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A Day

By: bewilderness



We would be having breakfast together, laughing and joking around the way we usually do sitting close to each other... 

Then you'd motion me to slip into your lap and I do so, You're wearing a t shirt and casual jeans, for working around the house, and you smell delicious, your breath smells of morning coffee and I've always loved your after shave. I nuzzle into your chest hugging you snugly and you hug me back and we kiss in a loving way I'm wearing one of your white cotton front-button casual shirts actually, its all crumpled up from being slept around in and no underwear, but the shirt tails are long enough to make me look decent although the translucency of the shirt material make the dark erect buds of my nipples visible.

You kiss my eyes close and I sigh contentedly as you move to kiss my neck, taking soft firm nibbles and then bites I rub myself against you instinctively as your fingers run through my hair, grasping a bunch at the nape of my neck; you gently tilt my head back, I am straddled across you (facing you) with my arms around your waist, one of your arms around mine, the other clamps over my eyes gently as You gulp cold orange juice and dribble it softly into my mouth licking stray drops out of the corners, I gasp a little but get used to drinking from your mouth, licking my lips as you pull away. Then you lift your hand away from my eyes and stand me up smiling. I giggle and blush. 

I like how we can be so intimate even over such small things as breakfast; I like how safe I feel with you, how you can seem so big and how I can seem so small. I know you're going to set me an assignment; You lean over and whisper in my ear that you would like eggs and exactly how to cook them, sunny side up with a dash of garlic and olive oil, how they should be done just perfect and the yolk mustn't break. I am to do this standing tiptoe with my legs apart, and whatever happens I am only to concentrate on my task not to move from my position, or let the eggs burn. I smile nod my understanding and hurry to do the task, getting the heavy skillet from the cabinets as I pour out the dash of oil and crack the egg on its side, careful not to break the yolk. I'm settling to the task when you come up behind me, and lift up the shirt tails tying them up around my waist so my mid section, my pubic area and my thighs are exposed to you, you bend me ever so slightly forward, slipping a leather collar with an O ring around my neck, I hadn't started the stove yet and you give my bum a quick reprimanding smack. I yelp and get back to cooking the egg Suddenly, you begin to torturously dribble cold honey from my mid lower back taking me quite by surprise I almost jump, but remember in time to hold my position, helplessly letting the honey drip between the crack of my buttocks. 

You begin to smear the honey downwards against my ass and along my cunt lips, and I groan trying desperately to concentrate on my task as I carefully flip the sides of the egg up, you circle a honey smeared finger against my butthole and I gasp, because it feels so intensely pleasurable, you begin to enter and plunder my back side as you drop to your knees behind me and lick at the honey mixing with my own juices, I blink twice each moment of pleasure making it harder and harder to concentrate on my eggs and hold my tiptoed position. I feel you enter two fingers in my ass and I shudder close to an orgasm, I begin to beg for you to stop and let me finish cooking your egg but you pay me no mind and continue plundering my backside. 

I groan and this time my pleas are for you to let me cum, you ignore me still, your free hand rubbing my clit furiously. I'm close to tears with the frustration of holding back my pleasure waiting for your sweet command that would mean my release knowing full well what is in store for me if I should fail to wait... But I can't hold back my orgasm much longer as my body begins to clench and I move against your invading fingers groaning out my carnal lust and pleasure... the eggs forgotten. You hold me steady and I let go of the spatula (it clatters to the floor leaving an eggy mess) sprawling on fours as wave after wave of orgasm hits me, your still wriggling your fingers inside me. The slight discomfort but intense pleasure makes me want to scream as I feel my insides clench again in ecstasy... 

Then I feel your fingers slowly leave my ass, and I moan feeling the loss of them. I hang my head embarrassed realising how disobedient I've been; I go back to kneeling at a loss of what to do next, I mutter a sheepish "sorry Sir." You are so silent as you get up and quietly switch off the stove, then you bend right next to me and say in your no-nonsense voice...

"Hmm I thought I trained you better than that (pause) looks like we will have to train you all over again, won't we?"

"But I ... Sir... I..." I stammer and then nod miserably. 

I could only imagine what would come next and to add to my list of wrong doings, I had also answered back.

"Now look at that breakfast" 

You point to the egg on the floor tugging at my leather collar so I am pushed forward on my fours

"It's only fit for pets and dogs to eat" you say and you look at me 

I blush not believing what you are implying

I blink as you gently push my head down towards the egg splattered on the floor,

"Clean it up pet" you say

I nod my understanding, and bend to my set task, licking my breakfast off the floor on all fours, my behind exposed to your view 

"And I haven't punished you yet for cumming without permission.." 

I cringe slightly but continue licking at the egg mess You pick up the spatula, it is a soft plastic one made specially for use with Teflon ware. And you fondle it as if contemplating what to do next as it glistens with the olive oil. You get behind me and command me to stay still as you wipe the warm olive oil from the spatula against my bottom, and then "SMACK" you begin to spank me with it

"Oh!" I cry surprised at the sensation, I wince and try to hold my position as I count "One! thank you Sir."

Smack, Smack , Smack Smack

"Six thank you Sir" and my lower lip is trembling as I feel my backside heating up

"Eight" and these smacks aren't quite so light as they were in the beginning, they really are punishment 

"Ten, than..k...you Sir I'm really sorry sir please.."

"Please what?"

"Please forgive me" I beg 

Your punishment is in part my forgiveness you say quietly as you bend to kiss me

10 more

I groan and tremble, as you gently pat at the redness before delivering another 5 blows in rapid succession as I count them out "fiftee..n Sir.. Tha.. nk you" I labour, panting and trying to blink back tears.

You stop, putting the spatula aside

"We'll save the 5 for later, right now I feel like making use of my pet"

you say as you thrust me forward and mount me doggie style, with quick hard thrusts into my dripping pussy

I moan as I feel you fill me to the hilt trying to keep my position as I feel your hard grip on my shoulders, and with each thrust I moan aloud. I feel myself clenching again and I began to beg .. you quickly withdraw and frown a little... 

You leave me still on my fours, and cross over to the sink wetting a little kitchen towel with cold water, you return to gently wipe away the oil, egg honey and juices from my sore backside and cunt, cleaning me up gently as you stand me up... You draw up a chair and have me sit back as I were this morning (it is now noon), unbuttoning the shirt to gently fondle my breasts, as I quietly lower my gaze moaning with each pinch to my nipples aching with desire... You tug longer and harder at each nipple with every twist, and I wince slightly...

"Hmm" you mutter

Yes we'll definitely have to train you all over again

I gulp , "Yes, Sir" "All right" you say, "Go upstairs to our bedroom, kneel in our bath tub , we will begin your training again!"

I do as I am told, my knees pressed against the anti slip rubber matting we have in the tub, I hear you shifting about in our bedroom and It feels like I've knelt for hours till you finally come into the bathroom finding me knelt in the bathtub, the shirt still tied around my waist. you kiss me gently and begin to strip me off my clothes. I daren't look at you keeping my gaze down. you remove my collar allowing me to keep the silver necklace that symbolises my collar around my neck. "we don't want to get that wet now do we"

You throw the shirt in the laundry basket as you begin to fondle my breasts, then you tilt my head up and I see you, you are wearing a pair of leather pants, beside you, placed carefully on a small stool you have two cotton pads, a pair of scissors and a roll of duct tape. You pet me gently allowing me to get more comfortable in the tub, which you begin to fill with bubbles and water to my waist, then you take a hand towel dipping it into the bath, begin to clean me thoroughly. I relax under your comforting touch and tell you how much I love you , but you quiet me smiling and kiss my forehead as you get me clean... you get me out of the bath and kneel me in front of you "we shall now begin your instruction again as my pet, at no time will you be allowed to address me in any other manner save Master or Sir..." 

I complete your instructions to me having heard the same commandments at least a dozen times before "At no time will I directly gaze upon you unless instructed, your instructions are to be followed explicitly and without hesitation , failure to do so brings about punishment When in a situation where speech is not acceptable, I will flex my toes/tap my toes as indication of not wanting to continue with play When in a situation where I do not feel comfortable beyond what I can tolerate I am to utter my safe word... careless use of my safeword to escape an uncomfortable or humiliating situation also affords me a severe punishment" "Ah so I see my girl hasn't forgotten all her lessons"

I giggle and shake my head

"Hmm then why did we have to punish you this morning"

I keep quiet, embarrassed 

Your lessons for today will be on trusting and relying on your Master, you will spend the rest of today blindfolded till I say you may remove your blinds. I gulp nervously but reply "Yes Sir" You pull me closer to you my hands rest on your leather pants loving the texture smell and feel of it under my touch, Bend forward you say as you press my cheek gently against your lap, and I'm dizzy with the smell of you in leather and the feel of it against my skin...You bunch up my hair and grip it in place with a hair clip, brushing all my hair away from my eyes as you gently place the cotton pads over my eyes careful to cover them as you strap them in place with a length of duct tape. At once I feel a sudden nervousness and chew at my lip nervously feeling vulnerable and exposed to you. "Now open your mouth" I pause and nod, feeling you strap a small bit into place, forcing my mouth open against it, I feel myself blush unable to control the saliva that pools in my mouth...you click the straps into place "now you may nod for yes and shake your head for no is that understood?" 

I nod my head You stand me up and I stand with my legs apart as I am trained to do. You have me bend over my hands grasping the rim of the bath ... You pass what feels like the heel of a leather shoe just under my nose.. and you allow me to explore it with my tongue You adjust my position and then you hold my right foot up, as I balance on my left, you slip the shoe on my foot letting me shift weights as you dress my left foot. You spread my legs to the width of my training markers (two small black mosiac tiles) as my heels rest on them and then I feel you dab a little KY jelly on my asshole I groan unable to see what you are doing to me or to object to it... and then I feel it... the invasion of an enema syringe in my butthole, I thrash and squirm... embarrassed and nervous, but you still me and I groan as I feel its length enter me, I stay still groaning .. and then I begin to feel that strange sensation as you introduce liquid from the bag up my ass filling my bladder...I grunt and moan against my bit, my mind reeling surely I can't take anymore.. and then mercifully it stops filling... and you slip a t plug to replace the enema nozzle... I groan as you gently stroke against my breast, my chest and then my abdomen, which you push against ever so slightly and I feel like crying desperately trying to keep from cramping "How is my pet doing" you say as you kiss the sweat on my brow and wipe away drool from the corners of my mouth.. 

I turn towards the sound of your voice and plaintively moan "Uhhhhhhh!" The feeling in my bowels is so intense! " Yes we're getting you all nice and clean before we can properly start your training" "Another part of your training is staying wet for your master" you say and I feel you finger my pussy "Ah its nice to see my pet hasn't forgotten that lesson" And I can hear the smile in your voice... I groan beginning to feel the beginnings of the cramps, I need to release myself.. I moan pitifully begging you as best I can to release me so I may relieve myself. but you pat the buttplug snugly in place and begin to work two fingers in and out of my pussy You stop and then lead me over to what feels to my groping hands like the toilet bowl... you make me bend over as you slowly work the buttplug out of my ass... 

I moan and rush to sit on the seat as soon as it pops.. and I realise you are in the room with me and I try to motion for you to leave, trying to keep it in... But I can't and to my complete and utter humiliation, the enema does its job. I'm blushing bright red as I try to grope for the toilet paper to clean myself and to flush the toilet but I feel you near me, and you flush the toilet , you don't clean me up ,, you help me back in the tub and you turn the shower on , washing my back and ass gently... probing it every now and then.. 

There .. now you are ready ... you help me out of the toilet and into the bedroom... you tell me you've laid out some nice things for me to wear for this training session out on the bed... I can't see them .. so you assist me.. The first item you slip into my hands are a pair of long arm length satin gloves... You slip them on me, and they muffle my sense of touch.. then you slip a leather harness with chains around my body , I feel the chains caress my bare breasts as you clasp the straps of the harness to my collar. A single strand of leather is passed between my legs and looped up to fasten to the back of the harness like a g that rubs gently against my wet pussy And then you slip push me gently back on the bed, removing my heels, you slip a pair of crotchless panty hose over each of my legs covering them in stocking... and you slip my heels back on again.... On my ankles you place ankle cuffs made of thick padded leather for some of the suspension we do, you do the same for my wrists. each of these cuffs come with an o ring as well... we have a four poster bed, you gently lead me to the front of the bed and slip the rings on the hooks and latches we have there so that I am spread eagled vertically infront of you facing the headboard. 

now.. what if we got someone to watch you as you are being trained? my mind reels again and I panic and moan . I hear the door open and you seem to be talking to someone... I hear the bed creak and then you introduce me as your errant wife I blush crimson convinced someone is watching me and lying on our bed You start to caress my bare buttocks with glove covered hands, leather gloves... the sensation sends me into a deep state as I twitch and flex under your touch , trying to behave myself infront of our guest , and then you slip nipple clamps over my nipples.. I groan drooling some more in the process, they are y clamps attached to a long chain.. and I feel them pull forward "We're giving them to our guest for his amusement pet" you say , I turn towards the sound of your voice and I feel my nipples being tugged sharply , I groan.. and feel you again at the back of me gently stroking my bare bum with the caresses of your leather gloved hands. and then you being to smack me gently as you caress my clit , the stranger tugging at the clamps on my nipples .. You'd caress me till I'm almost on the verge of cumming , and then you'd stop as the stranger would yank on the nipple clamps and all I can do is cry out for release, groaning like an animal… We do several rounds of this , and then you tug against the thong of leather between my legs slipping it up my crack .. rubbing the leather against my wet mound.. I whimper so desperate to cum… you unfasten the piece of leather and begin to caress my backside with your Dick. I groan feeling you against the heat of my punished cheeks

I cry out as you begin to enter me in my ass, holding my hips firmly against you …

I feel embarrassed as I am made aware of the stranger presence in our activities by the tug on my nipples.. and you continue to fuck me .. and all I can do is twist and cum under you till you begin to shake with your climax You draw ragged breaths as you anchor me against yourself and I slump on my restraints, pumping your hot seed deep into my backside.. you slowly withdraw from me and release me from my bonds… rubbing feeling back into my wrist as I slump on my bed.. realising that really there was no one there… you gently lick my nipples and cuddle me close.. Id like to cry but find myself unable to against the duct tape, you gently stroke my hair , wiping my hot body gently with a cold wet cloth… 

After we've rested for some minutes, you sit me up and clean me up .. still not removing my blind fold... "We're going out" you say … And my hands move up to undo the duct , 

"Uh uh"

My hands fall back to my sides, and you dress me, in another shirt of yours that you slip over me after removing the leather harness, no bra and you slip me into my jeans , with no knickers. We're going shopping love I smile it's the first time today you call me love and I take a little comfort in that , strangely you sit me down and put a dressing over the duct tape making my blindfold look like I had major eye surgery *How ingenious* I think to myself. 

And I stumble after you , no longer in high heels but comfortable pumps for walking in … The last thing you take off me before we exit the door of our house is the bit in my mouth , and I flex my jaws in relief, still I haven't been given permission to speak you kiss me and I return the kiss in passion and ardor having missed the comfort of your lips and reassurance of your kisses I am so glad to feel them again 

we go to the supermarket , I can tell because of all the announcements coming over the intercom and you never leave my side. always guiding my direction with an arm firmly anchored around my waist .. I'm still not allowed to speak and haven't gotten into that habit of saying anything either somehow it feels strange to hear my own voice again as you ask me what I think of a certain cheese that I have to smell and feel.. you pick up a rose and you touch it to my face softly .. 

you've bought some dinner, wine and cheese and some candles and I smile as you take my hand and our packages and we go wondering into a lingerie store.. you hold up a silk chemise to my cheek and ask me if I like the feel of it I nod and say yes very much..

I can only guess that the clerk is looking at the two of us and feeling sorry for me but inside I am laughing as I hear you paying for the purchase… 

the minute we step back into the house, you simply leave me standing in the doorway (with the door shut) and set off to chill the wine and get dinner started you return for me shortly and undress me then and there, you unwrap the parcel we got from the lingerie department and you slip the chemise on me, then very very gently you begin to unwrap the dressing and remove the duct tape.. 


A Day



Edward shifted his weight onto his left foot and leaned a bit, flexing the toes of his right foot as he let the padded cuff on his right wrist take a bit of his weight. He had stood for only about an hour now and knew the discomfort now was only a mild hint of what he would feel over the next six, perhaps seven hours.

The dark basement had been specifically designed for this, with the wrist restraints securely anchored in the rough hewn floor beam above his head. The basement floor had several holes drilled in where eye bolts could be fastened, if ankle restraint was needed. Along one of the concrete walls, some pegboard paneling had been furred out upon which hung a wide assortment of tools and a number of odd toys.

Slicing diagonally across the panels was a spreader bar Edward had hoped to experience sometime soon. There were a number of other tools that had promise, but before he could think of any of these devices, he had to endure the day.

Edward shivered a bit in the cold, knowing it would warm a little through the day, not enough to prevent goose bumps from covering his naked body from time to time, but enough to keep him out of any danger.

Shifting his weight again, he let his mind drift a bit, thinking of his wife. He pictured her, sitting in a chair looking upon him as he kneeled in front of her. Savoring the image of her naked body before him, her breasts, sagging a bit, her nipples pointing downward, an angle perfect for him. If he pleased her, she'd let him crawl between her legs, where he could raise himself up and take her nipples in her mouth, suckling her.

If he was lucky then, his wife would open her legs wider and lean back on her chair as she guided his face toward the beautiful lips, the curly hair and the glistening opening. He'd slip his tongue into her pussy as he breathed deeply, relishing her pungent fragrance and tart flavor. After tasting her he'd move upward to her clit, letting his tongue move slowly up her slit, teasing her a bit in the hope of intensifying her sensation.

Sometimes she came quickly, but other times, she tried his endurance, drawing him to her, demanding his attention for minutes, occasionally for hours. While it was exciting to see her come quickly, Edward actually enjoyed being forced to endure the aching jaw, the numb lips and the strained tongue he experience d in their longer sessions.

If Edward was good, his wife would reward him for her orgasm by pushing him onto his back and crawling over him. She'd lower herself onto his erection and move over him in a slow and steady pace. Grinding her clit upon him, she'd come quickly and then, only then she'd whisper to him, "Come for me."

Feeling his erection twitch at the thought of that command, Edward shifted his weight once again, encouraging himself with the thought that she would return home from work in about 3 more hours. He smiled, knowing she'll be pleased with his endurance and devotion to her.

Of course there were occasions she needed more from him, needed him to submit to more from her. Looking to the wall with pride, he focused on her cat, the leather strap that split into the individual heads. She'd mark him with each stroke, bright welts that she could later sooth with her assortment of creams.

She also had a crop that she loved to snap onto his thighs and across his cock. Just the sound of it ignited Edward, and if he endured the crop in a manner that excited her, sometimes she'd actually kneel and take him in her mouth. Imagining her sucking his cock as he stands, his hands restrained to the beam, brought another erection. Glancing at the clock Edward saw that his wife should be returning soon so he continued thinking of her, her mouth on him, her hands stoking the welts on his thighs.

He could hear the door opening upstairs and the sound of her footsteps on the floor was now enough for him to maintain his erection. His breath quickened as she he heard the door to the basement open. Her shadow rolled down the stairs, moving with each step as she slowly descended to him. Feeling his hands begin to tremble he stood up straight, his arms and legs spread wide, presenting his erection for her pleasure. Looking to her as she entered the room, he prayed to himself that she'd be pleased with him this day. 



A Day and a Night in The Sun



The Cayman Islands were so beautiful this time of year, and the weather was really perfect. Much better than in the heat and humidity of the summer. Or so Christina had been told by the hotel staff, anyway. The weather was great, true...a nice cool breeze came in right off that perfect azure-blue glassy sea, and it blew through her hair as she sat quietly at the outdoor hotel bar. The bar was typical for an island resort; covered only by a thatched bamboo-and-palm roof, but otherwise totally open, it sat right on the edge of the sand. But, it seemed, that the other thing about coming to the Cayman's during this time of year was that it was dead as a doornail.

She looked around the big bar area. On a hoppin' night, this place probably could hold two hundred party-mad souls. Tonight, it held two. Well, two, other than Christina. They were a couple sitting alone together at a table in the middle of the big sunken floor, and they had eyes for no one but each other. Probably honeymooners, she thought, or at least two people madly in lust. She sighed. She sipped without much interest at her Mai Tai.

I mean it was early, just like 7:00 or so, but this was ridiculous. And Kelly, her roommate, would be of no help tonight; she had found an 18-year-old Dutch girl that afternoon out on the beach, and they disappeared at like 5. Christina knew that Kelly would be munching happily throughout the night.... she knew that this one was a "keeper", one that Kelly wanted for herself, at least for the night. Maybe she'd bring her 'home' tomorrow, but not tonight. So, tonight she was on her own, and nothing at all was happening here. She guessed she'd probably order some food at the bar, down maybe another Mai Tai, then take a cab into the city. The clubs had to be hotter than this. Anything had to be hotter than this. Heck, Cayman TV in the bungalow was hotter than this.

"An Appletini, please," she heard the soft, sultry voice say from next to her.

Christina didn't turn to look at the woman at first, because she didn't believe her ears. She just stared straight ahead like a deer caught in headlights, and waited to hear more words. The bartender mixed the Appletini, and when he gave it to the woman, she heard her say, "Thanks very much".

It was the voice.

Her voice.

Turning slowly, Christina looked to her left. The woman was in profile. Those lips...those full, pouty lips that every single man and woman on Earth wanted to kiss...those lips were now giving their sacred blessings to the martini glass. That was the luckiest glass on Earth. If only Christina were that glass right now.

The woman turned toward Christina, still sipping her 'tini. She set the glass down...and those lips that everyone would die to have touching them....those lips smiled utterly warmly at her.

"Hi," the woman (whose first name Christina believed to be Angella) said to her.

Christina swallowed hard. Her eyes blinked rapidly. She looked around the room to see if there was anyone else there. Just the couple, and they too were staring at the movie star. So, that proved that Christina hadn't lost her mind. THAT Angella really was sitting right next to her. And she'd just said hi. And Christina was still just...gaping. 

Angella's eyebrows lifted, as if to say, "...and...?"

Christina coughed, then mumbled, "Um, oh, yea, sorry! I mean, hi!"

If it wouldn't have made her look even stupider, she would have smacked herself in her forehead.

Angella chuckled a little, and took another sip of her drink.

Christina said, "Um." Like it was a whole sentence, filled with meaning.

Angella chuckled again, and said, "So true, so true."

At that Christina broke down and laughed, and so did Angella. Wow. What a woman. Not just to look at either. What a woman.

"It's really quiet here," she said to Christina.

"Yea, I know, crazy quiet," Christina said. "I was thinking of just having some quick food and then going into town to see if there's a club that is hoppin."

"Oh, don't do that," she replied, "then I'd have no one at all to talk to."

Christina gulped. "Err, no, then, right, I won't do that." She grabbed her Mai Tai and drained the remaining half. Before she could say anything, Angrelina said, "Please get this sweet girl another of whatever she is having."

The bartender smiled and said, "Yes, miss."

When the fresh Mai Tai came to her, Christina said, "Thanks," and sipped it and almost gasped. It seems the bartender had stiffened this one...a lot! She took a deeper sip, and made a little face.

Those magic lips smiled at her, and said, "Good?"

"Uh, yea. They make them really...good...here," Christina replied. She tried to marshal her forces, and get her head back in the game. So, she said, "So, do you come here often?" And then she wanted to whack herself in the head instead.

Angella laughed while sipping her drink, and Appletini sprayed out of her nose. She was grabbing a napkin and her eyes were watering when Christina gave her another bunch of napkins and said, "Sorry, sorry," she was laughing too. "Sorry, I just meant, like, is this one of your regular places or something and that's why you are here. That's what I meant!"

Wiping laughter-tears from her eyes, she replied, "No, it's not. I came here for a photoshoot just today, and tomorrow I leave to go back to the hubby and the kids."

Wow. The hubby and the kids. Wow.

Angella, recovering, said smiling wryly, "How about you? Do you come here often?" 

Christina blushed. "Oh, no. First time. I'm here with my roommate Kelly."

"A roommate, a Girl friend, or a girlfriend?" Angella asked.

"Oh, all those. Sortof. We have an open relationship. We're like, more-than-best-friends with lots and lots of benefits."

She smiled. "Nice. Where is she?"

"She found a cute lil Dutch girl today on the beach. They are out playing."

"So, you're on your own tonight?"

Christina nodded. "Yep. But I betcha, as much fun as she's having right now, bet she's gonna wish she stayed!"

Now Angella blushed a little. To see a woman like that blush. Unbelievable.

"Well, I'm glad I stayed. I could have taken the late plane out, but I just didn't want to be rushed. I wanted to relax. Looks like I picked the perfect place."

Christina looked around, "Yea, there's nothing more relaxing than this place."

She laughed again, "That's not why I'm glad I stayed." And she looked Christina straight in her eyes.

Christina really, really wanted to look all around her again to make sure she wasn't looking at someone else when she said that, but she didn't. She just kept looking back at those gorgeous eyes that you could almost go swimming in, and you sure could get lost in. She was trying to figure out if Angella meant...

"Um," Christina said, trying to be a little smooth, "So, you and your...husband... you know, you two..."

Angella said, "We don't have an open relationship like you and your girl. But I get a little freedom."

"Like, what kind of freedom?"

She kept staring at Christina and she said, almost during mid-sip, "Girls. Only with girls."

That took Christina's breath away, and sent a massive jolt straight to her pussy. This was surreal.

"I, I didn't think you...you know, did that kind of stuff anymore."

"Well," she replied, "I do have kids and I'm obviously very well known. So, I have to be very, very discreet. But underneath the mommy and the movie star, the same wild child still lives on."

"Wow," Christina shook her head. "I can't believe you're telling me this. Aren't you afraid I'll like, tell the National Enquirer or something."

"No," she said matter of factly. "For two reasons. One, if you did, I just wouldn't respond, wouldn't dignify the statement with a reply of any kind. People write shit about me all the time. The surest way to get people to pay attention to it is to respond to it. I just ignore it. Second, I'm sure you've felt like you know someone, before you really know them, yes? Something about them just totally clicks with you inside?"

"Yes, sure."

"Well, that's the way I feel about you. When you looked at me, I could just tell that the last thing in the entire world you would want to happen is to hurt me in any way. Am I right?"

Christina gulped again, really hard, and felt her heart melting into a puddle. "Yes. Never in a million years."

"See," Angella said, shrugging her shoulders. "Am I a good judge of character or what?" With that, she reached over, and for just a second, held Christina's hand. Not long enough for the bartender or the couple to get suspicious, but nonetheless the touch was like a bolt of electricity going straight to Christina's heart after being routed directly through her pussy. Her nipples started to get hard, and that could be kind of embarrassing...Christina's breasts were very VERY full, and her nipples being hard was something people could actually see from outer space.

"You are," Christina said, trying to remain calm. She chugged down about half of her nuclear Mai Tai.

Angella's smile had warmed even more, but her eyes had gotten...smoky? Sultry? Oh, oh.

"You said you wanted dinner, right? I have a second bungalow, right on the water, that I rented under a totally different name. It's number 3. Why don't you meet me there in an hour. I'll order lobster and Cristal from room service. We can eat in."

Christina nodded dumbly, and finished the whole rest of her drink. Angella finished her Appletini, smiled, winked, and swayed her hips off into the distance. Christina was still just staring at that perfect ass until it was gone from her view, then she kept staring at it in her mind long after it was gone. She absolutely could not believe that this was happening. 

"One for the road," she told the bartender, and she thought about what she was going to do in the next hour. For one thing, she was going to try not to have an orgasm just yet. If that was really, really going to happen, she wanted it to happen...with her. Her mind raced, running through all of her sexiest clothes in her mind, that would both emphasize her spectacular boobs without giving them away too early. She also needed a shower, and proper touch-up shaving and lotion in all the right places. 

When the drink arrived, she picked it up and was sipping on it fairly madly as she wandered out of the bar toward her room.

* * *

Dressed to the nines, smelling like heaven (in this case, Perfect 10 Perfume), feeling like she was there too, Christina knocked on the door of Bungalow Number 3.

The door opened.

Christina stepped in to what could have only been a dream under any other circumstances.

Angella was dressed only in a black satin kimono-type bathrobe. All around the room were dozens and dozens of candles, and no other light.

In the middle of the room was a low, small table, set with white linen, and on it, two plates with deep dishes, split-open lobsters that must have weighed two pounds or more each, and two bottles of Louis Roederer Cristal Champagne and two glasses filled with it. A single deep red rose in full bloom sat between the plates, and beside each, a red candle gleaming. The six-speaker sound-system was gently playing the most beautiful, romantic music she had ever heard...Spanish New Age, it seemed, with violins, synthesizers, a cello, and the most soft-voiced woman singing words she could only imagine the meaning of.

"Oh my god," Christina breathed.

Angella smiled, sauntering back to one side of the table, low enough that only cushions were needed to settle down on.

"Sweetheart," she said, "why don't you go into the bathroom. There is another robe. You'll be more comfortable."

As if in a dream Christina went to the bathroom, stripped naked and put on a white satin kimono, and nothing else. She almost stumbled back out to take her seat in her cushions across from...from...the most beautiful woman who had ever existed. If that was an exaggeration in any way, it didn't feel like that to Christina right now.

Angella picked up her glass, and said, "To you, my princess."

Christina picked her glass up and clinked it and just stammered, "Thanks."

They ate then, and talked. And drank. The lobsters were so huge that neither of them could finish them, though they were perfect and tender, smothered in so much European lemon-butter that they were almost drowned in it. They laughed, they smiled. The sound of the gentle ocean waves came in from the open deck door, and the sweet smell of it too, mixing with their smells, the smell of the food, and their perfumes. 

One bottle of Roederer down, the second one opened, they finished the lobster, and Angella took Christina by the hand to the deck. There, clasped both hand-in-hand, and hand-across-waist, they watched the little crisp white tips of quiet waves roll blue-ly beneath the floodlights of the resort, and beneath the gentle silver cascading light of the crescent-moon. In the sky, in addition to the sweet sliver-of-moon, a perfect starscape watched down on them and seemed to smile.

And Angella leaned over to Christina's face, and those two lips caught each other, just so tender and small at first. Christina's heart, pussy and body had long since melted under the constant warmth, sweetness, and beauty of her host. So this kiss did not catch electric fire. That fire had long ago been lit, and this kiss was just kindling, just the best fuel.

And the kiss went on and on. Christina never even thought to stop it, or to move her hands anywhere, or to do any of the things she normally would have when a girl like this was within her reach. She did nothing. Oh, her lips were not passive...every supple kiss, every slip of the tongue, Christina responded to in kind, and she launched her own. In Angella's mouth, Christina had somehow found her home, at least for now. If the entire world ended during that long, long kiss, Christina felt that would be OK. This was...the best kiss...the best moment in all her life.

But Angella was not to let it just remain a moment frozen in time. She let it freeze for probably thirty minutes or more, which was still an epically long kiss, but then Angella's hands went down to grasp Christina's butt cheeks. Her kisses got hungrier. Christina could take a hint...and she responded.

Each wrapped a bare thigh around the other as the clasped each other and that perfect romantic kiss became the realm of high heat and massive lust.

Angella did it first. In the shimmering moonlight of the Cayman sky, she just pulled the robe down off of Christina's shoulders, exposing her bare breasts.

"My God," Angella breathed, and she didn't stop for any other observations. Her mouth found those large, full nipples like she had been built to have them in her mouth. Her other hand came around and grasped the other miracle-of-God's manufacture, and she hungrily and greedily switched between each breast like she was going crazy, and wanted somehow to try to fit those gigantic, perfect swells into her mouth, in their entirety, at the same time. Angella's lips and tongue did not just cover the perfect nipples, no, they made sure to cover every inch of the sizable area of Christina's perfect breasts. Christina had felt this kind of hunger for her chest before...but never so well executed, and never from...never from....never...from....

But the lips chose not to stop there. Angella, for all that desire, seemed to have a higher level of desire for...what was lower.

She pushed Christina against the railing of the deck, so that Christina's back was to the now deep-blue-sea. And she ripped open the kimono, and tore it off. Christina's perfect nakedness was now bare to the elements, to the Gods of the Sea and Sky, to the Moon in its infinite wisdom, and to the ministrations of this unbearably hungry woman before her.

When the lips of Angella...the lips that could surely have launched a million ships if Helen of Troy had launched a mere thousand...the lips that every man on Earth, and every even slightly flexible woman...the lips that all by themselves seemed to be proof of God...when those lips met Christina's pussy...it was, in an instant, over, and just begun.

She experienced in that first pussy-kiss one of her own very rare equivalents to male "premature ejaculation". Christina came just from having those lips touch her! The touch was so electric, so powerful, and right now, in this moment, meant so much, that she just unashamedly shuddered and shook and shouted from the sweet perfect upper lips of Angella doing nothing but surrounding her lower-lips.

Angella didn't care. She waited for the shuddering to subside, kissing Christina's inner thighs while it lasted, then she just returned to what she wanted. Which was, with fervor, to feast on Christina's pussy, in a pussy-hunger that Christina knew herself, but could not imagine ever that Angella would have, let alone, have for Christina's pussy.

But, thankfully, here, under the immaculate Cayman moon, there was nothing to separate such hungers. Angella's tongue drove into Christina's pussy like there was treasure buried there, her mouth suckled in her labia minora as if they were honeysuckle flowers, her whole mouth surrounded and inhaled Christina's entire Mons as if by trying to bring the whole of it into her mouth, it would somehow flow down into her soul. And perhaps, then, as Angella's entire mouth was locked in a suction-vice around Christina's entire pussy...maybe it was just then, if it hadn't been before, that indeed Christina felt her entire soul get sucked into Angella's. Not Angella's mouth. The mouth is just a vehicle for the soul. And Christina's had now become, for what it was worth or what it meant, one with this perfect woman who had chosen her on just this night.

Christina's orgasm then was, to say the least, cosmic. 

There are many kinds of orgasms.

There are the quickies, the masturbatory, the G-spot, the vaginal, the deep-vaginal, the anal, the multiple, the supper-shudder, the unexpected, the transitory, the partial pass-out, and the rare Epic. Oh, and the nearly-never-felt-but-once-in-a-lifetime-by-anyone, Beyond-Epic. Christina had only heard rumors of that last one. She'd worked tons though on trying to find it!

This one, this orgasm, from Angella's mouth sucking Christina's whole pussy in, while Angella's tongue danced a river-dance over-across-and-under Christina's clit while the Cayman moon sparkled down on tem both...that brought on the rare and nearly unheard of Epic Orgasm in Christina. Not quite Beyond-Epic, but it was the best orgasm she'd ever had.

The voice she yelled out in was not one she could ever have duplicated or faked. Christina howled into the moon as if the moon were her lover, her rhythmic pulsing sounds from her throat not guttural at all like many orgasm noises. No, somehow...this was like music. Night music. Like the baying of millions of wolves all across the world, to the same symphony of beats.

Only Angella's strong hands on Christina's hips, and Christina's own hands, as shaky as they were, on the balcony, kept her form just collapsing.

When the howling ended, Angella came up and said, "Well, if nothing else, that was the most beautiful orgasm I have ever heard."

Christina looked at her, and tore Angella's robe off in a second, spun her around without question, and she did not stop at those perfect breasts. She wanted to. She saw them as she dipped down to her knees, and thought, "I should just suck those until I die," but she decided that tonight, if the asteroid that ended the world were to hit Earth right now, she wanted it to be when her mouth was on Angella's pussy. She didn't want to give that up for a second. If the Earth was not destroyed within the next few minutes or hours, Christina would go back to Angella's tits...hell, she planned to go back to literally every single square inch of Angella's body. If she really was granted the time, no part of Angella would end up anywhere but in Christina's mouth by the time the night ended.




A Day and a Night in The Sun



But for now...pussy.

The smell almost immediately gave her an orgasm again. She actually shuddered, and had a minigasm just from Angella's smell. Christina's mouth filled with so much saliva from mouthwatering, that it was easy to just cover Angella's pussy with it.

Those lips...they were a little darker in color than the rest of her. Christina had always felt that Angella had maybe some Mediterranean or something in her. The edges of the small lips were dark-tinted. Like gentle Greek olives left in the sun. Christina's tongue darted left and right, thigh to thigh, then down to the dark-tinted taint. Her tongue dipped a teeny bit into the dark-haloed anus, then slowly trailed up to the base, her tongue then dividing the lips. Tentative at first, then at deeper and fuller command, she pressed her tongue into the folds of Angella's pussy, and she met, understandably, with the most perfect flavor she'd ever tasted. That she tasted deeper and deeper till her tongue could get no more.

Then she traveled up, found the sweet clitoris of the most beautiful girl on Earth, and she at first teased it, then at last, supped on it, like there was no other food on the planet. Tongue circled under, over, sucking, spreading the hood, tongue dipping into the 'cave' where her clit hid, to see if it was one that could stand a direct tongue. It could. Like any clit, it bucked both to and away from such direct contact, but in-and-out, out-and-around, swirl, taste, fill, suck, suckle, in-and-out-and-on-and-around.

When Angella came on Christina's tongue, it was as if it was some kind of gift. Christina greeted it with a sigh, as if she herself had cum.

Out there, on the deck, under the perfect moonlight, with the sweet scent of the ocean flowing past them, and the gentle sound of the soft waves crashing behind them, they both fell to the deck, clasped each other together, and kissed deeply. Later, they almost stumbled inside, to the bedroom.

They interlocked legs, and kept kissing, then Christina decided that the world had not yet come to an end, therefore, there might be enough time left to suck on those perfect breasts...so she did. She nibbled down Angella's throat, buried her tongue in the hollow of her neck, angel-kissed down her cleavage, then angel-kissed right up the side of her left breast. When her mouth found that dark brown nipple, it was hard and nicely thick. Perfect for pulling deep into her mouth, and for running her tongue around it in lazy circles. She nibbled it gently, not too hard, but enough to make Angella cry out just a little and arch her back...which was just what Christina wanted.

Christina took one hand and put it up into Angella's long, soft hair and she pulled on it, arching her back even more, while with the other hand, she slid it down that smooth, perfect belly until she could palm Angella's wet sex. She rubbed slowly, continuing her nipple-feast, but switching from breast to breast now and again, while her fingers dipped inside the soft petals of Angella's pussy. She started slow, not going too deep, keeping the Angella's clit between her two middle fingers as she slid them up-and-down, in-and-out of her pussy. Angella was now moaning like mad, and squirming, and Christina just pulled harder on her hair to keep her whole body arched against her.

She came in a wave, throbbing to the sensations in her nipples, clit and pussy. When Angella stopped shaking, her eyes unglazed from the after-cum glow, and got very hot and erotic again. She grabbed Christina by the arms and threw her back against the bed, and then with a devious look on her face, started kissing her way down Christina's chest and belly. When her face arrived at Christina's pussy, Angella smiled and gave it a tender kiss.

Then she parted Christina's little lips with both her hands, then put one finger into Christina's pussy, and started working it in and out while she just kissed her clit. She wasn't sucking it, just kissing it. Then two fingers went in. Then three. Christina was squirming, moaning softly. A fourth finger went in. And Christina felt the four of them widening her up to the knuckles, and she groaned a deep, guttural sound, and her hips were grinding side to side against Angella's fingers.

The Christina felt Angella's thumb slip in, widening her further. And she felt Angella still pushing in. Christina kinda stiffened a little.

Angella kept kissing her clit, and she whispered, "Shhh, shhh, baby. Let go. Just let go."

Christina relaxed into the bed, and opened herself, and just trusted this beautiful, perfect woman.

Angella just kept working the 5 fingers in and out, going a little deeper each time, rotating them in a back and forth circle. Christina was certainly helping out, because she was virtually gushing pussy lube all over those sweet fingers. 

"Ahhhhhh," Christina yelped, arching her own back high as she felt the fingers slip into her past the knuckles...and felt Angella's whole hand slide past her, until her pussy firmly gripped Angella's wrist, and Christina felt that whole hand in her, still rotating, twisting, moving just a little in and out.

Christina lost her mind completely at this point. There was nothing at all going on in her brain. She had just become pussy-and-Angella's fist balled up inside her, moving side to side, going in and out, the fingers unflexing to rub her G-Spot, then closing again to form the world's biggest simulated cock-head. Christina's mouth was opening and closing and sounds like growls were coming out of her, while her hips, no longer in her control, were now bearing down on that fist of their own volition, actually fucking Angella's hand back. She felt it go even a little deeper, it was going past the wrist, and she was now thrashing her head side to side, her hands clenching the sheets so tightly that they were being virtually pulled up off the bed, her hips pumping against Angella's fist like it was her only hope of survival.

Then she actually screamed when she came. Her vaginal contractions were so hard they clamped down on Angella's fist and absolutely wouldn't let it leave under any condition. She spasmed, screaming with every powerful earthquake of orgasm, and not just in her pussy at all, but she felt like her entire body was having an orgasm. As she gasped, her eyes closed tight, she started to see shooting stars on the insides of her eyelids, and as the waves started to subside, she actually lost consciousness for a few seconds.

That turned out t be good, because her pussy muscles stopped squeezing Angella's hand for everything they were worth, and that allowed Angella to slowly pull her fist out of Christina's swollen, hot, absolutely dripping pussy.

Angella joined her back up at the top of the bed, smiling. Christina's eyes were completely unfocused, and she was still breathing so hard she couldn't speak. That was, without a doubt, the legendary but never-felt before Beyond Epic Orgasm. No wonder what all the fuss was about.

"You ok?" Angella asked, kissing her mouth gently.

Christina just nodded. She still couldn't say anything. Her pussy, though mighty sore, also felt mighty empty. She couldn't believe it, but she actually thought for a moment about asking Angella to put it back in, to make the emptiness go away, then she thought better of it, as she was fairly certain that another orgasm like that would kill her. True, though, "what a way to go."

Both wanted a lifetime of sex there, but they both were now beautifully exhausted and they found instead the warmth of each other's arms, their nakedness intertwined, and constant kissing with their eyes locked dreamily on each others, until at last, late into the night, both fell asleep, one leg of each wrapped over the other, and both face-to-face.

* * *

The light from the Cayman sun started to bleed up into the room, still full of the scent of candles, sweet sweat and sex.

The light slowly awakened the two of them.

"I don't think this is fair," Christina whispered, her eyes welling with tears, knowing the dawn would bring an end to this miracle of a night. They were still cuddled together as they had been at that last moment, legs wrapped about each other, bodies intertwined, face-to-face.

"What isn't fair," Angella asked back into Christina's lips, "my sweet princess?"

Christina choked back her answer. "To fall in love with someone over- night. It's not fair."

Angella smiled, brushed Christina's hair back, and kissed her on the forehead. "Are you kidding? That happens all the time, precious. It is what is. It is life."

"But it isn't fair," Christina said again.

Kissing Christina's lips tenderly, Angella said, "I know. And I should know. After all, it just happened to me last night."



A Day & Then A Night In Schendi



(based on the Gor fiction of John Norman)

The Slavers of the great port of Schendi threw a festival for the whole city, on the occasion of the groundbreaking for their new library cylinder.

Even before the Sky was streaked by rosy-fingered Dawn, on the cleared land where the Slaver library would one day stand, a good many stalls were set up to provide free food and drink. Musicians roamed the grounds playing tunes, acrobats leapt and tumbled. Mimes mimed. For those in the mood for a match of the Game, complete sets of Kaissa pieces could be gotten free from most concession stalls, along with a heavy-rence paper game board of tan and brown squares. Citizens, of all ages and all alike in their party mood, began to gather early. There was even the highly unusual sight of a black-robed member of the Assassin Caste within the throng of merry-makers.

There were several pagar kajira alcove-tipis erected for the carnal-minded. Even as the small tents were being staked and the leashed slave girls installed, lines had begun to form in front of the tipis' open flaps. The queues were made up mostly of adolescent males, young bachelors who weren't about to turn down the chance of a rut gratis with a lively kajira. Young maids strolling by in their fluttering Robes of Concealment and veils blushed furiously at the loud and lewd sounds of raw passion emanating from the long row of tipis. Older Free women, somewhat more wise to the order of the things, laughed derisively at the eager, randy youths.

Matronly amusement aside, it was, perhaps, too much to expect that any healthy Gorean male just into his first full flush of manhood could pass up the chance of furring a lively and willing pleasure silk-clad slave girl.

Even in a city such as Schendi, with an extensive Street of Brands district and above average slave population, a young man was unlikely to know the charms of a pleasure kajira, if he weren't the son of a rich house or born into a slaver family. Although the price of a good hunting sleen was many times the price of the average slave girl, owning a kolar'd slut was still an expensive proposition. Even paying for a coin-girl was beyond the normal means of the average young man just growing hair on his chin and looking to make his way in the world.

And the free sex tipis served a greater purpose than merely providing relief to aroused young men, the cultural practice all but eliminated sex-crimes on Gor. 

To the delighted, if guarded, surprise of everyone, the Sun shone golden bright in a cloudless Sky on the day of the official groundbreaking for the new Slaver's cylinder. In the sub-equatorial city of Schendi it was mid-winter, technically speaking. And in winter in Schendi it constantly rained. 

While it was definitely calendar winter just below the equator, it is understandable that visiting inhabitants of Gor's more temperate zones might take Schendi's hot and humid weather to be that of high summer. But the million or so permanent inhabitants of the great port city knew better. It was winter all right. A native of the region could tell the season by the tremendous amount of rainfall which sheeted into the surrounding jungle, pelted on the rooftops of the city, and flooded the flagstone boulevards and cobblestone streets.

Of course, it rained a great deal in the summer in Schendi as well, more in fact than during the so-called dry season of winter. 

But, as has been stated, against all reasonable expectation, Lor-Torvis shone unchallenged on the ground-breaking festivities. It was as if the Central Fire itself graced the event. And, the commencement of the building of the grand new library/school was significant. It marked the public ascension of the Slaver Caste as a real power in Schendi, rivaled only by the fabulously wealthy and global influencial Merchant Caste of the freeport city-state. 

The Assassin, a black dagger clearly tattooed on his sunburned forehead, moved smoothly through the assembled masses. A sleen in the fold. He brushed past a haruspex, a soothsayer who was working the crowd. The wide-eyed fortune teller shuddered at the passage of the night-garbed killer and gave a raspy whisper.

"Death." 

At the center of the two city blocks of cleared land, Builders had erected a platform, its floor three feet off the ground. On this stage stood the Administrator of Schendi, of the Merchant Caste, and twelve others, the rulers of the families which comprised the city's Slaver oligarchy. Set atop high white poles, surrounding the platform, long silken banners streamed and snapped in the persistent offshore breeze. There were thirteen pendants in all which waved above the crowd, twelve of them were of blue and yellow and each bore the emblem of a great slaver house, from the howling Jit-Monkey of the Ushanga family to the stylized Ul of the Dhahabu clan. One pennant displayed the emblem of Schendi herself, the Scimitar of Discipline and Shackles. 

But the Assassin, who surveyed the scene with the alert raptor gaze of a circling tarn, knew that by all rights there should have been another flag among the collection, the cross-bones and skull ensign of the League of Black Slavers.

It was the Black Slavers, after all, who were footing the entire bill for both the festival and the erection of the Slaver cylinder. This was an open-secret within the city. But, the Assassin noted with a small grin on his cowl obscured face that it wasn't the First-Captain of the League who hosted the event, it was the City Administrator. 

Here, too, there was irony.

Until the very recent past, the Merchant Caste had been considered inferior by the High Castes of Gor. However, with the widespread and growing acceptance of codified Merchant trade law the Merchants had grown into the richest of all the castes, far outstriping the Scribes, Warriors, and Physicians. As the keepers of the only international law ever enacted on the world, Merchants had also risen to be the highest de facto caste, if judged on the amount of economic and political influence they wielded. They held the fate of entire cities in their hands and everyone knew their collective power would only grow with the coming years.

Yet, as the Merchants had been reviled in times past, they in their turn looked down upon the Slaver Caste. Indeed, Merchants considered Slavers nothing more than a sub-caste of their own. The Slavers disagreed. According to Slaver history, Schendi had been founded by slavers. Merchants had come to the port only after it'd been safely settled and the threat of attack by rain-forest tribes neutralized. In Schendi, unlike anywhere else on Gor, there were Slaver families as rich as Merchants.

Needless to say, there was a certain cultural tension between the two castes within the city-state. The presence of the Administrator was a sign of how significant was the Slaver project. His presence further attested to the rising power of the Slavers, that a Merchant was compelled to give his implicit blessing to a rival caste enterprise, a cylinder which would rise one level higher than the Merchant's own high-rise. 

If the Merchants were uncomfortable with their relationship with the city Slaver Caste, their relationship with the League was far more complex. The Assassin knew, as well as the Administrator, that Black Ox himself, First-Captain of the League of Black Slavers, was the library's real sponsor.

The League, with it's eleven ship fleet, kept Schendi's sea-lanes clear of competing pirate bands throughout the year. With its year-round plundering, north and south of the Equator, the Black Slavers constantly pumped revenue into the port city's economy. Also with its looted riches, the League fattened the assets of the banking houses on the Street of Coins, not to mention their various business concerns and real-estate holdings throughout the city. 

For example, the cleared land where the festival was being held had once been host to row upon row of Black Slaver owned insulae. Insulae, what on Earth would be called residential hotels, were shabbily build wooden structures meant to generate maximum profit with minimum upkeep. But the thing about insulae was that they were candle and oil-lamp lit and they tended to burn down fairly frequently. For three-hundred and fifty years the League had owned the insulae, rebuilding each shabby tenement time after time through the years. But, after the last fire, which had nearly consumed the entire two blocks of insulae, Black Ox had decided to dedicate the land, in the heart of the Street of Brands District, to the library.

Whereas most ill-informed outsiders assumed Schendi tolerated the League, either out of fear or because of the indirect protection it gained from sheltering the depredators, the truth was Black Slaver money was a good part of the riches to be found in Schendi. Far from being a necessary evil, the League of Black Slavers was a full partner in the fortunes of the city and had been for uncounted centuries. One needed to merely consider the fact that wealthy Schendi had neither a standing army nor navy, yet the freeport had never been attacked.

It wasn't the Merchants who would-be raiders feared. It was fighting the green ships of the League which jellied their bowels.

For some long minutes the Assassin studied the figure of the Administrator up there on the stage, dressed in his flowing robes of white and gold, as he recited a prepared and verbose speech. One never knew when familiarity of a certain face might come in handy. But, eventually, he looked away from the politician, the merchant wasn't the target of his hunt.

His slitted gray eyes searched the rest of the group on the stage. 

At the far left, clothed in pastel-blue and yellow dyed linen Robes of Concealment and properly street-veiled, stood Uhura. She had only lately come into the stewardship of the House of Mkuku, the second best slaver market in the city. Her father had been killed during a buying trip upriver. He'd fallen overboard and was eaten by river-sharks before he could be pulled to safety. Although Uhura would never sully herself with actual hands-on capture and training of slaves, she was an expert at running a slaver's mansion and none under her employ or slave-steel doubted that she was in charge. Uhura was most definitely mistress of her domain. 

The Assassin moved his glance from her, for the woman was not his prey either. 

Each slaver in turn came under his scrutiny, he noted their features and looked at the next in line until he reached the man farthest to the right, R'o, Master of the House of Dhahabu. The Dhahabu market was acknowledged as both the largest and the highest quality in the city. It was also an ancient enemy of the Mkuku. The multi-generational feud between Mkuku and Dhahabu had very nearly wrecked both houses. It was R'o and Uhura's father who had stitched together a shaky truce.

Coincidentally, Black Ox was the son of R'o.

The killer looked away from the stage, his quarry was absence from that group of worthies. His gray gaze moved to the large pavilion which rose behind the stage. The great tent, its center apex rising up some twenty feet from the bare ground, was of satin dyed in morning blue and yellow-gold. The sides of the gargantuan tent were rolled up and within could be seen the numerous representatives of the lesser slave houses of Schendi. A sectioned off portion segregated the Free women and children from the men and pagar-kajirae.

Socially speaking, Free females and pleasure-silk slave girls are natural antagonists. It was best to keep them separated.

Rich food was served on silver platters, delicacies from across Gor, brought to Schendi in the holds of the ships of the League. Fine wines and paga of excellence flowed from slender-throated pitchers poured by infinitely skilled slaves. Girls danced in pits dug into the ground and sand-filled, contesting their graceful movements against one another.

On an extensive and ornately woven carpet, sitting cross-legged, was the infamous Black Ox. Exulted sat the First-Captain. He was a big man, big hands, big feet, and well over six feet tall. His skin a rich dark brown, as were his eyes. A broad nose and generous lips helped to form a masculine and handsome face. His wide shoulders were covered in a blue and yellow aba of intricate brocade. The sleeveless robe left his powerful arms bare. He wore blue trousers with yellow piping and sandals. A silver stud pierced his left earlobe. Grandiose and boisterous, he was every inch the pirate-king. 

He sat before a table with the hundred-square Kaissa board inlaid in its top in gold and aged whale-bone ivory. No paper game-board for the Fleet-Master, thought the Assassin. A much smaller man, in the garb of a Poet and his dark face frowning in concentration, sat opposite the admiral.

To either side of the big slaver were the much talked about pleasure-girls of Black Ox. His blonde la en kajira behind him and to his right and his red hair la se kajira to his left. Singly, either slave was dazzling, as a set of chain-girls they were incandescent. Their white skin made them even more exotic among the varied deep hues of Schendi's majority Black population.

The blonde, Angel, had been born Free. A daughter of a Turian merchant, she'd been captured by the Wagon People of the great plains far south and inland of Schendi. Years later, she'd been recaptured, by a Bazi warrior in the pay of Turia during a raid on the camp in which she served. The warrior had been a good friend of Black Ox, when the man had died the First-Captain had taken the kajira under his personal kolar, the first girl ever bestowed that honor, and installed her into the League's pleasure garden. She'd performed for years as maid to the ransomed Ubara of Ianda before being promoted to First-girl only a few months past. 

Her hair was a cascading silken gold fall of curls which draped to her ass when she stood. Angel's face was heart-shaped. Her open and expressive eyes, expertly outlined in kohl, were the sweet clarified blue of a restful Thassa. Her nose was pert. Her lips full and her cheeks held a natural-rued blush. A golden kolar banded her graceful throat, etched upon it was the legend, property of Black Ox. Her shoulders were lightly tanned, as was the rest of her red-silked petite form. Her breasts, as with most kajirae, were very full with prominent nipples. They sat high and firm on her chest. Her waist was pinched by heredity and her hips were full. Her ass, like her face, was heart-shaped. Her mons and the twin-fruit of her sex were clean-shaven, so that her well-developed clit was obvious. Her legs were coltish with soft thighs and nicely defined calves. She had dainty feet.

She was, in a word, exquisite. 

Angel's demeanor never varied from soft-spoken, even when admonishing a girl under her supervision. With the Free she was shy and flawlessly obedient. Her papers stated she was of high slave heat. The Assassin could believe that. He felt the tug of the slave's sensuousness even over the distance which separated them.

The redhead, Pele, was not the shy type. Indeed, her legally registered slave heat was the highest recorded in Schendi. She was an outrageous flirt, the cause of more than her share of induced-erections among the male population of the League's hidden cylinder. Only the fact that she was the First-Captain's private stock kept her from being constantly used by the men she so easily and highly aroused.

Her red mane was a variegated voluminous war-flag, twisted into a thick braid, which fell to the bottom curves of her firmly plump asscheeks. It was rumored that she was a wild-bred passion-girl. Such was easy to believe from the haughty, almost challenging expression in her eyes. It was said that the First-Captain often used his five-bladed whip on her, so that her lithe and snowy body was oftimes covered in ramberry colored welts. 

As with Angel, the second-girl's eyes were also blue. But Pele's were the azure of an uninterrupted morning Sky. Because of the emergence of a recessive gene in her ancestry, the girl was red-haired and blue-eyed girl despite having been born of the swarthy and black wine brunette Tuchuk, of the Wagon People. Pale-skinned, the oval-faced slave had delicately sculpted ears which were ringed with small silver hoops. Silver too was her kolar, inscribed as property of Black Ox. An aquiline nose, also properly ringed, was at odds with her full and sultry lips. Her slender shoulders were dusted with freckles. Her breasts were large, even for a kajira, but so symmetrical that they did not seem too big for her carriage. Her pale coral-nipples, seemed perpetually hard beneath her transparent red silks. There was a small tuft of hair above her mons and the swell of her glistening cuntlips. A final silver hoop graced her long clitoris. Her round hips supported a succulent ass, generous thighs and long legs. 

Although her stomach didn't yet bulge, the slave was two months pregnant.

Assuredly, the sluts of Black Ox were a sight worth seeing. 

The Assassin cleared his mind of the momentary distraction of the beautiful kajirae and moved quickly but unhurriedly through the milling crowd, closer to Black Ox's position.

There were many people all over the world who wished to do Captain Black Ox harm.

This wasn't paranoid delusion on the part of the good captain. As leader of the piratical League of Black Slavers he was a wanted man across the face of Gor, expect in his home port of Schendi. In the Schendi, Black Ox was a tax-paying and respected citizen. More than that, he was the only son of the powerful House of Dhahabu. As a consequence, he didn't think of himself as a wanted man, nor as a criminal. Black Ox saw himself as a member in good standing with his caste, who happened to be the leader of a large-scale and very successful slaving operation.

The fact that people wanted to kill him, that there was an ever-increasing bounty on his head with every passing year, was merely a by-product, a natural outgrowth, of his savage profession. All of which was far from his mind as he looked about the pavilion and out the open sides at the gathering. 

He was well-pleased that the festival had turned out so successful, as happy as everyone else that not only had the rain had held off but that the Sky was actually cloudless and that the damp, steaming land was graced by sunshine. Colorful and raucous-voiced birds skylarked overhead, seeming as free of care as the holiday crowd below. The wheeling and diving avians kept a sharp eye out for any crumbs or tidbits that might be dropped to the ground. 

The library project had grown out of the First-Captain's enforced stay in port, prompted by an extensive overhaul of his ship, while the rest of the fleet had headed north, to ravage the sea lanes and coastal settlements during the Northern Hemisphere summer. In the League, it is said, to keep a Black Slaver in port when there is booty to be had is to cage the panther. But Black Ox, a man capable of thinking as well as fighting, had managed to turn a temporary negative into a long-lasting positive.

Even more importantly, for the moment, he was winning the Kaissa match. By his calculations he'd have his opponent's home stone in check in five moves. The wagered copper bit the Poet had put up, against Black Ox's sack of twelve double-weight gold tarn pieces, was as good as in his belt-wallet. As the pirate waited for his opponent's next move, he casually held out his embossed iron cuppa for his First-girl to refill. 

Then it happened.

At the periphery of his vision, he saw the wink of sunlight glint off something in the crowd outside. It could've been the chroming of light off an pendant around a sandal-maker's neck, or a spark off the enameled kolar of a fish-monger's slave. Something of no import.




A Day & Then A Night In Schendi



However, Black Ox was a seaman. This meant that unlike a landsman, he couldn't afford to take his environment for granted, not when a change of the color of water beneath the ship's keel could mean the presence of sharp-toothed rocks just below the surface, or anomalous white-caps in the distance that could just as well be a squadron of enemy ships bearing down on his position. Decades of training compelled Black Ox to look up from the board and see what had snagged his attention. Over the heads of the crowd he saw the Assassin, thirty feet or so away, raise his crossbow and aim.

The Assassin too had seen the glint of sunlight. It'd come from a jewelry vendor hawking his wares. Just to the side of the black robed hunter, the jeweler was holding up a silver ring set with amethyst, the better to show off the stone's color for a customer. It was the lavender stone which had caught the light and flashed it from its depths. Although the sparkle had not washed out the Assassin's vision, it was dazzling enough to affect his aim at the moment he pulled the trigger of the bow.

As the bolt left the weapon the Assassin knew that the missile would go wide of its mark.

The danger plain and immediate, Black Ox was in the process of heaving himself up off his carpet when fire erupted white hot in his right arm. He looked down to see the crossbow-bolt buried in his forearm, pain crackled around the outraged nerves of the deep puncture. Blood had begun to stream ruby-red from the wound. The half-filled cup fell from numb fingers, to dully clank down onto the carpet, spilling its pale yellow contents. He growled in his throat, gaining his feet and knocking over the Kaissa table in the process, game pieces scattered to the carpet. The startled Poet fell back in surprise. 

Black Ox bellowed, a primordial expression of pain and rage, as he charged forward out of the tent toward the man who'd shot him.

The moment the first errant bolt had cleared his weapon, the Assassin had begun to recock the crossbow. He quickly ratcheted the bow back to its armed position and withdrew another arrow from a quiver sewn into his robe. He did this calmly, without fear. He didn't consider escape. 

For nearly two hundred years he'd practiced his craft. The Assassin was a consummate professional and once a professional Assassin had accepted coin his priority was killing the prey, not his own safety. He would fulfill the contract, then seek escape. In the first moments of confusion following the slaying he should be able to use the crowd to his advantage, to gain the vast Schendi harbor area and to stow-away on a departing ship. But first the prey must be brought down.

He was aware of the huge Black Slaver charging at him but the Assassin did not panic. He smoothly withdrew the bolt, placed it in its slot and raised the crossbow once more to his face, squinting with one eye, in a classic shooting stance. The First-Captain was dead in his sights, nearly blocking out the rest of the world as he pounded closer.

Black Ox, his mobile lips pushed back in an ugly grimace, saw the Assassin raise his weapon again. He lowered his head and broad shoulders and barreled into the would-be killer, ramming him in the mid-section. The Slaver heard the air whoosh loudly from the tackled Assassin. He also heard the twang of the crossbow fire, the bolt passing harmlessly above his back as he slammed the Assassin into the dirt.

Still bellowing, Black Ox sat on the attacker's chest and with his right arm hanging useless at his side. He clamped his big, callused left hand over the Assassin's throat. 

The man coughed, then wheezed as he felt his windpipe being inexorably crushed. He let go of the crossbow and own hands scrambled over his attacker's fingers, trying to find a purchase, a way to peel back the steel grip. But it was no use, the enraged Slaver was the far stronger man. The Assassin felt panic begin to tinge his thoughts. Not only was his Primitive Cortex, his hindbrain, reacting to the contraction of his air-supply but he could feel the extreme pressure of Black Ox's vise-grip beginning to crush his windpipe. He was growing light-headed, no longer the dominant predator, the Assassin had become a caught prey-item.

By accident, more than by design, his left hand batted against the shaft of the quarrel still stuck in his opponent's forearm. In desperation, the Assasin seized the bolt. He jerked it, twisted it, grinding the arrow in the fresh wound.

Black Ox howled. It felt as if his entire arm had been dipped in acid. He could feel the bolt shaft scraping bone as the Assassin cruelly twisted the thing. But this wasn't the first life and death struggle the pirate had found himself fighting. Instinctively, he leaned forward, bringing his weight into play. Increasing the stress on the man's throat. And, while the loss of blood and shock conspired to sap his considerable strength, he was more than powerful enough to shatter something as fragile as a trachea.

The Assassin heard his own death rattle as the delicate bones of his windpipe gave way under Black Ox's assault. Over the span of his long career he had witnessed the death of a thousand of his victims, men, women and children. He now experienced for himself the sense of outrage, of feeling cheated of the days still due him. 

Despite nearly two hundred years of an unblemished record, the Assassin died in shame, his prey living on.

Black Ox held on to the crushed throat for long seconds after the Assassin died. I'm alive, he thought, greatly relieved, as always after defending his life.

Pain from his stirred injury nearly made the big pirate swoon, he saw the world begin to gray over but he fought it, his instincts telling him that it was urgent for him to regain his senses. He bellowed again as he unwrapped the Assassin's dead finger's from the arrow shaft aslant in his blood-covered arm and released his hold on the corpse's shattered throat.

It was then that it registered to him that someone back in the tent was keening a high-pitched scream into the morning air. He struggled to stand, succeeding with some great effort, and swaying on his feet he turned around. 

The path he had plowed open through the crowd only seconds before had not collapsed. It was as if the people were afraid to intrude upon the berserker, the way fish will stay clear of a shark's wake. With that clear line-of-sight he could see directly into the pavilion, at his carpet, at the upset Kaissa table. He could see that it was Pele who wailed.

And he could see the slumped figure of Angel draped in Pele's arms. Black Ox felt his body turn ice cold. The pain in his arm went away. The rage went away. And abject fear gripped his heart.

"No," he grunted, feeling his testicles crawl up close to his body. 

He didn't remember stumbling back under the awning of the tent but suddenly there he was looking down to see Angel who had fallen across Pele's lap. The First-girl's transparent red silks had rucked up over her hip, clearly revealing the expanse of curved tanned flesh still warm but no longer animated. Her golden tresses had spread over her shoulders, with wispy strands covering her beautiful face. The ugly shaft of the crossbow quarrel protruded from her breast. The blonde had been shot through the heart by the Assassin's second bolt. Livid red blood ran from the wound. 

And, of course, she was dead. No longer a vivacious and willing girl, now merely a thing.

But how can that be, Black Ox heard a voice inside his head ask. Less than a minute ago she was pouring wine. Less than a minute ago she was smiling.

At the approach of her master, Pele ceased wailing, but her gorgeous face was a ruin of grief, her mouth still formed an O, a silent scream as she helplessly looked up at Black Ox. Her lovely eyes swam in tears. The strength left Black Ox's legs and he sank heavily to the carpet, stained now with both his and the dead kajira's blood. In an unconscious gesture of comfort, he reached out and stroked the Second-girl's head. She pressed back hard against his hand, seeking security.

The Slaver was far too much of a civilized Gorean to show his grief in public. However much he might have loved his First-girl, and he had loved her with a pure clean-burning flame, in polite society a slave was merely an animal, after all. The affection for one's pets was not a thing for general consumption. An emotion display would be considered unseemly. Black Ox was a prince of the city, to borrow a barbarian phrase, and he would comport himself as such.

he lifted Angel's head from Pele's lap and lowered it to the carpet. Black Ox then struggled out of his aba, with the shaft of the quarrel still lodged in his arm, and tenderly draped the robe over Angel's supine form.

"Fair winds, sweet Angel," he murmured, so that only Pele heard. 

In short order, Black Ox's arm was attended to. Under guard, the Second-girl was sent back to the League's cylinder along with the dead en kajira, and the festival continued. The excitement of the foiled Assassination, the death of the beautiful and expensive kajira only added to the excitement of the day. Black Ox had also made sure to give the Poet the purse of double-gold tarns, wagered in the forfeited Kaissa game. All would later agree that it had been a most memorable festival, one that would be talked about for years.

In the botanical gardens courtyard of the League's hidden cylinder a tower of wood, about six feet high, had been built into a pyre. Within that pyre, shroud in red linen, lie the body of the fallen Angel.

The dusky Sky was bruising purple toward true night when all of the dozens of pleasure kajirae of the cylinder filed singly into the courtyard. Each carried a small unlit brass oil-lamp. Known as the Ravishment Lamp, or lamp of love, the spouted lantern was traditionally lit in the sleep-chamber when a master wished to thoroughly use his slave girl. The lamp was as much a symbol of a pagar kajira's enslavement and devotion as was her kolar.

As the slaves entered the courtyard and crossed the flagstones they moved to the pyre before pouring a dollop measure of the oil from their lamps onto the wood. The oil had been scented for the occasion with Angel's signature perfume, so that the wood, and hence the night air, carried the dead girl's bouquet. 

After silently, gracefully, performing the ritual of oiling the wood, the assembled kajirae arranged themselves into three concentrate circles around the pyre, the most senior and favored girls composing the inner circle, the newer and less skilled chain-daughters forming the outermost. They all knelt into their nadu, except for the Second-girl. Pele lit her lamp with her master's fire maker. The new and well-clipped wick caught the flame and she steeped from the inner-circle to the pyre. 

"Tal, sister," she whispered, with wet eyes, as she looked at the shrouded figure.

She and Angel had never been friends. 

After her owner, a First-girl is absolute ruler over her master's pleasure garden. A slave-ubara, as it were. To maintain a razor-edged sharpness among the girls demands a certain amount of ruthlessness. More than once Pele had felt the authority of Angel and she had naturally enough resented it. As the only two girls to wear Black Ox's personal kolar they couldn't help but be competitors. The fact that the First-Captain had chosen to honor Pele by breeding her with his own seed had not made the First and Second-girl's relationship any easier. But, Pele felt, that competition to strive higher in their master's eyes had made them both better kajirae. And for that she was both grateful and respectful to her former mistress.

"You always served with fire and perfection. May you sit by the Great Mother's side."

Then she touched the short fire of the lamp to the doused wood. There was a soft whump as the flame caught in the flammable oil. In the suddenly brightened courtyard, Pele returned to the three-rowed circle, passing among the kneeling kajira, lighting the lamp of each. The scene was other-worldly, the slave girls in their fluttering silks seeming more beautiful spirits, drifting in the night, than actual flesh and blood beings. Their very postures bespoke their wretched sorrow.

As far as the rendering of the dead, the Gorean axiom is to burn or bury the Free, to throw the criminal and slave to the sleens. In the aftermath of Angel's slaying, Black Ox had turned that saying on its head. In the afternoon, after he'd returned to the League's cylinder from the ground-breaking festival, he'd gone down to the Iron Pens and had personally, one-handedly, savagely chopped the Assassin's body into small chunks with an ax and kicked them into the fighting-sleen pit.

The act hadn't dampened his sense of bereavement even a little bit. He hadn't expected that it would. The loss of Angel was an open wound he expected would never truly heal. Under the archway of the courtyard, he stood with a vast, whistling emptiness inside.

Beside him stood an old woman. She was Kauahae, the former Ubara of Ianda.

Decades ago, long before he'd become First-Captain, Black Ox had kidnapped her and brought the woman to the cylinder, to hold her there until the Ubar of Ianda forked over the ransom for her. He never had, instead the island Ubar had installed a younger girl in his Free Companion's place and moved on with his life. After a few months the naturally gregarious Ubara, lonely for company, had moved out of her suite of rooms and into the Pleasure Garden with the kajirae. She had resided there ever since. Both she and Black Ox watched the pyre's flame climb high into the night. They didn't step into the courtyard proper because they were Free and the funeral was for a slave, something that was beneath their official notice.

"Angel was the best abigail I ever had," the ancient Ubara, sniffed. She dabbed at her red and puffy eyes with a handkerchief. "No maid at my court was half as accomplished."

"I'm sure Angel would feel there could be no higher praise," Black Ox said, his deep voice thick and raspy.

"I think as well that she would be happy to know that her death aided her master in some small way to defeat an enemy bent on killing him."

Black Ox shook his head in the negative, as he adjusted his arm in the sling, gingerly flexing his fingers. "No. I wasn't the Assassin's target."

The Ubara frowned as she looked up at the Fleet-Master. "I don't understand."

"It's simple. I was looking directly at the Assassin when he pulled the crossbow's trigger. He wasn't aiming at me. He was aiming to my left. The urt intended to kill Pele," he said, nodding toward the Tuchuk girl who knelt now, back in her place unmoving, near to the roaring flames.

The Ubara frowned behind her gossamer house veil. "But why would anyone hire an Assassin to kill a slave?"

"Because she is unique, because she is the only slave who carries my child, my potential heir." Again his glance went to the Second-girl. "Whoever sent the Assassin didn't want me dead, they wanted me to suffer."

"Ah," the ubara nodded. "Unusual motivations, if true."

"Aye. Not the normal course of things to be sure. Not the way men usually do business, neh? It denotes a certain subtle, feminine turn of mind. Don't you think?"

The ubara's first thought was that the Admiral was implicating her, then she realized his true meaning. "The Lady Uhura?"

"Aye," Black Ox confirmed, the firelight reflected orange on his dark face. His lips were compressed into a thin line. "She's no more forgotten that her brother died on my knife than I have. And now, with her father gone and Uhura in charge of her house, she seeks to balance the scales. She must've heard about the child, of my affection for Pele. Her only mistake was being too devious, she didn't send the Assassin for me. She's missed her opportunity and now its my turn."

The ubara sighed, briefly fluttering her thin veil. "So you take up the feud again."

Black Ox shook his head once more. "No. Neither my house, nor the city's Slaver community in general can afford such a destructive conflict at this time. But life is long, great lady, and somewhere in Time I'll find my chance for vengeance. In the meanwhile, I'd prefer that Pele not know she was the intended victim."

"She won't hear it from me," said the old woman. "But I'd wager she's already figured it out for herself. That girl is a thinker, as quick-witted as any I've known. Free or slave."

Black Ox gave an affirmative nod. "Aye, that she is. Before her, I'd never found another I'd even considered fit to mother my children. Free or slave, as you say." 

His dark gaze settled once more on the kneeling kajira, highlighted by the lamp in her hands and pyre's flames. "She's precious beyond price to me. This I say without shame, I'd have preferred that the very rock of the Sardar Mountain have crumbled into dust before witnessing the evil day that took away my Angel. But, better that the stars themselves snuff out before Pele is taken from me."

The Ubara remained silent, accepting the honor the First-Captain bestowed on her, by allowing his true feelings to be expressed. And she knew that Uhura, of the House of Mkuku, was doomed.

With nightfall came the end to the brief spell of fair weather over Schendi. Tendrils of cloud crept into the Sky, masking the three moons and erasing the hard glint of the Galaxy's countless stars. As the kajirae, the Ubara, and the First-Captain stood vigil, the rains returned in quiet patters, the warm drops hissed into the flames of the pyre. 

Night wept over Schendi and the fallen Angel.

-end-



A Day & Two Nights



I met her about a month ago. We were both in Central Park, me sitting on a park bench reading the New Yorker, her taking a break from her bike ride and relaxing on the bench next to mine, and both of us evaluating the mid-afternoon scene. She struck up a conversation with me. I noticed a few different things about her appearance: That her black slick biking pants fit her legs and ass like a glove, that her expertly coiffed blonde hair spoke well of her sense of style, and the ring on ring finger of her left hand. None of which she sought to hide from my appreciative gaze.

I am not sure what about my appearance caught her eye. My hair pulled back in a tail, minimal make-up, and dressed in jeans and a comfy frumpy sweater. She sat; we talked, and enjoyed each other's company. I enjoyed her company enough to ask her to my place, to "see my apartment" as the saying goes, to proffer some tea to take away the late winter chill. She enjoyed my company enough to accept my invitation.

Still in her workout wear, and with her bike in tow, she and I used the back entrance and the service elevator up to my apartment. It would not do, after all, to have anyone at her place think she was anywhere other than still on her bike ride. Nor would it do for anyone at my place to notice a married woman into my apartment. In any event, not more 60 minutes after we met in the park, she walked into my apartment.

She sat, I made some tea, and we talked. I took her left hand into mine and took renewed interest of her wedding ring. I expressed surprise that she wore it while biking. She said she always does when biking in Central Park, as she often stops for a rest and does not want complication or misunderstandings. I see, I said, and thought to myself: This is not the first time she has picked up or been picked up while on one of her Central Park bike rides.

"What does he do?" I asked, less curious about how he paid for her stylist than I was curious about what she would tell me about him

"He's on Wall Street." The alpha and omega of her explanation about him, as it turns out, as she turned the conversation back to me: "You didn't seem to mind when you invited me here."

"I don't mind at all, " I told her, matching her even gaze with one of my own, "I'll guess I'm like you: I don't need unnecessary drama in my life."

She smiled at that. I liked her demeanor, and that she would have walked out of my apartment had I not met her... terms. Probably I would have done the same in her place. Certainly, I would have thrown her out had she started blathering on about how she needs a "special friend" in her life, how "only women understand our needs" or how she had been "so curious for so long." I smiled back at her and we silently watched the sun wane over the canyons of Midtown, enjoyed the brief moment before she turned to me and asked me to show her the rest of my apartment.

Considering I live in a one-bedroom apartment, the only place left to show my new friend was my bedroom. She noticed the prints on the wall, my own bike standing in the corner, and the queen-sized bed by the curtained window; I noticed how her black biking pants perfectly hugged her shapely ass. She walked over by my unmade bed and made a show of noticing the framed print above my bed. I walked over behind her, placed my hands on her hips, and held my body close to hers. She moved back against me, pressing her hips back against mine. I imagined her then, on my bed, on her hands and knees, my hands massaging and spreading her ass.

"Are you very tight from your bike ride?" I asked, letting my hands move up the side of her body. She stood perhaps an inch taller than my 5'7" height, and though less curvy than me, retained a lithe quality in her body and movement that I found quite alluring.

"I had not been biking long when I found you." She answered my questions, both those stated and unspoken, with an economy of words I thought... tactfully direct. She had seen through and removed my pretense for touching her; that her bike ride had left her tired and strained, and perhaps in need of a massage.

"I see" was all I could muster in response.

She turned to me, kept my hands on her hips, and placed hers on mine. She smiled at me, then said with a grin: "But I'd still like a massage. Why don't you go refresh our tea while I get comfortable on your bed?"

I nodded, turned, and left the room. Oh, she was smooth. She was smooth enough to take her pleasure sans accoutrement, and expected the same of her lovers. It is not that she dislikes drama per se, I thought, but that the drama she wanted in the dynamics she established with her different lovers was that which all wanted. Which begged the question: What drama would she and I selectively add to our dynamic?

I pushed these future thoughts from my mind and set myself back to the here and now. I gathered our cups, refilled them with tea, and walked them back into my bedroom. During my absence, she had made herself quite at home. She lay on my bed, facing away from me, stripped down to a cute pair of black hip-hugger briefs. She looked perfectly comfortable. Her smooth back and legs spoke to her commitment to fitness just as the way she lay with her legs slightly parted spoke to her ease and sensuality. I set her cup down on the bedside table, causing her to jerk her head back around to face me.

"Oh, No! You're already falling asleep on me!" I teased her while sipping a bit of my tea.

"I told you I would get comfortable!" She grinned back.

"Comfortable, not comatose" I thought, but held my tongue. She propped herself on her side and with her free hand took her tea to her mouth. She wore no lipstick, yet the fullness and sensuality of her mouth stood out. I suspected men thought hers the 'perfect cock-sucking mouth' and I wondered if she backed up their thoughts with her actions. Lying as she did afforded me a view of her small breasts and very flat tummy. She seemed to me one of those women I see at the gym, with their personal trainers, exorcising the twin demons of boredom and frustration through extended repetitions on the Cybex Machines. I would place her age at 10 years my senior, yet she looked better than did half the thirty-something women my own age.

She sipped her tea silently while watching me undress for her. I shed my clothes with a certain practiced ease, adding my clothes to the pile she had created on the floor. Once down to my thong, I took her cup from her hand and motioned her to lay flat on her tummy. I made a show of re-adjusting my thong, pulling it tighter over my hips and letting it cup my pussy, and then turned back to her. She nestled her head into her arms and waited for me to join her on my bed.

I moved around the bed, letting my fingers glance over her body, and pulling her legs out and open. Her smooth skin warmed to my touch and appreciative moans escaped her mouth. I climbed on the bed between her legs, letting my hands glide up her back and down her sides. I worked back up her spine, pulling her back flat, pushing her deeper into my bed. With every stroke up her body, she lifts her ass off the bed, seeming to want to meet a touch or a tongue she will not receive until later.

I pulled her legs together, straddling her thighs under mine. I am sure she could feel it when I rubbed the crotch of my panties against the back of her thighs. I am also sure she also noticed when, after stroke of smoothing my hands down the sides of her body, I pushed her panties a little lower over her hips. We maintained ourselves, keeping this contact both erotic and impersonal, neither of us saying a word to the other.

I switched my body off hers, kneeling to her side, facing towards her feet. Almost as if sensing my next move, she lifted her ass off the bed, letting my hands pull her panties down her legs. Her well-toned ass revealed itself to me, with tan lines from a thong perfectly framing the supple curves of each cheek. The faintness of the lines told me she had perhaps vacationed somewhere warm sometime in her recent past.

"Where did you vacation?" I asked, conscious of using vacation as a verb, presuming she only took active holidays. 

"St. Martin. Have you been?" She asked while I pulled her panties off her legs.

"Yes, but years back. I went to Club Orient. You?" I asked, dropping the name of a nudist/lifestyle resort while dropping her panties to the floor.

"Yes, that's where I went." She looked back at me and smiled.

"How'd you end up with tan lines at a that place?" I wondered aloud, remembering how I spent a week more or less nude during the day, with perhaps a fun party dress in the evening and never wearing panties save when I arrived and left.

"It's what was wanted of me." She explained.

"So, he was with you." I said, referring to the man behind her ring.

"Well, no. But I wasn't alone." She explained, and left it at that, as did I. Besides, I had a naked woman in my bed, and things were just starting...

I placed my right hand on the back of her neck then traced my fingers down her spine. As if by instinct, she parted her legs as my hand approached her ass. My left hand joined my right in cupping and gently opening her ass, then gliding my hands further down her legs. I leaned over, letting my nipples glace over her back, and then pulled my hands back up tracing my fingertips inside of her thighs. All of which made her open her legs just a little bit more. With every stroke of my hands, she parted her legs wider and wider.

I positioned myself back between her legs. I noticed how comfortable she seemed at that moment; her arms folded under her head, her back slightly arched, and how her curvy and slightly parted ass allowed me a peek between cheeks trailing down to the back of her bare and moistening pussy. Confident she would tell me if I touched her in a way she found displeasing, I continued my "massage."

I focused almost exclusively on her ass. My previous vision returned to my thoughts, of pulling her to her hands and knees, spreading her ass, and licking her from the base of her spine to the tip of her clit and back. Of letting my tongue part her lips, caress her clit, then slide into and taste her pussy. Of letting my tongue slide between her cheeks, feeling her relax, then pressing my tongue into her. Try as I might, I could not shake this image from my mind. Ambivalence abounded within me, for I would not want to move too fast too soon and have her flee my bed.

Perhaps it was that she sensed my mood, as all good lovers do. Perhaps she had the same vision running through her mind. Perhaps it was that I signaled my intentions by gently running my fingers between her cheeks, then smoothing her apart, spreading her ass before me. She flexed just then, winking at me. My hands moved down her thighs, breaking the moment, and continuing my sensual tease of her skin. Not content with this, she pulled her hands from under her head and brought them down to her hips. She covered her ass with her hands, and then in a move I could only describe as invitingly lewd, spread her ass for me.

She held herself like that, relaxed and poised, and so very exposed. My hands moved as if by her volition, sliding under hers, keeping her open. I leaned forward then, placing my mouth at the base of her spine, letting my tongue extend and make contact with her body. After scooting myself down on the bed, I let my mouth move lower on her with a series up upward cat-licks until I found myself tickling and touching her ass with the tip of my tongue. She relaxed, perceptibly so, and accompanied by a quite satisfied sigh.

I gave her a few flat-tongue wet licks then pulled my mouth back to examine my handiwork. It seemed as if the fading tan lines curving around the top of her ass formed an arrow pointing down to her slick, slightly dimpled anus. Her ass slick with my saliva and dimpled from what I would guess was her enjoyment of vigorous anal sex. I should know; I enjoy the same. I placed the tip of my tongue against her anus, felt her relax just as I would have, and then pressed my tongue into her ass. She responded immediately. She slid her hands, palms up, under her hips, and then lifted her ass to my gently probing tongue.

It was with a sigh that she pulled herself from me. I pulled myself back to my knees and waited on her next move. She turned over, scissoring her legs in the process, then rest on her back with her legs wide apart. It was not just her lips that were bare, but also her entire pussy. The same tan lines that encased her lovely ass served to frame her deliciously full and wet cunt. She placed her right hand behind her head, used her left to spread and open her lips, and invited me to continue. Silently, I did.

The diamond of her wedding ring glistened in the ambient light in my bedroom, as did the pearl of moisture gathered at the base of her cunt. I do not know why I did, but I first kissed her wedding ring before I kissed her married pussy. She was heavy, slick, and fragrant. I let myself inhale her scent before she used her hand to pull my mouth to her cunt. I kissed her full on the lips before letting my tongue slide between her lips while my hands reached under and cradled her ass, lifting her to me. She needed more, she wanted a more direct sensation, and directed my mouth with both hands to her engorged clit.

I wasted little time using my tongue and mouth to massage, lick, and suck her clit harder and harder. I wanted to feel her pulsing on my tongue, feel her ass clench in my hands and her thighs press against my face; I wanted her to forget all but the sensation of my mouth pleasuring her. The ease of her tensions higher matched my increased tempo of gently sucking her clit deeper into my mouth. Suspecting she wanted even more, I guided the middle finger from my left hand to her slick ass, and then let her own rocking motion slide my finger deep into her ass. I was correct; she does enjoy anal sex.

My right hand went to her cunt, using my ring and middle fingers to part and then penetrate her lips. She, by now, had fingers from both of hands just as deeply entwined in my hair as mine were in her body. She rocked herself deeper onto both sets of my fingers, each slick and sliding inside of her. I spread and curled my two fingers in her cunt, massaging her spot as my mouth moved back to her clit. I licked and sucked her, felt her clit tremble under my tongue, felt her ass clench my finger while she rocked her hips back and forth on my hands, easing my fingers deeper into her pussy. She moved her hands from my hair to her knees, pulling her legs back and up, spreading herself even wider for my mouth and fingers. I pulled the middle finger from my left hand back from her ass, sensed her missing this penetration, how she yearned for renewed stretching and probing of her ass, then easily slid both the middle and ring fingers from my left hand deep into her ass. Yes, her ass was well used to vigorous and deep penetration.

She began writhing, moaning, pushing herself back to meet the thrusts of my fingers deep into her cunt and ass. While my inner fingers curled and massaged her pussy, my outer fingers spread and held her outer lips, leaving her clit deliciously exposed for my tongue and mouth. I sucked her again, hard. I pursed and pulled her clit with my lips, sluiced my tongue over her clit, formed a groove with my tongue and sucked her deeper and deeper in time with my fingers in her cunt and ass. She rocked in time with me; she let herself feel her body respond to my passion, and pushed down until my fingers could go no further into her body. She held her legs open for me in a perfect V, then forcefully closed her thighs around my face, and pulled my hair, pulling my face deeper into her. She was so close and I would not relent; not for the entire world would I let up from her. Her tensing increased, her clenching my fingers in her body, her clit twitching and pulsing in my mouth, and then with a violent arch and an exasperated and quite vocal moan she released to me, cumming for me, let these sensations overtake her body, let her cunt and ass and clit and legs release against my body.

I moved my mouth from her clit to her flat tummy, kissing and nuzzling against her. I let slide from her cunt the two fingers from my right hand, which then smoothed over her hips to under her lower back. My fingers in her ass I in place, holding her close, which I knew to be the correct sensation; having my ass still penetrated after orgasm counts as one of my favorite sensations. I moved up on her body then, pressing the heel of my left hand against the base of her cunt, then kissing and nibbling each of her small erect nipples in turn. Her hands went to the back of my head as she emerged from her post-orgasmic haze, pulling my mouth from one nipple to the next as she wanted. Finally, with my fingers still in her ass, she brought my mouth to hers. There was no small kiss in either of our vocabularies, no shared peck on the lips or cheek; her open mouth invited mine to lock with hers. She began sucking my tongue, making me fuck her mouth with my tongue, and then I began fucking her ass again with my fingers.

My right hand supported her back, pulling her to me, holding her body against mine. Her hands pulled my face to her, trying to somehow make our kiss even deeper, longer, wetter. I pressed my bare breasts against her, felt the familiar sensation of our erect nipples rubbing against our bodies, our breasts; felt her heart beating against my chest. Scissoring her left leg between mine, I then used my fingers in her ass to pull her to her side against me. She threw her left leg far over my hips, up on my body, curled to press her body against mine, keeping her ass spread for me. I could tell that, from the sensations of my mouth on hers, my breasts on hers, and my fingers sliding in and out of her ass, She was going to cum again.

Her fingers curled and pulled my hair. Her mouth gaped open then closed repeatedly, closing around my tongue and mouth. Finally, dismissing the idea of concentrating on our kiss, she pulled my mouth to her neck. Her hands went to my back, her fingers digging into me, her nails raking my back as I pressed the heel of my palm against her cunt and my fingers fucked her ass. She was so close again so quickly! I would not relent, my fingers now almost slamming into her ass, her moaning with every movement of mine. I pulled my right hand to the back of her head, pulled her head back by her hair, and yanked her face into my vision. Her eyes locked onto mine, she bared her teeth as a cornered animal bares its fangs, and she almost hissed at me. I grasped her hair even tighter; pulling her head back holding her in place, watched her mouth remain open gasping for air. She pressed her nails into my back, pulled them long and deep against me, so much so that I knew I would have marks there the next day. This rich bitch wanted this rough, hard, vigorous, and violent. And nasty... With my fingers still slamming into her ass, I pulled her head back one final time, opening her mouth and exposing her tongue, then formed in my mouth an ample amount of saliva that I then spit into hers.

That sent her over the edge. That is it, I thought: This is the drama she wants, the sensations she needs; the meeting of her mind and body needed for complete and total surrender: She needs to be the rich bitch fucked like a nasty slut. Oh, and was I ever very happy to oblige. I slipped my thumb into her cunt and pressed it against my fingers in her ass. I rubbed them together, repeatedly making circled in her, connecting the sensations in her cunt and ass. That is all she needed... she pulled me to her, curled her fingers and scratched her nails down my back, and came for me again. Not a thing separated her body from mine, not a single notion separated her from what she wanted; this nasty slut fucked her ass and cunt against my hand and came and came and came.




A Day & Two Nights



She pushed herself from me soon after the last tremor left her body. More to say she laid herself flat under my body, her arms at her side, her body slick with perspiration, her breasts rising and falling with her quickly regulated breaths. I kept my hand very still in her then, careful not to move anything for fear of jarring her. With a final sigh, she moved her right hand to between her legs and gingerly pulled my fingers from her ass. I rested my hand on her hip and waited for her to regain the power of speech. Her eyes focused on mine first, then she closed her legs and moved to her side facing me.

"You never took them off." She said, noticing the band from my thong under her hand on my hip.

"It didn't seem necessary." I stated the obvious.

"No, I suppose not." She agreed with me, and then rolled me over to my tummy. She pulled herself up, resting on her left arm, and running her right hand down my back. Her fingers gently touched along the red lines I am sure crisscrossed my back. "I'm afraid I've left some marks on you."

"They'll heal," I said, "the may be noticed but nobody will question them." A quick translation formed in her mind, as I knew it would, that I knew I could not have marked her as she had me, and that I was fine with that. My lovers know I sometimes 'like it rough', and I know that they know. Besides, I do not have a significant other who would question how I got these marks, and who placed them there. I laid my head flat on the bed, picked up her scent and the scent of her perfume on my sheets, and deeply inhaled both. I liked that this woman wore perfume when biking in the park, looking for lovers, and we let the mood ease down from an erotic inferno to this nice sensual flicker.

She continued stroking her hand along my back, to my hips, feeling the curves of my ass, played with my thong. "Do you let many lovers in here?" She suddenly asked, cupping my ass with her hand as she did.

"In where?" I asked, her comment jarring me from my reverie.

"Into your apartment, your bed." She explained.

"Are you asking me how many lovers I have?" I pressed her, genuinely curious about what she wanted to know.

She cocked her head to the side, then continued: "I know you have lovers, Susan. With your looks and body, how could you not? What I am wondering is... how many do you let in here? How many do you let see the real you?"

I pulled my head up and faced her. "Tell me what you mean, June."

She smiled the kind of smile one often sees when predators have they prey cornered. "Do you spit in your other lovers' mouths and pull their hair? Do you let them dig their nails into your back?"

"Sure." I said, annoyed with her tone, and dropped my head to the bed.

"Do you do that because that is what they want, or because of what you want?" She continued, "Or do you first have to play coy and naive before you get what you want?"

I smiled when I finally understood her point. The number of times I had had a woman in my bed, or me in hers, where I tried to introduce things considered kinky only to be rebuffed with a protestation on her part indicating I had given offense. Then I saw the connection she drew between my apartment and my passion. I kept "friends" at arm's length, until I sensed in them the desire to share these more... explicit pleasures. Then, they became my lovers. Of course, it next occurred me that this is what she had just done with me. This realization I shared with her by lifting myself up again, smiling then kissing her. She smiled back then pulled my hair from the side of my face.

"It's late," she announced, "and I have to go."

Yes, I knew that was coming next. As they say... better to leave them wanting more than to overstay your welcome. Besides, I could tell from the dimming light coming through my bedroom window that twilight was descending upon the city.

"When can I see you again?" I hated this part of me, the needy part, and even though it so infrequently manifests itself in my actions, still I hated that I had asked her that. Yes, I wanted to see her again. Yes, I wanted to fuck her again. Maybe next time I might actually get my panties off. Yes, she was erotic, exciting, and all of that, but why had I shown her that needy side of me? Shit!

She rose off the bed and stretched. I took a pillow and slid it under me, hugging it to me as if she still lay under me. It was not enough that my words betrayed my mood but by actions did as well. I still watched her though. I watched her regain her footing, slip her panties up until they again hugged her hips, and place her breasts back into her bra. She found her pants and top where she had placed them and quickly finished getting dressed. She came over to me then. She leaned over the bed, stroked my head, bent over, and kissed my cheek. Peevishly, I had not bothered offering her more to kiss than my cheek.

"Don't worry, Susan. I will be in touch with you." She announced as if stating the obvious, smiled again, turned and left my bedroom. I heard the sounds of her in my foyer, slipping her biking shoes back on, grabbing her bike, opening the door, and then she left. I lay on my bed, alone, with her scent in the air, her taste in my mouth, and her promise on my mind. I closed my eyes and tried to push all this from me, found I could not, then got up, dressed for the gym, and then went over and joined all those other women exercising my body while exorcising demons from my mind.

I came home from work the next day, and found a package awaited me at the concierge's desk. A cream monogrammed vanilla envelope appeared, obviously from her, obviously delivered by courier service, and my spirits rose as the elevator lifted me to my apartment. The bills and Vanity Faire could wait.

"Susan,

You are a lovely and passionate woman. It's so rare for women like us to find each other; like orchids we are tender and strong, striving to bring our own special form of beauty to this city. Did you think I would not contact you? Of course you did. Do I fear you will not answer this invitation? Of course I do. But I hope you will.

A friend from the fashion world is throwing a party at the Cellar Bar two days from now. They are closing the place for this, and your name will be on a guest list. I do not know your real last name so I have given you one: Susan St. Martin.

Do come to this, Susan. Say 'YES!' to this! Do not let last night be our sweet sorrow! Let us meet again, and let us smile.

June"

I smiled and smiled. Her command of Shakespeare lifted my spirits, her invitation tickled me, and I thought 'Thursday could not come quick enough!' Yes, I was still miffed she left me wanting and in a needy mood. Now I knew she shared my same needs. I wondered who would be at this party. I was reasonably sure that she would be the only person there I would know, but I could not have cared less. I quickly brought my personal schedule to mind, remembered a fun and funky couple with whom I had a pre-existing commitment, evaluated my next move for perhaps 3/10 of a second, and fired off an email to them seeking a rain check.

I had no way of sending a message to June; the envelope had no return address, I knew the courier service would not tell me who had sent her message, and her note did not contain an email address, a phone number, or even who was throwing the party at the Cellar Bar. No matter, I thought: She knew I would appear, and so did I. I sent my RSVP via ESP.

A fashion event... I tore through my closet early on that Thursday evening wondering what I should wear. I knew that nothing in my closet would be hip and trendy as anything adorning the tall thin angular bodies of the fashionistas sure to attend at this soiree, so I went basic. Basic black fuck-me pumps with a 3" heel and basic black thigh-highs, both with a smooth satin finish, served as my basic black base. I thought about and then discarded the notion of wearing panties; with luck they would not be necessary, plus since I had not had a chance to remove my panties the first time we fucked, I thought it opportune to banish this decision from her mind. I shimmied into one of my more interesting little black dresses. It was long enough to hide the tops of my thigh-highs, short enough to show ample leg, tight enough to mold itself to my body, and with a halter-top generously displaying my cleavage. The low-slung back would display some of the marks left by June, some of them fading from view like the tan lines on her ass, and my longish blonde hair would hide the rest from the hoi polloi; but June would get the signal. I put on my coat, grabbed my purse, and left.

"Name?" The living breathing porcelain doll standing guard at the entrance of the cellar asked me. She was impossibly thin, impossibly delicate, and making in a month what I make in a week, hoping someone would 'discover' her this evening. She looked at me and, after taking in my full measure and comparing it against hers, saw an older successful woman with fading beauty and sagging body. I looked at her and saw Bambi growing stale, with fading dreams and sagging prospects, and a series of creepy middle-aged married men circling her, enticing her with offers of travel and dinner and clothes and all else that is part of having a 'mutually beneficial arrangement' with such men. 

We exchanged looks of pity then I gave her my nom de la soiree, "Susan St. Martin." She barely glanced up to me; already looking over my shoulder to the next in line, while the tall beefy hunk manning the velvet rope did take notice of me, as I did of him, and then let me pass.

I did not spot her at first, and did not made a point of looking too hard for her. I was there at her invitation, and she could well find me when she wanted to. I moved to the bar as the background lighting effects changed from chartreuse to vermilion. The bar truly is a cellar, with vaulted ceilings, subdued lighting, low seating, and a wait staff seemingly lifted from the pages of Vogue.

Then I spotted her. Yes, she was there, wearing a very slimming black pantsuit, the top of her multi-fabric and multi-hued bustier peeking out from behind the deep V of her jacket, on the arm of a man more than 10 years her senior. She was there with her husband. Curious, I thought, until I remembered his job. She had probably sent her RSVP for both of them weeks before, then placed it on his schedule thinking his work or some dinner or something would interfere with his attendance. She caught my eye long enough to establish a look, and then turned back to her group.

I ordered an apple martini (best in New York) and waited.

I ordered a second apple martini and waited.

Yes I talked and flirted with the men and women there, but the men were all 'modelizers'; and had no interest in schmoozing and/or hitting on a thirty-something woman with her own consulting practice. The women were more interesting, which is to say interesting to look at, for since I am not in the fashion business I had little in common with those there. Certainly, I had little to offer in the way of professional contacts. Besides, I was there to meet someone... else. Therefore, I contented myself with surveying the canvas of wool crepe and bare skin and getting drunk.

I caught June's eye when I could and found her still occupied by her husband and their friends. He was holding forth, as Master's of the Universe will do, flapping his fish-like lips, pontificating on some subject, which apparently did not interest anyone else assembled before him, including June. She managed a smile when he looked away, and I smiled back.

I was about to order a third apple martini when I decided a trip to the Ladies would be in order. I flashed a look over my shoulder to June, noticed she had noticed my movements, and then disappeared stage right. June made her appearance after my third time washing my hands. Our eyes met in the mirror then she walked past me and into the far stall, and closed the door. The other woman primping herself in the mirror did notice this; and shot me a smile and a look on her way back out to the bar. I walked loudly to the far stall and pushed the door back. June was there, standing, waiting for me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think he would be here." She said as she pulled me into the fully enclosed stall, pulled my body to hers, and locked the door. It was as if we were in a closet, away from prying eyes.

"I know, don't worry, it's fine." I hugged her back assuaging her fears. She looked imposing and fabulous; her Gucci pumps added an additional 4" to her height, she now stood two inches above me. I leaned over to kiss her when she stopped me, holding my mouth back from hers.

"Don't. We can't kiss, "she exhaled quickly, and all too obviously worried I would leave her mouth a mess, and then screeched at me "We don't have long!" She reached behind my neck and unsnapped my halter-top, freeing my breasts.

It's fine!" I repeated for emphasis while managing to open her black coat and feeling the fabrics of the bustier that encased her body and breasts.

She pulled the hem of my dress over my hips, and then quickly moved her right hand between my thighs to my pussy. She either did not notice or had expected me to not be wearing panties. In any event, she continued, "Open your legs, please! We don't have much time. He'll notice!" She begged me, sincere concern edging into her lustful voice.

"June, calm down!" I eased her nerves with my voice as I pushed myself back against the wall, "We'll have enough time!" I lifted my left foot to the cover on the seat, opened my legs, guided her right hand back to my pussy, and pulled her in. Yes, I am well versed in the practice of fucking with high heels on.

"No! We don't!" She hissed at me, her fingers already rubbing me, parting me, spreading my cunt open. "You don't understand. I have a room here. It's in your name, your fake name. I wanted to meet you, fuck you, and come back to the party... You're not..."

"June, what... I'm not what, June?" I asked her, feeling her fingers slide inside my pussy. I had been moist from the moment I started getting dressed for this evening, and positively slick the moment I arrived. I pulled her hand closer to me, her fingers deeper into me with her palm flat against my clit.

"You're not my only lover here!" She spat out at me, seeing her well-laid plans falter before her eyes, and her anger and resentment at her husband bubbling out like her saliva did from the corners of her mouth. I swooned. I literally fucking swooned. She had set me up to whore me to one of her other lovers.

She pushed me back with her left hand, placing her hand at my sternum, moving it up to press against my collar bone, then placing her hand at the base of my neck, gently squeezing me. I placed my hands over hers, covered her hands at my neck and cunt with my own, signaling to her: 'Yes, It's OK... I understand... I want this, too...'. The look in my eyes and the contractions of my cunt told her all she needed to know about how, even though sight unseen and gender unknown, I would have answered such an outlandish proposition. I wanted so much to kiss her, to tell her how excited she made me, to tell her yes I would have; I just wanted to kiss her.

"I wanted to tell you in the hotel room. He's here at the party. You would have wouldn't you? You would have spread your legs for him." She both asked and accused, her fingers moving faster and faster in me. Indeed, we did not have much time, nor would I last very long until I came. She let go of her grip on my neck and moved her left hand down to my right breast, took my nipple between her fingers, and then rolled it and pulled it between her gracious long fingers. She formed her fingernails in a crowning pinch around my nipple, squeezed very hard, and asked again: "You would have, wouldn't you?"

"Yesssssss," I hissed through clenched teeth, feeling her spread me wide almost lifting my body up with her hand, "Yes I would have!" I amazed myself that I agreed so quickly, under such circumstances, and that I remained standing. She pressed her hand flat against my breast, pushing me back against the wall, inflaming the marks from two days before. "Who...?" I started to ask before she cut me off.

"He's here. He's seen you." She leered at me while answering my question without telling me a single damn thing. She pressed her hand hard against my breast, flattening my breast against my body and my body against the wall, pressing my nipple between her thumb and forefinger. My hands went to my sides, flat against the wall, gripping for and finding no perch or handhold against the smooth surfaces of this enclosed scene.

Why was she telling me this, I thought. As clouded as my thoughts may have been, I retained at least basic deductive reasoning abilities. She had managed to hatch another plan, I was sure. "Please, June!" I begged, "Tell me what you want." Further speech was not possible, as I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming, to keep from moaning, to not let everyone in the bar know this woman was finger-fucking me to an imminent orgasm.

"He's leaving tomorrow. He's gone this weekend." She explained the imminent absence of her husband and the beginnings of her fallback plan, "He's coming over Saturday night. He's going to fuck me hard. He's cut, thick, gorgeous." she panted, describing either his cock or his body, or both. "I want to watch him fuck you, I want to watch him fuck your cunt and ass," she hissed, selecting that moment to add a third finger to my cunt, spreading me open even more, now spreading my breast against my body, pulling my nipple in every direction she moved her hand about, pressing me even harder against the wall. I was holding on for dear life, not wanting to fall over, not wanting to break our silent embrace. My hands grasped and clawed; She became my Mistress, tormenting my body and mind, turning me into a caged bitch in heat, and I fucking loved it!

"Say you'll come to me. Say it, Susan! Tell me you're a nasty slut, that you'll come to me Saturday night!" Her fingers really in me, the heel of her hand pressing against my clit, that familiar reservoir deep within me welling, bursting, flowing, ready to let loose. I could not believe this woman had me like this so quickly, so effortlessly. I could not believe I would be so easy for her. I begged her with my eyes to not make me speak, that I could not contain myself if I so much as opened my mouth; I begged her to leave me some reserve of dignity; even though I knew she would not. I knew, at that moment, that I would not deny her, neither then nor on Saturday evening.

"Say it!" She seethed at me through gritted teeth, her blue eyes aflame, and her soft look never more hard and serious than that moment. She added with her command a final vicious thrust of her fingers in my cunt, gripping me and lifting me, violently grinding her hand against my clit.

"YES! Oh G..." I wailed and moaned, agreeing to her plans, to her terms, while she moved her left hand from my breast to my mouth muffling my cry to the Almighty. Oh, God... The look in her eyes, her pressing my head back and pressing her body against mine, pressing me back against the wall, and then I lost it. Deep with in me my last reserve broke and I clenched and let loose for her, my cunt contracted then flared and pulsed on her hand, my hips grinding back and forth, my arms wrapping around her and pulled her even closer to me, and I came for her. I came and came and came. Her left hand never left my mouth and her right hand never left my cunt. Indeed, she now repeatedly pressed her body against mine with every stroke, meeting my gyrations with her own, pressing me back against the wall, fucking me back against the wall, fucking my cunt harder every time, her fingers spreading and splaying me wide with every stroke. When finally my body began settling into something resembling a normal rhythm, she pulled her fingers from my cunt and ran them up, pinching my clit hard, made me scream into her mouth, and buckling my knees. She pulled me down off the wall and guided me down, sitting me on the toilet. My breasts still hung down, my dress bunched around my waist, and my bare ass against the toilet seat cover.




A Day & Two Nights



She stood back, took in this sight, and smiled. She made a lewd display of licking and sucking clean each finger that she had used to fuck my cunt then came over and towered above me. She bent over and took my left nipple into her right hand, gave to this nipple the mixture of pleasure and pain she had given to the other, pulling and pinching my nipple between her fingers. She placed her left hand on the back of my neck, took hold of my hair, and yanked my head back. She leaned closer to me, I opened my mouth waiting for her to do the same, waiting for the sensation of her lips on mine, her tongue on mine, for us to share a kiss. This was not to be, as I found out when she held her mouth above mine, pursed her lips, and then spat the mixture of my cum and her saliva into my waiting mouth. She released my hair and my nipple and I closed my mouth then hung my head down, the sensations both physical and psychological overcoming me. Involuntarily, I savored this new taste in my mouth as I squeezed my legs together and cupped my tortured breasts with my hands.

"Susan?" She asked, looking for my attention.

I still had not regained the power of conversation, so I looked her evenly in the eyes and nodded for her to continue.

"I'll send a car for you, on Saturday. I'll have them pick you up at your place at 9:00. I'll need to have your last name; you'll need to tell me so I can tell them. What is it?" She asked and waited, making sure I understood her.

I mumbled it to her, and then asked for hers.

She ignored my question with a smile, and continued: "You'll come to my place, he'll come over once you're there. He's tested and clean. I am too. Are you? Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

My cunt gave an involuntary twitch when I realized what she was saying: That her lover fucked her bareback, and would fuck me the same way. I nodded and mumbled my understanding, and my consent to this.

"I need to go. I will see you on Saturday." She turned, unlocked the door, and closed it behind her. I leaned over and locked the door after she left.

I heard the sounds of her washing her hands and then waited for her to leave the ladies room before I stood up, smoothed my dress down, and re-attached my halter-top. My nipples screamed in protest; thus eliciting from my body and mind price of my passions. She had left me marked yet again, and I wondered what other marks I would receive on Saturday night. I regained my balance as I stood up, left the stall, and approached the mirror. My mussed hair, smeared lipstick, and dazed expression looked back at me from the mirror. I composed myself, fixing my smile, and quickly fluffing my hair back into place. I washed my hands for the fourth time in 15 minutes then left the room.

June and her party had moved to one of the tables off to the side of the bar. She was sitting back, legs crossed, now with sunglasses hiding her eyes, looking Mod, stylish, and enthralling those around her. She gave no overt notice of me, yet I sensed her giving her hips an involuntary clench as she unbuttoned her coat and lay back on the couch. I quickly averted my gaze and found a spot at the now-crowded bar.

I was about to order my third apple martini when the bartender set down a shot glass containing some layered concoction in front of me. Equal parts Irish Cream, Kahlua, and Midori; I recognized the drink immediately. I also knew who had sent me this drink. I dismissed him and his unctuously discreet demeanor with a flash of my eyes. I held up the drink, turned in profile to June, and in one fell swoop swallowed the sweet mixture of this 'Quick Fuck' while still feeling the effects of the other quick fuck.

I left soon after that. I did not look for June's (and my soon to be) other lover. I knew the search would be fruitless, and I wanted to keep it as fantasy until Saturday evening. He did fuck me that evening, though; with June, my lover, the Moon holding me in her luminescent embrace. I let my favorite jelly vibe take his place; fucking my cunt hard and fast until I rolled to my side presented my ass to his surrogate cock. I fell asleep alone, sated for the moment, and yearning for more.

The intervening days passed in a blur of work and working out, then Saturday sprung heavy and turbulent, capable of change at a moment's notice. I took my coffee black, bitter, it's fragrant earthy aroma rolling my mind awake. Thoughts of June and her lover, never far from my mind, came back in full force for quite some time until I noticed the passage of time. I had spent the morning with my mind locked in a battle between the virtues of caution and reckless abandonment while my coffee had grown cold in my lap.

I showered and dressed. My thinking being that, like all ambivalent moods, a shopping trip often strikes the perfect balance between apprehension and inaction, I found my way down to Spring Street in the Village. My mind did find distractions as I acquired a few winter things on sale at one store, then switched seasons and stores and picked up a fun frilly gingham print summer dress, and then got some sassy cosmetics at a third store.

Feeling better about myself, or at least feeling better about placing my mind elsewhere, I made my way to Washington Square Park, content to get some coffee and watch the day pass. Time would move without any thought by me, but my decision would not. Or could it? Could I just not be home at 9:00, not be there when the driver came to deliver me to June, pass up this her latest invitation? No. Abdicating on a decision still selects a course of action, and I have not desire to move through my life choosing my destiny through avoidance. Besides, by dismissing this invitation, I knew there would be no others, and I wanted there to be others. I would go to June this evening, to see if her scene matched my mood. If it did not, I would leave. If it did, then I would let our combined mood carry the evening. Above all else, I would be the mistress of my own destiny.

With a renewed sense of balance and purpose, I walked along the streets lining the north side of the park, looking for a particular boutique mentioned in passing by a 'friend' some weeks ago. Finding the place proved elusive, but rewarding. Their shoe collection displayed along one wall, with everything from ankle-strap pumps to thigh-high leather boots. Mannequins displayed a few of their dresses: A liquid metal strapless mini-dress in ruby red with keyhole cutouts on both sides; a slinky long velvet evening gown in royal blue with a slit high up one side and a scoop-front plunging neckline exposing both cleavage and belly button; and on and on. My 'friend' was right: This store had a very fun, daring, exciting collection of club-wear and party dresses.

Reasoning they would be on my body longer than the dress, I started with the shoes. I spied a pump, a simple sleek black satin D'Orsay pump, with a 4" heel and an ankle strap. The salesgirl mysteriously and majestically appeared at my side as soon as I held this shoe in my hand. Yes, they had my size. They looked incongruous when I tried them on, matched as they were with my casual wear, yet I could feel my calves and ass flex under my jeans, and reasoned with one of the dresses lining the racks behind me, I would look delicious.

With the shoes in hand, I next went looking for a dress. One caught my eye, a rose-pattern lace dress with four ties on each sides and even the spaghetti straps tied behind the shoulders to the back of the dress. It did not have a lining, my fingers almost visible under the nearly opaque and very delicate fabric. The dress I pulled out was two sizes too large for me. The salesgirl nodded approvingly, dug into another rack, and emerged with the same dress in my size. Both dress and shoes went with me back to find a dressing room.

I stripped down nude before slipping my new shoes on. I was right, the lines of the shoes worked well with my toned legs and ass. Putting the dress on worked best if I untied one set of the side ties, slipped the top over my head, pulled the rest of the fabric around my body, and then reattached the open side of the dress. The ties on each side allowed me to cinch and pull the fabric, to adjust and move my breasts, until the dress became a second skin. The back hem of the dress was just long enough to cup and hug around my ass, the bodice curved around my body, and the cinched side and shoulder straps lifted my breasts. Sitting down on the chair in the dressing room and facing the mirror, my cunt peeked out from between my uncrossed legs. Standing and approaching to the mirror, I could just barely discern the outline of my nipples through the lace. This dress was decadent to the point of indecency, was truly lingerie masquerading as eveningwear, and I loved it.

The salesgirl waited behind the counter, waiting patiently for me to emerge from the dressing room. She made mention of and motioned to a selection of chokers and necklaces displayed behind the counter. Initially dismissive, I noticed a set of satin chokers embossed with roses in a selection of colors. Accessories should always unite the shoes and clothes, as did one black satin choker embossed with black roses. Lightning struck thrice as they had my size, the salesgirl helping attach the choker snugly around neck. I faced the mirror behind the counter, pulled my hair back, moved my head side to side, and loved the look. The signal conveyed by such a thing would be as unmistakable as those sent by my ankle-strap pumps and peek-a-boo dress. The choker tightened around my neck as I threw my head back. I remembered June, how she had placed her hand there, on my neck, how I had placed my hand on hers, how she had gently squeezed, just as I had wanted her to.

Five hundred dollars later I had my outfit for the evening. Sometimes your body pays the price of passion; sometimes you get to use American Express. No matter: The bill always comes due.

I got home with 4 hours to prepare. I first set about preparing my body, cleansing myself inside and out, then removing any unwanted body hair, and then resting in a tub full of scalding hot water and rose-scented bath oil. I emerged from my bath, scented, slick, pink, and smooth. Body oil came next; in the same scent as the bath oil, to my neck and shoulders, to my arms and chest, to my breasts and tummy, to the full length of my legs and between my thighs, and in the furrow of the cheeks of my ass.

I let my body absorb the oil and exude the scent as I did my make-up, black matte kohl lining my eyes mixed black matte eye shadow a coal black eye lashes, clear gel shaping and defining my brows, and a luscious wet red lipstick applied to my mouth. My eyes would smolder beneath the mask, emphasizing my mouth. This is what I wanted. I remembered thinking that men probably thought June had the 'perfect cock-sucking mouth' and I wanted June and her lover to think the same of mine. I wanted him to notice when I talked and smiled, notice of my lips, to imagine them wrapped around his cock; when he looked at my mouth, I wanted him to see a cunt.

After using some gel to tame and style my hair into a loose French braid and quickly doing my nails in a red shade reminiscent of my lips, I noticed the time would not allow anything more than slipping my dress into place, locking my feet into my heels, and embracing my neck with my choker. My coat and purse stood ready by the front door, waiting for the call summoning me into the disturbingly dark night. I caught my reflection while walking around my apartment, walking off my nervous energy, and feeling the shoes the dress the choker constricting and exposing my body. My appearance was overt, conspicuous, and sexual. I looked like a whore. My body tensed at this revelation. My left hand moved from my side to between my legs, my dress came up as my middle finger found then rubbed my clit, my cunt clenching then flowering, opening itself to my finger. I had moved beyond being moist or damp to being slick and wet. I brought my finger to my mouth and tasted my arousal, realizing as well that I felt exactly as I looked, when the concierge called, announcing the driver had arrived.

It was a quick 15-minute ride up Eighth Avenue to June's Central Park West apartment, and then another couple of minutes in the elevator up to her floor, door-to-door in 20 minutes. Her apartment took up the entire floor, and I stepped from the well-lit elevator into the dimly lit foyer. The elevator doors closed behind me, delivering me into this dark recess, seemingly closing off my last means of escape. Just as I was about to call out her name, June appeared in the doorway, silently sweeping her right hand back, inviting me into her lair.

The gallery held scarcely more light than in the foyer, yet the ambient light gathered around her body, giving her an appearance best described as luminescent. Her frosted hair slicked black from her sharply angular face, her shaped and plucked eyebrows framing her sparkling blue eyes, the long string of pearls wrapped around her neck and dangling down between her breasts all served to draw attention to her mouth. With her full sensual lips coated in a gloss a few shades lighter and brighter than my own, she had done as I had done by presenting hers as the 'perfect cock-sucking mouth'.

I shook off my coat, handing this and my purse to her, which she placed in the closet to the right, thus giving me a full view of the beautiful gown she wore. The ivory silk of her dress flowed simply over her body, presenting new lines and surprises as she moved back and forth before my eyes. Dual triangles, little more than strips of cloth, hung down from the halter-top just barely covering her nipples and areola. The plunge of her gown exposed much of her flat, toned abdomen, the twin V's of her dress and the pearl necklace serving to accentuate the length of her body. Turning her back to me, I noticed the tie of her halter-top, long silk strings dangling between her shoulder blades, leaving her back fully exposed down to the supple curves of her ass. The open slit on the right side of her gown extended past her hip, completely revealing her leg as she moved back into the gallery.

She walked past me into the living room, setting herself down on the left side of the couch facing the gas lit fireplace. Bejeweled open-toed sandals covered in a silk matching her gown adorned her feet, ankle straps holding them firmly in place. The length of her heels matched mine, meaning she still had an inch on my enhanced height. I followed her into the living room, moving around the coffee table to take my seat on the other side of the couch, setting myself down like her on the edge of the couch with knees pressed together. On the coffee table stood a bottle of very expensive vodka, three tumblers, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and an ashtray. She pulled two cigarettes from the pack as I busied myself pouring us a couple of liberal drinks, she lit both cigarettes at the same time, handing me one as I passed her drink to her. We clinked our glasses together in a silent toast, both of us taking long drags on our cigarettes after, letting the exhaled smoke add to the room's atmosphere. We were alone, for the time being.

"I love your dress," she started our conversation, "something new?"

"Yes," I answered, "I got it just this afternoon at a boutique I found in the Village."

"Is that also where you got that?" She asked, nodding to my satin choker.

"Yes and the shoes." I said, nodding down to my feet.

She took another drag from her cigarette, perched it on the lip of her ashtray, and then leaned back into the deep plush couch. She crossed her left leg over her right, letting the silk of her gown slide over her legs. Her legs shined, her pearls lustrous between her breasts, and her eyes sparkled, all from the light of the fire. I smiled as I set my cigarette next to hers after matching her drink for drink.

"And your dress?" I asked, turning my body to face her.

"A shop in Madison" was all the answer I got from her. She switched subjects, "I'm pleased you're here."

Shooting her a look, I asked her "Pleased I am here or pleased with yourself that you got me here?"

She threw her head back and laughed at that one. "Both, of course! You want to be here as much as I want you here." She pulled her right to behind her head, resting back against her hand. With her gown cut from a single piece of silk, meeting at a point just above her left hip, her right side almost completely exposed to me. Her gown was as long and flowing as mine was short and form fitting, hers displaying her lithe and supple body while mine served to accentuate my curves, even the fabrics and colors we chose contrasted and complimented each other. That and we have very similar taste in shoes.

She was right, in a way, with her comment about me wanting to be there. I could not deny that once I decided to accept her invitation, I jumped in with both feet. "And who else is coming over tonight?"

"He'll be here later. Right now is just about us." She extended her right hand to me, holding my hand as we talked. I envied her ease in this, how she created this scene, how it matched her mood; and how she made things open and inviting, letting me evaluate things before I committed further than I already had.

"I almost didn't make it" I admitted, "I sat and thought I could just not be home when the car came for me."

If this surprised her, her expression betrayed no outward sign of this. "What made you want to come here?" She asked while looking away and taking another sip of her drink.

"Just that I wanted to make a choice," I said, "to decide for myself what would happen; I don't like avoiding things. I've never regretted what I've done, but I have regretted what I've passed up. Does that make sense? Besides, we're just holding hands and having a drink. We haven't done anything besides that."

"Yet" she finished my sentence for me.

"Yet" I agreed and laughed.

"And yes, I know what you mean. For years, the houses, the vacations, the clothes were enough. Then suddenly they weren't and I wanted out." She explained, surveying her surroundings. "I wanted to be single again, and I told him I was leaving. He threw a fit." She grimaced, remembering the fights while drowning the bad memories with another drink of vodka.

"Obviously you resolved your differences." I led her on with my statement.

"In a way, yes. He reminded me that our pre-nup would leave me single, and broke. I didn't want to be another middle-aged woman selling perfume or shoes at Bergdorf's that I couldn't afford," she sniffed at the thought, "so I stayed. He told me he didn't care if I had another life, so long as I was discreet and was there when he needed me. Having a social wife for charity balls and the like helps his career."

"What do you get out of this?" I asked, knowing she is smart enough to take care of herself.

"Isn't that obvious?" She laughed at my question, yet again answering my question with one of her own. "I get the houses, the vacations, the clothes, and I have my other life. He doesn't know, doesn't want to know, and I make sure nobody ever finds out. That was over 10 years ago, Susan, and I haven't regretted anything since."

I lifted my glass to my lips; it was my turn for a drink. While not the first married lover in my life, I marveled at how she came into this arrangement before creating her other life. I imagined her first tentative steps, placing discretion over enjoyment, until she established her own rhythm and discovered her own tastes. I smiled at her, bowing my head to her signaling both my understanding and admiration.

"What about you?" She asked, my turn to share.

"Nothing so dramatic as that," I said, "I didn't marry well and I married too young. We divorced when I was 25 after three years waiting for each other to change. I had 'bought' into what everyone else said I should do, and avoided making my own choices, until like you I wanted out. There wasn't a gilded cage keeping me there," I said with a sweep of my eyes, inferring that I recognized hers for what it is, " and I did become single, broke, and alone. But, it was my life to lead."




A Day & Two Nights



"To Freedom!" She smiled and raised her glass to mine.

"To Freedom!" I echoed her and clinked my glass against hers. We understood each other perfectly.

I leaned over to kiss her then, when her hand moved to my shoulder, holding me back. "That comes later, after he's gone." I immediately understood: this her placing the sexual before the intimate.

I placed my empty glass on the coffee table and pulled another cigarette from her pack. After lighting it, and taking a long drag, I leaned my left side against the couch, bending my left leg under me and sitting on it, and then rested my right hand on my right leg. "When does he get here?"

"We have a few more minutes. He knows better than to be early, or late." Yo-yo cock, I thought. She has him on a string, pulling it close and wrapping it in her palm when she wants, then letting go after.

"And then what?" I teased her, wondering just what I could elicit from her.

"What do you think will happen?" She asked, pulling the cigarette from my fingers and taking a drag.

"Well, I don't know. I'm here to find that out." I said, scooting closer to her until my left leg again touched hers, feeling my dress ride up my hips. "Do you know what will happen?" I asked, fixing my eyes on hers with an even look.

"Yes" she answered my question and my look.

"What?" I hid my surprise by turning and looking into the blue flames of the fire.

"To share an evening with you. Unhurried, and unrushed. To share my lover with you, then share my body with you. Sharing everything between us." She almost whispered to me, placing the cigarette back in my fingers.

"How did you meet him?" I asked, indulging again in our mutual oral fetish.

"Does it matter?" She shot back, answering yet another of my questions with a question, accompanied as it was by her amused expression.

"I thought, from the party, you only wanted to share me with him. I thought you wanted to arrange it so you could see." I looked back at her, noticed her shaking her head back and forth, and I asked with arched eyebrow and a drag on the dwindling cigarette, "You're not a voyeur?"

"Sure, that's part of it," she started, pulling the cigarette from my fingers, "but not all of it. If all I wanted to do was watch him fuck, which I have done before, I would have arranged something different. I'd have gotten an escort." She waved in the air, dismissing the thought and her exhaled smoke

"What's so different about me?" I pressed her on the point.

"Is that how you feel?" She turned the question back to me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, playing coy with her.

"Do you feel like that now, like you're turning a 'trick'?" She finished her point, zeroing in on the point she wished to make.

"Sometimes, I don't know, I mean, maybe. It depends on my mood, I suppose." I babbled on.

"Susan," she startled me with her sharp tone, "I don't want to know if you sometimes feel like that. I want to know if you feel like that right now." She passed the cigarette back to me.

My mind raced back to the scene in my apartment, just before the call from the front desk announcing the driver had arrived, and how my look and feelings matched each other perfectly. I took a long last pull from the cigarette, stubbed it into the ashtray, exhaled long into the air, and nodded my head as I leaned back into the couch.

"Susan," she placed her hand on the back of my neck, turning me to face her, "how do you feel right now?"

I swallowed hard, proudly lifted my chin, exposing my neck and choker to her, and told her: "Like a whore."

She smiled at my revealing this to her. "Do you like feeling this way?"

I placed my hand on her thigh; she uncrossed her legs, and met my gaze. "Right now? Yes. Yes, I do. Do you?"

"Your mouth is perfect." She non-answer answered my question. She missed her true calling, I thought: She should have been a tax attorney.

"For what?" I asked even though I knew the answer.

"For sucking cock." Came the expected answer. "You like doing that, don't you." My hand gripped her thigh, my mind recalling all the number and manner of cocks I had sucked. "Are you a good cock-sucker, Susan?" I pressed my face closer to hers, seeking to kiss her, when her left hand found my braid and held me in place. "Answer me."

I gave her a non-verbal answer. I pulled my smile wide, leaving my mouth open and wet in front of her, and licked my lips.

"Do you know what I remembered most about our first time?" She asked, glancing over at our two empty glasses.

I took her hint and poured her another liberal drink, filling my glass after having done so. We clinked our glasses again, toasting the moment, savoring the taste and the feeling. I nodded for her to continue.

"You did things in reverse." My apparent confusion showed, and she explained: "The first place I felt your tongue was on my ass. You only licked my pussy after I rolled over. It wasn't until after that that you even bothered kissed me!"

"You didn't seem to mind" I shot back at her. She was right, of course. I had savored that moment from the moment it had happened.

"No, I liked it" she went on, rubbing her leg against mine. "I liked your tongue on my ass, in my ass. You're good at it."

"Thank you," I accepted her compliment without shame, "I had thought of doing that the moment you laid down on my bed." I pressed my knee back against hers. "I had this image of you, bent over, or on your hands and knees, with my hands spreading your ass."

"You'll do that again, you know." She declared, nodding towards me, as if stating a self-evident truth.

"Do what again?" I teased.

"Lick my ass" she finished her thought as she took another drink. I did the same, though unlike her, I extended my tongue to taste the rim of the glass, sensed her watching this, while I wondered if her body relived the sensation of me rimming her ass while my vodka slipped past my lips.

"Do you know what I've noticed about our times together?" I asked after finishing my erotically ostentatious drink.

"What?" she said with a bemused smile.

"I may have done things in reverse, but you're stuck on second base." I gave her a look, accusing her of timidity, and then finished with a tease, "For all I know, you don't like doing that."

"Oh," she assured me, "I do. We just haven't gotten to that."

"Yet" My turn to finish her sentence for her.

"Yet" she agreed with a laugh.

She moved her hand around to the front of my neck, tracing her fingers over my choker, seeming to notice the detail of the embossed black roses, receiving both the signal implicit in such a thing, and the feel of my pulse. "Are you staying?" Came her simple question.

"Yes" I said without hesitation.

She circled her fingers around my neck, gently squeezing me. "Tonight's going to be rough. You understand that, don't you?"

"I understand," I told her, even though I really did not.

We sat there, looking at each other, her with images of what would be flashing through her mind, and me wondering what these images were. Yes, I remained the mistress of my own destiny. For that night, I knew my destiny lay in her very capable hands.

Her phone rang; she leapt at the sound, scurrying to answer by the second ring, her long gown flowing behind her. Her lover had finally arrived. She beckoned me to follow her, to stand with her in her foyer, waiting for his arrival. The doors opened and out he came, sensing the same tumult I had when I emerged from the light into the dark of June's apartment. His, no doubt, assuaged by previous experience.

I did recognize him. He was the same tall beefy hunk who had manned the velvet rope at the party two nights ago. If I had to guess his heritage, I would place him as Cuban, Dominican; African and Latin bloodlines mixed deep and running coursing through the veins of his thick neck and arms, with a height a couple or a few inches over 6', and his head and face as bald as my cunt. He wore black slacks, black shoes, and under his black leather coat sported a black muscle tee showing this side of beef regularly frequented one of the muscle gyms which dot Manhattan. Yes, tonight would be a very rough evening.

June made quick introductions as he had obviously already recognized me from that party. She gave his name as Carlos with a sweep of her hand up his body. June announced me by name to him and did not present me so much as she presented my body by taking my hand and twirling me before him. We exchanged very few pleasantries, mainly him complimenting June and I on our revealing outfits. With June leading me by her right hand, and me pulling his huge left hand with my right, we circled back around the left of the elevator, down a dark hallway, to the smallest of June's three apartments.

Neither artwork nor furniture cluttered the room; save a full-sized platform bed centered in the room, platform being the operative word, as the low-slung frame sported neither head nor footboard, with the mattress more hard than firm. June flipped a switch and circle of recessed lighting above the bed illuminated it, giving it the appearance of a halo. It was as if those on the bed could do as they wished while others could remain hidden by the shadows on the periphery of the bed. A simple white sheet covered the bed, with no comforters or blankets or even a top sheet getting in the way. Incongruous to the rest of her apartment, a deep cut pile carpet went wall-to-wall in this room. June closed and locked the door behind us. True, there was nobody else in her apartment; just another signal sent to the players of June's little scene.

As if by some pre-arranged signal, he took position behind me. His hands pulled mine behind me, gently holding me in place while letting me know I was not going anywhere. June went over to the closet lining the wall next to the door, reached in, and produced a pair of lined leather cuffs. My look of surprise must have registered even though the shadows of the room.

"We've done this before." She explained the obvious, passing the cuffs to him, and then bringing her hands to my breasts after that.

"I can tell. The others were the escorts you told me about?" I asked, noticing a nervous edge slipping into my voice as Carlos quickly and expertly slipped the cuffs over my gathered wrists.

"True rough trade whores are hard to come by," his baritone voice reverberated from behind me. "Besides," he continued, "They don't let the dog go raw." If his comment had not made me swoon at that moment, her fingers pinching my nipples through the lace of my dress did.

"You asked where we met, Susan," she purred, barely looking up from taking delight in the sight of her hands on my body, "Carlos is my kickboxing instructor. And no, you're not the first woman we've had in here."

My hands secure behind me, Carlos let his hands move my sides through the many openings in my dress. For such a strong man he had a very soft touch, his fingers teasing me until his hands rested on my hips.

"Have you had many back?" I thought I better held my nervousness in, but by delivering my question in a flat monotone barely above a whisper, my voice signaled more than it had before.

"Some," she said, smiling at the thought, but then added "Sometimes they get scared, sometimes they break."

I gulped; I actually and audibly gulped at her comment. At the same time, Carlos pressed his still covered cock into my open hands. More like, he pulled my bound hands up to his crotch, but whatever. One can never tell until the actual article is in one's hands, or mouth, or cunt, or ass, yet from his turgid and growing length I could tell that June had not exaggerated when she had told me about his cock.

"Do you like that?" I mumbled out, feeling her hands reaching between my thighs, Carlos helpfully lodging one of his thick legs between mine.

"Scaring them?" She again answered my question with one of her own.

"Breaking them," I exhaled as her fingers began teasing my clit.

"Yes" she said, elongating the sibilant until it filled the room.

"You need breaking, little girl?" Nobody had called me a 'little girl' in quite some time, and at my height plus 4-inch heels, they rarely do. Yet, considering her inch and his three inches on me, I was indeed the little girl in the room, not to mention that my weight plus hers probably just barely matched his. "Do you?" he asked again, accentuating his point with a pull of my hair.

I was dizzy then. My fate firmly in their hands, and I would not have selected another time and place for this, for all the tea in China. My sibilant matched hers as I answered his question with a "Yes" all my own.

June noticed this immediately. She instructed him to hold my head back, then told me to open my mouth. I did, willingly. I opened my mouth and extended my tongue, watched her through slit eyes take my mouth in her right hand, holding my jaw open. Her face approached mine, her mouth pursing and gathering, and then her pursed lips spat her saliva into my mouth and on my lips. She let it stay there, this lone strand of her saliva, until her finger wiped it clean, for the moment preserving my lipstick.

Both their right hands rested on my shoulders then, hers on my left and his on my right. With a pull of the strings, they untied the shoulder straps on my dress. I continued massaging his cock through his trousers, feeling his length and width take shape. The ties at the sides of my dress were next, my dress peeling down my front and back, exposing my breasts to June.

She took and held my breasts in her hands, signaling him to continue. He did as she instructed, simultaneously pulling the strings at my rib cage and then at my hips while she massaged my nipples erect and began pinching and pulling them, much as she had done Thursday evening. The dress now hung by the strings around my thighs, my pussy exposed to her as my ass was to him. He pulled both these remaining strings at the same time, separating my dress into its two parts, and let it fall to my feet. I stood there between my two lovers, feeling more exposed than nude, feeling the constrictions around my neck, my wrists, and my ankles.

June reached down and pulled the gathered fabric away from my feet. Standing back up she spun me around back into her arms, facing me to Carlos. He took the hint and pulled this muscle tee over his head, commenting to June how hot my body looked. His shoes came next, kickboxing them into the corner. She pulled my hair back, pulled my ear to her mouth, told me she wanted me on my knees in front of him. She wanted him to pull his pants off then place his cock in my mouth. She wanted to watch me suck his cock.

For whatever reason I decided this was the perfect time to exhibit my 'smart-assed masochist' tendencies. "Make me" I dared her while smiling at him.

The salesgirl at the cosmetics counter, when I bought my other things, had tried to sell me a concealer that admittedly did almost perfectly match my skin tone. I had demurred, I am fortunate in that I rarely if ever need such a thing; but had not planned on what would happen next.

With a measured and icy tone, June told Carlos to come over to where we stood. He grinned, perfect white teeth lining his smile. June held my head by my hair, firmly exposing my jaw to him. With a measured gesture he fitted my jaw with his left hand, pulled his right hand back, and smacked me clean across my proffered left cheek. My head yanked right before June yanked my head back in place, never loosening her grip on my hair.

"Hit her again, Carlos. She won't break." She spoke over my shoulder to him, assuring both of us with her smooth tone. His look froze for a moment, just a moment, necessitating her to tell him in her sharpest tone yet: "I said, 'Slap this cunt'."

Slap me he did, his open palm striking the left side of my face, harder this time than the time before. June let go of me the moment his hand struck me, letting the force of his slap spin me until I feel to the bed. I rolled over in a daze, noticed them standing there, his open palm resting at his side, and her seemingly ready to pull me back up to my feet and let him strike me again. He gave the look of a wild beast ready to unleash a pain he found pleasurable as she did upon my waiting body, and her look actually dared me to be a smart-ass with her again. No, I thought, not now. For now, I would be a very good girl.

My cheek began to swell as they pulled me from the bed, sitting on my legs in a supplicating position under June while facing Carlos. His shark-tooth smile calmed down to a wide-mouthed grin and he proceeded to undress. With a flourish, he undid his belt and unzipped his pants, and let them fall to his feet. I knew from my previous explorations he had not bothered wearing anything under his slacks, from which he stepped out naked as the day he was born.

Indeed, as June had described, he was impressive, and yet impressive was an understatement. His smooth body tapered from his broad shoulders to his muscled chest, his ripped abdomen leading inexorably to his groin. His public hair trimmed back to a patch and framed his jutting cock, with his bare balls hanging below. Shiny precum coated the head of his cut cock, dripping down and glistening in the light. I have known some large cock in my day, and 'Oh, My!' did this man qualify as one of the larger cocks I had recently seen.

My mouth watered as my cunt clenched, imagining his cock sliding into the many passages of my body. My tummy tightened just then, recalling June's prophetic words that she would watch him fuck my cunt and ass. I imagined the soreness I would feel the next morning, matched by the slaps I had received to my face and those I would receive elsewhere; I imagined sharing this beautiful man with June, and I moaned.

June pulled my hair back again, motioning him to approach us. She knew the effect he had on women, as she had no doubt felt it herself, and as she said I was not the first woman she had invited to share him. I took her movements as a show that she truly savored this moment, the first time her gorgeous lover touched another woman with his cock. He approached us then, lifting his cock to my waiting mouth.

She stroked my hair back, purring to me to open my mouth wider, telling me I needed to suck him hard for her. I understood immediately, she wanted me to fluff him for her. He would fuck and ruin the look of my 'perfect cock-sucking mouth' while she readied herself for his cock. He teased me with his cock, letting the tip just rest on my tongue before pulling himself away. Efforts on my part to chase his cock made me look like a snapping turtle and met with the resistance of June pulling my head back away from his cock.

Finally, he rested his cock on my tongue long enough for me to wrap my lips around him and then suck him in. He began sliding his caramel treat deeper in me, pressing his head deeper into my mouth with every stroke. I opened my mouth, sat my hips on the backs of my heels, and invited his cock deeper into my mouth with every stroke. I stuck my tongue out, let his cock rest deep in me, my throat relaxed, feeling him just barely press against the back of my throat. Saliva freely escaped my mouth to my chin just as his ample precum leaked onto my waiting tongue.

He enjoyed the wet sucking of my mouth; he enjoyed pulling his slick cock completely from my mouth and circling my lips with his drooling cock before letting me suck him again. He playfully slapped my face and lips with his cock, smearing my saliva and his precum all about my face. He slid back into my mouth, resting his right hand on the top of my head, bobbing my mouth back and forth on him, feeling my mouth open and my tongue extend until my mouth freely flowed and my chin was covered and as slick as his cock. His bobbing my mouth on his cock produced more precum and saliva, my open mouth letting it seep out, until I felt the thick gooey strands extending from my chin to my breasts. Had my hands been free, I would have continued sucking his cock while pretended this was his cum on my breasts and massaged this delicious mixture into my skin.




A Day & Two Nights



From my angle, I could just barely look up at him. I sensed them passing self-congratulatory looks between them over luring another woman into their trap. I questioned whether a willing woman qualifies as a trapped woman when their revelry broke my reverie. They freely traded banter about me knowing I would not interrupt them. He told her I am an excellent fellatrix, which pleased her. She could feel me bouncing back between her thighs and his cock, impaling my mouth on him with every move. She placed her hand on top of his, both on top of my head, and then pressed her knees into my back until his cock slid as far into my mouth as possible.

His control was amazing. He pressed and prodded, gently sliding his cock down deep until I felt his balls pressing against my slick chin and his coarse kinky pubic hair tickling the end of my nose. He held himself like that, feeling my mouth mold to his cock and my well-conditioned throat wrap around and accept the head of this cock, and feeling my tongue massage and stroke the front side of his glorious tool. He cried out, telling June what a well-trained cock-sucker I am, and then June reminded him not to cum just yet.

With an exclamation and a moan, he held my head still and eased his cock from my mouth, pulling with it all the gathered saliva and precum out over my lips. I could not see but could feel my mouth a wet sticky mess, my lipstick ruined I am sure and saliva surrounding my lips and dripping from my chin until, to the untrained eye, one would have thought he had cum in my mouth. Still tasting his precum mixing with my saliva and savoring the mixture, I gathered what remained into a singular yummy pool on my tongue, and then swallowed hard. He moved off to the bed, laying back and stroking his cock, waiting for June. She pulled me back up to my knees, lifting me forcefully by my hair, and then came around to my front. Her hands still held my head back; she lowered her mouth to mine, and in an act both sensuous and lewd, licked the combined saliva and precum from around my mouth.

She stood back from me, letting her right hand reach behind her neck and untie the back of her halter-top. The ivory silk of her gown cascaded down her body, bringing to mind the dramatic nature of a waterfall. She came back to me, clad only in her pearls, her heels, and her smile. I remained kneeling by the side of the bed, with her lover lying on the bed, both of us waiting for her. Without a word or an instruction, she lifted the left leg of her glistening body to the bed, leaving her right on the floor, and waited for me. Yes, I had prepared his cock for her, and now I would prepare her cunt for him. I scooted forward on my knees; my hands still bound behind my back, and brought my mouth to her pink open cunt.

She had been like me the entire night, bypassing moist and damp while remaining slick and wet during our chat, while watching me suck his cock, ready for this very moment. I craned my neck, pressed my lips to hers, and let her pussy cover my mouth. She pulled my head to her, rubbing her pussy on my mouth, feeling my tongue slide in and around her cunt, imagining I am sure the feeling she would soon experience of having his cock slide deep inside of her. This urgency built up within her until she pushed me back until I sat again on my heels, my preparing her body complete, then turned to the bed and straddled his body.

June hung her long body lewdly over his, first licking his considerable length before licking up his body to his neck, rubbing her body against him and dangling her pearls over his body as she went. I positioned myself behind them, watched with bridled envy as he reached down and nuzzled the slick head of his cock against her slick hairless cunt. Splitting her just so, his hands went to her hips, as she used her left hand to help guide his cock into her body. Lowering herself on him elicited shudder after shudder through her body while his hands spread her ass forcing her to take his full length within seconds of placing his cock between her legs.

She placed herself upright on his body, grinding her ass back down against his spread legs, accommodating herself to his abundant size. Feeling herself finally stretched and opened by his glorious tool, she went back to hands and knees, her hands continually grasping at the single sheet covering the bed. He placed his hands back to her hips, spreading her ass, giving me an unobstructed view. He was bouncing her up and down on his cock, enjoying having her feel his considerable length, enjoying no doubt the squeeze and twitch of her pussy around his cock. Every time she came off his cock, every time she clenched and flexed her body, I could see her abundant lubrication coating him, creaming the length of his cock, pooling on his balls. Were my hands not restrained behind my back I would have been vigorously fingering myself; matching their energy with my own, yet the leather cuffs bound between my wrists would not let my hands free.

"Susan, GOD! Get over here!" She screamed in between moans celebrating this hale and hearty fucking she was giving herself, "God damn it, do something!"

I quickly moved to her side, kneeling beside her on the bed. What she wanted me to do I have no idea, bound as I was. "June, what do you want me to do? I can't move my hands!" I was just as excited she was, and even more frustrated.

"You stupid slut! You stupid fucking cunt! Get behind me, lick my ass, suck his balls, DO SOMETHING!" She screamed before throwing all her energy back into fucking his cock.

He pulled her flat against him, and held her there. Once flat, he again spread her ass, letting her anus peek out from between her cheeks. Yes, just as I had suspected so many nights before, she does enjoy rough anal sex. The only way I could do as she asked was to straddle his legs between mine, then place my body flat against his thighs, inching my face to her ass. She stopped fucking him long enough to let me get into place, then began pressing herself back feeling his cock and let my take tongue delight in pleasing her body.

"YES!!! That's it, you slut, you fucking whore! Lick my ass; slide your tongue in my ass! Fuck my cunt and ass harder!" I could do little to fuck her harder, though Carlos did his very best to make his wish come true. He continued moving her hips down on his cock, keeping her spread open, letting my tongue lick then press against her ass. I licked up from the base of her cunt, spreading a mixture of her lubrication and my saliva over her ass, before pointing my tongue, and pressing into her. I wanted nothing more than to double her penetration, to have her feel his cock slide deep in her pussy as my tongue slid into her ass.

"The little slut's licking my ass, Carlos. I told you she's a nasty whore, I told you she's a cock-sucking slut!" She screamed at him, perhaps confirming her to this point unsubstantiated boasts about me, his deep baritone ringing agreement with her statements. That is what I was at that very moment, an ass-licking cock-sucking slut. I wanted nothing more than to feel my lovers cum, to help them cum with each other, to feel her as clench around my tongue as he pumped his cum so deep in her creamy cunt. I could sense from her movements, from her clenching, that she was getting so very close. With a final effort I covered my mouth over her ass then pressed my tongue into her, pressing past her resistance, letting her ride his cock and my tongue to a screeching orgasm. She was loud, abusive, nasty, and fantastic.

Soon she had had enough. She literally lifted herself off his cock, disengaging from him with a slick pop, pulling herself to her side with her knees pulled to her chest. Whatever veneer, control, or respectability she had at the beginning of this scene, for the moment it was lost. I remained where I was, straddling his legs with his slick cock under my mouth. Without even so much as a moment's hesitation I began licking and sucking her cream from his cock. I cleaned her cum from him, from the tip of his cock down his glorious shaft, taking that pool of her cum from the base of his balls.

Moments after finishing my job, and before I would have quite willingly done it again, June was at my side. Invigorated by her moment's rest, her composure back, she pulled me off him and had me rest on my tummy in a tight fit between the two of them. Not a moment after that, Carlos rose from his spot on the bed and went between my legs, pulling my legs wide. He lifted me up to my knees, pressing my head against the bed, and began rubbing his still-erect cock against my cunt. He had not cum yet with his sense of urgency not in the least abated by June's descent into delirium.

June held her hand in mine, letting my bound hands grip something more than thin air. I tightly held her hand as Carlos began sliding his cock into my pussy. I could not see nor could I control how much of his cock I would take, and I suspected that Carlos would waste little time until his cock fully explored every inch of my pussy. He spread my lips, gently eased his cock head inside me, let me flare out and accommodate him, then pressed his full weight against me, sliding his cock deep in me in one fell swoop. I threw my head back in an involuntary gesture of pain mixed with delight, then let the pleasure cover the momentary sting of this invasion as he gripped my hips and fucked me back on his cock just as he had done with June less than 5 minutes before.

Oh, God... was he good. He knew when to let me feel his length, when to let his cock rest in my pussy, when to pull out and slap my cunt and ass with the head of his cock. June had this man well trained. He would not cum until I had, or until June told him to, or both. Realizing I was along for the ride, I contented myself to lay my head flat while keeping my legs open, desiring nothing more than to let my body be a warm wet tight inviting place for his cock and cum. More than once the man had me close before he sensed this and pulled himself back; much to June's delight I would push my ass back seeking the sensation of his cock filling me again, letting mewling begs escape my mouth, begging him to fuck me harder and harder.

There is a moment in every sweet surrender when your lover(s) realize and understand your needs better than you do. Indeed, at times, these needs seem as foreign as does the proverbial snowball in hell. Now was one of those moments when June left the bed for just a moment, sitting back down next to me facing Carlos. He continued his vigorous fucking of me, and I remained lost enough in my haze to not sense any of the signals which passed between them. It was with a start and a slight yelp that I did realize what they had next planned for my body when June, her finger holding a dollop of a cooling gel, began spreading this lubricant on my ass.

I flipped and bolted, or tried to in any event. Between his strong hands and huge cock, I was not going anywhere. June did her part too, switching to straddling my head and pressing her knees against my shoulders, holding me in place. I had had cock in my ass on numerous occasions before, but never in such a scene, and never with a cock quite so large as his. I resorted to begging them, genuinely concerned that his cock was too big to fit comfortably into my ass. Finally, June had had enough. She pressed her left hand between my shoulder blades, firmly pressing me to the bed, while Carlos held my hips keeping me impaled on this cock.

June moved to my side and bent over so she could look me in the eyes, and then talked to me. "Susan," she started, making sure she had my undivided attention, and that I would remain silent, "You cannot control whether this will happen or not. You can only control how it will happen. Do you understand this?"

Carlos kept fucking me, sliding his cock in and out of my cunt, and feeling me grip then loosen around him; opening my body to him as my mind took in this idea. I recalled his gentle touch in the beginning, how he gave everything with measured and controlled energy, and remembered how I had thought about this from the moment June mentioned this to me last Thursday. There was a gentle force behind her, the iron hand in the velvet glove pressing me by the back of my neck into the bed, and I relented. No, that is accepting destiny by default, and this night was not about that. I looked back at her, let her see my eyes as open to hers, as hers were to mine, and nodded.

She produced one of the pillows that had lay on the bed before Carlos had thrown them to the floor. She folded it, placed it under my tummy, and then resumed slicking my ass, preparing my ass for his cock. She slid her finger just into my anus, feeling me clench and then let go, feeling me let myself relax. When relaxed enough, she resumed her preparations using two fingers, each curled inside of me while she remained kneeling by my side, petting my hair back while dilating my ass.

"He'll take it slow, Susan. His cock will fit in your ass, but he'll take his time getting it there. You'll see." She cooed to me in a singsong voice. His cock kept me hot, her fingers kept me open, and her voice soothed my nerves until she nodded for him to continue.

It was h-u-g-e. His fabulous cock was long and hard, as I well knew from his deep fucking of my pussy. He first pressed his cock insistently against my anus, letting his weight and the abundant lubrication gently nudge his head into my ass, pressing his head just inside of me then rested while enjoying the feeling of my anus stretched and wrapped around his shaft. June stood at the ready, watching my ass stretch to accept him, readily applying more lubrication as his length began to descend deep into my ass. I had not told him how, yet he instinctively knew, that the best way for cock to service my ass was to inch in bit by bit letting me rest with each deeper intrusion, until his full length found its way into my ass. Perhaps June was the same, perhaps all women are; in any event I soon felt the front of his hips meet the curves of my ass and I found this filling sensation had quickly moved past discomfort to a gentle, tight buzz.

June continued to stroke and pet my hair, to stroke my back, to feel my breath quicken and rise then moderate the same with her hand on my back. I even let my bound hands relax, pulling them just a bit up my back, letting Carlos hold and control more of my body as he began sliding his cock in and out of my ass. His strokes quickened in me, surprising me that I found this lewd invasion so pleasurable so quickly, making my cunt begin to flare out again, begging for sensation or penetration or both. I began moaning in time with his increasingly vigorous thrusts, telling him yes I loved his cock in my ass when he asked, telling June she was right that he is a fabulous, talented lover. Indeed, our sharing had been as complete as I thought possible, until that point I could not have thought of what else we might share during this our first true night together.

He began first with a few play-spanks, delivered as I began to press back against him, as I began to fuck my ass back on his cock. Yes, it felt that good. I surrounded him as he filled me, as his well-timed and placed spanks brought color to my cheeks and increased the heat in my body. His stamina was amazing! Thus far, he had fucked my mouth, her pussy, my pussy, then my ass, without once needing a moment's rest. I suspected his recuperative abilities would impress me as well.

I began hinting, then begging, June to let me touch my clit. I begged Carlos to let me cum, then returned to June begging her to reach under my body and stroke my clit until I came. I tried reasoning with her, telling her I had thus far been a very good bad girl, which only elicited from her a wicked cruel laugh I instantly adored. Is this what they meant when they said they enjoyed breaking women, pushing them past previous barriers I asked? June only laughed her wicked laugh in answer.

I began kicking at him, trying to raise my heels back, pulling my feet up to knock him off his stride. He responded by deftly grabbing both my feet, bending my legs back by the knee, holding on to my spiked heels while continuing his powerful thrusts deep into my ass. His entire length was in me as his entire weight smothered me deeper into the bed. I began writhing under him, begging him and her "Please" followed by all manner of lascivious and lewd promises of what I would do if only they would let me cum for them. His hands pulled my legs up and tight making my ass grip his cock with every thrust of his hips; with every pump deep within me my ass stretched to take his full length inside me, as I had no man before him. His perspiration coated my back, his sweet breath caressed my neck, and I sensed his imminent release when June told him to let me up.

After easing his cock from my ass, June took the lead by rolling me over to my back. She kept my hands restrained behind me, then placed her bent knees back at my shoulders, straddling my face. It was not for me to lick her pussy that she did this, but for her to help hold me in place. Carlos took my legs in his hands, bending my legs back until my thighs pressed against my breasts, and completely exposed my ass to his cock. Exposed: no. I had exposed my body the moment I took my coat off after stepping into June's apartment. My ass lay open and vulnerable to what came next.

I looked up to June only to see her smile. She could tell from my breathing and the sheen of sweat covering me that I remained quite close to exploding before her eyes. This is what she wanted, I decided, but not to have me orgasm into a pillow or a bed sheet. She wanted to see my face and watch my eyes as Carlos fucked me to orgasm.

Though still dilated, Carlos used blessed patience and care when sliding his cock back into my ass. It was not long before I found myself bouncing my ass up and down on his cock, with Carlos first holding my legs spread wide and then bending them pressed flat against his chest. June added to my arousal by again pinching and pulling my nipples between her long fingers. At one point she pulled my nipples hard, forming cones from my breasts, shaking her fingers back and forth. My nipples were so erect, my cunt engorged from the repeated ass fucking delivered by Carlos, and my mouth retained the taste of her cum, her ass, and his cock. I was on the verge of tears when June, finally, let slip the fingers from her right hand from my breast and let then trail down my body to between my legs.

She instructed Carlos to hold me tight, to hold my legs flat and fast against his chest, knowing the inevitable clenching and squeezing of my ass around his cock served to engorge my cunt and clit to a point just South of bursting pressure. He did as told, sliding me back and forth on his cock by rocking my body against his, gyrating his hips back and forth, stretching my ass and filling me deep with his cock. When June's middle finger finally found its way between my legs, when she finally managed to slip her finger along my very full cunt, pressed together between my legs, when she finally reached and rubbed my clit, this trip-wire sprung free with an organic, orgasmic energy I thought not possible between such new lovers.

She held her finger in place just over my clit, letting Carlos's hip gyrations lift me and press me against her extended finger. Finally seeing this crescendo building to a fever pitch, she relented and furiously rubbed my clit in small hard fast circles, pulling the length of her finger against me as Carlos renewed sliding the length of his cock in and out of my ass. She placed her other hand on my chest, looked down from on high into my eyes, and told me to cum for her. I pulsed and shook, my hands pulling the sheets under my body, my contractions welling deep inside higher and higher in my body until the flowing sensation seemed to start at the top of my head and roll down over my body until it pressed down against her finger and his cock. I pulled myself up off his cock then pushed my ass back down, violently fucking my ass on his cock, pressing my clit against her finger, once more expelling this reservoir from my body. I letting it drain out of my body, let it pull down my spine, my vision growing fuzzy, and my head became dizzy as tingles swept from my fingers and toes to the center of my body then down to my twitching clit. With a final deep exhale I slid my ass down on his cock as far as it would go, pinioned between my two beautiful lovers, and I let my entire body relax.




A Day at Black's Beach



I lived in San Diego a long time before I decided to try Blacks Beach. When I finally went, I realized what I'd been missing. I love being nude outdoors but I didn't realize how much better it was being nude with hundreds of other nudists at the same time.

Anyway, today was only the second time I'd been to Blacks Beach, which is a nude beach at Point Loma in San Diego. I was ready to spend the whole day there. I had on my black, onionskin jogging shorts for the trip down the hill from the parking lot (It's about a 200 ft. hike down a steep cliff). I had my spray oil and a water pack. I also had a little smoke to help me relax.

I locked up my car and started down the cliff. I wanted to strip off my clothes before the hike down, but there are other businesses at the top of the cliffs, and that's where the shorts helped out. The liner in the jogging shorts was easy to move to the side and let everything hang free, so I pulled it to the side and let my cock and balls get some fresh air. It was quite exhilarating. I had to make some fairly large steps down the steep cliff which totally exposed me to anyone watching. But the closer I got to the beach the less it mattered. I passed a good looking blonde girl on the way up who was nude. She was looking up as I was stepping down a two foot step. She just kept starring as I passed by, which started to get me a bit aroused. That made it difficult to hike down as now the thin material was tickling my semi-erect cock with each step I took. I tucked it back into the liner quickly and pointed it down so I could continue without walking along with a tent in my shorts.

As I got to the bottom of the path to the beach, a man who must have been in his 40s was standing off to the side, nude, with his massive, well tanned cock sticking straight out. As I walked by he would reach up and stroke himself a bit and then stop. He kept repeating this as I walked away. (I looked back) I called him "The Greeter." When I got about 50 ft away he just started to openly wank himself off. My cock was reacting to the spectacle by pushing my thin lining further down. It wasn't that obvious to anyone who saw me, I don't think, but I didn't care anyway.

I was hot now from the hike and decided to start the day off with a swim. I found a good spot to drop my things including my shorts. I was still semi-erect but I figured as long as I didn't have a full on woody, nobody would mind. The water seemed like it was very far away. The stimulation from the sun, the wind, the walking and the other nude bodies all around was having an effect on me. About half way to the water I was sporting a full erection. I still had to pass some guys walking down the beach who started pointing at me. There was nothing I could do so I just kept going. My cock was swinging back and forth as I walked. After I passed the group, I jogged the rest of the way, but then it just bounced up and down. It actually felt great but was a bit embarrassing. I finally got deep enough into the water to swim and submerged myself.

Every once in a while some good sets of waves would roll in. I dove through several and when the water mellowed out a bit I could see around me. The beach here is enormous, stretching out in both directions for as far as you could see. At the tops of the cliffs the hang gliders were taking off and flying up and down the beach. The thought crossed my mind that if someone got too caught up in the scenery at the beach they might crash into the cliffs. I wondered if it had ever happened…

BLOOSSHH! I was slammed by a crashing wave. My face was planted into the sand at the bottom. I was swirling around in all directions. When I finally figured out which way was up again, another wave crashed down on my head. I was more ready this time and didn't fare so badly. I stood up, dazed, and looked around. I'd been washed back into shore and was only in two feet of water. The waves had taken my breath away and I decided to go back to the beach. The water was chilly enough to chill my member out a bit. I love the look of my cut cock after an erection. It's full, but it hangs well. It's something to be proud of, I think, at eight inches hard and about five & a half while hanging.

I leisurely strode back to the place I had dropped my things, taking in the scenery. I was at the "entrance" to the beach and there were a lot of overweight people here. "Fine for them," I thought, "but I like the exercise that hiking down the beach brings." I gathered my things and started on my way north up the beach. I kept walking slowly, making sure I didn't miss anything. The typical nude volleyball game was going on in one place. It looked like a nudist club gathering, so I slowed my pace and watched them as I walked up. Nude volleyball is quite a spectacle. As people jump, nothing is held in place. Tits and cocks flopping and spinning around in circles, slapping back and forth. How they can do that without feeling stimulated is beyond me. 

I started feeling the heat again and continued on. I thought I should put on some tanning oil. It's only SPF 4, but that means I can get sixteen hours of sun instead of four, before burning. In addition, it's enjoyable to put on.

There were random, small groups of people in the area, but the beach is so huge here that everyone is pretty well spaced out. I put down my things and got my oil out. I sprayed a liberal amount of oil all over my body, tossed the bottle down and began to massage it into myself. I started with my face and ears, and then moved to my arms, then my chest. Then I bent over and rubbed the oil into one leg starting at the ankle, moving up my legs, brushing by my balls, and then going to the other ankle. I worked my way up and began rubbing the oil into my cock and balls and ass. I was rock hard in a matter of seconds, but I only rubbed the oil in without any obvious extra stroking. I got as much of it on my back as I could and then stood back up. I looked around from behind my sunglasses to see if anyone had been watching.

I was sure that I was being watched by several people around the area but it was hard to tell with all their sunglasses. I started on up the beach, now fully oiled up and sporting my large cock out in front of me. As the beach was getting a little sparser with people, I gained confidence in my nudity. Walking around now with my hard cock wasn't such a big deal, but it did begin to lower a bit as I walked, which was good for now. For a while, I passed lots of people, but none so closely that I could see much activity.

I walked for about 15 minutes and started feeling like a swim was in order again. The beach was narrower here, but not by much. I found a spot by the cliffs to drop off my things. Someone else's things were about 20 feet away but there was nobody around that I could see. I ran to the water as fast as I could this time, all the while my cock was flopping violently as I ran. By the time I got to the water I was rock hard. I ran in and began to cool off. I love swimming with a hard on, as my cock sort of "wags" as I swim. It's like a rudder. I stayed in the water for a bit this time. When I finally got out I was a bit chilly and was looking forward to a little basking in the sun.

I got back to my spot and laid down on my front, soaking up some rays. I was only there for a few minutes when, walking down the beach towards me had to be the most handsome specimen of a male I'd ever seen. He was blond, with an even, golden tan all over his mostly hairless body. He was muscular, and well defined but not some kind of hulk. He was watching his large, semi-erect cock swaying back and forth as he walked. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I was getting very hard in the sand as I watched, as he kept coming towards me, almost in slow motion. When he got about 20 feet away he turned toward the cliff and walked to the stuff that I'd seen earlier. "Oh, that's his stuff" I thought.

He picked through his things then climbed up to a place I hadn't noticed earlier. It was a place on a corner cliff with a notch taken out, leaving a large flat deck like area. This guy proceeded to climb up there and sort of pose. He'd lean with one arm against the cliff and the other on his hip, shifting his weight from one side to the other, causing his butt cheeks to flex. It was like he was working over his cock from the way he was posing, without actually touching it. His member would jump up on its own occasionally and then bounce up and down a few times. He carried on like this for a long time.

When he climbed down from his perch he got into his things again. He took out a bottle and squirted some hot oil into his palm and climbed back up with one hand. He plopped it into his chest and began to spread it around. It dripped right down onto his cock as he rubbed his chest. He did his arms and then went to the main muscle. He slowly rubbed the oil in using circular motions around his cock. His other hand cupping his balls and squeezing.

I really didn't know what to do. Even though I was only a few feet away, he never seemed to look over at me. I got the impression that he was doing his own thing and didn't care if someone watched but didn't want to be bothered either. I finally sat up and turned over. My cock was throbbing so hard that it stood up off my abs. I didn't touch it, but just turned my head so I could continue to watch the show. Even though I was so close, he never looked like he looked over at me, but there was nobody else around. He kept getting oil and rubbing himself down with it. His cock was now pointing straight up and out. I'd guess that was a good eight inches around. He pushed it down and let it fling back up and slap his belly button. Then he did it again, encircling his cock with his fists. He stroked it slowly so that the head would slide out of his fists and then let it slap up again. Then he just stood there staring out to sea, naked and hard. Every muscle on his body seemed hard. I stood up and brushed off the sand. I looked out to sea to see if I could tell what was getting his interest. When I turned around to see him again, he was gone! I turned and looked all around. Weird! His stuff was gone too. Very weird! That guy had a body that burned an image into my minds eye that I still have not forgotten.

I got a bit creeped out by his sudden disappearance and decided to go further up the beach. But first I had a little smoke and drank some water to re-hydrate. I immediately started feeling the euphoric effects of the smoke. I started walking up the beach, still holding my breath from my last toke. My sand covered cock was full but not hard, just kind of sticking out on its own a bit. I walked back to the water to continue up the beach because the sand was getting hot now.

I passed a couple of dunes that looked like they had been built by bulldozers. And then a lifeguard tower with nobody around. "I didn't know there were any lifeguards on this beach" I thought to myself. As I passed by it, I realized that there was somebody on its deck tanning himself. I didn't see any red so I figured someone just commandeered the tower for tanning.

From here on, past the tower, almost all I saw were guys. A group of about ten really handsome guys passed right by me as I was walking. Each one was in various states of excitement from flaccid to totally erect, although that one's was very skinny. I stopped as they walked up and asked, "How much farther does this beach go?" 

They all stopped and one guy replied that it goes for several more miles. We made some more small talk and I noticed that I was being scoped out. One guy actually started stroking himself while we were talking. I was turning these guys on. My cock started to harden and I thought I better move on. I was here for scenery mostly. Walking around with an erection was about enough for me.

"Thanks for the info" I said. "See ya around" and I walked on. Not for long though as the next scene stopped me in my tracks. About 100 meters up the beach, I saw a group of a dozen or so people standing around what was unmistakably, somebody ramming their cock into the ass of another guy on all fours below him. I couldn't see closely but I knew what I saw. I imagined my jaw must have dropped as I stood there like a deer in headlights.

They were totally going at it in the middle of the beach. I had to get a closer look, so I started walking further up the beach, but not directly toward them. There were mostly men standing around but a couple of really hot ladies were watching from a blanket up from them towards the cliffs. At first I was a bit turned off by the public display, but that turned to excitement after watching the effect that they were having on all those around them. There was something odd about some of the guys watching them though. They stood motionless like zombies or something, just watching, totally expressionless.

I moved up to within twenty meters or so and put my stuff down. I lay down on my back to relax and enjoy all of the eroticism going on. Thinking that I would probably go unnoticed by those watching the main event, I oiled my body again and began to stroke my aching, throbbing member. I went very slowly, not wanting to blow the moment, so to speak. It was difficult not to get myself off, so I stopped. My cock was bobbing up and down on my chest as I watched. The guys had switched places and were now in a new position. The guy on the bottom was on his back with his feet up and his cock in his hand, with the other dude slowing inserting himself into his ass.

I'm not personally into that but I like watching cocks and other body parts of naked people, men and women. As long as their somewhat in shape and look good. Both of these guys were hot as were most of them standing around. I looked over and one of the girls I saw earlier was obviously watching me. My cock was still bobbing on its own, blood pumping into it with each heartbeat.

One of the watchers walked over and sat down right behind me about three feet. I said hey but got no response. Unlike everybody else, he had on Speedos, with a small bulge. He just rubbed himself and lay back in the sand. I decided to put on a little show of my own, so I lay completely back myself and began to pump my cock by contracting my buttocks. It would go rigid, hold, then plop down to my chest. I kept doing this for a bit watching my cock and the dudes still slowing going in and out of each other a few feet away.

I turned my head for a moment, to the guy whom sat behind me. He was rubbing his little hard on through his Speedos. Maybe it was the lack of size that kept him covered. I looked over at the girls and both were looking over at me know. One had her breast cupped and was massaging it while watching me. I would normally have moved over to the girls but watching these two put on a show in front of me still had my attention. The guys standing around were now all jacking their cocks and seemed to be slowly moving closer to the center "stage".

Those two dudes both started yelling, "Argghh!! Argghh!! Argghh!! And the one on top pulled out and finished himself off over his partner, shooting large streams five and six feet out. His cock was enormous. It must have been a foot long. I thought he was going to cum for days as the spurts seem to just keep shooting out. The guy on the bottom then came as well, holding his cock strait up, shooting his stuff strait up like a "geyser".

The others around them all started bringing themselves to the brink and spraying onto the beach in front of them. I'd never seen so many guys coming at once. I only wish I'd brought a camera.

The two both collapsed for a moment and their crowd started to disperse. They then walked down to the water to wash up. I guess I'd been preoccupied, watching them. The guy behind me was gone too. I looked over to the two girls. The closest one was walking toward me. She was being very seductive as she walked. She walked up and straddled me as I lay on the beach. I held the base of my cock straight up and she slowly dropped down to meet my awaiting cock head. When we touched, she paused. I slowly moved my cock head around her moist opening, sliding the sides of her folds around. My cock was super sensitive by now and kept jumping with each touch. Then, she eased herself down on me. She stayed there for a moment, and then started riding me very slowly up and down. She placed her hands on my chest for leverage. Her pace quickened. She rode me like a horse, throwing her head around in ecstasy.

I looked over to see her friend, but she seemed to have disappeared. I looked back down at my cock to watch it going in and out of this hot pussy. She was going so far up that the edges of my cock head would pop out of her pussy lips each time she would raise up. Then I saw her friend. I saw her by looking past my cock. She was walking up from the water. It was then that I also saw the feet of several others who had gathered to watch the show I was putting on.

I wasn't going to last much longer. We both started to scream. Aaahh! Ahhh! OOHH! AhhhHHGG! She lifted off just as I started to stream cum up into the air. It looked like a geyser going off. All the guys standing around started cuming soon after, standing while thrusting their hips like there was something there.

Everything felt so good, that I just lay there, watching the hard bodies, naked and spent, slowly disperse once again. I fell asleep covered in cum and sex juices with my cock lying over my left hip.

When I awoke a bit later, the sun was about to go down so I went for a swim to clean off and cool off. When I got back I realized that my clothes were gone from my stuff. Someone must have stolen them! With no other option, I hiked back down the beach to leave, which took about an hour. By the time I got close to where I had to exit the beach, my cock was rock hard again from being sore and slapping against my legs on the hike, and the sun was down but it wasn't dark yet. There were still naked people lying out in the evening, cooling off.

I felt like all eyes were on me and my hardon as I kept walking towards the exit path. I didn't have much choice but to just go to my car naked. I hiked up the large cliff very slowly, taking my time so my erection would subside a bit, at least. I passed several people on their way down. I was resting a one spot when two handsome guys and a very fine blond dropped down off a rock to go past me. They stopped when they saw me and started talking to me like I wasn't even nude. But they were all hot and all I could think about was the fact that they had clothes on and I was sitting here talking to them naked. My shlong was starting to come to life a bit again. It bobbed between my legs with each heartbeat and the girl took notice. Her eyes locked on it, which just made it grow even larger! 

That was when I said "Yeah, someone stole my clothes and being naked around others seems to really arouse me. I really can't help it. The more you look the bigger it will get."

"Can I touch it?" she asked.

"Hell yeah!" I replied, "Go ahead if you want." I looked at the two handsome dudes to see their reactions. They both had on dark blue board shorts and apparently no underwear or maybe boxers. Their cocks were pushing out with a large ridge showing the edge of their cock heads. They were both looking at their girl friend in slight unbelief.

She proceeded to gently caress my cock with her soft hands. I was once again erect and hurting so good from all the erections and action I'd had today. 

To Be Continued...



A Day at Home



The sky was gray and the air was cold as we were expecting snow we decided to stay in for the day and work around the house as I watch you painting the walls in the computer room my hormones begin to run wild as you look so sexy moving the way you are having no idea that I am even in there I come up behind you silently and grab your ass as you jump and say “hey what are you doing?” as I rub your ass gently I say I couldn’t help but watch you and I love what I am watching.

Girl don’t you have work to do in the other room? Well yes but I just stopped to take a coffee break and I thought I would see how you were doing as I begin to rub your back lightly as your body shivers from my touch Come on stop this I cant get this room finished if you start this now well alright I will go and finish my work and then I will start dinner.

 I couldn’t figure out why you were being so stubborn and playing hard to get today so I took matters in my own hands and I went into the bedroom and called you to come and help me As you enter the room I shut the door and lock it behind you What are you doing now? You ask I need you to help me with something as I walk over in front of you as I have you standing on the side of the bed as I stand there and you look down at me I take my hand and begin to rub your cock on the outside of your jeans and trying to push me away you say oh come on we have work to finish when we are done we can do this stuff well not wanting to listen I was determined I was going to change your mind I reach up and grab your neck pulling you down to me as I start kissing you rubbing your cock still kissing your neck lightly you realize that I am not going to give up as I feel your cock beginning to grow inside those jeans I begin working on the buttons on your shirt once I have it completely unbuttoned I slowly remove it off your shoulders and completely off of you as your hands begin to wander all over me finding their way to my ass where they rest peacefully as I kiss my way down your neck and onto your chest I kiss gently all the way down to your stomach as I undo your jeans and remove that hard mass and begin to massage it gently in my hand.

  Taking that cock into my mouth I tease the tip gently with my tongue as you moan in delight as you love the feel of my wet lips and tongue on your cock looking up at you I suck it gently as you stare down at me watching me suck you as you run your hands through my hair as your hips begin to move with the feel of my mouth getting up I push you back on the bed getting on the bed with you I start sucking that cock again harder this time as your head goes back and you beg me not to stop gently I begin nibbling on that mass all the way to your balls upon reaching them I take them into my mouth and suck them inside out gently.

  As my I reach up and run my fingers up and down your chest finally you get to the point that you grab me and pull me up to you as you start kissing me deeply as our breathing gets deeper now and we moan together in harmony as you roll me onto my back and remove the clothes that I am wearing teasing you I start to get up and say Oh honey we have to finish our work come on you have to finish painting that room and I have to finish getting dinner started as I wink at you “oh no you don’t You started this and now we are going to finish it as you lay me back down you begin nibbling on my ears and kissing my neck softly as your hand wanders in between my legs and to your amazement I am already wet.

Oh someone is just a little excited is she? As your fingers begin massaging my clit gently now as our passions begin to run and our desires take total control as your finger enters my hot wet hole as I take your cock into my hand and stroke it harder now Oh honey I want this and I am going to have it… as I make you get on your back again I climb on top of you as I take that mass in my hand guiding it into me… screaming in ecstasy as I slide down on it as your head goes back and your back arches as I begin grinding my hips into you slowly at first as your hands find their way onto my hips as you push deeper into me sitting straight up on you… grinding you harder as you scream stopping now… I get off and change positions getting on you again with my back to you grinding you again as your hands massage my breasts and you pinch my nipples gently rolling them between your fingers as you lay me back on you I can feel your cock and balls tighten as my pussy clamps down on your cock as we are reaching our hottest climax as we have the most dynamic orgasm ever as we cum together and you shoot hot streams of cum into me laying there I love the feel of the throbbing of your hard cock inside of me and when we are finished I say to you I love you… now get back to painting. 



A Day at Home



**** Warning: this story contains explicit bisexual and sexually submissive content between consenting adults. If it turns you off please do not continue, but if it does - do enjoy! ***



I have the apartment all to myself today although it's a normal Wednesday. My wonderful wife is at work, and after my morning shower I allow myself to walk around all naked. I woke up thinking about sex but my wife had already slipped away. The warm shower heated me up even more. My cock is half hard, and I feel good about my body and looks. I train about five times a week, running and weights mostly, and although mid-forties I am in very good shape. 

The autumn has come, and I stop and look out of the large French windows leading out to balcony. I see how the leaves swirl around in the light breeze outside. The leaves of the large trees in front of our house have almost all fallen off. I can now clearly see into the apartments in the house right opposite, where a man sits working at his computer. He is about my age, maybe just a little older, and we see each other from time to time when we jog around in the neighborhood. He is a handsome tall man, with dark hair and big hands. We have only spoken a few times, but he seems very friendly but he also has that special aura of authority of a natural leader. In the apartment above him, I see a pretty woman move around cleaning up, and vacuuming. She is wearing a light blue morning gown it looks like, and her blonde long hair is tied up into a knot on the top of head. It gives me a trill to know that they both would see me fully naked, if they just turned their head in my direction. I step back a bit into the apartment, as I feel my cock swell to a full erection.

I have been married for some 10 years now. My wife Caroline and I get along very well, but our sex life has become a little more of a routine by and by. We have no kids, but I have more and more come to miss something. Caroline is very beautiful and she has a fantastic body, with full round breasts, flowing brown hair and deep brown eyes. She works at a large medical company, and her intellect is sharp as a razor blade. She has got me all figured out I think. She is working very hard, and her career is doing swell, but that means little time for me, and sex. 

I walk into the kitchen to get me something to drink. There I find a note from Caroline reading:

"Have a great day at home Dear! I will probably be late tonight. If you are naughty you better do it right and be prepared to tell me EVERYTHING tonight! Love and XXX//Caroline"

She leaves me notes at times, sometimes signaling that she would like to have a romantic evening or to go out and party, and afterwards to make love, but she has never been this explicit!

As I wander back from the kitchen to our spacious living room, I am fully erect and I fantasize about Caroline, the beautiful blonde ... and the dark haired man all getting together. I wake up the PC in the living room, as I envision us all undressing. I sit down at the edge of our sofa, with the PC on our low living room table, and open up xhamster. I browse through the newly uploaded videos, but then click on the bisexual ones. My screen fills with visions of beautiful men and women having wild all out sex. My heart beats faster and I slowly stroke myself. I lean back on the sofa and enjoy the sound of the moaning, love making men and women filling the sun lit living room.

Suddenly the phone rings. I am startled and look out of the balcony windows as I stand up and whilst still holding my cock with one hand, answer the phone. To my dread and excitement I realize that both of my neighbors are watching me. The woman upstairs is standing in the window slowly unbuttoning her blouse and smiling. Below I see the dark haired man standing with his pants opened and his cock fully erect point straight at me.

"Hi you're speaking to T," I answer.

"Hi! This is J, your neighbor!" a deep manly voice greets me at the other end of the line.

I look over and see him holding his mobile against his ear. He smiles and waves at me.

I wave back and stammer with my voice full of lust.

"Hi!"

"Nice show man! You have a great body, and I like your cock like that! Are you up for a little game?"

Not knowing what to expect or answer, I blurt out;

"Thanks! Well, yes, it depends ..."

"Stroke yourself a little! I don't want you to get soft now ...."

I look at him. I hesitate for a second then feel the rush of excitement take hold of me. I gently move my hand along my cock. It immediately swells to its full glory again. Minutes pass, and I get increasingly excited by the whole situation. 

"Do you have some medium thick colorful rope at home?"

I try to think.

"Eh - yes I do!"

"Great. Bring it out. By the way, you look great from here ..."

I reach down into a drawer nearby and bring out a medium thick roll of rope that we had bought as a laundry line at some time. 

"Still up for a little game? I get so hard and hot watching you from here! Please tie one end around your cock and balls!"

I look at him. Here I am standing naked in my living room, in full view of my neighbors. A woman who now has also undressed and looks at me whilst caressing her full heavy breasts, whilst another man is asking me to do things for him as he masturbates. I am enormously turned on, and I realize I really want to do this now. 

I lay down the receiver and tie one end of the rope around my erect cock and full balls. I continue by pulling the other end up between my but cheeks and around my waist, pulling my cock down a little, and then back and around my cock again.

"Mmm, nice job man, Love that!" I hear J saying through the phone.

I pick up the receiver and as I very slowly play with myself, I ask J;

"Mmm. This feels good. I am glad to oblige you!"

"Fantastic! Does your wife have a dildo?"

"Yes, she does!" my voice is thick now, as I reaize what he want me to do.

"Please fetch it! I will wait!"

I put down the receiver and walk to our bedroom. Within short I have found the golden dildo among my wife's panties, and quickly walk back to the living room. I look over, but J is no longer there. The blonde woman however, has undone her hair and is sitting on the window sill with her hands between her parted legs. I smile up at her, and she smiles back. I slowly lick the dildo while we look at each other.

J reappears, now completely naked, and his magnificent hard cock at full mast. He is still holding his mobile against his one ear, and the other is carrying some kind of cloth in a greyish color. I pick up the receiver.

"I found it. What would you want me to do for you?"

"Very nice you man! Lick it and suck it please!"

I look back and forth at them as I turn from licking to sucking and back to licking the shiny dildo. 

"Mmmm - beautiful! Now slide it in between your legs. Let it tickle your hole!"

I spread my legs and bring the dildo down between my legs. At first I let the cool metal slide around my swollen cock and balls, and then take it back and in between my ass cheeks. I bring it up again to my mouth, lube it up with my saliva and then very gently push it up and into me.

I hear J grunt at the other end of the phone. With his voice filled with lust he orders me;

"Sit down on that dildo in front of the windows so I can see you, and start masturbating!"

I kneel down in full view of him, gently sitting down on my heels, feeling the dildo slide all the way in. I start pumping myself with my right hand, and hear myself panting.

"Not too fast man! Tell me does this turn you on?"

"Yes, it does!" I answer truthfully.

"Good, me too. I want to hear you talk dirty now ... do you think about big cocks at times?"

"Yes!"

"What would you do if you had the chance to feel a big erect cock now!"

"I would take it in my hand!"

"Would you kiss it?"

"Yes!" I answer, hesitating at first.

"Tell me - I want to hear you say it!"

"I would lick that big cock!"

"Do you like cocks T?"

"Yes, yes – I love big hard cocks!"

"... and what would you do now ...?"

"I'd take it into my mouth and suck it!"

"Would you stroke it at the same time?"

"Yes, I' masturbate for him too ..."

"... and when he would groan and be about to climax, what then?"

I masturbated very fast now. My heart jumping in my chest. The blonde woman seemed to have forgotten me, as she sat with her head against the wall, her back arched and her hands between her long slender legs.

"I would want him to come ... in my mouth ..."

"T please say that again; what would you do with my big cock and how would you want me to come?"

It was like electricity, my own climax quickly mounted within me as I knew what I was about to tell him milliseconds before I said it. My balls tightened up and as wave after wave of orgasms shot through my body, I told him;

"Ooooh, yes – I want to suck your cock!"

"Aaaah – I want you to come in my mouth!"

"Mmmm – I want to taste your seed ...."

After what seemed like hours, I slowly calmed down, and slowed the pace of my strokes. I was hot and still very hard. I had shot my own cum all over the wooden floor.

"Wow! That was hot. Your wife said you were a hot and horny man, but this was really something. I'm still hot and hard, so I think it's about time I came over then ... don't worry about getting up .. my wife gave me your spare keys ..." 

He hung up, and I watched him put on the trench coat, that he had been carrying, over his broad naked body. He turned and headed for the door. I put down the receiver and looked down at my cock. It was still at full mast. I couldn't wait apparently.

The phone rang again. Slowly I picked it up. As I answer with my name, I saw J walk swiftly across the street and into our house.

"Hi this is Monica, your neighbor across the street! Thank you for an incredibly hot show!"

"My pleasure Monica!" I answered her smiling up at her. 

She waves back. 

"If you stay on, you may get some more shows today!" 

"I say, your lovely wife said something about keeping an eye on you ...."

What had Caroline being telling them, I wondered, as I heard the front door open and someone comes up behind me. I turn and look smilingly up at J. He slowly unbuttoned his trench coat and stood with his erect cock right in front of my mouth. I lay the receiver down on the floor so Monica could hear us, and looked up at J.

"So T, tell me again – what do you want to do?"

I licked my lips and ...