uninterested people, will not influence me in what and how I write. In the first dozen chapters, I learned that I was not the unassailed master over what I had planned. It should not have surprised me that my stories, in getting written, became an alternative reality that asserted their own life and momentum. Firstly, they resisted being cut short and spare in what I was telling. This, I must admit, I welcomed. Writing about my well-past sexual experience made me greedy to relive its exhilarating joy. Secondly and, perhaps, more mystifying was that even while writing explicitly about pure sex, an aura of hidden meanings began to hover over the carnally remembered. It arose, even when the sexual relation I described was opportunistic and brief. There was always an undercurrent of unvoiced needs and growing affection, combined with reservations, doubts, and the reality of hurting. In remembering and writing it down, it felt as strong - and as resistant to capture its meaning in words - as it must have been then. The unsaid was thereby always part of the story.

_The normal disclaimers apply, anyone having sex is 18 or older._ This is a three part story which begins as a first time and evolves into a romance. * Apple Cove CH1 I am the fourth of six children, the first was a boy, known to us others as *the Golden One* since he seems to do no wrong in our parent's eyes, followed by two girls and then me. A four year interval ended when mother had another boy and then our baby sister. The oldest was the golden boy and the youngest was their *baby*, which left the rest of us in limbo. We were loved and shown love as much as parents of six can divide themselves, I held my own, but was not an academic genius or sports minded like the others, I sort of existed somewhere in the middle. Therefore, when I was asked at the age of ten if I'd like to spend the summer with my Aunt Clara and Uncle Ted at their apple orchard in Wisconsin I didn't hesitate to say yes. We lived in New England and were what I came to find out later in life as an upper middle class family, I don't recall going without, but I also understood the concept of hand me downs. My mother was the hand me down queen, everything from dresses to underwear, it was all fair game if it was still in decent shape, the only girl who didn't live this way was the very youngest, we older girls were simply too far apart from her in age. Mother was originally from Wisconsin, had gone to college in Boston, met father, married and set up a home life in New England. Aunt Clara was mothers sister, at the age of 31 she was the youngest of three girls, though we'd only met her a half dozen times my sisters and I agreed she was the *cool* one. She wore makeup, nylons and strappy shoes that looked like they should be in a movie. I found it interesting that my parents were so willing to send me off before my eleventh birthday at the end of June, which put me in a bit of a snit you might say. With my little suitcase packed I said my goodbyes, jumped in the car with golden boy and headed for the halfway point, Cincinnati, where we would meet Aunt Clara. After meeting Aunt Clara golden boy decided he was heading back home, Clara and I went for some supper, found a room for the night and hit the hay. I had apparently gone to sleep immediately because the next thing I remember was her dressed and ready to go standing at the side of my bed repeating my name. "Claudette, wake up, Claudette, come on time to get up." Jeepers, I couldn't recall the last time I'd been awakened so nicely, usually it was Fran or Sarah yelling *everybody up, let's go*, and since we girls shared two rooms side by side there was no such thing as sleeping in. Tossing our bags in the truck we found a diner for breakfast and left for her place around eight, the landscape varied considerably from the upper New England area, I spent much of the first few hours looking out the window. Around ten o'clock Clara announced, "I gotta pee, how bout you squirt?" How that name came to be I'll never know, no one but she and Uncle Ted ever called me squirt. She grabbed another large coffee to go, I got a Snapple along with a candy bar and we hit the road, chit chatting a little here and there during the morning drive, it was after lunch she became more serious and focused in our conversation. "So squirt, how do you feel about having your birthday with us? Will you miss your family?" My answer surprised me, but not her. "Yeah, about as much as they'll miss me." That never affected her, she went right into the next question. "Your sisters started their cycles around eleven, have you started yet?" I was flush, my cheeks felt like they were on fire and I was fidgeting on the seat. "No need to be embarrassed squirt, it's just us girls, no guys around. I'm asking because if you haven't, we should probably get a few things just in case you do. Better to be prepared, the closest store is almost ten miles from the farm." We pulled into the long drive just after four in the afternoon, the orchard lined the drive on both sides as well as up the hillsides, I'd only been there twice before and remembered very little, it was all new and exciting. As we turned the corner into the parking area I saw a small shop with a huge sign, *Vegetables, Fruit, and Fresh Baked Goods* getting out of the truck I could see people milling around inside. I tugged on Aunt Clara's arm and pointed toward the little shop. "We built it about four years ago, we sell what apples are still available, vegetables in season and there's a small state inspected kitchen where I make baked goods. If you're willing to help, I'll put you to work, I think Uncle Ted has some things he'd like to hire you for as well." Did she say *hire*, my world got much brighter hearing her say that word. I had my own room and the hall bath was basically mine, Aunt Clara was doing laundry on a Monday and held up a pair of my hand me down ugly undies. With a frown on her face she spoke. "Is your mom still making you wear your older sister's underwear? I thought they were buying their own more modern stuff." I hung my head in embarrassment, "They do, but mom saved all their old stuff and I have to wear it, I hate them, all the girls laugh at me." "Tell you what, when I'm in town Friday I'm going to buy some different underwear, at least something with a little color." I was ecstatic, thinking to myself that by the time I went home after the summer I might be like the other girls at school. I worked with Aunt Clara in the kitchen and learned how to run the cash register. Uncle Ted had me helping with small things in the barn and would let me sit in front of him on the tractor seat, he took care of the footfeet and controls, I got to steer. When mid-August rolled around I was sad to go, Aunt Clara sent all the new underwear with me, she wasn't sure how mother would accept the colors, she'd cross that bridge if mom had an issue with it. It was my oldest sister Fran who met us halfway this time, golden boy was getting ready for college. Whoopee, who cared. I told her all about my summer, all the things I did to help and had earned over one hundred dollars of my own money. When we got home, mom was unpacking my case and wanted to know where my underwear was, I pointed to the different colored panties and she damned near flipped out. She was on the phone with Aunt Clara in a flash, I could hear her asking why she would let a little girl wear anything but white panties. I have no idea exactly what Clara said, but it shut mother up and the topic never arose again. The following June I was on the way to the farm again, excited about spending the summer with Clara and Ted. Following a hello wave from Uncle Ted on the tractor I trudged down the hall to my room, on the top dresser drawer was a note, *look in the underwear drawer*, signed *Auntie*. I nearly jumped out of my skin, in front of me were a half dozen more pair of panties in assorted colors and patterns. I squealed all the way to the kitchen thanking her profusely for the wonderful surprise, she smiled and told me to set the table. Over supper Ted told me he was going to start me cultivating the sweet corn at the end of the week, he had a 1947 Farmall B tractor he only used for cultivating corn. Friday morning after breakfast I was on the tractor driving around the barn yard getting the feel of things, from there he took me to the corn field where I rode the hitch as he made the first pass through the corn rows, at the end we switched places, me driving with him on the hitch. He had me turn around and begin the next pass back from the way we'd come, by the time I'd cultivated two more rows without ripping up the corn he was ready to jump off. "Okay squirt, your on your own, there's water in the tool box and some toilet paper if you need it. Just hide behind the rear wheel, nobody will see you way out here." At noon Aunt Clara came out with a light lunch and an insulated jug of fresh cold water, she told me to knock off about three, when the sun was just over the barn and come in. That would give me time to shower and wash away the days grime. I cultivated over twenty acres of sweet corn over the next week and loved every dirty, grimy, sweaty minute of it. Talking with mom one evening I let it slip that I'd been driving the tractor by myself, all I remember is her yelling, "Put your aunt on the phone young lady." After fifteen minutes of Clara calming mother and reassuring her all was okay, she handed the phone back to me, we talked another fifteen minutes before hanging up. With cultivating done I was helping Clara in the kitchen baking pies, fried apples and apple bread which never seemed to last even one day. Most days I was cheerful and raring to go, one morning my tummy was hurting badly and I was mopey. It was Aunt Clara who saw me through my first period and by the end of July I was beginning to develop in other areas. Just before it was time to go back home Aunt Clara surprised me when she bought my first ever training bra the next time she was in town. I felt like I owned the world, I was now like most of the other girls in my class, at least I wouldn't be wearing under shirts any longer. Mother did another back flip when I got home after that summer, she was on the phone instantly, only to say nothing more about it after her conversation with Clara. Spending the summer with my aunt and uncle became a part of my existence, I looked forward to it, I helped with farm chores, tending the veggie stand and my most fun time... sweet corn. Ted and I would drive into town, the back loaded with corn and sell until it was all gone. Day after day we'd do that, I loved meeting the different folks who stopped. On the night of my arrival the year I turned seventeen we had a BBQ and big bonfire, neighbors had been invited, when Tobias Enderval walked across the driveway toward the bonfire my heart stopped. I was next to Clara who shook me a bit and whispered, "breathe." He was a handsome full bodied farm boy from across the valley, as Auntie gestured for him to come meet me I sensed he was a bit embarrassed. I extended my hand to shake his, he fidgeted a moment then extended his arm, I was expecting a strong hurtful grip, what I got was a strong sensitive grip with just enough pressure to embrace my hand in his. I had absolutely no idea what to say or do beyond the handshake. Thankfully Clara saved the day. "Toby, this is the niece I've been telling you about, the one from out east. Her name is Claudette, I call her squirt, you might want to ask what she'd like to be called." Before he could speak I blurted out, "Claude, you can call me Claude." I then turned a crimson red, thank God the sun was setting and my face was shadowed. He smiled, "Claudette, I like that. A pretty name for a pretty girl." Clara went to socialize and mingle leaving Toby and I standing next to the fire talking. We roasted hot dogs over the open fire, drank pop and enjoyed more roasted marshmallows than we should have. He talked about how his mom died three years prior, his dad went into a deep depression for a month or so and decided to sell the herd, rent the land and get a job in the city at the brewery. He had just graduated high school and wasn't sure what the future held. We seemed to be comfortable around each other, I liked that he was polite and respectful, not like so many of the boys back home. Walking with Clara and Ted to the house after the last folks left, I was caught off guard by her statement. "I think somebody was twitterpated tonight Ted, what do you think?" "Definitely, never saw Toby look at a girl like that before. He was sure likin' what he saw." I was confused. Twitterpated? What the heck was that? So, I ask. Clara laughed, "Has it been that long since you've watched Bambi?" My response made them stop in their tracks, "Oh, we weren't allowed to see that, mom said it was too violent." Ted laughed and said, "Nonsense, it's still early Clar, let's watch it with her tonight." They were on the couch together, I was in the easy chair, when we got to the part where Thumper was *twitterpated* I had them stop the movie. "Who was twitterpated at the bonfire?" I asked. Ted looked astonished and confused, "Why, Toby of course. He couldn't stop looking at you." That couldn't be, my ears had to be playing tricks on me. I looked at Aunt Clara only to see a smile and nod of the head. "Honey, he likes you.... A lot. Why do you find that so hard to grasp?" "Aunt Clara, nobody likes me in that way. I wear glasses and I could stand to add a pound or two in certain areas, I'm nothing but a skinny runt, he can't possibly think I'm attractive." Ted got my attention, "Claudette, my ears heard the same thing yours did, he said you have a pretty name, guys don't just do that." Clara smiled, "Claudette, where does it say every guy likes the same thing? Besides, you'd better get used to the attention because he started working here as soon as school was done, you'll see him almost every day while you're with us." What a summer, Toby and I spent most or our spare time together when we weren't working, along with a few sweet surprises when we were working. The first time he brought a picnic lunch I was cultivating corn, when I got to the end of the field near the pond there stood Toby with a smile on his face and a basket at his feet. He told me to wear my swimsuit under my jeans the next day and we'd swim in the pond, considering the pond was spring fed that water was cold by my standards. I knew by mid-summer I knew I was falling for Toby, I asked Aunt Clara if I was too young to be in love. "Do you like each other?" I nodded. "Has he kissed you?" I shook my head. "Well honey, you're only seventeen, no need to rush into a romance just because others do. Maybe let him know you like him before you go home, see where it goes from there squirt, heck, we don't even know for sure you'll be back next year. Especially if you go to college after graduation." The tears flowed freely the day I had to leave, just before I got in the car I let him kiss me, my very first kiss from a boy, we vowed to stay in contact via Skype and text. When mother found out I had a pseudo boyfriend she nearly had a cardiac arrest, you'd have thought I'd killed someone the way she went on and on. I was too young, too inexperienced, what was I thinking? Had I let him *touch* me, her word not mine, she made liking a boy sound dirty. I called Aunt Clara in tears, breaking down and telling her all mom had said. She told me to hang up and not answer the house phone. My brother answered it and yelled, "Mom, it's Aunt Clara and she sounds pissed." How he got away with cussing in front of her I never could figure out. I heard a bunch of *hold on* and *wait a minute* and then *are you sure* before she settled down enough to talk with her sister. Mother didn't bring it up again, but she made it clear she was upset with me for having called Clara. The school year couldn't seem to go fast enough, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life at eighteen and asked Aunt Clara if I could come live with them for a year until I figured things out. She and Ted were fine with the idea, it took her four or five calls with mom too finally drop the bombshell. I was prepared for a third world war, surprisingly mother took it in stride saying she thought it might be a good idea to be gone a while, to give me some time to figure out what I might want to do. Dad had a seven year old F-150 pickup he never drove other than an occasional run to the hardware on a weekend. I on the other hand loved and drove that truck every chance I got. Mom said he bought it when he was going through his mid-life crisis, wanted a truck like all the other guys, only he always drove his Lexus. To my amazement they gave the truck to me as a graduation present, they'd had it gone through by the dealer and put new tires on to boot. Aunt Clara was going to fly in, we'd drive back together. With Fran and Sara out of the house we girls each had a room to ourselves, there was still the extra bed in each room, but no one sleeping in them. Clara and I bunked in the same room while she was there, on the second night I heard her get out of bed and sit on the floor next to my bed. She started the conversation. Not at all what I was expecting, "Claud are you on birth control of any type?" "No, why do I need birth control?" "Fair enough question. Honey, you're 18, it's a natural part of falling in love, and nothing says you're going to have sex, but if you do don't you want to make sure there isn't an unwanted child? Every woman brings her greatest treasure to the man she loves, her virginity, and if we love them that much, we end up wanting to give our body to him. I'd rather you were prepared and didn't have sex than unprepared and did. Am I making any sense to you?" "You are, thank you. I'm going to have lots of questions over the next year, things I can't ask mom." As she stood and walked to her bed I lay in the dark thinking I'd just had the mother/daughter talk I always craved..... but it was with my aunt. I was now 18, it would be an exciting year, two weeks after my eighteenth birthday Clara and I hit the road headed west to Wisconsin. As we pulled into what I used to think was a long driveway I realized it was no more than one hundred yards, remembering it seemed much longer when I was ten. The apple trees were in full bloom, the bees were working the blossoms without end, part of the reason Aunt Clara sold some of the best honey around. It was late evening when we arrived, Uncle Ted was in the drive waving at us, and behind him stood my heart throb, Toby. Flutters crashed through my chest, I didn't wonder why in the least, I got the impression auntie had been reading my mind when we had *the talk*. Sliding out of the cab Ted gave me a hug then went to Clara, behind him was Toby, he softly reached for me, without a moments hesitation I lifted my lips to his, his kiss made my knees feel like Jello. If he'd have said *let's go get naked* I wouldn't have resisted one bit. Walking hand in hand to the house I pondered my internal feelings, with my eighteenth behind me I found myself thinking something I'd never thought before. *I'm legal, if Toby and I were to make love we'd be two consenting adults*. On Monday Clatra took me to see Dr. Anders, a sweet older lady who started me on the pill immediately, told me which drug store to go to for the best rates and that I should wait at least three weeks before I had sex. Walking to the truck I mentioned to Clara that I had no plans to have sex anytime soon. She smiled, held me in a side hug and spoke softly into my ear, "I watched the way you and Toby held onto each other and I saw your soaked panties in the laundry basket this morning, you may not be planning on any sex, but I get the distinct impression you will, sooner rather than later. If you do honey take your time, don't rush things, let it happen naturally." Clara had a huge belated birthday bash for me at the orchard, all the neighbors I'd gotten to know through the years were present, the food was abundant, laughter filled the air well into the night. Toby and I necked a little at his truck as he was leaving, I was feeling rather amorous and made a risky move by pushing myself against him ever so slightly, he responded by holding me tighter. He was almost in a panic when he pushed us apart, "Goodnight, I need to go, love you." What had just happened? He said goodnight Love you, he'd never said he loved me before, I was on cloud nine and ask Clara what she thought about it. "Honey, look at yourself in the mirror on the door. Your little girl features are gone, your hips have widened, you have a nicely shaped butt, and most of all you have boobs. Are you a B cup now?" I shook my head, "Still an A, but at least I fill the cup entirely now. Do you really think I look attractive?" "Doesn't matter what I think Claude, Toby thinks you are and that's all that counts, that's likely why he left in a rush, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop himself. Time you went to bed girl, got chores in the morning." For one of the few times in my life I let my fingers drift inside my panties lying in bed, they were wet and sticky, it felt like my skin was on fire, I smelled them and though some may think I was insane, I tasted them. It wasn't revolting to me, it wasn't something I would do again, but now I knew. I'd heard girls in school talk about guys going *down* on them and often wondered why they would do that, after what I'd just experienced, I realized it wasn't as gross as I imagined it to be. DrIfting off to sleep I couldn't stop thinking of Toby, my heart throb, and who knows, maybe my soon to be lover. I fit back into the routines and schedules of farm life as if I hadn't been gone for nine months. Over the next month Toby and I went out several times, the first time he asked me to go out I asked Clara if it was okay, her answer both shocked and set me free. "Honey, you're eighteen now, a big girl, a woman. You can come and go as you please, all I ask is that you let me know when you're going and when you think you might return so I don't worry. If its past bedtime leave a text, I'll see it when I get up to pee." Not in a hundred years would my mother have afforded me such freedom. During the week we both had early morning chores and kept our galivanting to a minimum, Friday and Saturday night we stayed out later. Our make out sessions were increasing in intensity as well, it was becoming harder and harder to not go places we hadn't been before metaphorically speaking. The first time his hand went up my side and cupped my itty bitty titty I wasn't sure what to do.... so I did nothing, he softly cupped my breast through my blouse and bra, squeezing gently, almost as though he was forming clay. I let him feel my breasts outside my blouse for a few minutes before I told him I needed to go in, if I hadn't I'm not sure I'd have stopped no matter how far he wanted to go. It was two weeks later we planned to take in a movie and then see what transpired. As I dressed I did one of the most audacious things I had ever contemplated, I left my bra off, I liked the feeling of my nipples rubbing against the fabric. At the supper table I noticed Aunt Clara watching me more than usual, when Ted went out to feed the animals and we were clearing the table she took my arm and faced me. "Are you sure you want to go without a bra? Your nipples stick out enough that even I can see them. Has he touched you there?" I nodded, "He has outside my blouse, auntie it feels so good and sends tingles all through my body." "Yes, I've noticed your panties lately, no mistaking arousal when they're that thick with dried girl juice. Claudette, you be careful sweetheart. You are taking the pill every day, aren't you?" I nodded. "Good, just be careful honey, passion has a way of sneaking up and captivating you without you even knowing it took place. Keep your panties on as long as possible baby, don't give it away. Make him love and respect you enough to give him your body, just like we talked about that night in your room." I thought it better to not tell her I had contemplated not wearing panties under my skirt and then chickened out. I knew she was forgiving and cool with budding romance, but I don't think she would have been pleased if I had gone commando. We typically made out at the end of the driveway when he brought me home, that night was no different concerning location, it was monumental concerning how far I would let him go. We were lip locked when he suddenly pulled back whispering, "You aren't wearing a bra, can I feel them bare?" My answer was to take his hand and put it directly on my small breast, in ten minutes time he had my blouse open caressing them into hard little mounds, he called them succulent and bent over to kiss them. A kiss led to a nibble, a nibble led to a taste, a taste led to sucking a nipple into his mouth, the feelings from the nipple being sucked caused my pussy to cream on the spot. Before my mind cleared, I felt his hand going up my thigh under the skirt, instinctively I clamped my thighs shut, which caused him to moan softly. "Claude, pretty eyes, I want to feel you. Can I at least rub you outside your panties? I promise I won't go any further." "Okay, but not between my legs, not tonight." What the hell was I doing saying *not tonight*. I stopped thinking about that as I felt his broad gentle hand stroke across the front of my panties. I was sure he could feel my bush beneath the fabric, I was so glad I'd worn decent panties and nothing too skimpy, I didn't want him to think I was a slut. My bush isn't very big, a simple V, but it is thick and kind of spongy when it's enclosed in my panties. I so wanted to spread my legs and let him take me, aunties words swirled through the fog, *don't give it away*. "Toby, sweetie, I need to go in. Maybe we should stop for tonight." He looked dejected as I buttoned my blouse, I leaned into another kiss, told him to be a good boy and walk me to the door. He drove up the drive to the house, opened the car door for me and kissed me softly. I pulled back, my hands on his chest, "Yes darling, you'll get to touch me again, just don't rush things, we'll get there in our own time." Kissing me one last time he told me he loved me and headed on home. I sensed the time was soon coming when I would not only let him touch me but take me as well. I was aware that he was as inexperienced as I was, but millions of other couples did it without foreknowledge, so could we. It was in August, a few months past my birthday that I decided tonight would be the night to let him have my cherry. I purposely wore a sundress, no bra and the sexiest panties in my wardrobe. We were going to supper and then to his place to watch movies, his dad was gone for the weekend and we'd have some privacy. Snuggled together on the couch the sparks were flying and we hadn't even started a movie. He had the top of my dress open playing with my breasts, sucking, kissing, then to my complete surprise he put a hickie on the side of my left tit. I pulled back looking at him as if I might be upset, inside it thrilled the hell out of me, he'd marked me, I was his. He stared into my eyes as he spoke. "You're mine Claude, these titties are mine and I want the rest of you to be mine. Can I touch your panties?" I scooted down on the couch, my dress slid up a bit as my legs spread, "You can touch me Toby, but only if you do it inside my panties." With his left hand he drew me tight to his chest kissing me as his right hand slid up my thigh stopping at the crotch of my panties. When he asked if I was sure I nodded and opened my legs further. As he cupped my sex I could feel the juices flowing into my nether region, the labia were soaked, had it not been for panties I was sure it would drip out of me. I moaned into his mouth and my body shivered as his hand went to the waist band of my undies, when his fingers slid under the elastic, I knew there would be no turning back. I was whimpering softly into his mouth as he kissed me passionately, the moment of truth had arrived when his fingers went into my bush and stayed still. It was a feeling I wanted to last forever, his hand on my most private part, when his hand moved further down, I opened my legs wide allowing his fingers to find my wet fertile playground. His middle finger moved up and down the slit before the wetness sort of sucked it into the folds as I pushed against the intruding member. His finger was inside the labia, I wanted it inside me. "Go down a little bit Toby, put it inside me... ah, there, yes baby, push it in and out gently." His finger was close but not reaching my hymen, besides, it was his cock I wanted to pop my cherry, not a finger. I grabbed for his crotch finding a fine specimen of man meat waiting for my pleasure, even if I didn't know it yet. He felt huge even though as I later found out he was the average of most men, he was at least six inches and wide. I pulled his pants open and marveled at its sight, it had thick veins along the sides, a thick head that looked like a helmet and was purple, I would come to learn he was what is called cut. I didn't know or care at this point in my life, I knew one thing and only one thing, I wanted his dick inside me, tears or no tears, I was determined to become a woman that night. The atmosphere was loaded with passion as he spoke, "Claudette, I'm a virgin. Are you?" I nodded. "Will you tell me if I'm doing something that hurts you? I don't want to hurt you." "It will hurt when you break my hymen, but if you stop and wait when I tell you to it'll be okay, my sister says it starts to feel better once the hymen is broken. What you need to do now is undress me, take my panties off, I want you to kiss me between my legs. I want to know what that's like." Toby wasted no time taking my dress off, my exposed little mounds were like a magnet for his mouth, I finally pushed him away and reminded him my panties were still on. Slowly lowering them I could hear him groan and muttering something about how beautiful I was. When he kissed the labia I literally creamed on the spot, I apparently gushed because it was all over his mouth and chin. I was horrified, he was grinning ear to ear, licking around his mouth like a cat licking milk off its whiskers. He lowered again and began to lick softly, oh my God it was heavenly, except it wasn't hitting the spot. I took hold of his ears and lightly moved him upward until his tongue found my clit, the second orgasm hit as hard as the first, my tummy was convulsing, hips bucking into his face and my breath was nowhere to be found. I heard someone say softly, "Oh Fuck", suddenly realizing it was me. He continued to lick until I humped full force into his face a third time, this time I pushed him away, the sensations were too much. I pulled upward lightly on his hair until he was face to face with me. "My God toby that was wonderful. How did you know what to do?" "My older brother gave me a porn video that showed how to lick a woman, I was hoping you would let me." "Anytime you want to bury your face in my pussy is fine with me Toby Enderval, but right now you need to get undressed and make love to me. I'm not sure what to do either, Aunt Clara told me a while ago if we got this far, we'd figure it out." I watched in amazement as he undressed, finally watching him lower his briefs exposing his rock hard love missile. I wondered if it would fit inside me knowing full well it would, I was no different than any other woman that I knew of. Cocks and pussies were meant to be together, case closed. I looked at the glistening juice at the tip, I touched and then tasted it, remembering it was called precum. As that massive hunk of man hovered over me, I reached between us and positioned his cock at the entrance of my vagina telling him to push slightly. We both gasp as the tip opened first the outer and then the inner labia, as it sat against the entrance to my love hole there seemed to be a barrier. He pushed a little harder and the walls of my vagina opened enough to allow the thick head inside, I pushed back on his chest and he stopped. Thirty seconds or so later I told him to continue, I was sufficiently wet allowing him to slide forward as tight as I was. My vaginal walls were being stretched and massively stimulated at the same time I thought he was splitting me in two. When he hit the hymen I pushed back on his hairy chest, the muscles were hard and rippled. I knew this was the part where pain would be involved. "Toby, honey. Push hard when I tap your arm and when my cherry is popped stop and let me get used to it. Okay?" I relaxed as best I could, tapped his arm and waited, it stung like hell when his huge cockhead pushed through, being the lover I knew he'd be he stopped right away. He leaned down kissing the tears off my cheeks, telling me he loved me and asking if I wanted to stop. I shook my head and held tightly onto his arms before saying okay. Pushing forward slowly he began to piston in and out, not going deep, taking just a bit more depth with each stroke until finally his pelvis touched mine. "I'm in all the way pretty eyes, are you alright?" "Uh huh, it's starting to feel good, make love to me Toby." I've heard about people who fuck hard and destroy the sheets on their first go round, that wasn't us. We were slow and methodical, the head of his cock opening me, stimulating the walls that quickly gripped his shaft sucking him in deeper. The sensations were beginning to flood my body, everything from my toes to the top of my head was throbbing as the climax built, suddenly he picked up speed and increased his thrust as he took us both into the next hemisphere. I could feel his dick pulse as it swelled and then as the sperm hit my cervix I listened to him groan like a feral animal, his back was arched, his crotch pushed tight to mine as shot after shot of sperm painted the inside of my vagina. I was shivering, my hips wanting to buck and push against him, I noticed I had grabbed my right breast and I was squeezing it hard, my nipples were so stiff they hurt, I'd never felt such a sensation in all my life. As he softened and fell out, I could tell I was swollen, I hadn't realized the soreness yet, but soon would. He left and came back with a warm cloth to clean me, as soon as he touched me I took his hand away from my body, relieving him of the cloth as I carefully wiped away the gooey mess we'd created. When I tried to stand, I felt like I had a stick shoved up my ass, it hurt to walk normally, it was then I knew what other girls meant when they said someone was walking bow legged. We wrapped up in a blanket and lay in the other's arms a solid hour or more drifting in and out of sleep. It was eleven thirty when we put our clothes back on, when he took me home we stopped at the end of my driveway, but only long enough to kiss a little. As I walked in, I was surprised Clara was still awake on the couch, as though she'd been waiting for me. I tried walking as normally as possible heading to my bedroom, I was on the potty dribbling cum mixed with pee into the water when the door opened slightly. Clara's head popped in and looked at me. "You doing okay squirt?" She asked. "What do you mean, why wouldn't I be okay?" She invited herself the rest of the way in and sat on the vanity top. "I've seen that walk before Claude, hell, I've walked that walk before, the one where a stiff dick has been shoved in your pussy for the first time. So now tell me the truth, are you alright?" I smiled as much as I could given the situation, "I'm okay auntie, sore and swollen, but I'm good. He was gentle and let me control everything except when we climaxed, it was like there was no stopping him." "Yup, men tend to be a runaway freight train at the end, did he get you off as well?" "Oh my, he licked me and I came, then when he was cumming inside me I started all over again. It was wonderful auntie, I want to do it more, but only with Toby." "Claudette, you've tasted the wonders of being a complete woman

, there will be no holding you back any longer. A word of advice, make sure you stay on the pill and don't behave foolishly, you aren't married, no reason you should be screwing every day. Have fun and enjoy each other, just be smart about it." She slipped out as quietly as she'd slipped in, I washed and soothed my sore pussy as much as I could before crawling between the sheets, my mind drifting back to how wonderful it felt being made love to by Toby. The next few days we did nothing more than hold hands and kiss with an occasional feel of my breast or me rubbing a hand across his groin quickly. I was walking fairly normal but still a little sore, the swelling had subsided, and it didn't hurt to dry myself after peeing. That Saturday we went to what they called a *field party* at one of the local kid's farm. It was all eighteen and older people, none older than early twenties from what I could tell. There was beer or pop, a fire to roast wieners or marshmallows and lots of making out. Everywhere you looked couples were in the process of kissing, touching, feeling, I noticed a couple trying to remain behind a tree as she sucked his dick. Toby saw me watching and asked if I wanted to leave, I told him I'd like to stay and make out a while, which we did. Sitting on the road before turning into the driveway we were in the midst of a steamy situation, he had my jeans open, his hand in my panties, my legs open and a finger in my wet sloppy cunt as we kissed. I had unzipped his jeans, unsnapped them and hauled his meat out, stroking him when I broke the kiss speaking in a whisper into his mouth. "Would you want me to do what that girl was doing behind the tree? To put your cock in my mouth. I will if you want me to, I just don't know how." He pushed me back a bit and answered, "I'd love that, but let's figure out what we're doing so we do it right. I'll ask my brother, is there anyone you can ask? Maybe your older sisters." I knew immediately who I'd ask, but it certainly wouldn't be my sisters, even though I knew they both sucked their boyfriend's cock. No, it would be Clara, she'd give me the low down without any BS, she'd tell me what to do. He fingered me to a small orgasm as I stroked him, just as I was recovering he bucked and shot a stream of jiz half way to the windshield, I was secretly glad it was his truck that would need cleaning and not mine after seeing that load of cum fly through the air. It also gave me a good idea of what it looked like when he came inside me last Friday night. As he relaxed the cum dribbled onto my hand, warm, creamy, thick and white as rice. I've read the deeper white the cum is the greater number of sperm present, that's why as men age and their testosterone levels decrease their semen becomes more translucent. They aren't making as much sperm. We wiped off what we could with paper towels he kept in the cab, drove up the drive, kissed five or ten minutes and I went in, promising I'd be ready for round number two very soon. Clara was up again, waiting. "No bowed legs this week, am I to assume you didn't do anything or are you simply getting used to his shaft inside your little cunny?" "No love making this week, I gave him a hand job and he got me off with his fingers. I do need to ask you something though. We went to a party at Freidrichs, there was a couple behind a tree and she had his penis in her mouth going back and forth. I know it's called a blow job, and I want to do that to Toby, but I don't know how. Will you tell me?" "Ah, the famous Freidrich field parties, those have been going on for years. Oh, and honey if you're going to be a woman in every way it's time you left biology class, it's a cock or dick, a pussy or cunt, tit's not breasts, if he goes down on you it's called *eating you*, the only thing you're right about is the term blowjob, although it's also called sucking him off. As for sucking Toby's cock, what do you want to know?" Another valuable lesson. I needed to learn and use this new vocabulary when appropriate, like when Toby had his cock stuffed inside my hungry little pussy, my legs wrapped around him humping into his thrust with every ounce of energy I had. Yes, telling him to fuck me and cum inside my pussy would be a proper application for such words. "How does it taste? How far in your mouth does it go? What if I choke and gag on it? And finally, where does the cum go when they get off?" She was chuckling by that moment, reaching over to me she rubbed my shoulder. "Oh Claude, you are such a gem to be around. Let's tick these off one at a time." "First: It doesn't have much of a taste unless he isn't clean or has already been in your pussy. Second: You take him in as far as you're comfortable with. A good man will let you decide and not try cramming it down your throat. Third: If you choke don't go so deep right away, let your muscles relax as you take him in a little deeper. Fourth: Where does the cum go? That's up to you, the first few times I sucked off your uncle I couldn't take it all and opened my mouth to let it run out. Now I swallow every drop he has for me, and I love it, I love feeling that strong stream of cum hit the back of my throat, the warmth, the delicate taste. I just love swallowing his cum, feeling it slide down my throat knowing it was my soft mouth that rendered him helpless." I was excited and befuddled, "Where can I learn to do that? Is there a book or a video?" She chuckled again, "How about I simply tell you then let you practice on a banana or a small cucumber, just to strengthen the jaw muscles a bit. If he doesn't cum right away your jaws can start to ache and it isn't fun anymore. I need to ask if his shower is big enough for two people?" "Yes, I think so, I haven't been in it, but it looks big, I know you can walk into it." Smiling she took my hand in both of hers, "I have a suggestion, do your first few blow jobs in the shower, that way if you can't take it all in your mouth it'll be easier to clean up. I've let Ted cum on my tits a few times, it's erotic as hell, not on my face though, only my tits." The following day while Ted was out doing chores I peeled a banana and began the sucking motion, Clara would tell me what I did right or wrong, within minutes I was taking four or five inches in my mouth without choking. Next we switched to a cucumber, a large dill size which stayed hard and stiffer, like Toby's cock. She was telling me to purse my lips outward, make sure I had plenty of saliva on my lips and to suck as I withdrew. At the ten minute mark she told me to stop, I was so thankful, my jaws hurt and were beginning to cramp. I continued practicing over the next few days, on Wednesday morning Aunt Clara handed me something wrapped in a paper towel. A larger cucumber she'd carved in the shape of a cock, including a thick bulbous head. "Is Toby about that size or is this too big?" I wrapped my hand around the shaft and the head, "Nope, that seems about right." She stared at me, "How does he get all of that into your skinny little body?" I laughed, "Not sure, I just know that it sends tingles all through my body and makes my pussy cream all over it." Getting used to the head was the most unusual part, within a half hour I'd gotten past that and felt I was ready for the real thing, Toby's dad would be out late, tonight would be the night my lover filled my mouth with his cum. I was both anxious and scared, I wanted it to be good for him. As I was getting ready for the evening Clara poked her head in the door. "Are you planning on making love as well tonight. Or just a blow job?" "I thought guys couldn't cum twice right away." She laughed, "At Toby's age he'll be ready to go within an hour. A suggestion, get him off right away with your mouth, then later he'll last longer when he's inside you. He won't last more than five minutes on his first blow job." While waiting for Toby to pick me up Clara and I sat on the couch chatting, she chuckled a little then said, "Maybe you should teach him a new way to eat you while waiting for him to get hard a second time. Ever heard of sitting on a guys face?" "I've heard other girls talk about it, but I haven't seen it, I'm not sure what to do." "Have him lay on the bed with his head a foot or more from the headboard, put one knee over a shoulder, then swing the other leg over him until your pussy is right above his mouth, spread your knees enough that you lower onto his mouth and tell him to lick. When Ted and I do that he plays with my tits as he eats me, you'll like it, another benefit is you can grab the headboard and grind into his mouth." "Oh my gosh Auntie that sounds great, do you think he'll be ready to screw me after I cum?" "Child, you can count on it, his dick will be so hard you'll be able to move down his body and slide that monster directly into your skinny little cunt. Once you hit bottom, he'll probably take over with his hands on your hips pounding up into your puss. If you aren't too lost with the feelings, lean forward and put a nipple in his mouth, he'll be filling you with cum in no time." I was dressed to suck and fuck, little to no makeup, hair pulled back in a ponytail, nothing covering my small tits except a pull over shirt, a short skirt and the tiniest panties I had. A pair that I could wear with the jeans only a few inches above my crotch, only tonight they would be under my skirt and easy to take off. I had a second pair in my purse knowing I would be leaking cum all the way home and I didn't relish the thought of putting wet cold panties back on. As excited as I was my pussy was already producing a lot of juice and he wasn't even here yet. We wasted no time once I was in his truck, it being one with a bench seat meant I could slide right next to him. We were no more than out of the driveway when his hand dropped to my thigh, I immediately opened my legs giving him free access to my kitty, my hand in turn rested on the stiff mass that would soon be filling my mouth and my pussy. It would be a night of firsts on three fronts, a blow job, sitting on his face and what Clara called riding him cowboy. My panties were beyond damp by the time we walked into his bedroom and began stripping, we held each other necking as we waited for the water in the shower to get hot then stepped in. We washed and scrubbed and pinched and tickled and kissed and fingered and ground against one another until I pushed him against the wall, sank to my knees and put his cock in my mouth. He let out a yelp as my lips slowly slid down his flagpole until the head hit my throat, I backed off, sucking as I pursed my lips like Aunt Clara had told me, then pushed his cock back into my mouth. With a steady bobbing motion I felt his body begin to stiffen, I decided I would try the nasty talking and see if Clara was right. Looking into his eyes I pulled off long enough to say, "Cum in my mouth Toby, give me your cream." As his hands went to the side of my head he began to fuck my mouth, he wasn't rough or pushing too deep, he was fucking my mouth, claiming it as his. I could feel his dick swell like Clara said it would, I pulled back locking my lips around the head and prepared to swallow, the ferocity of the first shot caught me by surprise causing me to choke, I was no more ready for the second than I was the first. I did as Clara had told me, I opened my mouth and let it run down my chin, I was so glad I'd listened to Clara or there would have been a mess somewhere, possibly my clothes. Pulling me up Toby put his arms around me, lifting my chin for a kiss, not being grossed out knowing I'd just swallowed some of his cum. Though he'd just dumped a huge load into my mouth his cock was still not completely soft, I found myself thinking how hard it would be by the time I impaled myself on it. I was going to enjoy sliding my very wet pussy down his cock until my pussy touched his groin, until my pussy hair mingled with the forest he had growing. Drying off I told him to lay on the bed with his head a foot or so below the headboard. He looked at me with wonder. As I was straddling his face I told him what I wanted. "We're gonna try another new thing, I'm gonna put my pussy on your mouth so you can lick me, Clara called it sitting on your face." "Yeah, I watched a vid my brother had a few years ago, it had some babe sitting on a guy's face but she made him lick her ass, you aren't expecting me to do that are you?" That was something I found disgusting, "Lick my ass, why would you lick my ass? Just lick my pussy and play with my tits until I cum." As he lapped the juices from my almost dripping vulva it took him no time to find my clit, my hips were moving back and forth dragging my pussy across his tongue when I felt his hands leave my tits and grab my waist. He sucked and licked my clit until I could take no more and gushed on his face, there was no holding me still any longer, I was shaking, hips bucking, chest heaving, hips jabbing into his face as I came like a waterfall. I did just as Clara said I would, I leaned forward and grabbed the headboard. Toby never tried to move me, he kept softly flicking my clit causing my body to jerk and make little noises. Recovering I lifted my hips, kept my grip on the headboard for stability and moved down his body, I stopped to reposition my hands on his chest and proceeded to move my torso toward his dick. When I was right above his dick I whispered *put it in* as I lowered onto his throbbing pole, as wet as I was we were pussy to belly in three strokes where I stopped and ground my hips hoping to get even more inside. I moved slowly at first, pulling all the way up until just the tip was left inside me and then plunge all the way down until out bodies collided. It didn't surprise me when as Clara said he would he grabbed my hips, held me still and began to hammer upward into my steamy cunt. That hard driving action took me over the edge in no time followed by another within minutes before he stopped. I looked into his eyes frantically wanting him to continue, with a smile he told me to lift off then get on my hands and knees. I felt those large rough hands softly move across my tiny ass cheeks and then grip my hips, his cock was looking for my entrance, by arching my back a little I could feel him at the hole, I pushed back forcing him inside, when our bodies met we both let out a groan. Full, so full of cock... and deep, I felt like he was going to split me in two, at the same time it felt wonderful. Toby stayed still until I pulled forward a bit and then pushed back onto him, he began the see saw motion of going in and out of my pussy, the feelings were beyond anything I'd known, I was pushing back every time he pushed forward. I was on a collision course with an orgasm and told him I was. "I'm gonna cum Toby, cum with me, cum in my pussy, fuck me hard, cum in my pussy." His movements increased in both speed and thrust, our bodies were making a slapping sound with each stroke, my insides were tingling from head to toe as I felt it build from the pussy outward. When I could contain it no more, I shoved my ass back against him as hard as I could and let out a scream of ecstasy as my body quivered. That apparently set him off because within three more strokes he was pressed tight to my pussy pumping me full of sperm, I felt every jet that shot from his cock against my cervix, and damn it felt good, it felt exhilarating, my vagina filled with hot creamy thick sperm. When my hips and lower body stopped gyrating, I slumped forward off his dick which seemed to make a POP noise as it left my body. Lying together in the dark we were completely worn out, Toby was snoring softly as I dozed in and out, I noticed it was already eleven o'clock and shook Toby. "Baby we'd better get dressed your dad will be home soon and I need to get home. Ted wants me to start cultivating corn tomorrow which means I'll be up early." We did a quick rinse off in the shower, dressed and he took me home. Clara was up when I walked in, we smiled that knowing smile as I walked toward her, plopping myself on the couch next to her. Clara smiled and patted my hand, "Well, how'd it go? Did you get a face full or did you swallow?" "I took your advice and sucked him off in the shower, my God I couldn't believe how much cum he had. I was only able to swallow a little, the rest I had to let run out. I can only imagine what my clothes would have looked like if we hadn't been in the shower." Clara took a sip of her wine and faced me, "You'll get to a place where you can swallow all of it, your Uncle Ted cums like a damned fire hose, it took me a while to keep it all in. You'll get there, give yourself time." Which is exactly what we did, we gave ourselves time to learn each other, both likes and dislikes as well as what it took to further our sexcapades. Everyone knew Toby and I were together, at the orchard we were two hired hands doing our jobs with a few kisses and grab ass tossed into the mix on occasion, after work, we belonged to each other. By the end of my year I knew what I wanted, it was to be an ER nurse, mother wanted me to come home and Clara agreed citing that I could save money living at home. Being nearly twenty I made sure mom realized I was no longer a little girl to be told what I would and wouldn't do. I would abide by the rules of the household but I was no longer a child and she was not to bring up my choice of underwear... period. Toby had reached the conclusion that he wanted to milk cows again, he had begun to buy heifers to be bred, he was going to stay on at Apple Cove until they freshened and would then milk full time. He felt he could sustain himself with thirty head, the farm was paid for and he still had most of the machinery from before. He was excited for me and said he would see me if I was back visiting, our tentative plans were for me to finish my schooling, move back and marry him, I could work at the hospital thirty miles away, telling each other we'd wait forever for the other. But as they say, *planning is what we do while we live life* and the best of our plans never did come to fruition. Though we talked on the phone and skyped a few times there was something between us, which in time caused us to drift apart. I met and married a young doctor with whom I had three children, the two oldest already out of college, the youngest just graduated from high school. My husband? Pancreatic cancer took him too soon, here I was at forty eight all by myself more or less. Tricia, the youngest, would be attending college in Ohio on an academic scholarship, (smart, too smart for her own britches) the two oldest were married, one in Washington State, the other in Guam with her Husband who is an Air Force pilot flying C-5 transport/cargo planes. We skype and facetime often, I get to see the grandkids and them, but seldom do I see them in the flesh. Tricia was halfway through her first semester and I was contemplating selling our big old rambling house when my phone rang. It was Aunt Clara, I hadn't spoken to her in several months, like six or seven, she was calling to let me know Ted had died, wondering if I could make it to his memorial service since both my folks had passed on. * Parts two and three are finished and will be submitted soon.

Whilst never ever comfortable with a 'gay' tag to my name, I haven't exactly been happy being called 'hetero' either and even being called 'normal' leaves me a bit confused - what do they mean exactly, by 'normal'? It comes down to the simple fact, that I like sex; end of story! I'm not particularly fussed who with, just so long as no-one gets hurt; there's no coercion or drugs; everyone is legally old enough to get involved and hopefully that all parties involved enjoy it! Therefore while one day, you might indeed find me in the middle of a gay romp; the next day I might be the filling in a two-woman sandwich or on another day just enjoying a 'normal' male-female bit of loving. I do draw the line falling in love with a man; well, so far that is, but even the impossible could happen one day! And until the evening that I'll be telling you about in this story, I'd never found myself in that slightly strange world of cross-dressers, transsexuals and inter-sexes either. Those seemed to be weird 'kinks' to me, strangenesses on the edge of oddities and yet somehow fascinating, despite that. So here goes my story... As a travelling salesman, a status that I rather enjoy, given our reputed sexual appetite, I cover a 'patch' or territory based on the lower western half of Britain; I travel from Land's End up to North Wales so a fair amount of my time is spent away from home, doing my best to live up to the perceived status. Actually I'm officially a Sales Engineer; explaining the technical side of our products to potential customers, but it's the same thing as a Sales Rep really - travelling around from town to town; city to city, with a slightly different spiel but just trying to drum up business. Home to me is just a house as I divorced my wife some five years ago. I don't think we should never have got married and now as I approach thirty I've few plans to settle down again. My house is my own so I've got freedom to do what I choose and with an ability to find sex in pretty well every port, so to speak, I've no need for a full- time partner or a home companion. And so it was that one evening, having made myself comfortable in the sole decent hotel of yet another far-flung town, I wandered out to imbibe a few drinks and to see if I could find some company for the night or even just for a few hours. Ok - the town was nothing to shout about but at least it looked cleanish and was seemingly and boringly quite sedate really, so I was almost astonished to hear music and laughter from somewhere up ahead. As I neared the place, the sounds got louder until I rounded a corner and found what appeared to be a street party in full swing; upwards of perhaps forty to fifty people all enjoying themselves. I stood almost stock still; shocked to find such enthusiastic jollity in such a quiet backwater. The road was closed off and they'd got a small stage set up with what sounded to be a halfway decent group playing enthusiastically on it; there was bunting across the road and flags and balloons and an assortment of tables and chairs were spread around, the tables variously covered with bottles and food. I was impressed by their industry - someone had been very busy and all for...what? I didn't have to wait for long to find out the cause as a couple of giggling heavily-costumed matrons swirled out of the evening shadows and gathering me up, they part-dragging, part-leading me towards the centre of the activity. In a bit of a daze I was introduced to some men and women whose names I promptly forgot and had a plate of sandwiches and a glass thrust into my hands and then I was on my own again - but now in the midst of the whirlwind of fun. I'm glad to say that since it was now early evening, such young kids there may have been appeared to have departed, leaving only a few teenagers around. It took a little while before I discovered the cause of it all; then I quickly cottoned on as I read the banner that was strung across the street. "The Throbwood Thespian Theatre; End of Production Street Party" it pronounced, thereby explaining in a few words what the action was all about...and as I was reading it someone bumped clumsily into my side, a hand resting heavily on my arm thereafter. I looked back down from the sky to see a figure that had to come from my worst nightmare! A parody of the very ghastliest thing I might have mistakenly 'picked up' one night, assuming that I was exceedingly drunk at the time! A very obviously weird personage seemingly in her or his sixties at a guess, badly disguised with garishly smudged makeup and a rakishly askew wig in middle-aged woman's clothing. I guessed that he (presumably he) was in character but whoever it was, was patently very drunk, which did nothing to endear him to me, especially as he now clung to my arm and breathed whiskey fumes all over me. "Hell, hell...o, are newww youuu roun' here?" he slurred, his eyes trying and failing to focus on me; his breasts sagging all over the place. "No, I'm not a new you; I'm just new here," I replied patiently, untangling myself from his embrace and from his mangled drunken language, "Just visiting; nice party." "Always have a nend of season party," he continued, blurring his speech heavily, "We a'ways have a whole lotta fun..." "And a whole lot to drink too," I replied under my breath...leaning away from the miasma of mixed alcohol that hung around him. ""And I...I...I got no-one to haveny fun with...d'you think we could...?" he mumbled as he tried to wink and lean seductively against me both at the same time and failed. I was rescued a few moments later by a considerably younger gentleman, who firmly pushed the elderly personage away and stood beside me in his stead. "Silly old bugger never knows when to stop, sorry about that," he said, "Great character actor when he's sober..." I laughed lightly, feeling very grateful for having been rescued. "So what was the closing production?" I asked, having done a small amount of amateur dramatics in my time. "Hah - you'd never have heard of it," he said, rolling his eyes, "It was a play, well almost a pantomime, written by one of our fellows - who won't get a chance to write again, if I have my way." "Oh dear - didn't go down too well then?" I said, sympathising. "Oh no - it seemed to go down well enough," the guy continued, "But it was so full of innuendoes and double-meanings and stuff that we're all going to be remembered. Not for our acting but for what we did, said and for how we were dressed! Some of us will never live it down I'm afraid. Come here and I'll explain a bit more..." The guy at my side ushered me to a table where I put down my empty plate and where we both gathered fresh drinks; then we worked our way to a shop doorway where we could talk in relative peace. "The whole bloody play was about cross-dressing, really!" he said, shaking his head, "But since that there's a lot of that in theatre, we just kind of let it go and anyway, since the bloke who wrote the play has influence in high places, we more or less had to go along with the script, didn't we." He paused as some boisterous revellers interrupted him as they passed our quiet spot. "It was ok but quite honestly," he continued, "When you've got six blokes dressed as women and six women dressed as men even the actors got quite confused at times. And then some of the male characters were supposed to be really into the cross-dressing bit, as were some of the ladies." He paused to let the idea sink in, before he continued... "The rest were supposed to be just horsing around with their cross-dressing and stuff...but it all became a bit much for me; too confusing, to be honest." "Not surprising," I said, "Just as well you're all normal people; well, I guess you are anyway; you look normal." "Hah! You wouldn't have said that twenty minutes ago," he replied, "I grabbed a few moments to change and clean up; before that I was the town tart; tits and all!" I looked him up and down, wondering if he'd made a realistic tart but then he continued, with a silly apologetic smile on his face. "Anyway, and it seems to be caused by the play, this is where things get even more confusing," he said, "Because it would seem that at least a couple of our actors have really gone and got into their roles - I mean seriously into them." "What; they've started cross-dressing all the time?" I asked, somewhat curious, "Turned queer or something, eh?" "Yeah and it's not just the men; it's the women too!" he added conspiratorially, "I tell you, there's some unusual goings on around here these days." Then he happened to glance up and suddenly with a yell and a wave, he deserted me and trotted off to talk to someone else he'd spotted, leaving me to consider my interest in this matter; and I certainly was interested! Then I remembered that I was booked in at the hotel for two nights so I'd definitely have time to find out more, because somehow it all seemed to be quite intriguing... Rather cautiously I began edging down the line of the shops, keeping well clear of the main crowds, just people-watching in the main part, really just trying to spot the best bits of talent while I was at it. I could hardly miss one youngish woman with pillows of voluptuous breasts on show who looked to be a real bit of fun, until I noticed the way she walked and unless I was badly mistaken,'she' was definitely a bloke - damn it! Still, the prosthetic breasts really were eye-popping! But I did manage to clock at least two genuine females of the right proportions and age whom I might target later on but there were too many small whirlpools of interest so the girls might have to wait until tomorrow, if they were still around. And it was in one of those small whirlpools - an eddy of four people; that my interest settled. Two of the four were a man and a woman in their mid forties, possibly fifties at a guess while the other 'couple' were a very much younger pair, both very nicely dressed, still in costume I reckoned. The young girl's very pretty elfin looks certainly appealed to me and even the older woman was of some slight interest but quite honestly the one who held my attention the strongest was the young guy! I couldn't help it - somehow he had more sex-appeal than the rest put together; something about his eyes and lips, I thought, but then again even the way he stood made him deliciously alluring. I immediately decided that I ought to try to get to know them better so I sidled over until I was standing alongside their group, eavesdropping blatantly. It was actually the older guy who added me to their foursome. "Oh hello there," he said during a lull in their conversation, "Stranger in town are you - welcome if so!" "Thank you," I said, "Yes, I'm just here on business then off again; just came across your little party and got dragged in somehow! Not that I'm complaining, of course." "Consider yourself at home!" sang the older woman theatrically and slightly inebriatedly, "Consider yourself one of the family!" I smiled broadly and nodded my appreciation while giving the good-looking guy a decent once-over. Flawless skin, firm-looking musculature, slim figure, about five foot nine, warm dark eyes and a moustache, like me. He was wearing theatrical make-up; as was the younger woman, but only enough to add to both his and her allure in my opinion whereas the older couple were more heavily made up. "I guess you were all in the play?" I asked, looking around at the four of them, "So how was it?" The older two looked at each other and rolled their eyes. "Well, let's say it went down well enough but we definitely won't do it again," the older man said, repeating the comment I'd heard earlier and the woman agreed although she didn't look quite as aggrieved as the man did. But the younger woman shook her head. "It was fun!" she said in a remarkably low voice for a young woman, "Great fun - I'd love to play it again - shame it's ended." My eyes narrowed as I tried to work out what was out of place, if anything; then the younger man spoke as well. "Definitely fun; quite sexy really," he said lightly, "There's so much banter in the dialogue and all those lovely rude innuendoes - you had to have a broad mind but once you'd opened up then the fun just grew on you!" "Hmmmmph!" muttered the older man, "If there was a follow-up there'd be nude scenes and everything in it, you can bet. Not my cup of tea at all." The younger couple looked daggers at him as if he was something of a killjoy before the girl spoke. "And what's wrong with showing off your body?" she said, wriggling around in her costume, "Nothing like flashing a bit of flesh!" She was ragging the older man, that was obvious and a moment or two later he took the older woman's arm. "Oh look," he said archly, "There's Peter and Sally over there. Excuse us won't you." And with that they were off, leaving just the three of us to form a smaller whirlpool, one that I was quickly sinking into. The girl stuck her tongue out to the back of the departing couple before they both turned to me. "Sorry about that," she said, "He's a miserable old grump. And he thinks he can act - hah - load of rubbish; he's got no sense of timing at all." I chuckled, having known too many amateur actors who just couldn't get their timing right; their inability often spoiling the whole show. "Guess the show was for adults only by the sound of it?" I asked and the couple both nodded. "Yeah, and all of us had to be over eighteen too," said the elfin girl, "Which is why this is my first year doing the adult plays. I wanted to be in last year's end of season show but they wouldn't let me." It was at this point that I realised that my glass was empty and I waved it around to indicate that I wanted to replenish it, but the young man held my arm and took my glass from me. "Come back with us," he said, dumping my glass on a nearby table, "I live just around the corner and my friend and I were just going to adjourn for some peace and a drink or two before we met old misery-guts and his missus. Come on, let's go." And with that he steered me and the young lady around and we were off, soon turning the corner of the street and out of sight of the party. A few hundred yards on and he guided us to a doorway where he soon opened the door and we entered. A pretty home awaited my eyes, pale pinks and blues predominated and there was a chintzy look about the place that certainly didn't suit a young gentleman. "Welcome stranger," he said as he guided us to a large settee, "So let me introduce myself. I'm James and this lady is Sarah; we're just friends although we've been friends for several years now through the theatre." "And I live just across town," said Sarah, "I've got a little flat; suits me nicely even if it isn't as posh as this place!" "And I'm Chris," I replied, smiling, "And thank you for inviting me in and making me feel at home in this town. I'm staying at the Royal Hotel off South Street but this is so much nicer than being stuck in their lounge." "Hah - I worked there briefly when it first opened," said James, "Didn't stay long though." "What were you doing there?" I asked politely; merely to make conversation. "I was a cham...ah, I mean...I, erm...managed the chambermaids," he said, stumbling over his words and blushing hotly, an unmissable reaction that I ignored, for now. "Anyway, sorry, should have offered you a drink by now - so what'll you have?" James enquired, changing the subject. I opted for a soon proffered can of lager and the young lady did too while James decided on what I guessed was vodka and coke or something similar. And as James handed me the can I noticed a complete giveaway; his fingers were quite slim; he had pale pink nail varnish on and he also wore a floral style diamond ring... I suppose the varnish and the ring could have been put on for the play but I doubted it. My mind had already been working overtime and now these observations more or less put the seal on my findings, in my opinion. This was a definitely a woman playing a bloke's part...so perhaps the girl was a boy...hmmmmmm, interesting! I mulled over how to discuss the matter, feeling sure that there was an undercurrent of sexual excitement around; but it needed liberating. "So the play was, er, interesting, I gather?" I said as an opening gambit, "So what parts did you two play?" "I was the son of the Lord of the Manor," said James, putting on his stage voice, "Something of a rake and lothario." "And I was one of his love interests," Sarah simpered, "Or that's what you were led to believe, but actually James in the play was more interested in the men!" "And fortunately I, as James, could see through Sarah's disguise though," added James, "So my character was chatting up a girl, who was being played by a boy who was the person my character really fancied." "Aaaaah!" I exclaimed, partially in surprise and partially because I'd obviously guessed right, "So that complicated things, I bet." "That's not half of it," chuckled Sarah, "As we said, I played a girl and the reason I was in disguise because I was hiding from an old bastard whose only interest it seemed was to have his wicked way with me. And in the play he also spends his time dressed as a woman!" "Oh God!" I exclaimed, my mind now coming alight, "So did he fancy you as a girl or as a boy - in the play, that is?" "As a boy," Sarah said, "He's a dirty old man in the play; well, he's not that old; he's only about 40 - so I wouldn't have minded, in real life that is!" "Ahhhhh!!?" I exclaimed as Sarah had got one step ahead of me, "So you'd have let him have his wicked way with you and you're a bloke..." "Damn - you found out!" said Sarah laughing happily, "Of course I am; and yes, I'd have loved it!" "So you're gay then," I asked and Sarah clunked cans with me to confirm my findings. "You said he's old though," I said, but Sarah was still smiling. "I like them that much older," she said with a twinkle in her eyes, "I'm almost nineteen and I like people older than me. I've always wanted a sugar- daddy! When I find someone, that is." I looked at James with renewed interest and he'd got an enigmatic smile on his face, confirming to me that he too was hiding a secret. "So what about you then?" I asked, "You play a man who prefers the men in the play; but what about in real life?" "Hmmmm," he said, deep in thought, "I didn't expect things to unfold so readily like this but since we're obviously being very candid, yes, I do like men, but I can go both ways actually." "So you're bisexual then?" I asked and James confirmed it by nodding his head. "Very," he added with a big grin, "But I'm teasing you because as you probably guessed, I'm a woman but I'm definitely very bi." "Welllllll!" I exclaimed, my eyes roving from one person to the other and back, "That's interesting - very interesting. I never expected to come across such intrigue outside an actual theatre!" They laughed and then James spoke again. "So what about you then - are you a normal red-blooded male?" he asked; the tip of his tongue licking around his painted lips. By now, the penis of this red-blooded male was throbbing with excitement but I tried to ignore his pleading and pestering while I formed a suitable reply. "Ummm, yeah I'm very normal as you put it. I'm always horny, if that's what you mean," I replied, my mind carefully selecting my words, "But I'm very open to ideas - ummm - and I guess I have to admit to being a bit bi myself." I saw James and Sarah's eyes meet and seemingly flash as I spoke those words but I hadn't frightened them off, thank heavens and then James looked at Sarah and then at me. "Hmmm, I wonder where we'll go from here?" he said as he stood up, "But I know where we need to go first; Sarah - you and I ought to get rid of all this gunge; I'm getting fed up with the smell of the make-up. Come on, up you come. You Chris, you stay there." Obediently I remained seated as the two trouped off down the hall and then I sat quietly listening to the small sounds coming from the bedroom and by straining my ears and then by getting up and edging a little closer I heard some of the conversation... "Yeah - be fun, wouldn't it!" said a girl's voice, "he's rather nice." "Won't say no if he's up for it," came a young man's voice. My ears, heart and cock all perked up as I hoped for more snippets...then a sucked-in breath... "Ahhhhgh shit - they're bloody tight!" a young man's voice said, "These knickers; they're starting to squash me..." "Shouldn't have let him get hard then!" the girl said with a chuckle, "Know how you feel though; its so nice to let my boobs loose at last." "Couldn't help it," the male voice replied, "And put your tits away; I may prefer men but they're not helping at all!" I could imagine the lad pushing his stiffening penis down inside his girly knickers and the girl shaking and rubbing her unfettered breasts to ease the pressure of the past few hours, allowing her breasts to stand proudly as they should; but then I quickly regained my seat since they seemed now to be finishing their clean-up. And soon they returned, still causing me to shake my head in confusion. Because now there was a beautiful lady, still dressed in gentleman's clothes but now without the confusing moustache but instead complete with generous breasts topped with equally generously protruding nipples. She'd taken her men's jacket off and now there was only a shirt between my eyes and her breasts. And beside her was a young man, still dressed theatrically in his blouse, flared skirt and tights or stockings but somehow only a bit less feminine. Ah - he's got no make-up on, I realised, although the woman now wore some softer and more alluring lipstick and a bit of eye shadow. "Wow, you two look really nice!" I exclaimed, "Better than the originals, in fact. Makes me wish I could change into something else too!" "No - you look fine as you are Chris. Look - we'd better start again," said James, laughing, "So let me introduce the real 'us'. I'm actually Paula and this young gentleman is Sam." "Very pleased to meet you both properly," I replied, keeping in style, although my eyes just couldn't help falling to Paula's generous frontage...and she saw my gaze. To my surprise she shook her shirt-covered breasts, which swayed alarmingly, then cupped them and ran her hands over them, causing an immediate reaction to her nipples and inside my pants. "Feels so much better to let 'em loose," she said, winking at me, "So, are you just here for the beer or are you here to join in?" "Wow!" I said, happily shocked, "Seriously?" "Well, that damn play got us all worked up; I've been horny since Act One at the beginning of the week, I reckon," said Paula, "Affected us all, hasn't it Sam? And we've just got to do something about it, haven't we?" "Bloody right and it definitely affects me seriously!" said Sam, his hand cupping his groin, "So what about you Chris, are you going to help us out?" "I'll try, I told you I'm always horny," I replied as I leered once more at Paula's frontage, "And with all this in front of me, how else could I feel?" I turned my smile to Sam and my glance took in a long ridge that seemed to suddenly appear over his thigh; there was no denying that he was up for it too! But at that very moment Sam moaned and put his hand over his bulge. "Ahhhhhhgggghhh, the damn thing's escaped," he moaned, causing me to look at his groin again. "I've got girls' knickers on and they were so tight - but he's escaped, the bastard!" he said, grimacing, "But now the leg elastic is cutting in - I'm going to have to take them off." But Paula now advanced on him waving a pair of scissors she'd found from somewhere nearby and as Sam stood up to run away she stopped him. "Not going to do anything drastic! Don't take them off; lets just cut the elastic; you'll look and feel better that way," she said and very quickly she reached for his skirt. "No - no," groaned Sam, "Not here!" "Why ever not?" Paula replied, "No need to be shy!" Seconds later she'd flipped his skirt up and held it out of the way and suddenly there before us was a good five or perhaps six inches of a solid erection sticking out from the leg of a pair of frilly floral knickers; his foreskin pulled hard back! "Hey Chris - he looks quite edible!" said Paula, copping a good look, "We ought to leave him like that!" But a few moments later she'd cut the leg elastic and Sam quickly tucked his freed erection back into his knickers, although they didn't do much of a job of hiding anything and as he stood there Paula spoke up. "He looks quite sweet, doesn't he?" said Paula, "Come on, do a twirl for us," and Sam quickly pirouetted. "No - hold your skirt up when you turn round," Paula insisted so Sam did so properly this time and then did the same again but much slower. His erection showed up clearly now, the tip now almost at his waistband, his balls pulled tight up against his body. His arse was basically cute, or at least I couldn't find a better word to describe it. His backside was tight, neat and yeah, cute in his pretty knickers and I really wasn't sure whether or not to feel turned on. But my cock had no compunctions; he just saw something that looked eminently fuckable and he was positively quivering with suppressed desire until I was brought back to earth. "Did you like that?" asked Sam and I couldn't help but nod my head as he walked towards me, stopping less than an arm's length away. "Do you want to have a feel then?" he asked seductively and I felt my hands almost automatically lift up until they landed on his hips. "Yesssss - come on then, feel me!" he hissed, "Everywhere!" Slowly I let my hands slide over his hips and down to his slender thighs below his skirt. I felt the musculature of his legs; my hands moving round to the backs under his skirt and then upwards until I was cupping his sweet little arse. I felt the very slight change in the firmness of the muscles as I ran my hands from his thighs to his buttocks, pulling them slightly apart, squeezing and palpating his flesh as I did so and bringing forth moans of pleasure. Ever more slowly I slid my fingers under his knickers and into his cleft and allowed them to drift softly over his arsehole, which I gently pressed as I passed by; then down between his legs until I felt the back of his balls. Sam's whole body had tensed up as I delved into his intimate parts but he seemed to be enjoying it all thoroughly. "Oooooooh yesssss," he breathed, "And the front, don't forget the front!" How could I forget the front when it was right there before me! Under his skirt I guessed that his stiff penis still strained at the waistband and his balls were still tightly held against his body, but it was all hidden from view. Then Sam lifted his skirt up and held it out of the way, his hips now pushing his penis forward, his body eager to be explored further. I smiled happily as I brought my hands around his hips once more and now advanced on his penis. With a feather-touch I slid my fingers across his twitching abdomen, feeling the firm muscles of his groin inside the floral knickers; feeling the slight roughness of the stubble of his shaven pubic hair, before I finally touched his erection. "Ahhhhhhh!" he sighed, his voice itself quivering, "Oh yesssss, don't stop!" I could feel his penis throbbing under my touch as I smoothed my fingers up the length of his shaft but out of devilment I left his knob alone for now, returning instead to gently squeeze and mould his balls. "What do you want me to do?" I asked softly, "Do you want me to carry on?" "Oh God yes, yes," moaned Sam, "Please don't stop! Touch me, touch me!" Paula had moved closer now and deftly she reached out and removed Sam's skirt, leaving him standing there dressed just in a thin blouse which hung to just below his waist; a pair of very delectable knickers, a pair of hold-up stockings that encased his shapely legs and a pair of low-heel shoes. He still looked quite feminine except for the eager erection that clearly signalled his maleness. "Come on, come on, touch me Chris - hurry up," moaned Sam, "I'll have to do it myself if you don't!" "Oooooh, who's horny then?" I teased and I saw Paula's hand move down over Sam's behind and I guessed that she was exploring his arsehole as well. "Shall we take his knickers off?" I asked Paula and she nodded, as did Sam. I moved my hands away from his balls and placed them on his hips, hitching my finger tips inside his waistband. Gently I began the removal of his pretty knickers, pulling the elastic away from his very hard penis and sliding them down and down until they were around his legs. A quick shuffle and they slid to the ground on the smooth material of his stockings. "That's better," said Paula, "Doesn't he look lovely?" I looked Sam up and down, seeing his face reddened, probably with excitement as much as with embarrassment; seeing his pale lilac blouse; his straining penis and his sleek legs. "Shouldn't he take his blouse off too?" I asked Paula and she agreed - but Sam had other ideas. "No - no, not the blouse, please no," he moaned, but Paula held his arms and looked at him seriously. "Do you want me to strip; do you want me to join you?" she asked, looking straight at Sam and Sam nodded quickly. "Well, it's you first, then I'll follow, ok?" she said and with that she quickly unbuttoned his blouse and with my help we had it off Sam in a moment or two. His arms immediately crossed and covered his chest. "What's up, you're not shy are you?" I asked, "Come on, let's see all of you." "Come on," said Paula more firmly, "Let's see your nice hairy chest!" Sam's hands fell to his sides in defeat and both Paula and I were suddenly open-mouthed in astonishment, because before us was not a hairy expanse of masculinity but a smooth chest and a pair of small but very real breasts! Perhaps each of them was a bit smaller than half a lemon in size and shape, with little pink nipples and just like the rest of him, they were so very, very cute. "Wow!" both Paula and I exclaimed while Sam just looked sheepish. "I'm taking hormones," he said simply, "I'm going to become a girl." I was almost speechless - what the heck had I uncovered when I dropped into that street party? But while I might have been rendered mute, my cock had other ideas and was obviously very much appreciating what was before him. He was straining and jerking in the confines of my trousers in a manner that could only be relieved by a good orgasm. The question was - where could I cum? And more than that, where should I continue? Two suckable little breasts or a thrusting, urgent, equally suckable six inch uncut penis. Or should I make my approach from behind? Or what about Paula, should I fuck her instead? So many options! "You're gorgeous!" said Paula, making my mind up for me as her hands closed over Sam's breasts, her fingers already tweaking her small nipples, "I never knew...!" "So what's with the sex change idea?" I asked as Paula continued to explore Sam's breasts. "I was always small for my age and kids at school used to say I looked like a girl and...it just grew from there," said Sam, his eyes closing from time to time as Paula enjoyed his newly-discovered breasts, "I could get into my sister's clothes quite easily and before I knew it I felt more like a girl than a boy." "So when you left school that's when you could do your own thing, so to speak," I continued and Sam nodded. "Yeah, but I've wanted to be a girl for ages and it was only when I saw a therapist that I found I could get what they call gender reassignment surgery and treatment, so I went for it," he concluded. "Well, your face certainly looks very girlish already," I said, "Sweet and playful and your shape suits a girl too." "Oh I'm definitely playful," giggled Sam, "All over!" "Have you had sex with a man yet?" I asked and Sam shook his head. "Not properly, not with anybody yet; just played around a bit," he said, "But I'm hoping you might be the man to help me. You will, won't you?" Instead of replying I zeroed in on his over-excited penis leaving him to enjoy Paula's mouth working on his budding breasts and I heard Sam gasp as I took his rod in my hand for the first time. "Don't tease me," he whimpered, "I want to cum so badly!" I got off the settee and knelt on the floor at Sam's feet and just seconds later his hot penis was sliding between my lips. "Ohhhhhh, yesssss please," he moaned, his hips pushing his cock at me, "Suck me, suck me!" His cock tasted wonderful; hot yet clean; steamy from his enforced time in those tight knickers but full of freshness; the freshness of newly oozed precum. Busily I sucked at his penis, enjoying the way I could slide my tongue under his foreskin and around the ridge of his knob; enjoying the smoothness of his shaft as it slid between my lips and loving the way his penis seemed to be straining to unload. I knew I'd better bring him off soon or he'd be having a very messy accident! I pulled my mouth from his penis and looked up, only to see Sam and Paula lip- locked above me; there was no sense in thinking of asking him if he wanted me to continue! I returned his cock to my mouth, my hand now working on his shaft in time with my tongue on his knob, working together to bring him to a climax; a climax which I knew wasn't all that far away. Regular pulses of precum now bathed my tongue while irregular jerks and thrusts signalled that his body was almost out of control - a little more stimulation and the flood gates would open - wide! I worked faster on his shaft and applied more suction to his knob; my tongue trying to insinuate itself into the little hole at the tip, out of which would soon, hopefully, come a flood of tasty spunk. Sam was breathing faster and his whole body was quivering; Paula was now sucking one of his breasts and I was getting ready to receive Sam's offering. And feeling Sam losing control, with a sudden flurry of activity I tossed him over the brink; his orgasm hitting him like a ton of bricks! "Oh God - Oh! Oh! Ohh, ohh, ohh - fuck - yessssss!" he cried and his penis thrust deep into my mouth as his orgasm peaked. A big warm sticky splash filled the back of my mouth; there was a few seconds wait and then another spray of cum joined it. I swallowed quickly, in time to receive a third and a fourth eruption of warm, slippery spunk, which I held in my mouth. "Oh fuck - I needed that!" groaned Sam, his cock still pulsating and leaking gently, "Thank you Chris - you were good, really fucking good! I slowly pulled his penis from my mouth and looked up at him. Then I opened my mouth to show him the contents before I swallowed my second load, this time being able to enjoy the youthful taste and the texture as it slid down my throat. I returned to his cock, pushing his foreskin back as far as it would go, bringing out another small dribble of cum. I licked it from his knob and spread it around my mouth with my tongue; it felt so erotic and licentious; so exciting and arousing. "That was lovely," I said, "Ages

since I had a nice mouthful like that." "Am I going to get a mouthful too?" asked Paula from above me and I stood up. And there before me were her wonderful breasts; stripped of all encumbrance and standing proudly from her chest; they were magnificent! She'd got some inspirational nipples; large and ripe without being overblown; pointing outwards from her firm, plump breasts and just made for sucking and chewing and squeezing. I was all ready to begin my assault on them when I felt my trousers being undone and my attention moved downwards by some degrees to where Sam, who was now on his knees was at work. "I want your cock!" said Sam as he attacked my trousers, "I need you!" "Hey, I was here first!" said Paula, "He's mine!" Paula quickly got down to join Sam and the pair of them began to divest me of my clothes; they took only a few moments to get my trousers and underwear off; then my shirt too until I stood there in just my shoes and socks. But they were of no concern; that was somewhat higher up my body where my eight inch erection now stood proudly from my trimmed forest; my foreskin peeled back, my knob shiny from my precum; my balls hanging loose and ready for action. "He's nice!" said Paula, wetting her lips hungrily, "I'm definitely going to have him first!" Seemingly ignoring any reply from Sam she dived straight in, her hand immediately closing around my shaft as her lips closed around my knob and I sucked in a big breath as she began to stimulate me. She felt so good on me; her lips were tight and her tongue very busy, stirring up my fire; creating sparks and flames that shot through me, igniting waves of excitement everywhere. Her head was moving back and forwards and there was a steady succession of sucking sounds emanating from down there somewhere. Her wild auburn locks hid everything she was doing from my view; all I could see was Sam as he manipulated his renewed erection while he watched impatiently. "Oh wow, yeahhhhh," I moaned as Paula found a sensitive bit on the underside of my crown, "Ooooh yesssss!" "Let me - let me!" Sam cried, "I want him now!" And with that there was a brief break in the action and then a new even tighter and hotter mouth wrapped itself around my cock; one that immediately began to work hard on me, bringing me at once close to an eruption. "Careful - I'm getting near," I said to no avail; the mouth continuing to work hard, accompanied now by his hand sliding quickly up and down my shaft. "Ohhhhhh nearly," I moaned, my hips jerking, "Won't be long - won't be long!" With that there was some pushing and shoving down below and then I felt Paula's mouth on me once more; this time with even more vigour and enthusiasm. It took me a few moments to get back up to speed but soon I was on the brink once more. "I'm going to cum Paula," I said through clenched teeth, "It's coming...almost there!" Paula sucked even harder and then, with one last uncontrollable thrusting of my hips I let loose; gush after gush of my cum flooding into her mouth. I heard Paula swallow and cough before another gusher shut her up. A final squirt and I was able to rest my hands on her head to indicate that I'd shot my bolt. "Wow, you're super!" I said, panting heavily, "That might be one of the best blow jobs I've had - perhaps ever had." I let my fingers wander through her lustrous locks and down the back of her neck before she stood up and faced me, my hands falling to her waist. Her face glowed with satisfaction and gleamed with errant splashes of precum and spunk; there was even a small blob on her cheek which I collected and placed between her lips. And as her lips accepted the token I just had to kiss her; my lips reaching hers just after she'd imbibed the blob, in time to taste the wild flavour. For a few minutes our lips locked together, our tongues busily exploring our mouths; our lips sliding erotically around as we enjoyed our intimate moment, then we returned to the real world. Sam was looking a little crestfallen but Paula was all smiles now; the cat had got her cream and she was positively purring... But she wasn't entirely satisfied yet. "What about me?" she asked, "I haven't come yet - who's going to have me?" "You have her Chris," said Sam generously, "I want to watch. And I'll get you ready for the next round!" With that Sam grasped my somewhat flaccid penis and with a combination of lips, tongue and fingers he soon brought him to life again, although there was little hope that I'd be able to erupt again for some time. 'Never mind,' I thought, 'If I don't come too quickly, I'll be able to give her a decent fucking.' Finesse had long since departed as Paula now began divesting herself of her squire's son's outfit; her clothes flying to the four corners of the room in her haste to get undressed; until as she began to pull her drawers down, she turned and leaned over the big armchair; her delicious-looking arse now winking at me. "Wrong week," she said, her drawers now at her knees, "But I'll come if you fuck me up the arse anyway." I turned to get into position, not objecting one little bit to fucking her bum rather than her pussy but I hesitated and Paula knew immediately what the problem was. "Sam - in the bathroom, over there; there's a tube of KY by the window. Be a darling and fetch it please," she said and Sam was up and across the room immediately, his erection swinging around as he moved. Moments later and the tube was in my hand, being squeezed to produce a generous dollop which I spread over my penis. Another blob was applied to Paula's arsehole and appreciating the need for her to be primed for a penile insertion, I pushed one finger gently at her small brown hole, until it slid inside. Paula breathed a small sigh as I penetrated her; then made slightly louder sighs as I added a second finger and then a third. "Come on then, don't wait now, I think I'm ready," she said and I leaned forward, wiping my slippery fingers on a towel that Sam had also brought from the bathroom. My penis was at absolutely the right height for insertion; the slight upward angle of my erection adding to the perfection of our forthcoming fuck and I just shuffled forward a little more until my cock was touching her hole. "Ready?" I asked and Paula hummed her assent. "Ok, I'm coming in!" I said softly, "Here it comes." With that I closed the gap and my knob began to disappear; quickly at first and then it was held in place by her sphincter muscles, before they relaxed and my knob and an inch or so of my cock disappeared inside her. Paula let out another little sigh of contentment and I felt her hole squeeze me and her hips flex to encourage me, so I pushed further forward until I was embedded right to the root; until I could go no deeper. I held my penis there, enjoying the deep warmth and comfort, enjoying the spasms of her muscles around my shaft, enjoying the feel of her soft smooth buttocks against my thighs. "You ok? You took me so easily," I said as I began to move in and out slowly and Paula again hummed her reply. "Mmmmm, it felt lovely, you sliding in like that," she said, "You're not the first cock I've had up there, that's why it was so easy; I love being taken up my arse." Gradually I allowed my speed to increase, while changing my thrusts from deep to shallow; from one angle to another and then from fast to slow, trying to reach all the pleasure points that might be up inside her. Paula was moaning and groaning as I stimulated her and her hips kept thrusting back at me; she was really getting into this, especially when I changed my approach and my cock rubbed against some firmer flesh inside her rectum. I guessed I'd found her G-spot, so I continued working my cock against the aroused tissue. "Oooooh fuck that's so good," moaned Paula, "You're going to make me cum - I'm getting so close..." And so was I - even having come off just a few minutes ago and despite thinking that I'd last for a while I could once again feel things rising but there was no way I was going to ease up now. And my arousal was enhanced as I looked aside and saw Sam working hard on his own penis just a few feet from us. "Suck him Paula, suck him," I suggested, "Another mouthful for you." Paula now also became aware of Sam's penis and she reached round to pull him towards her, each of us swivelling and shuffling around so she could get his cock into her mouth. Paula was now just bent over doggy-style with no chair under her body so I reached for her now free-hanging breasts with both hands. Ooooh - what a lovely feeling! My two hands completely filled with heavy, warm, firm, pliable, sexy breasts; breasts whose nipples seemed to bore holes in my palms until I captured them in my fingers. Paula groaned loudly as I held her nipples and moaned even louder as I gently twisted them between my fingers and thumbs. But down below I was still busy, my penis was still pushing in and pulling out of her hole while her muscles continued to squeeze me to help me to unload. We were all getting quite excited by now; both Paula and I were sweating and panting; her body was jerking puppet-like from time to time; her muscles spasming around me. My penis was as hard as he'd ever been as he readied himself to paint her insides and even Sam was now getting close; his eyes had shut although his mouth had opened - there was going to be a huge group orgasm any time soon! To bring Paula over the brink I dropped one hand and quickly reaching around her hip I felt for her clit - and found my hand instead on a large, very hard and very slippery penis! "You've got a bloody cock!" I cried in excitement, "I love it - you've got a cock!" "What?" yelled Sam, "Oh my God - she has, she has!" Her penis felt incredibly exciting to hold; such an unexpected find that I couldn't help but masturbate her slippery, throbbing penis rapidly. "Oh you bastard!" groaned Paula, "You weren't supposed to know! Oh God - oh God - I'm cumming! You're making me cum!" She knelt almost upright, nearly dislodging me from her anus before I managed to pull her closer to me but my other hand was even busier as I wanked her lovely penis to orgasm. With a loud moan from Paula, a long stream of white cum burst from her cock, spraying up Sam's chest; a second streamer coated his cock and splashed onto his pubes. I rubbed Paula's penis faster and another two quick squirts sprayed over Sam's chest and breasts again. Some small dribbles of sticky cum coated my fist as she came down from her climax but Sam and I were yet to cum! "Hold still Paula," I cried, my cock driving quickly in and out of her hole, "Going to fill you up - it's coming, coming!" And in front of me Sam pulled Paula's head back to his stiff cum-coated penis, Paula's mouth engulfing him immediately. "Ohhhhh God Paula, that's so nice, don't stop, please don't stop!" cried Sam, his small hips almost vibrating as he thrust his cock into her mouth. For a few moments there was almost silence, broken only by the slap of bodies meeting and the slurping of Paula's wet mouth but the silence wasn't going to last long. "Oh yeah...that's it!" I moaned as Paula's anal ring squeezed tight around my penetrating penis, "I'm cumming - yessss, cummmmmming...right now!" "Let it go!" said Sam, "Fill her up - I'm going to fill her other end too!" "Uuuuughhhh! Uuuuughhhh! Ohhhh fuck!" I groaned as spasm after spasm shook me; each spasm powering another load of my hot cum into her rectum, "Ooooh Christ, that's good!" Sam, now caught up in my orgasm was letting loose too. "Take it Paula - suck me off - swallow it all," he cried, "Yessss, yessss, ohhh yessss!" I'd almost collapsed onto Paula's back, held up only by one hand on the armchair seat beside us; the other hand still around Paula's sizeable penis as I breathed heavily and regained my senses. I'd just sucked off a bloke who had breasts; then fucked a woman who had a cock! What the hell...? But who was I to complain - as I said in my preamble, I just love sex and I don't care who with - and this was sex in the raw and it felt wonderful! Eventually I lifted myself off Paula's back and Sam, understanding, threw me the towel which I clamped over Paula's arsehole as I slid my penis from her body. Paula's hand came and held it in place as I moved away, my other hand now leaving her penis to relax. I looked at my hand; it was just covered in blobs and streaks of her cum - too much to waste and too good as well, no doubt. I brought my hand to my mouth and sucked and licked all her juices from my hand, loving the salty taste and the erotic texture. Her offerings weren't enough to fill my mouth but they left my mouth feeling so gorgeously slippery and slimy after I'd finished. And gradually we all recovered into relaxed positions; Paula back into her chair and Sam and I back onto the settee - all of us still breathing faster than normal but all of us smiling happily at each other while Sam wiped himself down with the towel. I just didn't know what to say - I was gobsmacked by the assorted turns of events that had taken place over the past hour or so, but fortunately Paula broke the ice. "Sorry you had to find out that way," she said, her face downturned, "I wanted to tell you but I was scared..." "Don't be stupid," I said, "You wouldn't have scared me off, that's for sure! Come on, buck up." "Nor me! I wouldn't have been scared if I'd known," said Sam, "That's incredible - you having a cock too; I'd never have thought it." Paula looked somewhat happier now, so much so that I could have sworn that I saw her penis lift a bit as if looking for some more action... "Let me get some more drinks," said Paula, rising from her chair, "I'm parched and if I'm going to tell you my story then I'll need a drink anyway." She headed off to the kitchen, her feminine hips swaying wonderfully and her thighs now traced with wet runnels of my leaking cum; soon to return with two cans and another vodka and something. "Cheers," she said as she handed out our cans; wiped her thighs with the towel, folded it and sat down on it once more, "That's better!" We raised our cans as well, everyone now more relaxed in mind as well as body and for a little while we just drank, replenishing our lost body fluids. "I was going to tell you," said Paula, "I started turning into a woman ages ago, it seems, so I'm probably the best part of ten years or so ahead of you, Sam. I always knew I was a woman when I was in my teens - I always wanted breasts and make-up and pretty clothes and stuff but it wasn't until I left home when I was nineteen like you Sam that I could start on the journey to becoming a woman." She took a long swig from her drink to finish it; got up, dashed into the kitchen and soon returned with a replenished glass. "So I got some advice and started taking hormones like you and some, what, ten years down the line and here I am," she said, "So what do you think of me?" "Well I think you are gorgeous," I said, "Absolutely gorgeous!" "What are you going to do next Paula," Sam asked, "Are you going for the full works; going to have your cock chopped off and all that?" "You're joking!" she said, "I'm going to stay this way! I have too much fun with him!" And with that she stood up; her hand fell to her cock and with a few strokes it was standing proudly upwards, ready for action once again! "So what about you Sam, where are you heading?" asked Paula, "You keeping going to keep all your bits?" "No," replied Sam, blushing, "I've only just started my treatment but I've already spoken to a specialist and they'll make a vagina for me. It'll be a few years yet, but it's all planned and I can't wait!" "You've really got a nice slim body, haven't you," I added, "You'll make a good model, what with your elfin looks and your little arse - just what they seem to go for." I looked back to Paula and quickly added... "Not that your more voluptuous figure isn't bloody lovely," I said, quickly covering all angles, "Personally I prefer some nice curves and a decent handful; but you're both just so lovely. You'd be even nicer if you had a pussy too, Paula!" "What, aren't I enough for you?" she replied, smiling broadly, "Aren't my big tits and my nice cock and my tight arse enough for you?" She stood up and shook her hips and tits at me, her newly risen erection also swaying as she moved and I nearly jumped on her there and then! I looked back and forward from one to the other. "Honestly I don't know which I prefer," I said, "You're both so...so, sexy; so desirable; makes me wish I could be in two places at once!" "You could always start here," said Sam as he held out his own erection, "Come and suck me off again - you did such a good job last time." I drained my can and stood up; my penis too was all ready for another round of action. "Excuse me Paula," I said, giving Paula's breasts a quick feel as I moved past her, "Can't refuse a cry for help, can I!" Quickly I sank to my knees before Sam who edged his arse to the front of the settee so his cock was more completely accessible and a few moments later his knob was between my lips once more. Already there was the subtle taste of precum; a vague flavour more akin to an imagined taste rather than anything physical. But I knew that there was a physical presence; the slipperiness of his precum coated my tongue and lips attested to that - he was primed and ready to go. Sam's cock, being some six inches long, I guessed, fitted into my throat quite easily; it was only when he thrust hard that he tested my gag reflexes but otherwise I was able to surround his entire penis with my mouth and lips. He was a very comfortable size to suck - and if the last time had been anything to go by, he was also a very rewarding suck! And now I had his cock settled in my mouth I remembered to raise my hands to reach his cute little jutting breasts; his firmly bulging breasts with his small hard nipples...they felt so completely different to Paula's generous mammaries in my hands. I was just getting into my stride when I felt hands on my back - it was Paula who had come over to join us and I smiled inside, pleased that she wasn't going to be left out. I heard her kissing Sam; their mouths sucking and smooching at each other playfully before she knelt down beside me. And I was about to raise my head and offer Sam's cock to her when I felt Paula's hand exploring my arse; running from my waist downwards over my buttock; then underneath and returning up the cleft of my arse until she found my arsehole. I found myself sucking in a breath quickly as a fingertip stabbed inside me; then she was gone. And then Paula was back, this time with her head right beside mine, her arm draped around me. "I'm going to fuck you Chris," she said softly into my ear, "You'll like that, won't you?" "Mmmmmm," I moaned, my arse unconsciously squirming as she touched me. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to have a cock up my arsehole; some five years or more had passed since I was last anally penetrated and the idea of being fucked by someone as lovely as Paula had got me all excited and eager. "Where's that lube?" asked Paula, "Ah, got it. Hang on Chris, just coming." A few moments later and I felt her fingers touch me again, this time slithering around on a bed of gel as she centred on my hole. Her fingertip moved slowly around my wrinkled flesh, just pressing slightly until she found my core, then suddenly she speared me with her finger, straight in almost up to the knuckle! "Aaaaaaggghhhhh!" I cried as the shock pierced me, bringing a sudden flush of sweat to my brow, "Fuck - might have let me know you were going to do that!" "Why - did that hurt?" she asked playfully, "Just wait til I put my cock in you then!" "Bitch!" I moaned, my arsehole still trembling from her finger, "I'm ready for you now, but take it easy with that big hard-on of yours." "Wouldn't be nasty, would I?" she said seductively, "Not after you were so nice to me!" To take my mind off the forthcoming pain, I sucked Sam's cock back into my mouth but despite that I was able to feel every slight movement as Paula moved her penis up against my skin. I slowed my actions as I awaited the insertion of her cock and soon enough I felt pressure at my anus as her blunt end pushed against my small hole. Eager to accommodate her I pushed outwards and it must have done the trick because immediately I felt her penis penetrate, the ridge around her knob sliding through my anal ring almost without pain at all. "Ooooh that's lovely," I moaned around the slight pain, my cry echoed by Paula from above me. I wriggled my hips to encourage her to push deeper into me; I was loving every inch of her cock; it filled me so comfortably and smoothly now. Paula leaned her body closer and I felt her cock sliding into my depths, her full seven inches now buried inside me, her fuzzy pubes now crumpled against my buttocks. She held the pose; both of us enjoying the very close and very intimate feelings - before she started to move her penis in and out, slowly, steadily and smoothly. It was a languid action, a controlled sliding that carried such sensuous feelings with it that we both found ourselves quivering with excitement. And then gradually need overcame control and Paula began to move her cock much more energetically, almost violently banging her penis into me with each thrust; her thighs slapping against my buttocks, her balls bouncing against mine with each needful hump of her hips. I was still managing to keep an interest going on Sam's cock but most of my attention was now down lower where I was finding myself pumping my hole back at Paula - thrust for thrust we each strove to accommodate her energetic penis; breath after breath we fucked each other hard, Paula's hands now gripping my waist firmly. Soon we were both sweating profusely; panting quickly; quivering and jerking throughout - the pressure in Paula's powerful penis was building; it was soon going to fill my bowels with its contents; its lovely hot outflow of sperm! And now, as we approached the final stretch our actions were becoming less controlled and more spasmodic as unexpected jerks and shocks of Paula's orgasm made its presence known. "Won't be long," she moaned from above me, "I'm getting there - going to fill you up in a minute." "Yes Paula - do it - come on, fuck me, fill me!" I groaned, tightening my arsehole around her cock as best I could, "I'm ready for you!" "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she grunted as she powered her penis into me for one last effort, "Yessssss - cummmmming!" "Oooooooohhhh!" I cried as I felt her cock push deep into me and then pulsate as it spread warmth all around inside me, "Oooooohhh, more, give me more!" "Yeahhhhhhhh!" groaned Paula as she drove her cock back deeply and sprayed another load into my bowels, "Ohhhh fuckkkkkk, lovely, feels lovely!" I felt another squirt erupt before Paula's penis became quiescent except for minor jerking as her orgasm unwound and she collapsed onto my back, her warm damp breasts now squashed and plastered over my back. "Phewwwww!" I said, "You certainly know how to fuck! That was a good one!" "Damn well was, wasn't it!" she replied, "Really got into that one - thanks Chris, you felt good too!" "What about me?" asked a somewhat lonely Sam who was still sitting there with a solid erection and I put my hand over my mouth. "Oh fuck - sorry Sam - got a bit otherwise occupied there," I said, "Do you want me to carry on?" "No," said Sam, "I want to fuck you now - I've never fucked a man and you're already all wet and slippery so it'll be easy..." "Yeah, why not?" I replied, "So long as Paula doesn't mind." "Why should I? Hang on then, I'll move," said Paula and soon I felt her penis sliding gently from my hole, leaving a void that seemed to be desperate to be filled again. My rectum seemed to be squeezing as if trying to suck anything inside; to refill the hole and to continue where Paula's penis had left off and it wasn't to be unfulfilled for long! Sam was up and round behind me in a flash, his penis already drooling precum as he moved and it took but a short time before he was kneeling behind me where Paula had been, his penis already pressing against my body. "Won't need any lube," he said, "Loads of lovely sexy cream to slide on." "Dirty bugger - get on with it!" said Paula, chuckling, as she came and sat beside me. "Just getting ready," said Sam who seemed to be hesitating somewhat. Ah - his first fuck - no wonder he was perhaps a bit scared - and Paula understood too. She was up off the settee in moments and was soon behind me too. "Ooooh God, that's nice," I heard Sam moan. "I'm just guiding you," said Paula, "Concentrate on his hole." She'd obviously got a good hold on his cock and I soon felt the end sliding into my welcoming hole; my already stretched, lubed and ready hole. "Ok, now just push steadily," Paula said and I felt Sam's penis sliding into my anus. "Ohhhhhh," groaned Sam as he felt my hole accept and absorb his cock. "Yesssss," I groaned as I enjoyed the pleasure of a second cock inside my arse. "Ooooohh, that looks gooooood, makes me feel all hot," said Paula, "Keep pushing, all the way!" I felt Sam's penis slither deeper into me, lubricated by Paula's cummy deposits, then he began to move his cock around, in and out. "That's it, take it easy to start," said Paula, "Let the feelings come to you; his hole will start to squeeze your cock and you'll soon find things start to get exciting." I knew what she meant; and after I'd become used to the invasion of this second column of penile flesh I began to work my hole; squeezing and sucking at his cock with my muscles as my body strove to extract his stock of spunk. My hips began to squirm and thrust back at him, all without conscious thoughts impeding my body's reactions; my hole wanted his offering, his spunk, and was doing all it could to encourage his penis to unload. Sam was now starting to get worked up; his hips were thrusting faster and harder now; his first ever male fuck was hardly likely to last all that long but so long as he enjoyed it to the full then so what. Let him cum!! "Yeah, yeah, yeahhhhh," moaned Sam as his thighs slammed into my buttocks, "Feels good, getting better, getting nearer...oh fuck, yeahhhh! He was panting hard now as he neared his climax and even I was getting well into it. My own cock was hard and throbbing and I was in two minds whether or not to take him in hand but I resisted - perhaps there would be a more interesting way to cum before too long! "Oh God - its cumming!" cried Sam, "Its cummmming - I'm there! Ooooohhhhhh yeahhhh! Uuuuugghhh!" I felt his penis swell and thrust one more time before bursting loose with a powerful jet of hot cum that seemed to penetrate way up inside me. A second and quickly a third jet sprayed deeply into me again; a fourth and a fifth squirt adding to his deposits inside me before he slumped heavily onto my back. "Bloody hell - that was intense!" he said, "You made me cum so hard!" "Felt you - way up there," I said, having thoroughly enjoyed the power of his penis, "That was a good one." Paula was already there with the towel as Sam dismounted and had it clamped over my hole as soon as his cock slithered from my hole; Paula cleaning it for him as he moved away. I got up and was soon seated on the settee once more, but this time it was my turn to be sitting on the towel! "So, Sam, you're getting there!" I said, putting my hand on his knee as he sat beside me, "You said you hoped I'd be the man to help you, so how am I doing?" "Pretty well so far," replied Sam, his hand moving gently over his recently emptied penis, "But you haven't stuck your cock in my arse yet, have you?" "Didn't know if you were up for that yet," I said, feeling my own penis quivering with excitement, "I bet Paula would like to have a go too, if you're willing." "Hmmmm - might be a bit of a stretch, taking that one," Sam said as he looked at Paula's already reviving cock, "You take me first; anyway, that way you'll be my first in all three holes!" 'An unusual hat-trick of penetrations,' I thought, 'But then this whole evening has been completely unusual.' I stood up and turned to face Sam, who immediately grasped my twitching, excited, dripping penis and lovingly kissed the end, licking the little bubble of precum from the tip as he did so. He peeled back my foreskin and explored my knob, his tongue exquisite on the ridge of my crown, sending waves of pleasure all through me. Then I almost growled as he let my cock penetrate deep into his mouth before letting it slide out with a small plop. "He's ready," said Sam, his eyes glittering with anticipation, ""Come on, come and put him up me!" Paula already had the tube of KY at the ready and I blew her a kiss as I took it from her before getting myself into position. Sam had got off the settee and now was bending over it; his cute arse at the ready, the towel stuffed in his mouth. I spotted that and tried to take it from him to replace it with something nicer but he stopped me. "No - I like it; it smells and tastes so sexy; there's loads of tastes from all of us here and every time I suck it a bit more or even just breathe in, it gets more exciting," he said, "And its all sticky and smelly and lovely!" He groaned as he rubbed his face over the towel while I lubed up his arse and my cock, before shuffling up close behind him. I reached around him and found that his penis, despite having recently discharged its load up inside me, was hard again, so I gently caressed his knob as I started to try to penetrate his virgin arsehole. He was tight; that was for sure and I had to try different angles of approach before I managed to make even a small impression in his tightly puckered hole even though I'd lubricated both him and my penis thoroughly. I could have used my fingers to open him up but I felt that because mine was going to be the first penis to enter him, then fingers shouldn't play a part. And I could have just driven my cock hard up him in one go too, but that wasn't my style either, so I continued the more gentle approach...and slowly but surely my knob began to slide inside. "Careful, careful," moaned Sam, "Feels so big!" "Relax," I said, rubbing his penis more vigorously to distract his mind, "Push outwards if you can; the lube will do the rest." I kept up the pressure and there was a sudden release of pressure as Sam must have pushed as I told him and my knob disappeared out of view. "Aaaaahhhhh!" groaned Sam, wincing, "You're stretching me - hold still for a minute." I didn't mind taking my time, even if my cock had other ideas - he was all for getting the best he could but I held back, trying to remember my own first time. Oh yeah - out on a fishing trip when a pal and I camped overnight. We didn't do a whole lot of fishing but we certainly got to know each other a lot more intimately! He'd taken me doggy-style, and all we'd had to hand was a small pot of Vaseline for lubing our reels but that didn't stop him from thhrusting his seven inch cock deep into me in one thrust! At almost two in the morning and out in a tent on a still, quiet night beside a lake where the sound would carry, there was no way I could scream; we'd have been surrounded by rescuers in minutes! Instead I'd just bitten my arm as his cock took my virginity but thereafter I'd been able to relax and let him slide in and out until he shook and emptied his hot cum inside me. With that memory still clear in my mind, I allowed Sam's hole to get used to being stretched, until finally it was Sam who instigated the next move. "Ok, doesn't hurt now - just feels full," he said, his voice somewhat muffled by the towel, "Come on then, bit more...but go easy." I leaned in a bit closer and simply by tilting my pelvis a bit, I allowed my cock to penetrate inch by inch into his newly broached rectum. "More then, I can take it now," said Sam from the towel but I patted his hips. "I'm all the way in," I said, "Perhaps half an inch more but you've got me right up there - well done!" Sam lifted his head and looked back over his shoulder, a big smile on his face. "Wow - done it!" he said, "Feels weird but wonderful; I've got a man's penis inside my body - it's fantastic!" "How about the next bit though," I said as I began to wobble my cock around inside him, "How about when I start fucking you?" "Well, you're going to fill me with your cum somehow so you'd better start fucking me!" he said, chuckling "Unless you know any other way to get your cum up there!" "Can't think of one," I said as I began to slide in and out of his hole and that concentrated his thoughts. "Aaaahhhhh yessss," he moaned, "Still feels weird and stretchy but its better that it was." "It'll feel even better soon," I said, "Once you get used to it, it'll start turning you on." There was silence from the towel end so I continued to smoothly saw in and out, only changing the depth of my thrusts but not the intensity. I kept that up for a while and then grasped his forgotten penis once again, now rubbing it more actively. "Going to start fucking you harder now - won't be violent," I said, "But I can't cum without fucking you a fair bit harder." "Yeah, do it," moaned Sam, lifting his head, "Its ok now - feels fine; push deeper; go quicker!" Now using both my pelvis and my hips I increased the speed of my thrusts, now varying the angle and depth of my thrusts and making Sam moan and pant, but he wasn't stopping me. Harder and harder I fucked; it was my turn to pant now and sweat was bathing us both as we screwed; Sam's own body now responding and thrusting back at me at last. I noticed movement beside me and there was Paula, stropping her big hard-on; really getting into it as she watched us rutting. And it was pure and simple rutting now; no nicety, just lots of power and effort and noise! There were grunts and groans rising from us along with a haze of hot sexual odours and slapping sounds filled the air too as I slammed my cock home, time after time. "Come soon," moaned Sam, "Don't make me sore - hurry up and cum!" "Won't be long; squeeze me harder if you can," I asked and I felt Sam comply; his sphincter muscles contracting around my shaft and quickly raising my level of orgasmic pleasure. "Ooooh yesss, yessss," I groaned as I continued to fuck hard, "Nearly there now; I can feel it coming!" "Come on then Chris," said Paula from beside me, her hand a blur on her penis, "I'm almost there too!" And with a last deep thrust I froze as fire shot through me; tongues of flame turning me liquid; spasms of lust sending jet

after energetic jet of spunk from my thrusting penis, deep into Sam's rectal passage. "Fuuuuuck!" I cried as I unloaded, "Oh fuuuuuuuuck!" Paula just grunted loudly and suddenly hot splashes of cum sprayed over my cheek and into my hair. She grunted again and more cum squirted over Sam's back; then another load splattered against my turned face. I licked it from my lips, loving the warm slippery texture and taste of fresh cum, before returning to my own partner. Because I realised that of the three of us, Sam hadn't cum and since I had hold of his cock, I could at least remedy that situation. Briskly I restarted my actions on his shaft; feeling the slipperiness of his precum that the pressure of my cock on his prostate had produced; slipperiness that now helped me to toss him off that much quicker and easier. Sam moved the towel to his groin, holding it nearby as he approached his own climax, both of us panting again as we worked hard together. "Yeah, yeah, cumming, cumming..." said Sam suddenly, "Here it cums, here it cums!" I felt the towel cover my hand and his penis as he jerked hard beneath me; then a spurting sound as gout after gout of spunk squirted energetically into the towel. "Ohhhhhhhh," he moaned, "God - that was good..." He straightened up somewhat, my cock still embedded inside his anus as he brought the towel into view and opened it out. There was a big puddle of white sticky cum in the middle and he held it up to us. "See what you made me do Chris," he said, "Do you want it?" I shook my head, not so much because I didn't fancy the idea but because I was too knackered to even be interested, and moments later Sam raised the towel to his own lips and simply sucked the puddle into his own mouth. A quick open- mouth display to us and down it went, Sam licking his lips with obvious relish afterwards. "Do you want to take him out now?" he asked as he lowered the towel beneath my balls and I hummed my intent; I needed to rest. "Yeah, let me out," I said, "Try to squeeze your arsehole once I go or you'll flood the place!" Slowly I pulled away, sufficiently slowly to allow Sam to tighten his hole, even if a little trickle of whitish cum did slide out first, but the towel was there for that. I stood up feeling totally sated. There was Paula's cum streaked in my hair and sticking to my arm, my face and my back; my cock was slippery with lube and cum and even my mouth still held the taste of Paula's offering...and all I wanted to do was to sit down! Paula was still up and about however and was now hovering at my elbow with another chilly can - just what I wanted! "Whoooo," I breathed, "That's about enough for now, all I need now is to cool down and then have a nice shower. Any chance?" "I was going to suggest just that," said Paula, now coming to sit beside me on the settee, her warm firm breasts squashing against my side, "A nice intimate shower and then..." She wriggled around beside me, her nipples rubbing hard over my skin and even though I'd just had a damn good fuck, I felt my penis jerking with eager anticipation. I'd just begun wondering what we'd do with Sam, the obvious wallflower in our group, when a mobile phone chimed somewhere. "Mine! That's a message!" called out Sam as he groped in his pile of clothes and soon he was scanning the message with a huge smile on his face. "Hey," he said happily, "Tony's asked if I'd like to keep him company and I know what that means!" "What?" Paula and I echoed. "Well, he's been after me for ages and I don't half fancy him, but I've been scared," he said, "But now, thanks to you two, I can't wait! I bet I can get him in bed before the nights out!" "Who's Tony," I asked, not knowing Adam from Eve really. "He's only the director!" said Sam brightly, "Hope he's got his casting couch ready!" We laughed happily as Sam replied to the message and began to get dressed although he now looked strange as he pulled his girl's clothes back on. "You can laugh," he said, "But when Tony sees me like this he won't be able to keep his hands to himself, I hope!" Moments later and Sam kissed us both before disappearing through the door, leaving the two of us to breathe more easily. "So what do we do?" I asked and Paula had all the answers as she enveloped me in her arms and we kissed again, but this time with passion and feeling. "First we shower; then we can eat if you're hungry; then we can go to bed and then we can fuck and fuck!" she said, "You're staying the night, in case you didn't know!" Was I complaining - no way! I'd found a companion, a beautiful one at that, all complete with everything I loved. A willing hole, a nice big cock and wonderful breasts - not to mention a shower and a bed! I could just feel my life changing as we walked hand in hand up the stairs - my penis just wouldn't calm down - life had improved so much! There was a big company not far from this town, that had been head-hunting me for ages; perhaps it was now time for a change of employment. Perhaps I'd be able settle down and move in with Paula; perhaps I'd found exactly what I'd been looking for; my proud, magnificent shemale!

September 29, 1912 Sacred Assumption Convent 121 State Street New Orleans, Louisiana Your Excellency: I write this in the hopes of persuading the Archdiocese of New Orleans to consider granting more monies to the Sacred Assumption Convent. We are in dire straits due to the recent season of storms that have ravaged not only our properties, but have also ravaged our foods sources. In addition to the perils these storms have visited upon us, we have been implored to provide charity to our neighboring patrons and devotees. You have, no doubt, seen the effects on our Archdiocese; the storms themselves were catastrophic enough, but when the waters receded, the hordes of mosquitoes were quite maddening indeed. These mosquitoes, of course killed far more persons than any storm ever could have. We here at Sacred Assumption Convent are not excluded from these sufferings. We lost two of our caretakers to illness. Since they were Negroes, they will be scarcely missed, but it does present some strain to our upkeep. We have also acquired nine more orphans the storms, and the ensuing illnesses have produced. This brings our current charge to forty two children, all under the age of eighteen years. There were four infants of under one years of age, one male and three females. All females possessed the name Elizabeth Ann Bailey. To avoid duplication, if you will review your records, you will note that we already house two Elizabeth Ann Baileys of the ages of sixteen years of age and twelve years of age respectively, I have taken it upon myself to christen these girls with new names. Please add the following names to your records for Sacred Assumption Convent, in ascending order of age. Rachael Ann Baylor, formerly Elizabeth Ann Bailey, age four months. Michael Thomas O’Brien, age four months. Theresa Lucille Bailey, formerly Elizabeth Ann Bailey, age nine months. Mary Catherine Baylor, formerly Elizabeth Ann Bailey, age ten months. The following two are twin males. Paul Robert O’Malley, age four years. Thomas Richard O’Malley, age four years. Margaret Ann O’Malley, age seven years, sister to Paul and Thomas O’Malley. Samantha Nicole Hebert, age seven years. Rebecca Lynne Broussard, age ten years. Again, Your Excellency, I implore you to consider our needs; I implore that you be most generous and gracious in your consideration of our needs. Yours in Christ, Mother Lucille Baylor. **** August 9, 1930 1 DeGarde Chateau Lafayette, Louisiana My Dearest Theresa: How I miss you. We both knew that this day would come but I kept hoping and praying that somehow God would see fit that you and I would forever be together. But no matter how many novenas I offered or tears I shed, it was for naught. Michael and I have arrived at our stead; he as groundskeeper and I as maid. I cannot help but snicker at the thought of Michael as groundskeeper for you and I both know that it has always been I to assist in keeping the grounds of Sacred Assumption Convent. But Lady Emily DeGarde deemed it more fitting for our sexes to be employed as such. I cannot help but think, should she have seen how Michael Thomas O’Brien screamed, then fainted as we flew from the air field of New Orleans to the airfield of Lafayette, she would relegate our duties in a more fitting manner. But be assured, I shall do my duties to my fullest abilities. Let me describe to you our employer, Lady Emily DeGarde. To my unknowing eyes, she appears to be of forty years of age. Her face has some lines and her hair has some strands of silver amongst the black. She stands a mere five feet in height, mot much taller than Mother Superior Agnes, and much more slender than Mother Superior Agnes. Oddly enough, though, Lady Emily dresses in a manner that is somewhat disconcerting; she dresses as if she is still a child at her mother’s knee. She also participates in childish games. I simply must tell you of our very first meeting. When our aeroplane had come to a halt, Michael and I were met by a colored man driving an automobile. Our baggage was loaded, and we were taken to Lady Emily’s estate, Far East of Lafayette; I was sure we were to drive all the way back to New Orleans, we drove so far. As the colored man bade us leave the automobile, I heard hard soled shoes striking the ground. I glanced and saw a small boy running toward us; head covered by cloth cap, shirt with no collar attached, and short pants. His small face was displaying all the charms of a youth engaging in mischief, so as he ran past, I did what I have done so many times in the past when the boys of Sacred Assumption misbehaved; I reached out and yanked the boy off his feet. The boy yelled for me to let him go and called me several quite hurtful names. Then the child had the cheek to bite me, quite hard, on my nose. I was so shocked, both by the savage bite, and by the vile names I had been called that I relinquished my hold on the youth. As he ran off, the colored man laughed and said to myself and Michael that we had now met our matron, Lady Emily DeGarde. I stared at him n confusion; he could not have meant that Lady Emily DeGarde was, in fact, a boy. Then we heard more hard soled shoes running and a woman, dressed in the clothing of a young boy ran past us. This time, there was no mistaking the gender of the person; the male clothing did not suppress woman’s bosom or hips. We were told that the woman was our superior, Miss Chloe Hebert. We entered the front of the building, each carrying our own baggage and a colored woman dismissed the man, and then showed us to the third floor of the house. My room was adjacent to Michael’s room and we shared a common washroom. In Glancing out of my window, I could see Chloe; she had the small boy kneeling in front of her and seemed to be bouncing her belly against the posterior of the boy. The colored woman shocked me tremendously when she too glanced out the window and declared that Chloe had found Lady Emily’s hiding place and was now exacting her punishment. I confessed that I may have hindered Lady Emily, but the colored woman just laughed all the harder and confided that Lady Emily always hides in the same place, hoping to be caught and then punished. It was nearly dark by then so we were given our evening meal and bade good night’s rest. Our duties would be explained to us in the morning. It grows late; I will close this letter for now, my dear Theresa. But know this; I still taste your lips, I still feel your flesh against mine. Time will never erase those memories from my heart, my dear Theresa. Yours, Rachael Ann Baylor. **** August 16, 1930 1 DeGarde Chateau Lafayette, Louisiana My dearest Theresa: Once weekly, we are to take the automobile to Lafayette to procure our perishable goods, and to deliver the post. I do plan to write to you at least one letter a week now that I know of our schedule. And of such, I must tell of our employ. Our very first morning, we were roused from our slumber by Chloe Hebert, our supervisor. She allowed us but little time to perform our morning constitutionals, and then measured us for our work costumes. To my utter embarrassment, she did this together. I had to stand, in my undergarments, in front of Michael. I am sure my face was nearly as red as a fresh tomato. To compound my discomfort, she said that we were to wear our costumes without the benefit of our undergarments. This of course would be of no concern, if the costumes were of acceptable length and decorum, but they are not. My costume has a bodice that bares much of my bosom, which, as you may remember, is quite ample. The skirt of the costume barely reaches my knee, exposing my calf to whomever cares to look. Michael, because he shall labor outdoors, is allowed a shirt and collar as well as full length trousers and hard soled boots. He also has a short cap to cover his fair head. For myself, Chloe began to have me don a cap, but then tugged on my hair and said that she could not bear the thought of covering my beautiful locks I promptly gave Michael a drubbing with my fist as he laughed at Chloe’s statement. But I must agree; none but this woman has ever space of my auburn locks as beautiful. My duties are simple, really. I am the maid in charge of the second floor which contains the sleeping quarters, library, and billiards and card room of the house. There are two colored girls to care for the kitchen, dining area, and parlor of the first floor. And it was while I was in the library that I had my second meeting with our employer, Lady Emily. Theresa, as you may remember, I was a voracious reader, much enjoying the works of Shakespeare, Chaucer, and Byron and Keats. These tomes were available, lining the shelves of the east wall. The northern wall and western wall, however, had volumes of the like which have never graced, nay, disgraced the library of Sacred Assumption. I had stepped onto the ladder to dust the upper shelves and naturally skimmed along the titles of these books. Have you ever heard of ‘The Memoirs of Fanny Hill’ or ‘A Collection of Tales from The Pearl?’ No respectful woman should ever read such prurient, salacious filth! But I was on the ladder, dusting the top shelf, nearly a dozen feet off the ground when I heard the rustle of clothing beneath me. I glanced over my shoulder and espied a girl standing directly behind me, peering quite intently up my skirt. I clutched my skirt to myself and harshly told the child to run along. Instead of running, though, the child had the impertinence to comment on the color of the hair covering my cleft. She called it a coo instead of a cleft, though. Then, the insolent urchin had the audacity to ask if I was literate; if I could read a story to her before her mid-day repose. Again, I loudly demanded that she remove herself at once. I must have been quite loud because Chloe came in to see what the noise was about. Then she bade me to come down the ladder and be formerly introduced to my employer, Lady Emily DeGarde. Theresa, Lady Emily DeGarde was the naughty child. I could hardly find my voice as Chloe introduced me to this woman. All I could do was staring in an impolite manner at this woman that dressed in the short dresses of a child. Her dark hair is cut quite short, and is held in place with the hair ribbons of a child. The dress itself was of a pale yellow and reached down to mid- thigh. I very nearly expected her to raise the hem and expose to me her diaper. Again, she asked if I could read and I did admit that I am quite well versed in the classics, along with a few of the more modern literature. Then this woman turned to Chloe and demanded that I be made to read to her. She then curtsied, razing the hem of her short costume, and I saw that she did not have on any diaper, as I had feared. Much worse; she too was without undergarments. The book which Chloe obtained was entitled ‘Risqué and Ribald Bedtime Tales.’ I dutifully followed the woman to Lady Emily’s bedchamber where Lady Emily was already in the sleeping garment of a child. I asked which tale she would like read and she very quickly demanded Tale one hundred and twelve. I was only three pages into the story when I heard Lady Emily’s deep rumbling snores. Very unladylike, I assure you. But I simply had to finish the tale; I was absolutely entranced by the very vulgarity of the words! I shall do my best to tell you that the tale had to do with a dutiful daughter allowing her father the liberties of herself that only a husband should avail of his wife. The daughter did much more than gives her father the rights to her cleft, though. She also used her mouth on his manhood. But when the author hinted that the father would ask for the daughter to surrender her fundament, I shut the book forthwith. So, my dearest Theresa that is my charge. I care for the home and possessions of a woman that regards herself as a child, surrounded by the staff that entertains her notions, and am forced to read the writings of depraved imaginations. And of course, Michael is of no assistance. He must wake before I and is quite often late arriving to the third floor. I do not find myself lacking his uninspiring wit and conversation, though. I do find myself quite often thinking of you, of your sweet kisses and tender touches. Oh, Theresa, if only I were a man! I would then betroth myself to you! But I cannot, so must contend myself with dreams of you. Yours, Rachael Ann Baylor **** August 30, 1930 1 DeGarde Chateau Lafayette, Louisiana My Dearest Theresa, I have very exciting things to write to you in this post. Lucas, the colored man that drives Michael and myself to town once a week decided that Michael or I needed to learn to drive, for those days when he is unable to perform those duties. Michael proved that he is incapable of this, very nearly striking a tree before we were even out of sight of DeGarde Chateau. He then proceeded to stall the automobile three times in a row. Lucas then showed me how to operate the motorcar and said that I managed quite well. So, I am now the second floor maid and the only other person in the house to possess the rights to operate the motorcar. Aside from this, though, my employ here at 1 DeGarde Chateau is quite disconcerting. Lady Emily seems to delight in tormenting me. She quite often hides in the linen closet, which is located in the wash room, springing out as I am relieving myself. She also enjoys peering through the keyhole as I bathe. When I am seated, reading to her from her quite lewd tomes, she attempts to peer up my skirt, or down my bodice. She makes no attempts to be discrete and will quite often comment on the loveliness of my form and coloring. She also avails herself of spirits and will become greatly intoxicated. I do not know where she has procured the spirits as the Volstead Act makes possession of, or consumption of such illegal. Chloe has said to me, though, that when one has the amount of monies that Lady Emily possesses, there are very few laws that govern. But it is when she is intoxicated that I fear fro my virtue and my very life. When she is of the mood, she will display to me her father’s collection of rifles, pistols, swords, daggers and knives. It would seem that Captain DeGarde was in the employ of the Army and even rode with Theodore Roosevelt. Lady Emily makes the claim that she is quite proficient with Captain DeGarde’s entire arsenal. The first time she showed me the collection, which is on prominent display in the billiards room, she took down a vicious looking sword, hefted it, and swiped at me with it. I screamed as the blade very nearly striking me. She then ordered me to remove my costume. Chloe ran into the room to see why I had screamed, thus saving me from having to disrobe. I do avoid that room, particularly when I hear Lady Emily going into the room. But if summoned, I do go; it is my position, after all. Theresa, how I miss you, how I long for you, long to have you in my arms. I shall dream of you, my set, lovely Theresa. Yours, Rachael Ann Baylor **** October 19, 1930 1813 Good Children New Orleans, Louisiana My dearest Rachael, I too miss you and do pray that God Himself deem it so that we can be together again. I still remember that one night that you so brazenly slipped into my cot and gave me such wanton pleasure with your mouth. At night, the loneliness and the longing grow so great that I do touch my own cleft and imagine it is your hand. Rachael, I am quite dissatisfied with my position here as Dr. Kimble’s governess. He is quite the surgeon, or so the staff tell me, but he is rarely home to mind his own children. The children, an eight year old boy and a five year old girl, are intolerable creatures that believe themselves the better of me. They do not mind my requests, are often ill-tongued, quite disrespectful to myself and to the other staff. They seem to delight in reminding us that we are not their father or their mother and therefore cannot tell them how to conduct themselves. The father? He is so cowed by his own children that he will not tell them to mind us. As I said, I am told that he is a brilliant surgeon. I wish that he would perform a surgery on his children and remove their impertinent tongues. Perhaps he could perform a surgery upon himself and give himself a backbone with which to stand up to these cretins he has sired. I did not wish to spend my time writing this letter in spiteful complaints but I simply must tell someone or I shall burst. And I do have a query; in your earlier correspondence, you stated that ‘The Town Bull’ penned by the infamous John Cleland is no prose that any respectful woman would ever read. My dear Rachael, how would you know this? Unless you have done what no respectful woman would do and actually read the book? I am sure your lovely freckles are all but obscured by your profound blush! Oh my dear Rachael, I do remember a time or two that I caused your blush and laugh now, remembering those times. Alas, I must end this letter; Earl is loudly demanding that I accompany him to the park so that he may ride his bicycle. With Love, Theresa Lucille Bailey **** October 26, 1930 1 DeGarde Chateau Lafayette, Louisiana My dearest Theresa, I find myself falling deeper and deeper into the chasm; the people of DeGarde Chateau are completely mad. I fear for my very sanity. Last evening, as is her wont, I arrived at Lady Emily’s bedchambers to read to her from that most vile of books. She seems to favor those stories numbered from one hundred and one to one hundred and twenty. These are the stories of fathers taking their daughters virtue. From time to time, she will have me read a selection from those numbered eighty one to one hundred, which are stories of young maidens learning the pleasures of carnality from one another. She never has me read anything from one hundred and eighty to two hundred and one, the recounting of young men enjoying the sins of the flesh with one another. And I am most grateful that I do not have to read any of the tales numbered two hundred and forty one to two hundred and sixty. I had to consult the large unabridged dictionary Lady Emily DeGarde has to see what bestiality actually means. Believe me; you have no desire to learn. The good sisters of Sacred Assumption would faint dead away, I can assure you of that. But I am rambling, am I not? I entered after being bade to do so, and Lady Emily was, as usual, in a state of undress. But so too was Chloe. I did offer to leave to return at a later time and was told that I could sit and begin reading one hundred and six, which is one of Lady Emily’s favorite. In this particular tale, the father impregnates his dither, then at a suitable time, impregnates are again. The entirety of my reading, Lady Emily and Chloe kissed and fondled each other, with lights on, and with myself in the room, observing. When I finished the tale, which ends when the father decides to impregnate his daughter’s daughter, just as the girl has reached the age of majority, Lady Emily ordered me to read one hundred, a tale of an older woman being awarded charge of a young niece, and teaching the young niece the beauty of the kind of love that women can so easily share. Just as I completed that reading, Lady Emily grasped my hand and said that she would like to be my ‘Aunt’ and would like to teach me. I confessed that I was already familiar with the carnal pleasures, but was only familiar with immature fumbling in a dark dormitory, with the fear of being discovered ever present. Theresa, please do not be angry that I have broken our confidence; I did not relinquish your name, just that you were my closest friend and that I have a strong attraction and affinity for you. Again, I fear that I am slipping into the madness. I sit and write this letter from the bedchambers of Lady Emily; she has had my meager possessions moved from the third floor into her own chambers. She has hinted that tonight, I will learn the function and usage of a phallus, artificial though it may be and in my own madness, Theresa, I tremble in anticipation. I must close this note for now; I hear the footsteps of my Lady coming. With Love, Rachael Ann Baylor **** December 26, 1930 1813 Good Children New Orleans, Louisiana My dearest Rachael, Thank you for the lovely gold crucifix and the quite smart watch. I wear the crucifix around my neck and nestle it next to my heart. The watch fits handsomely upon my wrist, where I can look upon it and think of you. Rachael, I simply am besides myself at this moment. Dr. Kimble’s gift to me was a complete shock. All his staff; the two maids, the cook, and the chauffer as well as myself each received a twenty five dollar cheque. I do not need to tell you just how incredibly generous twenty five dollars is; the newspapers carry such dreadful accounts of the suffering of our fellow countrymen and their families. Then, after Earl and Rebecca had finally allowed themselves to be put to bed, Dr. Kimble entered my own bedchambers. Thankfully, I was still fully clothed, but it was still quite troubling to have a male visitor in my bedchamber. He was as nervous as I and spent much of his time in my chamber speaking of nothing important, and then came out with a declaration of admiration and love! He then presented me with a gold ring that is adorned with two diamonds. He said that the two diamonds represent himself and myself and if I would agree to wed myself to him, the ring would be mine to keep. He wanted an answer right away, but I begged off, telling him that I really needed to pray on this; it is quite a decision to make. Rachael, on the one hand, it would offer much security; he is quite wealthy. He is not unpleasant to look upon and is reasonably well-mannered. But those two beastly children of his! And of course, he shall want more children that I shall have to bear for him. This morning, I did tell him that my answer is affirmative, provided that the children are made to understand that I will now be their mother and am to be afforded all the respect that motherhood entails. I smiled my very first smile since entering the Kimble home when Earl and Rebecca were informed of this development. Both children declared their hatred of me and declared that they would not mind me. I then entered his library and sternly told him that he could either discipline his children, very decisively, or the nuptials were to be called off. Earl was first to receive a bare-bottom paddling which had himself and young Rebecca in tears by the time Dr. Kimble ceased, then Rebecca was given the same, albeit with fewer strikes as she is younger and more delicate. May God have mercy upon me but I did quite enjoy their wails! As soon as the much chastened Dr. Kimble departed for his appointments, I did inform the children that, as soon as I was wed to their father, it would be I administering the paddle and that I would not be as lenient as he. Rachael, I grow apprehensive at the very thought of marriage to this man and apprehensive at assuming the deities of motherhood. He has set the wedding date to be one month from this day, on January 26 of this coming year. I do not know why he will not give more time to plan, but he is adamant that we wed soon. I close this letter now; the night grows long for me. With Much Love, Theresa Lucille Bailey **** January 2, 1931 1 DeGarde Chateau Lafayette, Louisiana My dearest Theresa, And soon I shall have to address you as Mistress Kimble. Enclosed, please find a cheque from Lady Emily DeGarde and myself; it is our wedding gift to you. I am actually laughing as I write this; you will not believe what occurred here at DeGarde Chateau during the Christmas festivities. Lady Emily is much into the festivities of the season and has us decorate her home in as grand a fashion as you have ever seen. She also uses the holiday as an excuse to imbibe ever more into her private stash of spirits. She even allows the colored servants to imbibe after their duties are completed. Her son, Jasper DeGarde, arrived two days before Christmas. He was not expected, but thankfully I had already prepared a chamber for him. I had done so in anticipation of a guest arriving too late to make the treacherous journey away. I could tell that Lady Emily was not pleased to see her only child, no he pleased to see her. Because of the season, though, the two did agree to be civil with one another. Though his name is Jasper, he did tell me that I am to address him as Jazz; a name he has acquired for himself as he resides in New Orleans. He would not tell me his street, but hinted that it was close to Audobon Park. I did tell him that I grew up within striking distance of Audobon Park, at the convent. Then Michael wandered in, complaining bitterly of the col. Jazz and Michael looked at one another and did not take their eyes from the other. Lady Emily made a quite unladylike sound and then called her son a fruit. After dinner, Lady Emily drank quite a bit of her spirits and I had to summon Lucas and Chloe to assist me in carrying her to her bed. She could not be roused from her slumber, so I left her chambers, grateful for the respite. Of late, she has often marked my flesh with the severity of her touches. Both my cleft and my fundament have been violated by her dildo, which is a rather large club made of carved ivory and adorned with several bumps. She also has one that she cinches about her waist with a belt of leather. It too is made of ivory but is quite smooth in texture. My intent was to retire in my previous third floor room so I walked toward the staircase. Then I heard, somewhat muffled, Michael complain that he was being harmed. Then I heard Jazz assure him that any pain would be short lived. I could not resist and peered in through the keyhole. There, on the bed, were Jazz and Michael. Both had disrobed completely and both were in a state of arousal. Michael lay upon his back while Jazz knelt above him and the two men kissed as passionately as a man and woman would kiss. I very nearly cried out as I then saw Jazz take his phallus and force it into Michael’s fundament. Again Michael protested, but Jazz persisted and thrust his phallus in and out of Michael’s fundament. After a few moments, he asked Michael if it still pained him and Michael cried out that it felt absolutely glorious. I did not stay to witness any other behavior between the two degenerates; rather I ran to my own room. Two days after we celebrated the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, Jazz and Michael left DeGarde Chateau, bound for New Orleans. Both Lady Emily and I heaved a sigh of relief at their departure. I heave a sigh of remorse that you will soon be wed to another. I do remain gladdened that I have known the pleasures of your kiss and will treasure that memory for all my life. I close this letter for now, my darling Theresa. Lady Emily has ordered me to wash the sheets from the bed that Jazz and Michael had sullied; she declares that she can still smell their foul stench on the bedding. I must take the sheets down from the clothes line now. All My Love, Rachael Ann Baylor **** January 29, 1931 1813 Good Children New Orleans, Louisiana My dearest Rachael, I can barely contain my laughter as I write these words to you. I am now Theresa Lucille Kimble. But this alone is not the source of my laughter. I shall explain. The wedding itself was an over long and quite ostentatious ceremony. I, cinched in girdle and formal gown, was quite close to fainting away as Father Geoffrey mumbled and stuttered his way through the words. My husband looked quite ill at ease in his own finery, as did his two children. The wedding meal, thankfully, followed very quickly and I ate what I was able to; the girdle preventing me from fully indulging my wants. Then, the children were sent to bed, and Dr. Kimble and I retired to his suite to consummate our nuptials. Rachael, his manhood could hardly be called manhood; it is all of four inches long, if that. No sooner had I removed my girdle than he was mounting me as a bull mounts his cow. I did experience the sting of my maidenhead giving way to my husband, and then he bellowed, broke wind, and was completed. I stared at him as he prepared to slumber and asked him if he truly believed himself to be done; I was still unsatisfied. He told me that his husbandly rights did not bear it upon him to satisfy my salacious nature. In fact, it would be best for me to not desire satisfaction. I then informed him that the marriage was over if he truly believed that I would confine myself to a lifetime of dissatisfaction and frustration. He angrily gestured at his manhood (I still chortle at referring to his small appendage as ‘manhood’) and stated that it would not rise to the occasion. I stated he had a mouth and that mouth contained a tongue. He was horrified at I would even suggest such a vile act and stated that, indeed this marriage was over if I truly had such proclivities. He began to rise out of the bed and made an effort to push me from his chambers. I shoved him, quite hard, sung my leg over, and forced my cleft quite firmly onto his mouth, matching beard for beard as it were. Oh, Rachael! He struggled mightily and cried out quite vulgar words, words that no husband should utter to his wife, but I did tell him that he could either use his tongue, or he could suffocate. He finally did lick my cleft and did locate my pleasure bump. At this point, I did release my hold upon his head and allow him to draw breath. I could see in his eyes that he was quite upset, even angered with me, but just as he prepared to utter more vindictive words, I pressed my cleft to his face again. He finally managed to bring me to satisfaction, albeit weakly. But when I dismounted his face, I noticed that his manhood was once again quite rampant and so I squatted upon it. I then informed him, if he again failed to satisfy me, I would take his razor strop and flail him soundly. He promptly did spend mightily into my womb. Rachael, I now do laugh as I write these very words; I made good my promise and whacked him quite soundly upon his posterior. The harder I struck him, the more rampant his manhood grew. Soon, I was taunting him and taunting his manhood and he fell to his knees, kissed my bare feet and begged my forgiveness. I laugh because as I write this, he is in our chambers, awaiting my ministrations. After I have flogged him, I then shall allow him to pleasure my cleft with his mouth. If he does well enough, I will then grant him permission to place his manhood into my cleft. The children? They have decided to test my authority, and both have learned it best not to test my authority again. Suffice it to say that neither one will be demanding to be allowed to ride their bicycles any time soon; those hard leather seats can be quite uncomfortable on a sore backside. I close this letter for now, my dear Rachael; I have made my husband wait long enough for his nightly reward. With Much Love, Theresa Lucille Kimble **** February 16, 1931 1 DeGarde Chateau Lafayette, Louisiana My dearest Theresa, I have read your letter over and over again and each new reading again brings merriment. Fortunate indeed the woman that can keep her husband in good order. I have both happy news and tragic news to divulge. Let me begin with the happy news. With the departure of Michael, we had need of a new groundskeeper. Lucas was overheard to comment that we had need of a new groundskeeper long before Michael’s departure; we did have to agree with him. I sent a correspondence straight away to Sacred Assumption and inquired of Paul Thomas Bender’s suitability for this position. I am sure you remember him; he had the long dark hair that he wore in curls, the slender, angelic face, and quite handsome physique. He had left Sacred Assumption two years prior to work for an iron foundry. How fortunate for us that he had just recently lost this position; the foundry closed its doors. He was dispatched immediately and Lucas was sent to the airfield to collect him. Theresa, I was already quite anxious of his arrival, but the moment he stepped into the foyer of DeGarde Chateau, my anxiety multiplied. I very nearly swooned at the sight of him. Lucas did very poorly to hide his amusement as I approached on shaky legs to where our new groundskeeper stood. He reached out a hand to me, but I brushed his hand aside and pressed my bosom to him and none too gently pressed my lips to his. That very night, he became the first man to ever enter my cleft. My maidenhead had long been disposed of by Lady Emily’s dildo (her name for the phallus she cinches to her waist) but if he was disappointed in my lack of this barrier, Paul Thomas did not give voice to his disappointment. As skilled as Lady Emily is with her dildo, particularly the one she ties about her waist, she is sorely lacking when compared to Paul Thomas. I cried out several times as my pleasure crested over and over. With heaviness of heart, I left him to slumber; the duties groundskeeper starts quite early indeed. I was then summoned to Lady Emily’s chambers. Upon my arrival, she demanded that I disrobe; not an unusual demand from her, I assure you. I spend more of my days disrobed than I would care to recount. Then she examined my cleft; she calls it a coo, and upon spotting Paul Thomas seed flowing from my cleft, began to lap at my cleft in earnest. And that is how it has been for the past few nights. I entertain Paul Thomas, and then Lady Emily partakes of Paul Thomas’ spending, taking it from my cleft. But now for the tragic news. Chloe, my supervisor, took quite ill with dysentery. We did summon the doctor and he arrived from Lafayette, but by the time he had arrived, she had worsened. All he could do by this point is making her comfortable. She expired the following morning. Being that she was an orphan, a charge of Sacred Assumption, we buried her in the small cemetery just a short walk from a beautiful lake. I read the gravestones in this small cemetery and saw that Captain DeGarde and two other DeGarde males had expired September 29, 1911. This date is significant to myself because the date coincides with my inclusion into the Sacred Assumption Convent. There was also one grave for a Catherine Emily DeGarde, deceased March 3, 1893. Lady Emily came and quietly informed me that this was the gravesite of her mother whom had died giving birth to Lady Emily. The two males buried with the Captain were the brothers of Lady Emily. With the passing of Chloe Hebert, I am now in charge of the house servants, four colored girls, and all four older than myself. Theresa, I am but nineteen years of age, far too young to bear such responsibility! But I shall do my best. I close this letter for now. I must tend to the planning of the Sunday meal. With Much Love, Rachael Ann Baylor. **** March 4, 1931 1 DeGarde Chateau Lafayette, Louisiana My Dearest Theresa, I am glad you found much amusement in reading the tome I borrowed from Lady Emily’s library. I was sure that you would make use of the writings contained within ‘The Art of Restraint and Flagellation’ and am gratified that you did not find the works tedious. Yesterday was Lady Emily’s birthday. For the festivities, she had worn a very short pink frock that barely reached midway to her knees, very much like the frocks of a child. In her short hair, she had a matching ribbon and likewise had on matching short stockings and small black leather buckled shoes. We celebrated by having a picnic by the lake, and then had cake and ice cream. There were nineteen candles placed upon the cake, even though, by all accounts, there should be thirty eight candles adorning the cake. Luella, one of the cooks, informed me that there have never been more than nineteen candles; her nineteenth birthday was the first birthday Lady Emily celebrated as the matriarch of the DeGarde estate. We sang a rather silly song and she closed her eyes