4 comments/ 9040 views/ 0 favorites Chet & Kim By: intrysted Chet had responded on a whim. It was in the "platonic" section of Craig's List, apparently innocent enough but with the slightest suggestion of something more: "LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION...Can anyone help a young woman who needs studio photos to apply for acting positions? Can't afford proof shoot now but would be most grateful" He'd answered, accurately, that he was a photo hobbyist with professional equipment and a home studio and was, himself, seeking to expand his portfolio for use to solicit more freelance assignments. Now, not a week later, in walked Kim. She was quite attractive in the kind of comfortably familiar girl-next-door, understated-woman-behind-the-eyeglasses-at-the-library way that seems increasingly popular these days. No glasses, but a modest skirt and sweater and refreshingly little apparent makeup. At first, after the pleasantries and a glass of wine, he posed her this way and that, only the flash of her bare and shapely legs providing a hint of more to come. "Exactly what kind of acting roles are we shooting for?" he asked after a while. "Well, Chet, I'm actually glad you asked that," she said in a tone of voice that conveyed a bit of nervousness or at least ambivalence. "The picture I'm interested in right now involves a kidnapping scene. Three men snatch a secretary right off the street as she reaches the parking garage after work and try to get her to give them the combination to her boss's safe. They take her to some hideaway and tie her up and try to scare her out of her wits. It's kind of a suspense mystery with a sadistic twist." "Well, then, this might come in handy," he said, reaching for a length of clothesline and some tie-downs he kept at hand to secure his equipment for road shoots. "Why don't we give them a look at how you'd be in the movie?" "Wow," she said. "I don't know. I would want them to get the wrong idea about me -- although now that you mention it, it might help get me in the door." Chet tried to appear and act as clinical as possible as Kim pulled off the sweater and stepped out of her skirt. She was wearing fairly modest underwear -- perfect for the part of the secretary in distress. "Come over here and climb on the table," he suggested matter-of-factly. He looped the rope around her wrists and ankles and knotted it at the table legs. In an instant, there she was, spread-eagled, like the victim on the cover of a trashy pulp fiction novel. "I have no blindfold, but we do want to see some terror in your eyes so that's all right, too," he said, as she nodded. It was time to see whether he could go a little farther. "I'm looking for a little wantonness, too, Kim," he said casually. "Have you ever been tied down like this before"? "Well I had a boyfriend who did it as a joke once," she said, forcing a smile, "but I wasn't really tied the way you have me. This is much more realistic." "Realism is what we're after," he said. "And I'm guessing the way most low-budget movies are shot these days that we'll have to show them what you're made of, Kim. Do you think we can get these nipples to stand out a little?" `Once her sweater was off, he had been momentarily distracted by her breasts. Larger than he'd expected and very well formed. Now, almost innocently he reached behind her and undid the bra. It happened so quickly she had no time to react and he continued his façade of detached professionalism, adding before she could speak, "I find that some women get more excited by the hint of touch than touch itself," teasing her with his fingers surrounding but not touching one of her nipples. "Please try to affect an air of arousal. It will really help the shot. Can you?" She could only nod. God, he was good at this, he thought, denying himself the self-satisfied smile that might blow his cover. "Maybe this will help thing along, Kim, eh?" he said, dropping the other hand to the mound beneath her panties. "Here, too, penetration is not the issue so much as the slightest pressure, stimulating you and giving you a mere hint of more to come." With her legs spread wide he could see that her pubis was unshaved. He liked them that way -- au natural -- and son of a gun if she was not responding. "Good girl!" he said, still casual but now encouraging and seemingly affirming the appropriateness of the entirely outrageous scene, "Now you're getting it! Well, maybe just a little tweak to help things along," he said, " rolling first one and then the other of her titties between the thumb and index finger of his right hand as his left continued its work down below, If she could see anything but the ceiling from flat on her back on his table, at that point Kim might have noticed that Chet's camera was nowhere in sight. * * * Kim had been spread-eagled, lashed to the table nearly an hour, arms and legs secured at the wrists and ankles, naked except for the little-girl panties that seemed almost a non sequitar given the wanton picture she presented as he worked over her body, using his hands and occasionally his lips now, finding sensitive places to touch and rub, caress and stroke, often barely allowing her to feel the tips of his fingers behind her knees, inside her thighs, at the band of the panties under her navel, under her neck, fingers exploring her mouth, and, of course, all over her breasts. Every time he would give her just enough to elicit the desired reaction -- quickened breath, stirring against the rope, moans and then as he pulled back the word "please," first almost an imperceptible part of a moan, then more pronounced, and finally nearly desperate. "Your doing fine, Kim!" he assured her, trying to hide the irony as he added, "I had no idea how accomplished an actress you really are! I want to get a few shots now and then we'll try to work you up a little more to give the producers a sense of progression -- innocent young woman to anxious victim reacting despite yourself to your captor's advances to desperate submissive who would do anything to feel his stimulation and serve his needs." The photos, he thought to himself, would come in handy should she feel regrets later and not want to return for further sessions or, worse, complain to someone about her experience. He doubted either would happen. Based on what he sensed, her ad placement in the platonic section of Craig's List had been designed to elicit only respectable responses and eliminate the perverts, but it was clear that she wanted more. He was careful to capture her face in each shot and now, to punctuate the series, he mounted the table, unsheathed his penis, and teased each of her nipples with its head. "Want a taste?" he asked, and almost reflexively her mouth opened. There was such temptation for him to go full bore -- after all he had been denying himself as well as her this last hour -- but playing this scene for all it was worth required self-discipline. And, after all, unlike Kim, Chet was delaying sexual satisfaction (and surely heightening it) by choice. So, again, he allowed her just enough of him to want much more and then receded, tempting, teasing, tantalizing, even torturing might not be too strong a word given the look in her eyes. "Are your arms and legs cramping at all?" he asked, and could see a look of revelation momentarily replace desire. In her frenzied state she had withstood considerable discomfort, even pain, to keep her eyes on the elusive prize -- satisfaction leading to eruption after eruption when -- if -- he finally allowed her to reach fulfillment. "It might help to change positions," Chet said matter-of-factly, starting to untie the cords from the table legs but keeping them secured around her wrists and ankles. Even free of restraint she was motionless, allowing him to reposition her, tracing her breasts and whispering in her ear to retain her motivation. There was no denying it. She seemed nearly in a trance. He hardly ever used his attic for storage, but now the trap door that led there presented a new anchor for the ropes on her wrists. Chet opened a step stool he normally used to reach the top shelves of his cabinets and lifted her, half standing, half leaning against him, so he could loop the other ends of the rope around the folding steps and then allow the door to spring back into the ceiling. Perfect, he thought. When he pulled the stool out from under her, her toes barely reached the floor. She looked like one of those women imprisoned by a band of pirates in the hold of a ship, arms overhead, helpless, exposed, almost panic-stricken, `I guess these don't matter much any more," he said, slowly pulled down the panties. Now he was all over her body again, but this time he positioned himself behind her so she could not see him, and his voice became as much a stimulant as his hands and lips and penis. "You're so wet, Kim," he whispered. "and your nipples and clitoris are so excitable to the touch. Should I stop for a bit so you can regain your composure?" "Nooooo," she begged -- and that was not too strong a word, "Please. Pleeeeze." "Please what, Kim?" he asked, "Please touch me, please fuck me!" she just about shrieked. "Kim, I'm not sure that would be very ethical under the circumstances. But I really am happy that this is working out so well. Let's get some more pictures and see what else we can do to motivate you. We do have all night." * * * He decided to return to the breasts. As wet as her vagina was, he felt Kim was most excitable, and thus most vulnerable, there. For one thing, her breasts were somewhat proportionately oversized and for another, as obviously turned on as she was by just about everything he did to her, she seemed especially excited whenever he would tease and then manipulate her nipples. They were fairly large and centered with tips that extended at least an extra half-inch after he went to work on them. It was not normally part of his game, but now Chet decided to experiment with a hint of roughness. Though she had been tied first to the table and now arms akimbo and toes barely touching the floor, he had been very gentle, That was the height of his own pleasure -- teasing her, making her urge him and then plead and, eventually, just about beg. Would it catch her off guard if he changed course and manhandled those titties a bit? Would it terrify her and destroy the mood? His goal now -- if he had one short of doing this in position after position for hours on end until she was half mad -- was to turn her into a sort of love slave, someone who thought of little else but returning after this session was over and they had parted. Failing that, he knew had the photos to lure her back, the whole scene really worked well with respectable young women, he thought to himself. The release she'd signed at the outset gave him ownership of the photos -- that had been the "price" of taking them for free -- so it was hardly extortion for him to put her obviously identifiable face up on a web site, begging to suck his own utterly anonymous member. He started with his fingers; squeezing the nipples and hearing her breath shorten, almost as if she was panting. But as he applied more pressure, first to one and then the other and finally both simultaneously, her response caught him off guard. "Yes," she whispered, "yes,yes,yes,yes..." Desperate to feel him inside her, or at least to move from the slow, tortuous, sexual teasing that after a time bordered on humiliation, Kim was gratified by the force of his fingers on her nipples. Scientists know that unexpected results in a lab experiment can be the most important of all, so Chet maintained his equilibrium and decided to determine how far he could push this new development his advantage. He reached for another piece of rope (which was actually a smooth laundry line cord) and tied it around her so as to encircle and cordon her breasts. He'd seen this in porn photos, but never in person. She was swaying a bit, biting her lip -- it had to hurt at least a little, he thought -- but clearly more aroused than discomfited. There was one more thing he wanted to try. He went to his supply drawer and found a couple of rubber-coated spring clips of the sort used to keep plastic packages secured. First he started toying with the nipples again -- they really stood out in an exaggerated way with her breasts tied as they were. It worked. Despite the ropes she was immediately clamoring for more attention than the gentle flicks of his fingertips and then his tongue. "Delicious," he said to her, licking the distended nipples like little lollipops. "Would you like to feel something harder, Kim?" "Oh, yes," she said, "Please. Yes. Harder. Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making me wait so long? Harder!" Swiftly, he attached each clip to a nipple, careful to loosen the springs so the pressure would be relatively mild, and watched as that listed slightly downward. To compensate for any pain she might feel -- and he was not sure at all now that she could distinguish pain from arousal -- he reached down and began attending to her down below, running his fingers along her swollen labia and now, for the first time along the crack of her bottom. Chet had never been particularly turned on by the thought of anal penetration -- he'd once ended a relationship because a woman he dated wanted that and it was not in his repertoire, but he knew ho excited he was during sex when a partner merely traced a moist finger and hen licked at the edge of his ass. Sure enough, as Kim fairly dangled from the ceiling, her breasts receiving constant stimulation via artificial means, as he worked from the top of her vagina down and over her anus and back again, ever so gently back in his tantalizing mode, she began to moan and sob again and beg for more. "All in good time, my sweet," he said. "We want this to last, don't we?" She said nothing, presumably resigned to her fate, and after a good -- a very good -- 10 minutes or so, he stopped and freed her breasts from the ropes and clips after taking the requisite photos. "I'm going to untie you now, Kim," he said, "and give you a reward for your patience." * * * It was fortunate, Kim thought, as she dangled there from the ceiling, that she was in such good shape. On one level this little escapade was proving to be a pretty fair workout in more ways than one. She smiled to herself at what the women at the gym, let along her office colleagues, would think if they saw her now. She had no idea how long she had been here. She'd lost track of time, among other things, but she did know it was Friday or maybe early Saturday by now, so there was no need to worry. Kim thought too, that this ultra-confident, faux cool photographer (or whatever he really was) might be surprised to learn that there really was a movie and, whatever plans he might have for the photos he was clicking off, she would come away with at least a couple of new poses for her electronic portfolio. A few months before she had auditioned as an extra for a Hollywood film starring Bruce Willis -- the real deal, though she never even saw Willis or any other big-name actor in her two days of shooting. She had connected with a number of aspiring actors and actresses serving as extras for some rent money and that led to a call from one about this possible small role in a very low-budget film to be shot in a few weeks. Cast call was Monday. Why not, she thought. And, of course, when Chet came on to her (as she suspected he might), she thought precisely the same thing. She secretly (maybe not so secretly?) craved such attention -- not to mention the sexual release it portended -- and it had been a while. And there was no doubt that this role -- submitting to an attractive man, loosing control, pleasing him -- was her own ticket to sexual fulfillment. Kim did not know if she had been born with these desires or conditioned to respond almost instinctively to such treatment. Certainly, there was no lack of evidence that some of her earliest sexual experiences were, as they say, formative. The breasts had developed early, so soon that they had actually hindered her normal social life in junior high school and high school. They were the elephant(s?) in the room. Boys might masturbate three times s day to photos of girls like her but were obviously uneasy if not intimidated by the real thing(s). So when Mr. Reston, her ninth grade math teacher who doubled as the drama coach, became her first lover the stage was set, so to speak, for a lifetime of relationships with ruthless men who were in positions to use her to their own advantage. She could still recall every detail about that other Friday, the first time with Chris Reston, and, looking back, still wondered who had seduced whom. One on one work with the director in the days leading up to a school play was not unusual, but she must have had a hunch because instead of jeans and an oversized, unisex shirt — the uniform du jour pretty much every day in junior high — Kim had worn a skirt and a button-up blouse that was, yes, maybe a half-size too small. Nobody else was even in the corridor by 4:30 or so, let alone the utility room that served as a rehearsal studio. Almost on cue, he walked behind her as she worked on her lines and reached for her arm, saying, "Kim, when you deliver that line try to throw yourself into it, don't just look at Bobby but reach out for him like this..." She could feel his corduroy sport coat on her shoulder and arm and when she turned to her left looked up at him she caught his eyes on her breasts. "Do you think we could rehearse the kissing scene now?" she asked. It was a pretty clever come-on for a girl just-turned 15. There was no kissing scene. But Chris Reston took the cue and then some. She had not been kissed like that before or since and in almost no time his hands were in her hair, around her waist, and on her breasts. "God, Kim, look what you are doing to me," he said, and for an instant they both looked down at the bulge in his slacks. She still marveled at how naturally she unzipped him and felt for his manhood. Who needed gawky, self-conscious 16-year-olds? They had somehow gravitated to an old couch in the corner of the room and he was soon reciprocating, under her skirt, gently exciting her in ways that were not unlike the teasing, toying work over she had gotten from Chet this very evening. Maybe that's why she was flashing back now to the first time with Mr. Reston. The memory of that afternoon nearly 10 years before could still be enough to arouse her on lonely nights. But no vibrator in the world could match Mr. Reston's erect penis or, for that matter, Chet's. For a few moments, as she thought about all this, Kim had almost forgotten her present circumstance, but now Chet was holding her with one arm and untying her wrists with the other and half leading, half-carrying her to another room, a bedroom, But if there was a bed in her future it would come later. "Ready for your reward?" he asked her -- really ordered would be a better word -- and positioned her on her knees in front of him as he sat on the side of the bed. "You've earned this, Kim, enjoy it." Smug bastard, she thought, but the truth was, she did. For the next 10 or 15 minutes, her newly liberated hands, her lips and tongue and even her teeth set about to do what she had learned to do very well starting with that afternoon in junior high— make a man feel as good as he could for as long as he could and absolutely revel in that ability. As she brought Chet to the edge of ecstasy and kept him there, he reached down and cupped her dangling breasts, in effect directing her pace by signaling her when to go harder or softer or just maintain. "I love it, I love it, I love it," she murmured, knowing it would be what he wanted to hear but tell the truth all the same. Chet & Kim Ch. 02 Chet was where he was nearly every Wednesday, enjoying draft ale during happy hour awaiting his nearly lifelong friend Mark. The pair had taken disparate paths from their high school and college days but their ritualistic Wednesdays at the Tufted Duck persevered and had become an important part of the week for both men even beyond its basic intent of allowing each to enjoy the other's company. "Beat you this week!" he called from the bar as Mark walked in. More often his friend arrived first because Mark's office was just two blocks away. "Yeah," Mark explained. "Sorry I took so long. I was on the phone with Carol. The baby's not feeling well. Nothing serious, but she needed some handholding." "Holding hands again?" Chet asked with a laugh. "Things are looking up!" "Very funny!" Mark said before ordering his usual IPA. But Chet already sensed that this week would be different. "Take a look at these," he said, handing Mark the photos. "So?" Mark asked. "Looks like typical Internet stuff. "Yes," Chet responded, "except this is not Internet stuff. This is my stuff. Want to see for yourself? I didn't want to ruin our Wednesday night out, but I'm due at her place in about a half hour." Mark got one of those do-I-dare-believe-you? looks in his eyes, but by the time their glasses were drained and they were in Chet's car on the way to Kim's apartment, as Paul Harvey used to say, he knew the rest of the story. "Perfect," Chet thought. Mark was nice looking and about as sex-hungry as any married man who hadn't been touched by his wife in over a year. And Kim had to be ready for the second act of the scenario he was projecting. The man at the concierge desk announced only him, which was just as well, Chet thought, since he had not alerted Kim that he was bringing a friend along, but she seemed unfazed when she opened the door to her 17th floor apartment and the two of them entered. He quickly explained that he'd shared Kim's glossies with Mark, whose firm dealt with a number of production agencies in the city's fast-developing film industry, and that Mark was so impressed when he learned Chet planned to drop a set off at her place mark asked if he could tag along to meet Kim in person Kim turned on her stereo and then produced a corkscrew and three wine glasses for the local red Chet had brought to toast Kim's budding career prospects. Within minutes they were sitting in her living room, chatting, Chet and Kim on the sofa and Mark across from them on an armchair. She was in her work outfit -- different skirt and sweater this time, but similar in style -- and seemed very at ease even when Chet absently put his arm around her should. "Wonderful view," Chet said and when Kim got up to point out the mountains by name he followed behind her and said, "I meant you, silly, not the scenery" reaching to turn her toward him in an embrace that led to a gentle kiss that Kim broke off apparently remembering there was someone else was in the room. Chet never missed a beat, continuing his grasp of Kim and calling over to Mark, "Was I wrong about Kim? Isn't she beautiful? Your people will love her, won't they?" "Well," Mark said, picking up on the thread just as they had discussed in the car, "I know you aid you had some photos you could show me, but I like to see for myself if that's okay." "OK by me," Chet said, then turning to Kim, "can we show Mark a little something? He'll be very discreet. I promise." He really did not wait for an answer, ushering her back to the sofa as he nuzzled her ear. His right arm was still around her and he gently pulled back the skirt, revealing those shapely legs and, this time, not the cotton panties but a lacy pair that might have come right from the Victoria's Secret catalogue. It was clear she had been prepared for an encounter with at least one gentleman caller. "You're embarrassing me, Chet," she said at last, not sounding all that convincing. They were her first words since their kiss. "You should be proud, not embarrassed, Kim," he answered in a reassuring if slightly condescending tone. Then turning toward Mark, he asked, "Do you think those people you told me about at Galaxy International could use n actress like Kim? To paraphrase an old cliché, she undresses up very well, doesn't she? Show him, sweetie. This is no time for modesty." Kim seemed a tad confused. Through all of their conversations Chet had never abandoned the pretense that he could advance her film career even though he was obviously interested in a personal relationship as well. That's why she figured she had nothing to lose by inviting him to drop her set of print by. But where did Mark fit in? For all her sexual adventures she had never felt this exposed to two men at once before. "I've seen the women they have signed over at Global. Mark" Chet continued. "None of them are close to this." He pulled Kim's sweater up, though not over her head. "Hey, baby, help a little, OK? Unhook your bra? I promise, Mark knows what a girl looks like. I just think he need to see how good you look." The tone left little room for anything but cooperation if not submission and she complied. In an armchair just a few feet away, Mark was little short of stunned. He knew his lifelong friend lived the good bachelor life but this seemed unbelievable. Kim was in a virtually hypnotic state sitting there with her skirt at her waist, her sweater at her neck and now those two voluptuous breasts utterly unencumbered. And Chet was beyond cool, sitting at her side, almost clinically assessing her virtues and all the while stroking her here and there with a reassuring hand. "Don't be shy, sweetie," he told her. "Mark who do they have over there with better than this," and, by god, one of his hands was cupping her right breast and the other was playing with her nipple, which sprung to attention as he worked her over. "Good girl" he whispered and then, to Mark, "would you like to see her move a little? Kim can you dance a little for Mark." She nodded and as she rose from the sofa her skirt fell back into place. She looked back at Chet as if for further instruction. You don't need this, he told her, rising with her and pulling the sweater and bra away. As she began to sway to the music on the stereo he winked at mark and refilled their wine glasses. "Do it Kim," Chet encouraged, "show us how good you are on your feet and make those beautiful boobs swing and sway." Her shoes off now, eyes half closed, she moved to the music for quite a while before Chet asked if he had seen enough but did not wait for an answer. Instead he came up behind her and started playing with both breasts, whispering to her all the while. Kim was clearly aroused, but also aware of Mark's presence. "Chet," she said, her breath shortening, "the other night was wonderful but is this a good idea?" "Mark," he said between breaths into her ear and nibbles at her neck, his hand continuing on her very exposed and highly aroused breasts, "Kim seems a little embarrassed for you. You don't mind this, do you?" As if on cue, Mark rose and walked toward them. "Kim, it's OK," he said as he reached them, clasping both her hands and squeezing them solicitously. With Chet behind her, she was sandwiched between them. Picking up on Chet's soothing, reassuring tone, he nuzzled her cheek gently and said, "You are a very sweet girl and your openness is an asset." With that he unclasped her hands and reached under her skirt to cup her derriere, practically meeting Chet's hands headed in the opposite direction the vortex of her thighs. In a matter of seconds, Kim had gone from mild protest to complete buy in, moaning and even coaxing. "Time to shift gears, podnuh," Chet said from over her shoulder. "Bedroom?" Mark asked. "Not yet," Chet said motioning toward the dining nook." get her up on that oak table and do some exploring. "Please," Kim said in a plaintive voice Chet knew very well and Mark would learn in the hours ahead. • • • The moment he entered Kim's apartment, Chet took note of the impressive oak dining table. Judging from laptop computer and papers one onside, she used it as a desk as well. Now it was time to put it to even better use. They half walked, half carried her over to it and Chet motioned Mark to clear the table. Then, as gently as they could, they lifted Kim up and onto the table on her back. Her feet dangled over one side at first, but Chet reached under to undo the hooks and pull the top apart, creating space where extender leaves would normally fit. "That will come in handy in more ways than one," he said with a laugh. "Almost time to play, but I want to run down to the car for a sec. Can you keep her interested for a few minutes when I'm gone? Don't let her come. Maybe give her a little taste of Marky Mark? She likes that." In college they'd developed codes for each other's cocks -- Chet the Jet and Marky Mark. Mark just shook his as Chet extricated Kim's house keys from her purse and left. Were they breaking any laws? She had invited them in and had not screamed or demanded that they leave. Looking at her, lying there, his excitement was tempered by compassion. He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers. It morphed into a tender, almost innocent kiss and, instinctively, she reached up from her position on the table and encircled his neck with her arms. Totally out of place in these outrageous circumstances? Maybe not, he thought. Obviously on some level she wanted, even needed and possibly craved all this. Whatever Chet had in mind for her, maybe Mark could establish a level of caring and trust to signal Kim that he, at least, would look out for her, not let things get out of hand, and make sure she understood how much he enjoyed being there. As that first kiss lingered, Mark reached down, undid Kim's skirt and put it under her head. "Comfortable?" he asked. She showed no signs of trying to escape, if that was the right word. There were only those lace panties now and as he half stood half kneeled at the edge of the table, cradling her head with his left arm, he reached under it with right hand and found her pussy through the separation he and Chet had created when they extended it. Kim sighed and stiffened then moaned, "yes..please, yes...you feel so good. I love it." Then Mark remembered Chet's admonition and suggestion. He stopped diddling her, stood up, returned to the head of the table, and, fully erect in more ways than one, undid his fly. He separated her lips with his fingers, then gently raised her head up. The table height was perfect. Kim opened her lips to accept his penis and engorged it, sucking and sucking and sucking as he continued to stroke her in every erogenous spot he could reach, gauging the effectiveness of each new find by the heightened enthusiasm her tongue and lips expressed. It was just as well that Chet returned just then. Mark had waited a long time for this. He did not want to come too soon either. "Well now," Chet said, "this looks like a keeper. Say cheese." He had his camera and Mark began to shield his face from the lens before his friend reassured him that only Kim would be identifiable in the photos. He snapped a couple off, then let the camera dangled form his neck and went to work with the other item he'd retrieved from the car, some stretchable tie-downs. In short order, tethering Kim's wrists were tethered to the corner legs of the table and after the panties came down without a struggle, one ankle was tied to the other by a length of the elastic rope stretched under the table to spread her wide. Now she was just about as Mark remembered her from the photos he had seen in the bar barely an hour earlier except for the expanse of the separated tabletop that the well-formed globes of her ass were suspended over. "Want to see the height of adaptation?" Chet said. "Watch this?" He scooted under the table and emerged through the opening and between Kim's thighs, perfectly situated to begin the next round of play. "Feel free to give her another taste of Marky Mark?" he suggested. "I'm going to work down here for a while and give her just enough to make her want a little more, right baby?" Somehow hearing herself referred to in the third person probably underscored the idea that Kim had little or no choice in of this. She only moaned as the two of them went to work, if that was the word, touching, stroking, nibbling and prodding her everywhere and anywhere, slowly, ever so slowly, bringing her desires to higher and higher levels that were accompanied by a corresponding wantonness that Mark had seen only in bad movies. All along he kept whispering to her and, when her mouth was not otherwise occupied and she could respond, asking her to tell them what she would like them to do. "Fuck me," she said, barely audibly. "All in good time," Mark whispered back, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "We need to get you ready first." "I'm ready," she said. "Be patient," he counseled, moving his fingertips back to her breasts and softly, slowly, flicking the nipple to full attention as she started to moan and to writhe as much as the tie-downs would allow. "If you're good girl I might even suck your titties." Down below, Chet was slowly moving his own hands up the down the inside her thighs, ever so often allowing the labia to feel the flick of his tongue just long enough to grow ever more desperate for a deeper, more extended visit. When he'd done this the first time at his place, Chet thought, it was effective enough, but the two of them toying with her together, sometimes in tandem, at times independently was much better. They could go on like this half the night, he thought, though he knew at some point he had to start Mark on his way back home. "Having fun?" he asked his friend. "What do you think?" Mark asked back. "Well better call your wife and say we decided to have dinner and make it a late night. "I'll text her," Mark said. "Less of a complicated conversation that way. Not a problem." As he did that, Chet too, walked away from the table. "You look like you can use a little break, Kim You're getting all sweaty." "I hate you," she said in frustration, instantly regretting it when he added, "That'll buy you an extra five minutes of quiet time. Pleading is one thing. But we didn't come hear to be abused!" "Bastard," she whispered but not low enough. She burst into tears. Chet pivoted and said, "We will have no tears here, young lady" "Oh no, no. no..." she said as he went to work on the soles of her feet. "Ticklish, too?" Chet laughed. "My cup runneth over.' She just about convulsed against the restraints as he tickled her feet. "This is a good exercise, Kim," he said impassively. "It will allow you to demonstrate your self-discipline. Nobody has to be ticklish. It's psychological. We'll overcome this together. Just try a little harder" "I'll try," she said, "but please stop." "Do you really hate me?" Kim, he asked, still working her vulnerable soles. "No," she said. "You know I don't hate you." "And how to do you feel about Mark?" "He's very nice." "Good," Chet said. "I'll stop tickling you, but you know there is a price to be paid for your insolence, don't you?" "Yes, sir," she said. It was the first time she had called him sir. "All part of your training, Kim," he said, unstrapping her. "Now go get your vibrator and some lubrication and come back in here." She headed off. "This," Chet said to Mark, "should really be fun." • • • After that first night at Chet's apartment, Kim had thought of little else and the vibrator she now extricated from the bottom drawer of her bedroom bureau had been a handy accomplice in several efforts to recreate the mixture of denial and exhilaration that left her simultaneously satisfied and in need of more. Thus when Chet called to say he would drop by this evening, she immediately fell victim, if that was the word, to a state of excited anticipation. Big Ernie (her personification of the pet vibrator) might be able to approximate the wanton feeling he'd brought out in her but not the ironic sense of liberation she'd experienced after allowing him to tie her up and take total control. Then, when the door opened and both Chet and Mark appeared, Kim flashed back to events on another night, in college, one she'd told herself at the time she would never allow again. The five of them, her roommate and three nice guys at one of the less raucous fraternities, had downed a few beers during a study group session and started to fool around a little, mostly cute teasing stuff. But when the roommate departed to get some sleep before an early class the next morning, Kim decided to stay behind for a while. She had no class until the afternoon and she was having a good time, especially enjoying the impact of a hash-laced brownie. Kim hadn't exactly dated any of the three guys, but had danced much of the night at a party once with one, a pre-med major named Chris, leading to a very sweet make-out session on the walk back to her dorm. So when he snuggled up to her in the room at the frat house, it felt comfortable and familiar and, no doubt operating with hash-reduced inhibition, paid little heed to the fact that two other guys were right there. By the time she and Chris came up for air, another round of beers had been opened and, in her high from the alcohol and drugs mixed with her advanced sexual arousal to render Kim absolutely euphoric. So when after a time she felt three mouths and six hands kissing and caressing and undoing her clothes, it only seemed to add to the moment. She was returning Chris's passionate kiss and reacting to his fingers on her breasts when she felt someone unbuckle her jeans and start pulling them down. It was his roommate, Bill, and he wasted little time, diving into her muff. God, if he didn't know just what to do, too! Even today, Kim could not quite reconstruct exactly how and when the third guy -- was his name Roger? -- made it a ménage a quatre. But she could recall with equal parts excitement and shame where that led. In seconds Chris's dick was in her mouth and Bill's was between her legs — and she was giving No. 3 the hand job of his young life. Hands were everywhere on, under and in her as well. Kim found out a number of things about herself that night, principal among them that once aroused and engaged she could outlast three virile males. That was all to the good, actually, because before she left she warned them, "If I hear that any of you breathed a word about this outside this room I will let the entire campus and half the Western world know that all three of petered out on me, do you understand? I have a reputation to protect — and so do you!" So, these years later the concept of taking on more than one man at a time was not new or even shocking, but part of Kim still felt outraged and betrayed by Chet's move. Couldn't he have at least broached the subject before showing up with Mark in tow? Chet must have sensed as much because he followed her into the bedroom. "Hey, I'm sorry, sweetie,' he said, putting his hands on her bare shoulders." I hope you don't mind that I brought Mark along. I know I should have called but you should have seen the look on his face when saw the photos. He hasn't gotten near his wife in months. I'll be extra good to you if you're nice to him, babe. Promise." "How nice?" she asked in a husky voice, turning toward him. "This nice," he said, taking her into his arms and kissing her. "After I drop Mark off would you like me to come back and stay the night?" Kim nodded and for the first time Chet knew that she was his in any and every way he wanted. She held the vibrator in her right hand and a tube of lubricant in her left. They'd come in handy soon, but first there was some unfinished business. Chet & Kim Ch. 03 Kim showed up at the door barefoot in a terry robe and slippers, the epitome of a girl in for the night, and started to smile before bursting into tears. "What's the matter, baby?" Chet asked, reaching out to her. "I thought you weren't coming back," she sobbed. "I said I would come, didn't I?" he said. "You must think I'm such a tramp," she said folding into his arms. "Not at all, Kim," he said, barely above a whisper in her ear, and then moved her lips to his and gave her a long, romantic kiss, hardly noticing that the robe had opened so that her bare breasts and belly were tight against him. "We just both know we you need, don't we baby? What we want. What we love." "Oh, god, yes" she said as his free hand moved almost instinctively to her breast. "I want it so much. It feels so good." He moved from her nipple to the other, following what he now knew was a sure-fire formula for reducing her to a state of pure desire, but loosened his grip on her and asked, "Are you hungry? I never had dinner." She seemed torn for a moment, as though she needn't eat again for the rest of her life if he would only keep arousing her. "Me neither," she said, finally. "Let me take you out, then" he said. "Nothing fancy. Thrown on a sweat suit, OK? And Kim..." "Yes" she said, as usual answering almost as if she was in a trance." "Nothing underneath." She nodded and went into the bedroom, returning in about five minutes, with her hair brushed, a hint of fresh makeup and the requested attire. It was a 10-minute drive to the Brightwaters Diner. Chet steered her to a corner banquette at the far end and after the ordered drew her close and casually brought her right nipple back to attention through the jersey material with his right hand and moved his left into position between her thighs. "Oh, god" she said again, "how do you know just what to do? I thought after you left I might not want to go near a man for days and now here you are driving me wild all over again. What have you done to me? What's wrong with me?"" The waitress came over with glasses, menus and a special greeting for Chet. "Hey, sailor, haven't see you in ages!" "Trudy," he said, "you are lookin' gooood. Meet a special friend of mine. Kim, this is Trudy, mother confessor to every trucker between here and the state capital." "Hey now, watch that mother stuff!" the waitress protested. She was in her early 40s and looking a little the worse for being near the end of a 10-hour shift, but there was a sparkle in her brown eyes and she seemed to be in very good shape, especially when she leaned over to pour the water and revealed about two-thirds of a small but extraordinarily pert breast for a woman her age. "Let's see what else looks good," Chet said, opening one menu for them both to read so they could be close together. "She seem pretty friendly," Kim said. "How well do you know her? "Are you jealous already?!" Chet said, feigning umbrage. "Let me show you who is the apple of my eye, baby." While his left hand was on the menu his right crept under Kim's waistband and found its way to her mons Venus. Workout pants, indeed, he thought. Once he found a girl like Kim the secret to keeping the connection alive was maintaining contact. He'd learned that way back in high school from his interactions with a girl named Clarissa who, in the vernacular of the schoolyard, couldn't get enough. In math class or on the school bus she looked like any other 10th grader, maybe even a bit primmer and plainer than the average, but once they were together at Mrs. Constantine's house where Clarissa babysat several nights a week she could morph into a raving nympho. He could get hard to this day thinking of Clarissa, though of course at this moment that part was redundant. 'They make a great Reuben here and the BLT isn't bad either," Chet said, adding, "you're very special Kim, so open about your feelings and needs and so generous, too. All Mark could talk about on the way back to his car was how wonderful and giving you were. He's been going through a kind of hard patch and you showed him how nice a girl could be." "He was very sweet," Kim said. "Would you like me to bring him by again some time?" She reached for the hand that was not between her legs and squeezed. "Whatever you think," she said. Trudy was back for their order and they settled on breakfast for dinner. "Good choice this time of night," the waitress advised with a smile. "The blue plate specials ain't so special by now, if you get my drift." When he returned with their orders, Chet realized that except for a trucker nursing his coffee at the counter and another couple at a table near the door just finishing up, they had the place to themselves. "Slow?" he asked Trudy who was lingering nearby, seemingly oblivious to Kim trying to maintain her composure despite what Chest was doing to her under the table. "Hey even the hookers have cut their prices," Trudy said with laugh. Now that's what I call a recession?" "Tips can't be good." "No, but we laid one girl off and two of us are covering the extra hours so it evens out. Damned shame of it was she and I were having a good ol' time of it and now she's left town. Sweetest little girl you'll ever want to meet, too." "Trudy!" Chet said in mock consternation," are you still going after the young ones?" That caught what was left of Kim's attention and Chet sensed an explanation was in order. "Trudy plays both sides of the street," he said, adding with a laugh, "and sometimes simultaneously." "Now, now, you be a good boy Chet," Trudy said, reaching across the table to put her arm on his shoulder and suddenly becoming aware of exactly what his other arm was up to." Kim reddened and Chet offered a helpless shrug but Trudy never missed a beat, turning to Kim and adding, "You got a real good one there, honey, but I can see you already know that." Chet decided it was no time to get flustered. "I swear, Trudy, you are shameless!" he said. "Embarrassing a girl you've just met. Kim, don't pay her any mind. If she had half a chance she'd be right where you are and loving every second." "Been there, done that," Trudy said with a slight smirk. "But if that's an offer, I'm off in about 20 minutes and my place is just around the corner and two lights up." She wheeled and headed off to pick up her tip clear the other table. "She might have seemed rude," he said to Kim, "but she's really not like that at all. She's salt of the earth good people. I really do think she was a little jealous. I just not sure of which one of us." Kim started giggling despite herself. "It's OK," she said. "I kind of liked how direct she was." "How you feeling?" Chet asked in a suddenly solicitous voice, beginning to move two fingers in and out of Kim's vagina with firm regularity. "Would you like me to stop?" "No," she said. "Can we go back to Trudy's place?" "It...it's..pretty late," Kim said. "And I thought you were enjoying yourself," Chet teased, pulling his fingers out of her and allowing them to linger on her labia. He could feel her abdomen reach for him. "Is it too late for this?" he asked, probing more deeply than before and wriggling his fingers like a human sex toy." "Noooooo" she said, seemingly resigned to what would come next and, eyes closed tightly, fought the impulse to signal the onset of an orgasm in her usual highly vocal way." Chet could feel Kim tense and knew. He also had spent enough time with her by now to realize that under normal conditions on orgasm would beget another and another. But he wanted to get her out of the diner and off Trudy for a whole new aspect of this very busy night. He extricated his hand from her, reached into his wallet for cash to pay the bill and guided her out from behind the table and up cash register where Trudy awaited them. "What's the address?" he asked her. "It has been a while, hasn't it, Chetster," she teased, writing her address on an envelope for them. "I'll be out of here in about five minutes. Pull up to one of the visitor parking spots out back. I'll meet you there and let you up." In the car, Chet took advantage of the extra time to cozy to Kim again, holding her and kissing her tenderly and telling her she was an exciting woman who deserved to be made happy and loved. When she hugged him back and kissed him with equal passion he gently took her head in his hands and guided it to his lap. "Unzip me, sweetie," he said. "You've earned another taste of Chet's jet. She was so excited and grateful for the chance that her hands shook as she unsheathed his stiffening member and took it in her mouth. "Yum yum?" he asked, lifting her so she could answer. "Oh yes," she said. "You always know what I want." "Enjoy, baby. Go nice and slow. Let me feel that tongue. Love me up good." You never know when you wake up in the morning, Chet thought. Whether this is the day you are going to get to live out a fantasy. He kept her positioned and pushed the driver's seat back so that there was room for her head between his cock and the steering wheel. Then he turned on the ignition and started backing the car out of the parking lot. He'd always wanted a blowjob on wheels and it only a few blocks on deserted streets between the diner and Trudy's apartment this was a safe way to make it happen. * * * On one level Kim felt like the proverbial kid in the candy store, but with a nagging sense somewhere in the back of her mind, maybe way back there, that there had to be a price for such excessive gorging. Could you eat too much chocolate or have too many orgasms? There were aspects of all that had happened this evening and her reactions to it that even amazed her, principal among them the way she had gone with the flow, punning aside, and allowed herself to luxuriate in the sheer ecstasy and wantonness of it all. Now, as she moved her lips up and down Chet's very erect member there was almost a sense of pride in how obviously well she was pleasuring him as well as a drive to perform in ways that would keep him coming back for more. As sure of himself as he seemed as dominant a role as Chet had assumed with her, if he knew how fearful she had been that he would not come back, Kim thought, he would consider her his to with as he wished for life. That in turn took her mind back to their current destination: Trudy's place. Kim thought she understood what lay ahead there. She hadn't needed Chet's explanation to size the waitress up. Plenty of women had looked at her just that way even when a man didn't have three fingers in her overflowing honey pot. And while Kim knew they'd given her an eyeful, she'd stolen her own glance at the small very well formed breasts as the top of her waitress uniform opened as Trudy leaned forward. The one time Kim had responded to the interest of another woman and reciprocated, it was with someone with just such a body — slender and shapely, a feminine touch tempering the butchiness. And the results were so undeniably exciting that she'd experienced a lot of soul searching in the ensuing days, wondering. Could she be bi? But it had been a ships-in-the-night connection and no similar opportunity had presented itself since, so the doubts departed—until now. With her mind full of such thoughts and her mouth full of Chet's erection, Kim lost track of time, not realizing that they'd been parked outside Trudy's apartment until the woman knocked on the passenger side window and Chet flicked the switch to roll it down. "No fair getting any head starts on me!" she laughed. Until very recently, having an almost complete stranger discovered her head in the lap of a lover would sure have embarrassed Kim but all she did was lift herself up and laugh. "You know what, lady? she adlibbed. "Where I come from the early bird gets the worm." "Darlin'" Trudy responded in her best diner twang, "That's a purty good-sized worm. Might be enough there to go 'round." For once, Chet was speechless.