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A Lark

By: Cal Y. Pygia



It started as a lark, as something to do to pass the time.

"I dare you!" Marilyn challenged me.

"I will if you will," I shot back, thinking that, surely, that would shut her up.

It hadn't. Marilyn was brassy. She always has been, and she said, "I will, right here, right now."

My eyes widened, and I gulped. "You won't," I answered lamely.

"Watch me!"

We were on Adams Street, at the Save-a-Lot Grocery. Steel grocery carts formed a sea, the front of each one rammed into the rear of the one ahead of it so that they formed long rows, teen deep. There was plenty of traffic, as usual, and shoppers went back and forth from their cars in the parking lot to the store and back, with provisions enough for a week or more. Most of the shoppers were women. Many had young children with them. Occasionally, a solitary man was seen among them.

Neither Marilyn nor I was wearing a bra or a pair of panties. We'd intentionally omitted underwear to facilitate our goal. I hadn't thought we'd really go through with it, though. I'd been all talk, and I'd figured that Marilyn had been just talking, too. There was no way, I'd thought, that she'd ever really expose herself, any more than I would.

She walked up to the side of a long file of the shopping carts, leaned far forward, so that her upper body lay across the tops of two of the interconnected carts, and, bent over in this manner, lifted her pink mini-skirt so that it was above her buttocks, showing not only the smooth globes of her firm derriere, but also the well-turned columns of her tapering thighs and calves.

She'd done it! She'd actually exposed herself in public!

She dropped her skirt, rose, turned to face me, and, grinning, announced, "Your turn, Peggy!"

What could I do? If I refused, I'd lose face. Marilyn had gone through with it. If I didn't do the same, I'd never live down the teasing she'd subject me to. We'd been best friends since kindergarten, and I didn't want to lose her friendship, but I didn't want to hear from her, every day, either, about how she'd lived up to our dare and I hadn't.

I'd do it, I decided. Just the way Marilyn had. She hadn't gotten caught. I wouldn't, either. I'd just be quick about it, and it would be over and done with, and I'd make sure I never put myself in such a position again, ever.

I stepped up to the shopping carts, intensely aware of the women--and the few men!--who paced back and forth, mere yards beyond the shopping carts that stood between me and the parking lot. Marilyn had gotten away with exposing her butt, but it would be just my luck to get caught. In my imagination, the police had already hauled my ass to jail, and my parents had been notified of their daughter's arrest for "indecent exposure."

"Hello!" Marilyn called. "We don't have all day."

My senses were on heightened alert, and everyone and everything seemed to move in slow motion. Sounds were incredibly distinct. I could hear birds singing in the small trees that grew in the far-flung islands in the midst of the parking lot's sea of asphalt, although, a moment ago, I hadn't been aware of them. I also heard the conversations of mothers and children and of the occasional couples who crossed to or from the store and their automobiles. I heard litter skitter across the pavement. I heard my own heart beating wildly.

"I knew you were chicken," Marilyn taunted me, the way she'd taunt me continuously and unmercifully every day from now on if I didn't follow through on her dare.

Quickly, I bent forward, over the shopping carts, the same way as Marilyn had done, hitched up my own mini-skirt, and showed my friend my ass. I felt the air, cool, on my bare skin while I counted to three. As quickly as I'd raised my skirt, I lowered it, breathing a deep sigh of relief as I stood up, turned, and looked the Save-a-Lot manager, Mike Myerson, in the eye. He was standing a few feet behind Marilyn, with an irate expression on his face. One eyebrow was cocked, his teeth were clenched, and he scowled, his brow furrowed. His feet were spread wide apart, and his arms were folded across his chest. My knees were wobbly, and I felt faint.

"You did it, girlfriend!" Marilyn cried. "I didn't think you would. I thought you'd pussy out on me, but you did it!"

"Yes," Mike said, "you both did it."

Startled, Marilyn spun around, looking as scared as I felt, which was plenty. "Mike!" she cried. "What are you doing spying on us, you pervert?"

I had to admire her. It was a brave, inspired effort, her trying to turn the tables on Mike that way. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

"I came out to get a shopping cart for one of my customers, Mrs. Douglas, as both she and my assistant manager know full well," he said, glaring at Marilyn. His eyes passed from her to me, and I knew how Perseus must have felt when he saw Medusa turn one of his men into stone. "I never imagined I'd see you girls exposing yourselves outside my store."

"You saw nothing of the kind," Marilyn challenged him. "Did he, Peg?"

Before I could back her lie, Mike nodded toward one of the cameras installed beneath the eaves of the Save-a-Lot's massive roof. "I did, and the camera did, too," he declared. He cocked his head toward the grocery. "Inside," he ordered. When we hesitated, he barked, "Now, unless you want me to call the cops!"

He led, and we followed, past the cash registers and well-stocked aisles, to his private office at the rear of the store, entered through a pair of swinging doors marked "Employees Only." On the way, I heard the words "shoplifters," "thieves," and "five-fingered discount." The employees had assumed that we'd been caught stealing from the store and were being taken to the manager's office.

I was scared shitless, and I knew Marilyn was, too, despite her bravado. By the time we'd reached Mike's office, I was crying.

He stood aside at the door and let us enter his office before him. Then, he closed the door behind him, locking it, and took a seat in the executive's chair behind his desk, leaving us standing before him. I stared at the rounded toes of my shoes, feeling sick and weak. My tears were warm on my face. They came thick and fast, spilling off my jaw and onto the carpet at my feet. Unable to look at him, I asked whether he was going to call our parents. Even though Marilyn and I were both eighteen, we still lived at home, having graduated from high school only a week ago, and neither my parents nor hers would be any too pleased to hear of the sluttish behavior of their teenage daughters.

"What do you girls think I should do?" he demanded.

It annoyed me that he referred to Marilyn and me as "girls" when he'd graduated high school only a couple years before we had, becoming the manager of his uncle's store as soon as he'd earned his associate's degree in business administration from the local community college. We'd known him as a student, although not well. He'd been a senior when we were sophomores, and he'd even asked Marilyn to go with him to the prom. She'd refused, thinking him a geek, and I wondered, with a sudden pang of fear, whether he remembered her rejection of him and whether, if he did, he was vindictive. If so, he had a perfect chance to get even with her, and I'd suffer the collateral damage of his ire.

In the bigger scheme of things, though, I told myself, worrying about his calling Marilyn and me "girls" wasn't all that important. In fact, it wasn't important at all, not compared to whether Mike would call our parents--or, for that matter, the police.

"Your parents may be the least of your worries," Mike said, his voice stern, like my Daddy's always got when I was in deep, hot water. I gulped, hazarding a glance at Marilyn. She'd lost a lot of her bravado. She looked scared, just like, I knew, I did. Mike would have no trouble detecting our dread. "You'll be lucky if I don't call the cops. What you did out there, in front of my store, in front of my customers--well, it's just unbelievable!" He paused, letting his words sink in before he added, "I doubt the police would be any happier to see the tape of your little exhibition than your parents would."

I heard Marilyn sniff, and I stole a glance at her. A tear coursed down her cheek, and the sight of her in this state, she who'd always seemed fearless and bold, was as unnerving as Mike's veiled threat to call the cops. "What are you going to do?" she asked the manager.

"You acted like children, so I intend to treat you as such. It's your choice, though. What's it going to be, a spanking or a couple of 'phone calls?"

My head jerked up as I stared at Mike in alarm. "A spanking?" I repeated, the words trembling upon my quivering lips.

The store manager's true nature showed as he leaned over, sideways, in his chair. It swiveled slightly. He reached down, between his desk and the wall, and laid a long, thick paddle on his desktop. Three rows of holes had been drilled through the paddle to cut down on the wind resistance as the heavy blade was swung through the air. Although he was a handsome guy in his own geeky way, Mike looked ugly enough with the malicious grin that had appeared on his cruel face.

I stole a glance at Marilyn. She looked terrified. She wept openly, tears continuing to stream down her lovely face. I felt the same way she looked, and I was crying, too.

"What's it going to be, girls?" Mike demanded. "The paddle or the police--and your parents?"

When I tried to answer his question, I found my throat too dry, and I was unable to get the words out. Swallowing, I managed to croak, "The paddle."

Mike turned his gaze from me to Marilyn. "What about you?"

She was looking down, at her feet, as I had been, and she didn't meet his gaze. The woman who, two years ago, as a high school student, had rejected the manager's request to be his prom date said, her voice shaky and her lips trembling, "The same."

Mike grinned again. "Very well, then, a spanking it shall be." He pointed the paddle at Marilyn. "You, bend across my desk."

My eyes widened as I shot Marilyn a cautionary glance. If she assumed such a position, her skirt would lift as she bent over, and her bare ass would show. Inwardly, I shrugged, though, thinking that Mike had already seen our naked butts; that's why we were in this predicament. Still, I didn't relish the thought of the bully seeing my uncovered derriere again, nor do I think Marilyn was too crazy about him seeing her bare butt.

Nevertheless, she complied with Mike's directive, bending over the front of his desk. Her skirt rose, like a curtain, as she leaned forward, offering full disclosure of her lovely, firm bottom. If I were a lesbian, I would certainly have been enthralled by the sight of her lovely buttocks.

Mike, having arisen from his throne-like executive's chair, rounded his desk, and positioned himself behind my friend. He looked down, for a long moment, at the full moon of Marilyn's sleek, round ass. I noticed that, at the crotch of his slacks, there was the telltale bulge of a burgeoning erection. The sleazy bastard was enjoying his dominance of Marilyn and me.

"Lift your skirt," he instructed Marilyn.

Why? I wondered. The son-of-a-bitch could already see all but the very tops of her buttocks.

"Throw it completely up, around your waist. I want your whole ass exposed, the way it was when you had the audacity to show it in public, in front of my store."

"Your uncle's store, you mean," I wanted to say. "Without him, you'd still be the nobody you were in school." Of course, I didn't say any such thing. Marilyn and I were in trouble enough without angering Mike any further than he already was.

Again, Marilyn did as she'd been told, flipping her skirt up, around her waist, so that Mike and I had a completely unobstructed view of her entire bottom.

He raised the paddle as high as his long arm allowed, but, as he was about to bring it down upon Marilyn's bottom, he noticed that I'd shut my eyes, and he paused. "You watch, Peggy. I want you to see every single swat, knowing, all the while, that you're next."

I shook my head. "No! I don't want to see."

"You'll look, or it will be the worse for your friend--and you."

I had no way of knowing whether his threat was real, for, whether I watched or not, he seemed intent upon giving us both an intense spanking, but I didn't want to risk making matters worse for my friend and me, so I opened my eyes. Tears spilled from them, watering my already-wet cheeks, and Mike smiled. "That's better, Peg."

He raised the paddle again, his fingers coiled tightly around its handle, and brought the heavy timber forward, in a flashing streak, as if he were Alex Rodriguez, intent upon hitting a grand slam. The thick wooden blade landed with a tremendous whack against Marilyn's bottom, flattening the round mounds of her creamy, smooth buttocks beneath its mighty impact, and Marilyn screamed as her hips were driven forward, into the edge of the desktop.

I hoped that her cry would be heard, summoning employees who'd put an end to our nightmarish predicament, but then fear lanced my heart, for, were we discovered, the police might be called, after all, and our parents would probably be notified or we'd have to call them ourselves, to get them to bail us out of jail.

Mike put my fears to rest, sort of, when he told Marilyn, "Go ahead, scream all you want. My office is soundproof; no one can hear you but Peggy and me."

The paddle had left a wide pink swath across both of Marilyn's buttocks, and she continued to moan and whimper. I shuddered, knowing my turn was coming soon enough, and I would feel the same mortification and pain that my friend was suffering at Mike's hands.

The manager lifted the paddle again, and I cringed as he struck, the paddle walloping my friend's bare, defenseless bottom again, leveling the full, firm cheeks under its fearsome impact. Marilyn gasped, and her hands rubbed her pink bottom.

"Take your hands away!" Mike ordered.

Reluctantly, perhaps fearing she'd prolong her punishment if she disobeyed the manager, she did as he'd instructed her to do, but she couldn't help but to whimper. Between her thighs, I noticed moisture. At first, despite the air conditioning that kept the office comfortably cool, I thought that it must be sweat. Then, I realized that it was my friend's pussy that was wet! On some level, despite the pain that Mike was inflicting upon her bottom, Marilyn was getting off on being paddled; as impossible as it seemed, she was enjoying it! I wondered, when my turn came to trade places with her, whether the paddle would have the same mixed effects upon me. I certainly hoped not. I couldn't imagine anything more mortifying than wetting myself like that in front of Mike.

A third time, the paddle rose and fell, a loud report filling the small office, and Marilyn gasped, moaning. Her bottom was beginning to deepen from pink to red, as if her nether cheeks were blushing. I saw Mike smile as he studied his handiwork, admiring the beauty of Marilyn's rosy buttocks for a long moment before he returned to work on them.

He administered two quick, but devastatingly powerful, swats, the paddle crushing Marilyn's buttocks beneath the collisions of its flat, broad, thick blade as it slammed into her bottom, and, as before, she cried out, shrieking, gasping, and moaning. "Please," she begged, "stop. I've had enough."

He brought the paddle down again, with even more savage force, and Marilyn, screeching, was driven hard against the front of the desk. Her nails scrambled against the surface, knocking over a container of pens and pencils. The writing implements scattered over the blotter. "I'll decide when you've had enough, young lady!" he told her.

Not only had Marilyn's bottom deepened to a cherry red, but bruises had begun to appear in her buttocks. She was sniveling and sniffing and weeping, her breath coming in quick, short gasps. She was a total wreck, I thought, this girl who'd been as fearless and strong as Wonder Woman for as long as I'd known her, a heroine, of sorts, to whom I'd looked up with admiration and respect. I'd loved Marilyn as a friend since preschool. She was, in fact, my dearest, best friend, even now, and my heart broke to see her spirit crushed. She'd been reduced, in a few minutes' time, to a shadow of her bold and sassy former self, and Mike was to blame. I hated the bastard's guts.

He raised the paddle again, and I interceded for my friend. "Stop!"

He looked at me, anger in his fierce, cruel eyes. "Shut up!"

"Please," I implored him. "Stop, Mike. Please."

He considered, the paddle high overhead. Smiling, as he lowered the instrument, he nodded at me. "Okay, Peg. Since you asked so nicely, I'll stop, for you."

I waited, expecting some condition.

He didn't disappoint me. "If you're willing to take the stroke for her."

Despite her pain and humiliation, Marilyn managed to blurt, "Don't so it, Peggy!"

Meeting his eyes with my own, I nodded. "All right, whatever, just don't hit her again, please."

To Marilyn, he said, his tone contemptuous, "Trade places with your true-blue friend."

It was painful to watch Marilyn grimace and wince as, moaning, she managed to rise. Her skirt fell back into place, hiding Mike's handiwork, and, except for her agonized expression, her wet, shining face, and her haunted eyes, it would be hard to know that she'd received anything more than a tongue lashing from the manager.

"It's your turn to be paddled," Mike told me. "Assume the same position as your friend assumed before you." He glared at Marilyn, who looked away from him. "You watch, if you know what's good for your friend here."

"Get your skirt up, around your waist," Mike ordered me.

Reluctantly, my hands trembling, I complied, feeling the cool air of the room upon the exposed flesh of my backside.

"Yours is even prettier than Marilyn's," Mike said, as if I cared to hear his "compliment." "I really wanted to ask you to the prom," he confided to me, "but you were so beautiful then, as now, that I knew I didn't have a chance with you, so I asked Marilyn instead."

"She's every bit as pretty as I am," I replied, "prettier, actually."

Mike snorted. "You may have told her that shit, good friend that you are, but everybody in school knew who was the better looking of the two of you, and that's you, Peggy."

"I wish."

"You more than wish; you know, and, deep down in her soul, so does Marilyn, don't you, bitch?"

From behind me, I heard my friend's answer, soft and pitiful. "Yes." I felt utterly sorry for my dear friend, for, the truth of the matter is that I am better looking than Marilyn, pretty though she is. For some reason, we'd always maintained the fiction that she was the more beautiful, although, as Mike had cruelly revealed, we both knew better, deep down.

"You bastard!" I cried, hoping to anger him so he'd turn on me and leave poor Marilyn alone. She'd suffered quite enough, I thought.

He chuckled. "I settled for second best."

Marilyn sobbed, his words as painful, maybe more so, than the whacks of the paddle he'd delivered to her bare behind.

He returned his attention to me. "And now, bitch, it's your turn."

The first blow was so intense that I thought I wouldn't be able to take another. The paddle smote my backside with tremendous force, a loud report seeming to reverberate off the close confines of the small office's four walls, and a searing pain claimed my bottom as if the impact of the blade had ignited a fire deep inside my buttocks. I gasped, cried out, and bounced upon my toes, the cheeks of my derriere flexing and relaxing repeatedly.

Behind me, I heard Mike's cruel laughter and Marilyn's sob.

Whack! The paddle slammed against my bottom, and I wailed. My poor butt screamed with pain, and I trembled, as the fiery warmth swept through my ass. Tears had gathered in my eyes after the first swat, and, now, they trickled down my face, my eyes smarting from the salt. I held my breath, counting, to distract myself, as best I could, from the agony that had taken up residence, as it were, within my bottom, and waited for the pain to become bearable, if ever it would.


A Lark in the Park



It had been a very long and frustrating day; the heat of the night had an uncontrollable strength over Olivia as she longingly walked home with her stilettos firmly grasped in her hand. Work had been extremely tedious that day and there was no more that she wanted; except, maybe a long hot bubble bath and a small slab of chocolate. On the way home she looked up desirably at the scarlet sky that was perched above her.

The wind dynamically stroked her neck and elated her confidence, this made Olivia feel strikingly sexy and a passing thought of pleasure occupied her thoughts. She knew she needed to fulfil these desiring actions of lust in her head, but she couldn't take the risk in letting these splendid idea's leave without being explored further; so she stopped off at her local park with head full of ambition. On the way there she met her neighbour Paul. 

Paul was a young and trim college student and had most likely have been just out with his friends, when he stopped in his tracks to talk to Olivia. The two of them were talking when Olivia glanced down towards his waistline and noticed that his football shirt was roughly tucked into his jeans and belt. She longingly scrolled her eyes up towards the V line of his pelvis and further up towards his stomach which was firmly toned. Her eyes continued to creep up towards his pectoral region; which glowed fantastically thanks to his holiday in Crete. His neck was chiselled and strong and reminded Olivia of an Adonis. Further up to his face and welcoming smile she placed her index finger on his bottom lip and slowly and smoothly dragged it down his neck and irresistibly hot, tense torso.

This was merely a schoolboy fantasy for both Olivia and Paul as she led him by the hand into a quiet secluded part of the park. Paul passionately stroked Olivia's golden brown hair as he reached in for the kiss. Their cherry lips touched and Paul could taste the vanilla cream lip gloss that Olivia had lovingly spread over before hand; he paused and licked his lips smiling sensuously back at Olivia as he reached in for second helpings. Olivia extended her tongue and intensely massaged his in return. The two tongues, embraced the moment and they both firmly grasped each other in a oppressed and passionate struggle. 

The sensuous kissing turned into faster paced race to show each other the form they were in. Her stiletto's plummeted to the ground as she lost control of all other grasps and emotions. Paul slipped off the mauve coloured waistcoat that Olivia was wearing and threw it fiercely to the ground. Then he gently lay her down on top of it, for a young athlete he came across as an extremely mature and dominating figure. She kissed his shoulders as he plucked away at the fabric buttons on her blouse revealing a laced, ebony coloured bra. She placed her hands across his waist then undid his belt; whipping it away erotically from his jeans.

He shrewdly pulled down the zip on her long black skirt and slid it down her legs, as if it was silk on marble; there was no force or fighting tension. The temptation of being with an experienced woman filled his head to the brim, with exciting new prospects and even street credibility. Under Olivia's skirt a little black thong was revealed. She felt Paul's heart race as he trembled with anticipation over her half naked body. She placed her hand on the press stud of his jeans and recognised his intentions were there. She slipped the material away from the jeans and pulled the fly down in a slow motion to tease him, she sniggered as his Tigger Boxers were revealed but insisted that she liked them as not embarrass him. She forcefully tugged away at the Jeans until they collapsed in a heap on the floor. 

Heaving with anticipation Paul was looking profoundly into Olivia's dark Hazel eyes; her mascara was running down her face as the heat of the night drew nearer to a climax, though what had begun, was far from over. With a plan in his head to take her breath away and astonish her with his vigorous masculinity. Paul unclipped Olivia's bra strap with ease and ran his masterful hands all over her body.

Olivia just lay there completely overpowered by her sexually frustrated nature, it had been a while, but; my Gosh it was worth it. The grass; like thousands of tantalizing fingers sumptuously tickled her back as the weight of Paul mounting on top of her pressed her firmly into the ground. The stars flickered off the reflection of Paul's eyes and were instantly transferred into Olivia's; like a cherub on a cloud, innocently but filled with initiative. Her supple white skin amazed Paul, never had he seen such honourable beauty; if only she knew how turned on he was at the precise moment, she may make the night last forever.

She scratched her territory into his back with her newly manicured nails; she moaned as his lips scurried across her neck and down to her stomach, then slowly and superbly downwards towards her hips and pelvis. Paul erotically enjoyed the pain as it was intimately and precisely followed by a generously proportioned dose of satisfaction. She knew he was engrossed by her persuasive charm as she felt his pride and ambition; it was generous, bountiful, and at it's peak. 

It was now or it would be too late she had to show that she was grateful so she slipped away her thong and winked at Paul in a seductive gesture. Tigger bounced away too, as his spring sprung into action and together the two of them united in act of passion slowly but with a incomparable force. Olivia bit her bottom lip in a visionary act of pure desire, never had she been so spontaneously driven. 

Paul was complete with self fulfilment as he swayed back and forth grasping onto both natural surroundings alike. His confidence extended far beyond his own intentions and this left him filled with self-importance. She was in his command, he polished his lips across her spherical wonders as the tops hardened with contentment, reaching higher standards than ever before.

Minutes of infatuation proved to be a night time of aspirations, as the truly unique moment in time was only what dreams can hope to achieve, when it had eventually concluded the two of them spent the rest of the night embraced in the bushes with only a small clearing to enable them to see the crimson sun rise. 

Then dressed, they similarly did that of Romeo and Juliet and Parted, sharing only a Palmers kiss to close the deal. With her stiletto's in her hand Olivia, wondered where her imagination may take her some other night. For now she smiled discreetly as she walked away remembering; her lark in the Park.



More short stories coming soon as Olivia: Dives in the Deep end



A Last Bequest



Mark Hammond was dying. Sad, of course. A little morbid, certainly, but an unfortunate fact nonetheless. 

It was not earth-shattering news. Mark had known for the last year and, slowly, had come to accept his fate. He had become philosophical; a thinker, sorting out what remained of his days and putting his affairs in order. He was no longer angry, no longer confused. He now acknowledged his destiny with a calm serenity that, previously, he had been unaware he possessed.

The long expensive foreign holidays had been taken, the flashy sports car that he had always wanted had been bought and then sold again as soon as he realised it didn’t really suit him and the mortgage had been paid off. Everything had been done, everything was complete and in order. There was only one problem left to sort out: Tania.

Tania Hammond felt that she was never going to be able to accept the situation in the same tranquil and composed manner that her husband seemed to do. When he had first broken the news she had negated everything. Doctors were often wrong, she claimed, he was too young, there must be something else they could do. But as Mark’s health began to fail, she realised that there was nothing anyone could do. The tears flowed and for several days she shut off completely.

His wife’s complete refusal to accept the inevitable had upset Mark greatly. Their eight-year marriage had been very close; they were able to talk about anything and everything, but now it seemed that the one thing that really needed to be talked about was not being discussed.

There were other things that also troubled Mark. Sex with Tania had always been fantastic to say the least. In bed (or anywhere else for that matter) Mark’s auburn-haired, sultry wife had been a wild woman and there was little that they hadn’t tried together. Oral and anal sex had been a regular feature of their sex life as had dressing up, role playing and even, on one occasion, the addition of another woman into the bedroom to make up a threesome. But Mark’s poor health had exhausted him. It was rare now that he was able to raise a strong enough erection to make love. He and Tania had not had sex in nearly a month and he knew how frustrated she must have felt. He was sure that this was adding to the problem of her lack of acceptance of the situation.

Mark thought long and hard about this dilemma. He had already accepted that once he was no longer around, his wife would certainly find another man and eventually a husband. Perhaps, if he recognized that fact as a given, he could help her select another man in advance, so to speak!

The idea of Tania with another man began to fuel Mark’s imagination. It seemed the perfect solution and would surely help with his wife’s short-term sexual frustration.

“Well, it seems like a good idea,” Tania said uncertainly, “but are you sure? It’s one thing to know that I’ll eventually re-marry, but quite another to be there in the same room while he fucks me!”

Mark hadn’t really thought about the practicalities of his plan. To be in the same room while another man took his wife; could he do it? He felt a surge of ineffectual excitement and knew that the answer was yes. It would be his last bequest!

That night in bed, the couple talked until the early hours of the morning. Both naked, Tania wriggled and writhed against her husbands’ body as they discussed her sexual attributes; the tight, flatness of her toned body, the smoothness of her perpetually shaved mound and the size and sensitivity of her heavy breasts. Mark could feel her moist against his thigh and groaned silently. There was little he could offer her but his fingers and used them expertly between the delicious folds of her pouting labia until she had shuddered into a satisfied climax.

Over the weeks the selection process became increasingly difficult. Several unsatisfactory introductions had been effected and so far, neither Mark nor Tania had met anyone that they would have considered even marginally suitable. Mark was becoming more and more frustrated and he knew that his wife was probably suffering even more.

And then, along came Carl. His initial letter came via a high-class dating agency and cited his occupation as a surveyor. He was unmarried, not too young and not too old and worked out regularly. After a week or so of corresponding it was clear that Carl perfectly understood the situation and so a date was set for a meeting at the Hammonds’ home.

Immediately Mark met Carl, he knew that they would get on. The newcomer was sympathetic to their situation without being condescending and was obviously not just after sex with Tania as many of his predecessors had proved to be. But Mark could see that there was a spark of sexual electricity between Carl and his wife. It seemed that they had found The One.

Tania was much impressed by Carl’s demeanour. He was not at all pushy and it was in fact she that had to take the lead in bringing the conversation around to sex. Ever since she had laid eyes on him she knew that she wanted him. She had never been unfaithful before – even in the previous months when Mark’s health had failed – but now it seemed, with her husband’s approval, she would finally get what she needed!

Tania had dressed simply. A plain yellow summer dress concealed a pair of high-cut lacy black panties and a matching bra. It was too warm for stockings (which she actually loved to wear), so she had decided to go barelegged and barefoot. Her flowing auburn hair was freshly washed and she could feel her whole body tingling with anticipation. She was ready!

The downstairs guest room had been made up earlier and Tania winked at her husband as she led Carl by the hand towards the large bed that dominated the centre of the room. She indicated that Mark should follow them.

Mark could feel the butterfly tingles in the pit of his stomach as he followed his sexily dressed wife and Carl into the bedroom. He wasn’t feeling at all as he had expected too; far from any emotional jealousy, his mood was one of excited anticipation.

Mark settled himself into a chair and took a deep breath. He sighed; even the exertion of walking from one room to the next had exhausted him. He watched as Tania sat on the edge of the bed. Her knees were together and her hands by her sides. She was looking directly at Carl as he stood in front of her.

“Why don’t you take your dress off, sweetheart?” Mark said. “I’m sure Carl would like a better look!”

Tania smiled sweetly first at her husband and then at her prospective lover. Her hands went behind her shoulders and pulled the thin tie that held the halter around her neck. She moved slowly but deftly, standing and then shimmying the light garment down over her legs and stepping out of it. Both men gasped as the beautiful woman stood before them in her underwear, proudly displaying her exquisite form.

The smile still set on her pretty face, Tania pulled Carl close to her. Her arms snaked around his neck and the couple kissed deeply. Mark watched them fervently as their tongues danced in and out of each other’s mouths. Carl’s hands were all over her body; squeezing a buttock through her panties and stroking the swell of a heavy breast through the bra.

The fondling kiss lasted a few more minutes before Tania, with a gasp of air, broke the embrace and stood back wordlessly. She stared straight into the eyes of her lover while her hands went behind her back and expertly unclasped the hook of the bra. The undergarment, now loose, fell away from her breasts and, with a flick of her wrist and a light giggle, she sent it spinning away to land on the other side of the room.

Mark could hardly blame Carl for leaping straight onto Tania. Now dressed only in her panties, her pendulous breasts swung tantalizingly in front of him and the young man lost no time in pulling off his own shirt and scooping the warm mounds of womanly flesh into his hands.

Whilst Carl fondled and sucked on Tania’s already hard nipples, her own hands were busy easing down the zipper on his jeans. In his letters, Carl had stated that he was quite large but, as Mark watched his wife pull the rod of inflamed flesh out from the denim pants, he couldn’t help a small exclamation of surprise. Carl was hard, thick and long. His cock swung almost menacingly above two heavy looking balls and as Tania wrapped her long cool fingers around his shaft Mark was sure that he could see a small bead of pre-cum liquid ooze from the tip.

Carl gasped out loud as he felt Tania grip his manhood and start to slowly manipulate it. His lips locked around one swollen nipple and sucked hard. He heard a moan of encouragement escape from between her lips and closed his eyes in appreciation. He felt her fingers play lightly under his scrotum and had to use all his powers of concentration just to stay in the game!

Tania could feel the swollen member in her fingers and sighed deeply. Her nipples felt hard and turgid, as she knew they would. She had always considered her large breasts to be one of her best features and loved it when they were kissed and groped. In fact there was only one thing she preferred more than having her tits sucked, and that was to have a stiff cock sliding between them. But that could wait for a while, she thought. Right now what she wanted was to taste the thick hard weapon that was currently throbbing in her hand.

As Tania disengaged herself and sat back on the bed, she squeezed her own breasts while watching Carl strip off the rest of his clothes. He kicked off his shoes haphazardly and stepped out of his jeans quickly. His penis arched upwards bending towards the indent of his navel, his balls swung confidently; full looking and proud.

Tania held her breath as he walked towards her. Her body felt hot with anticipation. She looked at his form; hairy, muscular chest that made her ache inside; long, thick legs and a handsome rugged face. But Tania’s eyes always seemed to drift back to his groin. She wanted that hot, hard cock inside her!

Carl approached the bed slowly, deliberately teasing. He had himself back under control now and knew that there was little chance of him embarrassing himself by cumming too soon. He kneeled on the bed. His cock head was only millimetres away form Tania’s open mouth and, as he leaned forward, he sighed deeply feeling the warm wetness engulf him. His fingers drifted up and down her body as he was so expertly fellated. Her tits and nipples felt so hot, her belly flat and smooth as silk and, as he reached lower to the crotch of her panties he was pleased to feel the moistness that he had hoped would be present.

Mark continued to watch with awed fascination as his wife swallowed the swollen protrusion of manly flesh. He could see Carl’s fingers pulling at the side of her lace panties as he moved them out of the way to expose her shaved pussy. She looked so wet and when Carl slid two digits between the folds of her sex lips they disappeared up into her body with a graceful ease.

Carl moaned deeply and thrust another inch of his tool into Tania’s tight throat. He could feel the glorious friction that her muscles caused as he slid in and out with a steady rhythm. His fingers were becoming more wet by the moment as he gently probed her vagina and stroked her clit. He knew that very soon he wanted his cock buried deep inside her.

“God, you’re big!” Gasped Tania as she allowed the thick weapon out of her throat. “I hope you’re going to cum hard when the time is right!”

“Not just yet though, baby. I wanna fuck you first!”

“Ohhh yes! That sounds just what I need. A big hard cock rammed up my cunt!”

Mark felt his breath catch in his throat. He had never heard Tania use such coarse language before. She was clearly as excited as she had ever been and from the look of her, the use of such expletives only served to increase her passion to greater heights.

Carl smiled and lay back on the bed, his solid penis jutting out from his body like a flagpole as he watched Tania step out of her damp underwear. 

“Hop on board, baby!” He laughed, slapping his thighs and indicating that Tania should straddle him.

Mark continued to watch his wife’s every move. She certainly needed no second invitation and swinging one long, slender leg over Carl’s midsection, she grasped his thick cock and guided it straight into her pussy.

Mark heard both Carl and Tania gasp in unison as they coupled excitedly. Tania was kneeling over her lover and facing her husband as, with her hands once again cupping her breasts, she began to ride him like a stallion. Her body moved in a wonderful symphony of lust; rising and falling on the fierce erection in a steady rhythm that soon started to become faster. Mark could hear her breathing fast and ragged as she climbed higher and higher towards her orgasm. The toes on her bare feet started to curl. Her head lolled back and her sweat-dampened hair tossed about her shoulders. Her voice – now almost a squeal – rose in pitch until her whole body trembled and she fell forwards twitching and writhing in the throes of climax.

Carl’s breathing was calm and regular as he fought the urge to shoot his cum deep into Tania’s body. He wanted to wait until she had come down from her orgasm. He had an idea of where he wanted to put his cock next.

“How about me sticking my cock between those big, juicy tits of yours, baby?” He asked with a smile.

“Ohhh! You read my mind. I love feeling a hard cock fucking between my tits! Nearly as good as having it rammed up my tight, wet cunt!”

Mark sat back and watched as his wife stretched out on the bed. Her legs were splayed and he could clearly see her wet, open vagina as she continued to leak sex fluid out from the dilated hole. He knew that both of them were going to enjoy this and hoped that Carl would cum whilst he was fucking her cleavage. Mark longed to see the younger man spurt his seed over Tania’s tits and face.

As if reading Marks mind, Carl straddled his lovers’ chest and placed his throbbing tool between her heaving breasts. He groaned in lust as Tania pushed the two fleshy globes together and trapped his meat in the warm, dark valley.

Slowly, Carl began to rock his hips back and forth. Tania’s lightly oiled skin mixed with a sheen of her perspiration was enough to lubricate his progress and he could feel the exquisite sensations as his balls dragged across her flesh.

As Mark looked on he could see that the movement of Carl’s hips was becoming a little faster, more urgent. The younger mans hand was behind him as he thrust himself between Tania’s breasts and his fingers played lightly over her protruding clitoris. It was clear that both of them would cum very soon at this rate and Mark could even feel a small tingle in his own underwear as he watched, voyeur-like, as the scene unfolded before him.

Carl’s hips were pumping almost viciously now, driving his tool deep into the luxuriant valley of Tania’s cleavage. Her hands were clasped to her breasts pushing them up and her hips bounced up and down frantically as her lover rammed his fingers into her vagina.

“Oh my God!” She cried. “I’m cumming again!”

Carl’s eyes were tight shut as he thrust. His head was back exposing the thick veins in his neck as he gritted his teeth.

“Oh, yeah baby! Cum for me…I’m nearly there…just a little more..and…yes…yessssss”

In a frenzy of activity, Carl wrenched his penis from between Tania’s breasts and pumped his foreskin fast and furiously. He groaned loudly as suddenly a long stream of sperm exploded from the tip of his cock and splashed obscenely over Tania’s grinning face. The initial burst was followed by several shorter less powerful spurts that oozed into her mouth and dripped down to coat her breasts and swollen, abused nipples.

A week later, Mark returned from his regular visit to the hospital. Tania greeted him at the door expecting to see his usual, resigned expression as he crossed the threshold. But this time Mark’s demeanour was very different. Gone was the sour look. His usually lowered head was held high and a bright smile illuminated his face. 

“What?” Tania asked as she kissed him hello.

Mark just stared back. He was having a hard time forming words.

“What is it?” Tania repeated. “You’re starting to worry me.”

“No more worry now.” Mark stated finally finding his voice. “You were right, in a way. It’s not that the doctors were wrong, but….they found what they think is a cure for me!”

He shook a large box of pills in front of her.

“I know it’s a bit presumptuous but I thought we could celebrate. A short holiday? I thought maybe The Islands?”

Tania was overcome. She threw her arms around her husbands neck and showered him with kisses. When they had both finally got their breath back she looked him straight in the eye.

“The Islands are a wonderful idea, darling!” She enthused. “And, if I’m not mistaken, isn’t that where Carl lives?”

“Hmmm! You know I think he does live there. Maybe we should pay him a visit!”

“These new pills of yours.” Tania continued with a coy smile. “I don’t suppose they’ll do anything for……”

Mark followed his wife’s eyes down to where she was looking at his crotch. He laughed.

“Doc says that I should be able to get a hard-on after just three doses!”

“How many have you taken?”

“Six.”

Tania squealed and pulled Mark by the hand towards the downstairs bedroom, shedding her clothes as she went.

“Perhaps we could see Carl another time!” she giggled excitedly.

The End