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Hunger Ch. 01

By: darkgoddess2478



Maki closed the door of his hotel room and headed down the stairs to the street. The temperatures of the fall night were rather brisk and with the light rain misting down, the air picked up a distinctive chill. He pulled his head in closer to his body, trying to keep as much warmth as possible trapped in his trench coat and jammed his hands deep into his pockets. The clothing he was wearing led him to being warm, so it was done as a form of habit more than necessity. He walked quickly passing the other night-goers who laughed and talked and hustled up and down the street. He stuck close to the buildings, sliding past those who were on the fringes surrounding the surge of passersby who were headed in the opposite direction. The overhead lights illuminated the path he was treading, knee high leather boots making very little sound. 

The night was Maki's haven. There was something about the night sky that brought him solace. Everything about the night was calmer, more peaceful, and the people were a hell of a lot better, too. Maki preferred the people with dyed hair and "too many" body piercings, enjoyed watching people on street corners and frequenting the night clubs. He preferred sleeping during the morning hours and being awake in the evenings and nighttime. It wasn't a lifestyle for everyone, and that's the way he liked it. 


His footfalls slowed as he approached the club and pulled the brass handle on the large wooden double doors in front of him. Two women approached him: one blonde, the other a brunette. They were both dressed very much alike as each of them was wearing thigh high patent leather boots with stiletto heels with what small amount of leg he could see above the top of the boot being covered by fishnet stockings. The blonde woman was wearing a patent leather teddy with a vinyl miniskirt. The brunette was wearing only a corset, no top, and a pair of thong panties. Slave collars of thick black leather adorned their necks, one single silver ring at their throats. Maki watched them as they ran their hands over his body and it was difficult for him to tell if they were frisking him or just touching him. The brunette removed his coat and the blonde gave him a claim ticket. He watched them walk to his right and behind a service counter. 

~*~*~*~*~*

"What the hell is wrong with people tonight? Seriously. Are there no beautiful people left in this goddamned town?"

"Easy, now, Gunnar." Maya soothed, touching his arm as she glided around the counter. "Did you see the one we just brought in?" 

"No." Gunnar seemed slightly annoyed Maya hadn't called his attention before the beauty had slipped away. "Where is she?"

"She? It certainly didn't FEEL like a she." She smiled a quirky little smile through her long blonde tresses and filed at a broken nail. "No, he most definitely was a HE." Maya bit her tongue between her teeth until she drew blood. "I WISH I didn't have to be working tonight. I would tie that boy to the wall." Maya dropped off as Gunnar walked out from behind the counter and into the atrium. "Gunnar, you can't just LEAVE!"

He turned to look back at the girls. "You're the ones that have to work tonight. Not me." 

~*~*~*~*~

Maki stepped forward onto red carpeting and looked around the atrium that was far too quiet for the club setting he was entering. The ceilings were vaulted with windows of stained glass, much like you would see in a Catholic cathedral. The designs filling the windows, however, were a different story. The first window Maki laid his eyes on was of a woman seated on a black couch, clad in nothing more than a pair of evening length black gloves, knee high black boots, and radiant beauty. In each hand she held a leash which attached to one male and one female who sat obediently at her feet. Around her was a brilliant display of color from the different pieces of cut glass. The second window featured a girl in a long black flowing dress with black hair and black lips, standing with her arms outstretched, her head slightly tilted. The glass behind her was blood red, her skin was moonlight white. The contrast was quite striking and Maki was quite taken with it. He stared at her for a few minutes before inspecting the other windows one at a time. The artistry was breathtaking! His visual tour stopped on the first window, catching his eye once again. 

"They're quite lovely, yes?"

Maki turned and looked down to a man who had come up on his right. He smiled slightly and nodded his head just once. The man turned his eyes to the window at which Maki had been gazing. 

The man continued. "She has the gift of a Goddess, that one." He sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead just above his right brow with the back of his hand, smoothing his hair behind his ear. "When the moon is in the right place, she lights up and it looks as if the glass were a living and breathing thing. And I'm not the only one who has stood here to look at her." He smiled up at the woman's image. Maki turned his gaze once again to the ceiling and stared into the mural eyes. "Care for a drink?"

Maki nodded and then followed as the man led the way further into the club through a second set of doors. The moment the door cracked open, Maki could feel the eyes of the club patrons on him. It was like that everywhere he went. Everyone had to watch him. He was fairly accurate how long it would take for someone to tell him how beautiful he was. 

Three… "My God." The first whispered response. 

Two… Maki's toes touched the baseboard of the bar. "Look…" another voice, hurried, as though Maki might fly away should they not catch him right then. 

One… Maki's hip bumped the barstool. "Oh my God you're beautiful…" It was muttered in a breathless murmur at his side. He turned toward the voice and smiled a half smile with just the left corner of his mouth and met her eyes. She dropped her eyes from his and a very faint stain of pink flushed across her cheeks. It was the same statement, different location, always the same story: never handsome, but nearly breathtakingly beautiful. The first five or six times the compliment was given, Maki was flattered. It began to lose appeal very shortly thereafter and he had since perfected the timing into an art. Maki raised one brow as he accepted a drink from the bartender.

"It's a house specialty called Black. I thought it would be fitting." He eyed Maki's attire, almost admiringly. "I hope you don't mind that I bought?" Maki continued his quirky expression, raising it to the man's eyes. His head cocked slightly to the side and slightly forward, questioning. 

The man laughed. "Here." He took the drink from Maki's hand and swallowed a mouthful. "I didn't have it poisoned." He handed the drink back and Maki took it, smiling a small, genuine smile. The man offered his hand. "The name's Gunnar."

Maki took his hand and shook with a firm handshake. "I'm Makiros."

"Makiros." Gunnar repeated, his brow furrowed. 

"Friends call me Maki. Like the mouse." He was shocked at how soft spoken he sounded. That was something he was going to have to change. 

Gunnar laughed. "All right. Maki it is. So, what brings you here tonight, Maki?"

"Boredom." He blinked slowly and tasted his drink, finding it very much to his liking. He'd have to remember and ask what was in it. Perhaps other places would make it for him since there were so few drinks Maki could actually stand. 

"You seem to be a man of few words, Maki." 

"Usually." His eyes showed amusement. 

"Hmmm." Gunnar sipped at his drink. It was a 7/7 if Maki wasn't mistaken. "I haven't seen you here before." He paused as if waiting for a reply and looked up at Maki over the rim of the glass he held. "Are you new in town or just new to the club in general?"

"No, I'm fresh blood. You were right to grab me when you did." Maki sighed and relaxed, leaning back in his chair. He surveyed the crowd nearest his table who were dancing to something he didn't recognize but had a decent beat. 

"I caught sight of you when you walked in." He was lying, but didn't exactly care. "Will it surprise you when I tell you that you are extremely beautiful? Or does it embarrass you to have a man compliment you that way?"

Maki stifled a laugh that came as a snort. "No, it doesn't embarrass me and I have been half expecting it." Maki stretched his arms behind his head and then pulled his waist length black hair from behind his back. It swung across the chair back and settled thick and straight. He rested his chin against his hand with his elbow resting on the table in front of him. Maki had worn leather tonight. The top was long sleeved with a mock turtle neck. The pants were all too tight and Maki had laced his boots so they were over the legs of the pants. The leather of the entire outfit had been pieced together and was stitched with obvious thick black stitches. His skin was white: as pale as the image had been in the window glass, although Maki's eyes were dark charcoal colored and only slightly lighter than the pupils. Maki leaned forward and smiled another of his half smiles. 

"Then would it be bad form if I kissed you?" Gunnar reached out to tuck a lock of hair back behind Maki's ear. He ran his fingers along his jaw line, down his neck and slipped his hand behind Maki's head, fingers wrapped in the black silk of that long hair. He closed his eyes and shuddered slightly, feeling the want twist in his belly. He applied gentle pressure against the back of Maki's head, pulling him forward. He leaned around the table edge and their lips pressed softly together sending a jolt of liquid electricity singing between them. Maki shivered slightly and reached a hand behind Gunnar's ear, his fingers barely touching flesh and parted his lips with the same softness, allowing Gunnar to make the moves. He had been craving this for far too long to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. If he was believed to be passive, making a move that came across too strong would shatter that illusion. Maki was very selective in his male partners and it had been quite some time since he had found anyone who piqued his curiosity. It wasn't often he got the craving for male flesh, but when the mood struck, he sated the need as quickly as possible. Gunnar's lips broke from Maki's and he blinked very slowly, a smile turning slightly as their eyes met. 

"Well, that's… um… not what I expected to happen." Gunnar stated softly. 

"Should I be offended?" Maki stated more than asked.

"Oh, no." Gunnar shook his head. "It was nice, believe me. But that was not how I… that wasn't…"

"Expect it to be a lot harder than it was, did we?" Maki smirked. 

"Well, yea." 

"So now that we have that out of the way and you are suitably uncomfortable." Maki paused. "Not used to being the dominant in a relationship, are you?"

Gunnar blinked. "I'm generally the dominant. You seemed rather submissive earlier, unless I was mistaken."

"I'm a switch. It depends on what strikes my fancy, who piques my interest, my mood, and those I actually see fit to get my hands or lips on. I'm a picky bitch." He grinned from ear to ear. Gunnar returned the grin. 

"I hate to kiss and run, but I've been summoned." He nodded his head in the general direction of the door they had entered from. One of the two greeters was beckoning. Gunnar stood, but continued leaning down in close proximity to Maki. "I have a feeling I'll be in the show tonight. You'll watch for me."

Maki snorted again and shook his head softly. "Of course I'll be watching." Gunnar smiled and headed off for the door. It was cute the way Gunnar attempted at ordering him. As soon as he was out of sight, Maki took in his surroundings. The people here were all of a darker flavor; fetishists, vampire lifestylers, punks, rivetheads, modern primitives, and the completely normal people who looked like they had just stepped off of the street in the middle of the daylight. The dance floor was decently full of people stepping, stomping and swaying to the music. The DJ was in a tuxedo with a Phantom mask and was also bobbing along with the music from behind the booth. There were plenty of people crowded around the bar chatting with each other as they sipped their drinks. Waitresses were canvassing the floor or standing at the bar station to pick up their drinks and, not surprisingly, they were dressed much like the coat clerks. On the opposite side of the bar there were couches and chairs much like one might see in a coffeehouse with bookshelves lining the area. There were people sitting on the two couches reading and discussing while two submissives sat patiently at their Master's feet as he talked with another man sitting on a couch across a coffee table. To the left of the tall oak doors, there was a dark doorway covered by long strips of leather that functioned like a kind of a door. He could tell there was light behind the strips, but no one had entered or exited the area in the short amount of time Maki had noticed it. 

He felt a presence to his right and looked up instinctively. A woman stood beside him in a long black PVC ball gown. Her skin was as moonlight, her eyes lined in black, and her lips crimson red lined in black lip liner. Maki raised his eyebrows slightly. She spoke softly but forcefully. "Is this seat taken?" Maki shook his head and gestured to the seat in front of him that was closest to her. She took her seat gracefully and crossed her legs, then tilted her head ever so slightly. "I've not seen you here before. Are you new?"

Maki nodded in compliance. "Yes. I had heard of this place when I had visited the area once before. My time ran out last time but since I had time tonight, I decided to drop by."

"Interesting. So what do you do for a living?"

"One might say I am an artist." 

The woman nodded sagely. "Music is an art lost." She examined her nails, painted the same color as her lips. "You're in town with the tour, correct?" Maki nodded again, taking in her exquisite beauty. Although seeming relatively disinterested with the conversation and Maki, the woman leaned forward slightly. "What is your flavor?"

Maki's brow furrowed. "My flavor?" The woman nodded. 

"Yes. Your flavor. Are you dominant or submissive?"

"I tend to be a switch and it's really dependant on my mood."

"I see." Her eyes never met his, but it was not a show of submission. She exuded confidence and raw sensuality. "And what does your mood give us tonight?"

Maki smirked. "I'm feeling rather submissive this evening. Why do you ask?"

Her eyes flicked up to his suddenly. "I'm looking for another pet for tonight's show and I was piqued by you." The slightest hint of a coy smile played on her lips, and then darted to her eyes where it danced for a moment. She sighed. "I wondered if you would be interested." Maki thought for a moment. 

"What would you have with me?"

"I would have you collared as a pet for the evening. Nothing more, nothing less. I could keep you by my side as a favored pet if you are put off by pain or sissification." 

He smiled and lowered his head, clearing his throat before meeting her gaze again. "Pain is pleasure and I have worn dresses for sport. I don't think that it would bother me. At all." He stopped to gauge her reaction. Finding none, he continued. "And I think I would rather enjoy it." 

Her eyes picked up a dark glee and her lips parted in an expression much like a little girl given a new doll on her birthday. "You should bring your drink and come with me." She rose from the table and headed toward the leather doorway. Maki picked up his glass and followed her behind the curtain and into a dimly lit room bathed in red light. Inside three women were administering forms of torture to the patrons who had been called inside. One man was sitting in a chair while electrodes were being fixed to his naked flesh. Another was being whipped against a wall while a third was enjoying needles to his skin. Maki was passingly fascinated by the Dommes at work and wished he could stay and observe them, but followed the woman who led him. 

She walked through another doorway and into a room with a blue light and sat delicately on a throne. On each side of the chair were shackles large enough for a neck with a length of chain on each to allow for some mobility. Maki stood in front of her and took a long drink as he waited for her to speak. "Have you been in a dome sub relationship before?"

"I have."

"And you know what is expected of you."

"I do."

"I will assume that you will take to this rather well. And since you are a new pet, I will be especially rough with you."

"I would expect nothing less. However, I do ask for one thing."

She raised her eyebrows. "Yes?"

"Nothing happens to my clothes. I'm very fond of them and while I would not compromise the show, after my leash was released I'm afraid I would be most upset." 

The woman smiled. "I am assuming you are not afraid of being nude in front of a group of people?" 

"Once I have a collar around my neck you can do whatever you want to me."

"I'll hold you to that, you know." She grinned wickedly. 

"Again, I would expect nothing less."

"Then come and sit with Mistress while you finish your drink." Maki smiled slightly and knelt on the floor to her left. He kept his back facing her, folded his feet beneath him and sat on them lightly. A sudden thought occurred to him.

"One more thing."

She smiled. "Yes?"

"Nothing happens to my hair, and no bruising or cutting to my face."

"Vain are we?"

"Most definitely."

"I never scar my pets or cause lasting marks. And as for your hair, you have nothing to worry about. That was part of what drew me to you in the first place. I won't cut it or put anything in it that can't be easily washed out." She ran her fingers through a lock of his hair. Maki nodded. 

"Then I accept to be your pet for the evening." Maki set his drink aside. "I am finished. Collar me before we continue." The woman gestured and a girl walked forward from the shadows. She handed the Mistress a collar much like the coat clerk's collars. 

"Lift your hair." Maki did as he was commanded and the collar was placed around his neck. The Mistress slid two fingers between the collar and his neck as though she were fitting a dog, then gave it a yank. "Too tight, Pet?"

"No, Mistress."

"Excellent." She then spoke to the girl in front of her. "Go and fetch the others. I want to have them all collared and leashed. And make sure that the four Bearers are ready as well. Send in someone with appropriate clothing for our friend." She petted Maki with one hand. 

"Yes, Mistress Mora." The girl retreated from the room. 

"Now, Pet." Mora looped a lock of Maki's hair over her finger and pulled gently. Maki followed by leaning into the direction in which she pulled, eventually turning to face her. He kept his eyes diverted to the ground. "Undress. I want you ready when they bring your clothing for you." 

"Yes, my Mistress." His voice was soft, gentle and nearly whispered. Maki stood and began to remove his clothing. "Slowly, Pet. I don't want to miss one moment of your beautiful flesh." Maki nodded and followed her order. As was expected, he watched her, but did not make eye contact. He unfastened the snaps on the neck of his shirt, then unzipped the short hidden zipper along the shoulder. Slowly he slipped the bottom edge of the shirt up as though it were a nylon stocking. Before pulling it gently off of his head, he ran his hand along his belly, enjoying the coolness of his palm against his flesh. He freed his arms from the sleeves and dropped the shirt gently on the floor. He trailed the tip of his middle finger from his collar bone, down his belly and slipped it inside his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them. As was his usual fashion, he was not wearing underwear. He ran his hands along his hipbones, slipped the waistband down from one hip, then the other before finally allowing the leather to slip down his legs exposing soft white flesh inch by inch. Once he was fully undressed, he knelt again in his former position, placing his hands palms down on his knees. Mora stood and clipped a leash on the ring at the front of his collar and gave a short tug. Maki stood. 


Hunger Ch. 01



I am straddled across his body, my legs bent and gripping his hips, my hands on his chest and my head bent forward as the last wave of my orgasm ripples up from my groin. I feel the final contraction dissipate and the warm flow of my juice begin to seep from my body. Collapsing on him I gasp for breath and inhale the musky scent of his unwashed body. I feel the scratch of his unshaven growth rub against my cheek like a rasp as I recover from my stupor and I know he wants me to concentrate on finishing him.

"Your turn" I say, smiling and kissing him lightly on the lips. I lean down, nuzzle his neck and then snake out my tongue to lick behind his ear and make him squirm. I know what he wants, the way he likes to cum. I raise myself back slowly, scraping my faded nails down his chest, twirling the soft twisted hair that sprouts from his sternum. Resting my fingertips against his nipples, I tease him by tilting my head back so that my long chestnut hair falls down and rests on his balls which lie just below my ass. I fell him push up involuntarily as if he could escape the maddening touch by sticking his cock further inside my still swollen cunt.

"Come on" he pleads and grasps my hips with his hands, trying to lift me off. I resist and push back hard against him, grinding our pubic bones together. He tugs at me again and, finally, I relent and leer at him as I move my pussy slowly along the length of his cock until the engorged head of his prick lies just at the entrance of my hole. Lifting myself off of him, I hear a thud as his rigid cock, made slippery by my cum, slaps down onto his stomach and quivers expectantly. I stare at it, fascinated by its incessant trembling as it waits to be engulfed and taken once again to a warm and wet hiding place.

Swinging my leg so that my head rests above his thighs, I scooch back and lower my head to his scrotum and my breasts to his belly. As I burrow my face to his sac I arch my back and lift my gaping hole to the sky so that he can see the glistening wound he has made with his cock. I rest my head on his thigh as I take one of his aching, straining custard filled eggs into my mouth. I feel him lift his body off the mattress and then drop in response to the quick shot of pain that the suckling creates. I feel the squidgy tubes that run from the ball to the base of his shaft and think about the creamy fluid that will soon course through them before being shot out from the purple head that now sits atop my firmly closed fist.

As I pump him slowly, I lick the fine crease between the two plums that are disappearing into his body as the wrinkled skin that holds them draws taught from my ministrations. His cock, angry and engorged, has dried in the warm air and a faint white crust mutes the tone of the thin skin that is stretched tight about the veiny muscle that holds me forever enthralled. I gather the saliva in my mouth and run my lips along the underside of his spear leaking out my dribble as I move, catching it with my fingers and massaging it around his girth and then I glide my wet fist over the head, squeezing it gently to encourage the drop of his own emission that has peeked out of the little slit centered in the helmet of his penis.

I look back to see him with his head turned to the ceiling, eyes closed, mouth half open as I slide my hand along his cock, slowing as I reach the top and twisting my fist just beneath the ridge that divides the head from the shaft. I am thirsty now and I lift my head and reach out my tongue, gliding the tip of it around his hole and, impossibly, feeling his cock swell even more. I try to place the very end of my wet pink muscle into his hole and am rewarded when I withdraw it and see a thin line of dew as delicate and fine as spider's silk. I open my mouth wide and exhale gently onto the gleaming head which has begun to weep clear liquid in response to my steady strokes.

As I wrap my mouth around that wondrous knob I hear him gasp and mumble incoherently. I feel him strain and push as he tries to get more of his cock deeper into my throat. I grip him firm and ease my head back, letting my spit flow down his stiff dick and run down my fingers where most of it is captured while the rest drips and is caught by his pubic hair. I place the head of his cock against my cheek and rub it back and forth as I bob my head.

A familiar heat begins to grow between my legs as his excitement makes me yearn to have him inside of me again. I begin to throb as the emptiness in my womb and the tingle of my clitoris cloud my mind. I reach for his hand and place it on my ass. He understands and runs a finger between my cheeks, collecting the sweat to moisten his fingertips. He strokes my labia and dips a finger into me. I push back hard. He takes his finger out and slides it over my clit and I am stunned by how quickly I have begun to drip again. He rubs the sopping hair that protects my pussy and gently strokes my lips with my own slippery cum. He tries, but I am unfulfilled. I need a thick, hard cock in my cunt. Something I can ride, something I can slide along and grip. Something I can draw deep inside, impale myself on, gorge myself with, ram against until my hysteria is abated. I want him in my mouth and I want him in my pussy, together, at the same time.

Anguished, I determine to satisfy him the way he wants. I speed up the strokes on his cock and lengthen them so that my grip runs from the base of his dick to the tip of the head. I once again engulf the deep colored helmet with my lips, greasing it with spit so that it slides with slight friction as I work my head just down to the ridge before pulling back up. I let go of his shaft and using just my mouth to work his cock I take my hands and place them on the inside of his muscled thighs and spread his legs. He follows my guidance because he knows what is coming and he is past the point of wanting to wait.

I reach down and, while cupping his sac, rub a fingertip around his anus. I pull on his balls, stretching them down, milking them to encourage his ejaculation. I can feel him tense and marvel at how such a small action can always bring him to the end. I slow the tugging, open my mouth wide and lick the top of his cock. It swells and dances, a marionette guided by the flicking of my tongue. I hear his breath deepen and quicken. He moves a hand to himself wanting to end the torment. I grab it at the wrist and gently bite his prick, warning him to stay away. Whimpering, he drops his hand to his side, grips the sheets and waits.

I move swiftly, grabbing his swollen cock and placing half of it in my mouth. With force and deliberation, I slide myself along its length. I tickle his balls once more. I feel him lift his torso from the bed as his entire body tenses and I hear his agonized groan as his cock pulses and the first jet of slimy cum flies against the walls of my cheeks. I lay still while he pumps his hips and shoots more of the hot juice into my mouth. I don't move as he quivers when he squeezes his prick and extracts the last drop of his essence. I wait motionless until he softens and shrinks and slips quietly from my mouth.

I touch myself and remember my own ache and unfulfilled need.



Hunger Ch. 01



The wonderful thing about long lasting friendships is that they often create strange, but very interesting combinations of people.

Meet Sarah, a warm and caring woman who's not afraid to love and love deeply.

And Susan, a cold-looking woman who never lets anyone into her life, because it's just safer that way. 

And Rose, well-dressed, polished, seemingly happy, living what appears to be the perfect life.

And Mary, laughing, protective, all-seeing Mary, who keeps people away with her sarcasm and wit.

––––––––-

I used to think that my relationship problems had started when I had fallen in love that first time at the age of eighteen. In reality it was probably many years before that, from my early years of childhood, but if I had to name one critical moment it would be that one first love. 

It was a crazy, wild love that made me skip school, stay out late and generally not care what my mother said. She couldn't possibly know how much Seth loved me and I loved him. She was just jealous because she was a lonely old woman. But of course my mother was right about the "he's just using you"-part and the "he's a teenager boy, just one thought on his mind", because after finally saying yes to his heated "I need you" and "I want you" pleas, he laughed at me and made sure the whole school knew that I was a cold fish. He'd then gone on to ruin several other lives as well, whilst I cried myself to sleep not really helped by my mother's repeated, cold "I told you so"s.

I had given the relationship and human closeness-thing a few more tries as I grew older, but ended up hurt every time; hurt by the same comments about being cold, frigid, just lying there, stiff as a plank. And I was stiff and uncomfortable, because I was not even used to hugs and kisses – my upbringing was not exactly a loving one – and I was afraid that I'd do something wrong, say something wrong. In the end, I think it became something of a self-fulfilling prophecy.

And now words couldn't hurt me anymore, or rather I would never let it show on the outside. I could hear the whispers at work; I knew I was called "Ice woman", "Stone maid" and many other things describing my personality; at least the parts of my personality I ever let anyone know.

Along with the ice- and stone-descriptions I was also called something of a financial genius. I made beautiful piles of money for the already rich and sometimes famous, and I was respected and sometimes feared. After a successful investment or deal I would still always be referred to as a hard and cold woman. And in business I wasn't afraid to be just that, hard, dedicated, eyes on the target, in it to win it all the way through. And I didn't make any decisions based on emotions or intuition; it took hard work, calculations and hard core statistical analysis to become successful in my line of work. 

The people that hated and feared the "ice princess" didn't know how much fire I had inside, how hard I sometimes had to work to keep my cold outer mask intact. Small things could set me off, like an unusually beautiful song on the radio, a bright and colorful painting or the scent of a man passing me on the street. 

The money I made, for most people a small fortune, I spent on beautiful things that made me feel alive; the music that made me cry, the paintings that made me sigh and the books that made me think and laugh. My large, luxurious apartment in the posh parts of town was filled with – for me – unbelievable treasures. Some of the things were really expensive, but most were just small, cheap things, things that all held a special meaning for me. I was lucky that if I really wanted something badly enough, I could usually afford it. Sometimes it made me feel like a child, really needing something, absolutely having to have it; instant gratification supposedly not being good for you and so on. But it made me happy, and it didn't after all hurt anyone else.

As I came home from a long day of hard work, just entering my home made me feel as if my outer shell melted and after stripping away my strict business clothes and pulling on something old and comfortable, I could finally feel like the real me, soft and sensitive, no need for protection.

It would have been a lonely life if I didn't have my old friends to talk to once a week. Even my friends didn't know the real me from the block of ice I presented to everyone, but I really enjoyed meeting up with them on Thursday evenings, hearing them talk about everyday things, sometimes joining in, but mostly staying quiet, listening. 

- - - - -

Mary called me one Monday evening after having talked to a heart-broken Sarah. She told me to meet her and the others at our regular bar the day after. We needed to talk to and comfort Sarah, because the guy she'd been dating had turned out to be a lying, cheating SOB – Mary's words, not mine.

It took some rescheduling for me to be able to join "the girls" that day and time, and my head was still filled with numbers and my last angry discussion with a lazy co-worker, trying to take credit for the work of others, when I walked into the bar.

They were all sitting there, at our usual table, Sarah looking absolutely devastated. I hurried over to the bar, got myself a glass of wine and then joined them. Poor Sarah, she looked so sad. The fact that I didn't show any emotions did not make me less able to feel them or to feel for other people's pain. I awkwardly pressed Sarah's shoulder and then sat down, mask intact, ready to hear her story.

The stories my friends told me usually made me feel like I was somewhat missing out on life, but what Sarah told us that evening made me feel two things, bitterly aware that my protective shell was absolutely necessary and sad, because I couldn't be a better, more comforting friend when Sarah really needed one. I could tell that both Mary and Rose were able to give her some of that well-needed comfort, but still at that moment, I didn't feel like a very good friend. 

I'm embarrassed to say that the picture that Sarah painted with her quick words about the three-men-one-woman session she'd seen sent an excited throb through my genitals. "Thank you, over-active mind and sex-starved body, for that very fitting reaction" I thought to myself, glad that my inner turmoil was in no way showing on the outside.

- - - - -

Days passed by, with long workdays and lots of money-making activities. I didn't have or give myself time to stop and think about the feelings that Sarah's sadness had stirred in me, but that Saturday – the day in the week I forced myself not to work – all thoughts came crashing down on me.

My outer shell – my cold personality – that worked so well in my professional life and to protect me from potentially hurtful relationships, was hindering and could possibly destroy my friendship with the only three people I could actually call my friends. I didn't like the idea of, perhaps not long from now, being completely alone and having no one. Well actually, perhaps not being completely alone, my mother was still alive after all, but it would be difficult to call our relationship "friendly".

As always, thoughts of my mother made me depressed and had me absolutely dying for some ice cream – those sentiments usually went hand-in-hand after all. Keeping a strict, non-sugar diet on weekdays along with a steady, once-a-day workout schedule helped balance the intake of ice-cream on the weekends; an intake that I'd noticed had increased lately. Of course I took that as another sign that everything wasn't right in my world, I did after all analyze patterns and make decisions based on structured conclusions for a living, didn't I?

My increasingly depressed thoughts were interrupted by my phone signaling that Mary was calling. And yes, they all had their own separate ring tones, music chosen based on the feelings they brought me; in Mary's case an extremely well-written and complex piece with a lot of laughter in it. The music made me smile as I picked up and answered "Hello Mary".

"Hello there Sarah" she answered right back "I just thought I'd call and see how you were."

Already shaken by the thoughts that were running through my head, her well-timed call and her question made me feel naked and vulnerable; it also made me answer quite truthfully that actually I wasn't feeling very well.

"I could tell there was something wrong when met on Monday" Mary told me with a serious voice. "What can I do to help?"

Everything that I had on my mind sort of poured out of me in long, confused sentences. Mary kept quiet or said short things like "Continue" or "Go on" and when I was done talking she was quiet for a short while and then started talking.

"Being always in control is the easiest way of keeping yourself safe, but it could also be one of the most harmful ways." she said, voice still serious "Constantly masking your true feelings could eventually make you unable to feel anything, and that is a sorry way to live your life."

After a long breath she continued "Based on what you've told me, it seems like you've still got plenty of feelings left and that's a good thing. The hard part for you will be to start letting your feelings out through the mask. There are several ways to go about it though, and you'll have to find some way that works for you."

She was silent for a short while and then she said with a slightly shaky voice "I used a visualization technique where I imagined my mask getting thinner and then making it look like a sieve, lots of tiny holes in it."

I was surprised, both at the wisdom of her words, and her last confession on having had to deal with something similar to what I was going through. I didn't know what to say except thank you and after Mary telling me that I could call her anytime, we said goodbye. I put the phone away and sat down in my sofa, my head even more full of thoughts, trying to sort everything out and to put things in neat, organized stacks of information.

I had a mask because I was afraid of getting hurt. I wanted to be able to let certain people in, but not everyone. How would I be able to do that? 

In the end, when thinking about it had only given me a slight head ache, I gave up and went straight to the kitchen for my favorite brand of ice cream, cold and deliciously gooey with chocolates and cherries, everything a girl needed for some artificial happiness.

- - - - -

Meeting up at the bar again one Thursday evening some weeks later I had consciously decided to try to take my mask off and to let my friends meet the real me, but it seemed it wasn't as easily done as I had thought. 

As Mary told us about her week, about the poor kid and his dad, I felt all of these feelings but I just couldn't communicate them, they were all stuck inside. I could tell that Mary kept her eyes on me, a slight worried frown popping up very shortly before she started cracking jokes and making smart comments about Sarah's situation.

The thought hit me again – about me being just like a child – feeling insecure, being afraid of getting hurt. Perhaps what I needed was someone that could make me feel safe? I shook that silly thought off quickly, a self-reliant woman didn't need anyone but herself.

- - - - -

The agitation I had been feeling continued and even when I was walking around in my beautiful home I wasn't feeling as calm and satisfied as I used to. To get out of my funk, I decided to make some alterations in my living room and the master bedroom. Mary had recently had something fixed by a local firm and she'd given them high recommendations, so I googled their contact information and made a call.

An unusually deep male voice answered and as I described what I wanted to do he asked knowledgeable questions and made some very nice suggestions making me feel comfortable in the knowledge that my precious home would be taken care of by a professional. We decided to meet at my apartment later that week so I could show him in detail what I wanted. 

- - - - -

At the designated time, I walked up to my home, looked outside of the building but couldn't see any obvious builder/handyman-dressed person standing around so I walked in and pressed the elevator button.

"Ms. Carlton?" a dark, strong voice asked. 

I turned around and saw a nicely dressed man approaching me. 

"I'm Ben, from Sanderson & Sons."

I shook his hand and answered "Very nice to meet you" and then added "Call me Susan!"

The elevators in my building aren't small, but Ben – who wasn't either extremely wide or very much taller than I am – seemed to fill the space with his presence to the point that I almost couldn't breathe. Or maybe I just had to stop breathing to prevent myself from sniffing the air, his clean, natural man-smell spreading heat waves through my body like a wildfire. "Oh no" I thought to myself "not now, not this man". I could not possibly be attracted to this man, a man that would have access to my home, my safe haven.

How I got through the discussion with Ben about my need for extra storage space and changes in the color schemes in both bedroom and living room, I don't know. No man had ever put his foot inside my apartment, and having an attractive man walk around my two most important rooms made me feel uncomfortable and jumpy, with the added complication that all of my senses told me I wanted him.

He looked at the rooms, measured walls and windows, made notes about what needed to be done and took his time going through everything in detail. I kept my distance by standing in the doorway, answering his questions and telling him what I wanted. 

I didn't tell him all of the things I wanted of course, because frankly, I didn't think he'd like my tacky suggestions about sexual favors. And "handy man helps woman and ends up in bed" is such a porn film cliché. That last thought almost made me laugh out loud and when he finally left I was completely exhausted, having spent half an hour jumping between almost every emotion known to mankind.

After a quick dinner – a salad that neither had taste, nor calories – I decided to take a bath to try to calm down before going to sleep. There's something about just lying in warm water, letting thoughts come and go without consciously sorting them through, that has always had a very meditative effect on me. Since warm water was the only type of calming medication I ever used, the first thing I did after moving in was to buy a very nice, spacious bathtub, where I could easily fit my entire body.

I was lying in the bathtub letting thoughts pop up and fly away like tiny soap bubbles, just breathing, feeling and being in the moment, when I suddenly realized that most of the thoughts that were spinning in my head were surprisingly exact memory images of Ben stretching, bending, turning around, standing still and walking. I had barely seen what he was doing when he was there, having been stuck in anxious thoughts about someone invading my home, but it seemed that some part of me had been interested enough to store a lot of detailed information.

Needless to say, the calm I was trying to reach was hard to come by that evening and after going to bed I tossed and turned for a long time before breaking out one of my favorite vibrators. The choice of being alone doesn't just automatically make a woman's natural urges go away and life had taught me that a self-reliant girl is a happy girl. 

Some of the things I had collected through the years were not only very beautiful, but also highly useful, especially when it came to giving pleasure. The fact is that I probably owned the most expensive collection of sex toys in our little corner of the world. Some of the dildos and vibrators were just beautiful to look at, but not very practical to actually use, but still just looking at them also gave a guilty sort of pleasure. Most of the changes I wanted in my bedroom were actually because I was running out of storage space for my secret collection. 

The thought of Ben's hands building and touching the shelves where I would keep my beautiful pleasure treasure was enough for me to climax, clamping my lips shut to prevent myself from screaming aloud.

* * * * *

The woman I had spoken to over the phone had had one of the most sensual voices I'd ever heard, a smooth, low voice where you could easily imagine a lush, golden-haired sex goddess, dressed in thin clothes that showed more than they hid, almost certainly lying back on a comfortable bed of jewel-colored pillows, slowly describing what she wanted me to do, whilst pleasuring herself but somehow keeping her orgasm back until I was able to come there and...

I had to pull myself roughly back from that wonderful fantasy to at least try to keep a professional conversation going. Thankfully aided by the fact that I'd had the same type of discussion hundreds of times before, I managed to ask the right questions and even, surprising myself, made some suggestions that she seemed to find interesting. The call ended after we decided when to meet at her apartment and I stood up with annoyed puff, pulling restless fingers through my hair.

Obviously there was such a thing as going without sex for too long and if this was going to start happening every time I talked on the phone with a woman, then I'd better find a way to fix the problem. But it was not that easily fixed after all, was it? I wasn't into casual sex, I would never go to a prostitute and it seemed that dealing with the problem all by my lonesome wasn't quite cutting it anymore. That just meant I had to start dating again, didn't it? Or sign up for a dance class, cooking class or some other standard way of meeting "your true love". I had been with enough wicked witches from both east and west to know that I didn't find any of those ideas particularly interesting.

Sometimes I wished I was a little bit more like my brother, who wasn't very picky, never kept the same girlfriend for very long and seemed entirely happy about the way his life was going. But then again, I suspect he did have quite an active sex life, at least compared to mine.

I sat down, grumbling to myself about uneven distribution of female assets, and finished writing notes on our new building project, be it with golden sex-goddess or not.

- - - - -

The woman that walked up to the apartment building where I was waiting was not a golden sex-goddess, but rather more like a silver fairy creature, thin and almost brittle. As she walked with fast footsteps towards the door and into the building I realized both by the way she was walking and by the way she was dressed that my first impression of her might have been wrong. She didn't seem fragile, but strong, decisive and perhaps a bit cold.

I hurried into the building as she was heading for the elevators and stopped her with a quick "Ms. Carlton?" and when she turned around that strange effect of seeing something delicate being quickly replaced by an impenetrable aura of strength hit me again. This woman was a complex combination of personality traits sending very mixed signals. As I joined her in the elevator two more thoughts hit me, the fact that I wasn't choked by the cloud of strong perfume that usually accompanied basically all women and the fact that she was in all essentials the living, breathing dream woman of my brother's; cold, businesslike, unsmiling, strictly dressed, hair in a tight knot at the back of her head, absolutely perfect. I made a quick decision to keep my brother away from this project, after all – he had enough female attention as it was.

Studying her discretely I could tell that she – Susan – was a slim, tall woman with a narrow waist, small breasts and lovely long legs. I spent some time thinking about long legs wrapped around different parts of my body and when we stopped at the right floor I took some time to adjust myself as she walked towards her door. Ok, so the problem was getting critical if I couldn't go in an elevator with a woman that wasn't even my type.




Hunger Ch. 01



Another surprise was waiting for me in her apartment. Having subconsciously decided that her home must be like and look like her – cold, strict and probably furnished by a prestigious interior decorator – the warm, colorful and comfortable home I walked into made me wonder once more if there was a warm person hidden somewhere inside of her.

She showed me the two rooms she wanted us to help her with, explained what type of storage she needed and what other changes she wanted done at the same time. I measured, took notes and made a drawing of the planned solution. I had expected her to want some large wardrobe-like storage for clothes, but what she wanted was a large, lockable storage unit with several small compartments and shelfs in it. I had seen the artwork and the small beautiful figurines in the living room and figured it was probably a storage area for some of the things that she wanted to keep extra close and protected.

When I was done with my measurements and notes she showed me out and thanked me for my help. I told her I would come back in a day or two and then walked out the door. With a smile I could hear a distinct bump against the door, as if she'd hit her head in frustration against it. I was sure that the mystery of that particular woman would be an interesting one to solve. Still smiling I started whistling a cheerful tune as I made my way down to my truck, thinking about ways to make her reveal more about herself. I was going to like working for her, that was for sure!



Hunger Ch. 01



"I see we are going to get along just fine." Mora grinned and sat back in her seat, tugging the leash again. Maki took his position once again. Several people began filling the room. The blonde from the cloak room brought over a pair of black boy shorts and handed them to Maki. Her eyes lit on him for a moment and a confused smile lit her face. She turned back to Mora. "It's amusing that you picked this one. He was admiring the stained glass in the atrium. And Gunnar had his eye on him." 

"Gunnar usually has excellent taste. I suppose it's a good thing that this one will be free after tonight, in that instance. Else wise I might have to hear Gunnar complain at me for the next week." She turned her attention to Maki. Her voice took the clipped tones he was accustomed to. "Dress. Quickly." Maki spared no time and did as he was commanded. He stood, dressed, and resumed his position at the feet of the Mistress. Four men filed in and were chained to the throne with the neck manacles, one of the men being Gunnar. His eyes met Maki's for a moment before Gunnar took position and lifted the throne from the floor. Maki felt a tug on his leash and stood. Three other pets were brought in on leashes, each lead by one of the Dommes that had been working in the red room. Maki glanced over them, making sure to avoid eye contact with the Dommes. 

"Be gentle with that one, Maya." Gunnar spoke softly as he rested one side of the throne against his shoulder. "I have plans for him later."

Maya turned back toward him. "He's Mora's until after the show. You can take it up with her." She winked and turned away, leading Maki out to the floor, the men with the throne containing Mistress Mora following behind. The curtains were drawn on the stage and the performers took their positions. Maki followed along rather blindly, catching a flash of a smile from behind blonde curls. He felt a step out of synch with reality and it was slightly dizzying, but not unpleasant. It was nice being in a submissive role for once where he didn't have to make all the decisions, give all the orders, and was allowed to blunder through behind someone else. Maya tugged on his leash and he took a step toward her, realizing he had fallen behind. He bowed his head apologetically before kneeling at her feet. Her hand smoothed his hair along the back of his head as he knelt on foot and knee, his head bowed and hair falling to the floor, masking his face. He rested his fingertips on the floor, his shape resembling a fallen angel. Maya crouched beside him, running her fingers though his hair. "Just make sure your attention doesn't wane from Mistress Mora tonight. She'll direct you as long as you follow her lead." Maki looked toward her, but caught Gunnar's eye instead. They shared a moment that was held just a moment too long before he snapped his attention back to Maya. She smiled and laughed. "You've got the fever, don't you?" 

A deep bass tone resounded through the club and the lights dimmed. Maya stood and struck a pose, just as the other Dommes had. Maki noted the other subs were bowed on all fours, foreheads touching the floor, yet he held his pose. He would either be punished or he wouldn't, but as the curtains opened, every muscle tensed and he waited for even the slightest movement of his leash. Maya's boot stepped directly in front of him, her stiletto heel dangerously close to his hand. She rested her leg against his bowed head. He froze as lights scanned the stage, blissfully missing him. He listened intently and the clank of chains told him the Mistress was making her entrance. A tug on his leash and he stood, following Maya toward the now resting throne. Mistress Mora's hand was outstretched and the moment Maya placed the end of Maki's leash in her hand, she pulled so very gently, drawing him toward her. He met her eyes, sensing a very subtle cue and climbed onto the platform supporting Mistress Mora's seat. She gave a gesture with her off hand and Maki bowed his head, kneeling in the same position he had held at center stage, only this time his eyes were focused on the scene before him. Maya was bringing a rather large man up from the audience. His shirt was removed and he was manacled using hanging shackles. A rather buxom redhead entered the scene with a cat-o-nine, running the lashes of the whip through her hand lovingly. With one hand at each end, she tugged, causing a very faint snap. Maki could swear he smelled the leather stretching, groaning, begging for use. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. 

The first lash of the whip was light, teasing, as the woman spoke. Maki could see her red lips moving, but he was unable to make out what was being said. She struck again, the whip making an audible noise this time, sending a shiver across Maki's shoulders. He tensed slightly as he heard the sing of the leather against the resistant air, the smart sound as it experienced flesh. He could almost feel the bite of the leather against his skin. Again the scarlet lips moved and she rubbed the handle of the whip like a familiar lover. Maki sucked in a breath as she unleashed a series of lashes, one right after another; each lash slightly harder than the first until he could hear the whip crying in lust with each touch of leather on skin. He shuddered, realizing he would have given nearly anything to be under her attention, nerves screaming and then going comfortably numb just as another strike touched the already tender flesh. He felt a shift on his leash and looked up. Mistress Mora was smiling down at him. She drew in the length of his leash hand over hand. He followed, closing the distance between them. She patted the section of seat open by her hip. Maki folded his arms on the spot she acknowledged and rested his chin on his arms, looking up at her. She closed her eyes and sighed, her bosom heaving. She slipped one finger through the bondage ring on his collar and pulled until he rose. She brought his face in toward hers until their noses touched. Her voice was rough and firm in her one word order. 

"Sit."

Maki nodded, finally catching on and sat. He then draped his body along hers, resting his head in her lap. Mistress Mora reached a hand down and ran her hand along his hair, running it through her fingers. He nuzzled against her and turned his attention again to the center of the stage. Maya was releasing the first participant and wiping down the manacles to prepare for the next willing victim being ushered toward the stage. The buxom redhead ordered her now welted guest off of her stage and exited the stage. She exchanged a few words with a tall, short haired blonde who now entered. She selected a paddle from a wall containing many different toys Maki would have loved to experiment with and stalked to center stage. A table was wheeled on stage and the participant was strapped down. Maki wriggled in closer to Mistress Mora. While he wasn't a fan of being paddled, he loved watching it done. The blonde ran her hand across the surface of the paddle, caressing it. She ran her fingers gently over each of the raised pyramid surfaces that lined the back side, tracing their shape as she waited for all restraints to be tested. As soon as her assistants had stepped back, she swung the paddle back and the flat side landed against her sub's backside with a crack that sent a jolt of sick pleasure through Maki's gut. He bit his lip as she swung again with the same strength, this time causing her sub to cry out. She turned the paddle before her next stroke. As the points made contact with the young man's flesh, Maki twitched. He closed his eyes and began metered breathing, resisting the beginning of erection. Perhaps it was good he wasn't one of the people he was currently envying, although he longed to feel the wood table crushing his erection with each strike of the paddle against his ass. He flinched. Thoughts like that were going to get him in trouble and that was somewhere he was planning on avoiding if at all possible. 

Pressure on the underside of his chin brought his attention to Mistress Mora. She raised his chin so he would have to look at her. She drew his face in toward her, her nose touching his again, the same low, harsh voice met his ears. "What is your poison of choice, Pet? Whips? Paddles?"

"Had I time, my Mistress, I would have gladly brought you my favorite method of punishment."

Mistress Mora's eyes met his. "And what is that?"

"A design of an old Mistress, Mistress. She made her own toys, Mistress, and when she was unable to punish me with those readily available, she created something to actually hurt me."

"Go on." Mistress Mora purred.

"She modified the cat-o-nine. Along with braided leather flails, she included lengths of chain. When I have been particularly wicked, she would use this on me, my Mistress."

"You prefer whipping. Would it please you if Mistress whipped you, Pet?"

"I exist only to please Mistress."

Mora moaned. "Watch the rest of the show, Pet. You will be my finale." She pushed his head back into her lap, positioning him so his cheek rested against her thigh. Her strong scent met Maki's nose, causing his erection to stir once again. He nuzzled against her, raising his head so his nose rested against her panties and turned his eyes to stage center for the third demonstration. One of Mora's Pets was taken to center stage were Maya waited. A set was brought out to her that resembled an electric chair and an executioners table. The Pet was secured into the seat and Maya fidgeted with several items Maki couldn't see on the table. She selected one and lifted it, revealing a needle and syringe. The Pet turned back and their eyes met. Maki's blood chilled and he flashed a suddenly very serious look at Mistress Mora. She smiled a nearly motherly smile at him and petted his head soothingly. Unlike the previous times she spoke, her voice was softer as she purred an explanation. "Gunnar will be fine. He has done this several times before." She seemed confident and Maki really had no say in the matter. He sighed and buried his face in her warm and now wet panties and breathed deeply, trying to settle the unrest that gnawed at him. He ran his tongue along the black silk very slowly. Mora's hand snaked under his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. Maki purred and wriggled his nose under the elastic band of Mora's panties. Her wetness greeted him, his tongue eagerly gliding along her warm pink flesh. Mora shifted to allow him easier access without being completely obvious and Maki was prepared to take full advantage of the situation. Keeping his eyes focused on Gunnar, He slipped one finger inside Mora's pussy, making sure to keep his hand resting on her thigh. His finger slipped smoothly in and out. Maki nuzzled again, his hair falling over his hand so he could finger his Mistress without anyone in the audience knowing. He pushed his finger inside Mora's hot tight pussy and wiggled it playfully. She rubbed the back of his neck again in compliance, giving Maki a spiral of excitement that fired through his veins. He was able to touch the forbidden fruit and he was doing it in front of a crowd of complete strangers. He turned his hand so his thumb could stroke Mora's clit as he plunged his finger deep within her. 

If he could have only licked her clit with his tongue as he fingered her! Her scent was intoxicating as more of her fluids leaked down over his hand. She was so wet and he wanted to taste her so badly. He bit his lip and enjoyed both the freedom and denial that his Mistress was giving him and turned back to the eye candy before him.  

Maya gestured to two other women who stepped forward and knelt beside the chair Gunnar was strapped into. Maya sat on Gunnar's knee and rubbed an alcohol pad across her scalpel and then his flesh. She made a small cut first on his left shoulder, then his right. The two women slinked forward and ran their tongues along the cut, then closed their mouths around the wound and sucked gently. Gunnar seemed completely enraptured as the women suckled. Maya prepared the syringe by rubbing it down with alcohol pads. She had already tied Gunnar's arm with one of the elastic bands phlebotomists used when they drew blood. She inserted the needle, released the band, and drew a small amount of blood. She then pressed cotton over the needle before removing it, just as a nurse would do. Maki was intrigued, turned on, and sickened all at the same time. He watched as Maya opened the syringe and poured the blood into two silver fluted glasses that sat to the side of the table. The two women had moved from the cuts on Gunnar's shoulders and were now dragging sharpened finger armor along his chest. One of the women pressed the silver tip against Gunnar's chest and made a small cut. Maki watched the blood well. A warm wet tongue touched the crimson bead and it spread across the surface. She licked ever so tenderly at the nick in Gunnar's flesh, removing any trace of blood. Maki's eyes drifted to Gunnar's face. He seemed to be in a state of ecstasy. His head was leaned back against the chair and lolled slightly off to one side, his eyes closed, his lips parted just slightly. Maki could remember how soft those lips felt. He longed to run his tongue along that small gap between his lips and feel Gunnar's mouth open in readiness, accepting with the same electric hunger as before. Maki wanted to kneel before him and taste the trickle of carnal bliss that seeped down his chest unnoticed blazing a scarlet trail in its wake. His mouth watered for the metallic tang on the tip of his tongue and he wetted his lips in anticipation. 

Maki jumped as Mora's hand closed over his now painfully hard erection. He realized he had been breathing rather heavily against her thigh and closed his eyes, awaiting Mistress's next movement. She hadn't specifically ordered him to not be aroused. Although his flesh begged to be whipped, he would have preferred she allow him to capture the sweet droplet that looked to be lost as it sat on Gunnar's heaving chest. Mora shifted under him and her breath brushed his ear like the whisper of butterfly wings as she rubbed the tip of his member with her fingertips. "It's your turn to perform, Pet." Maki grudgingly retrieved his fingers and righted his Mistress's panties before she planted one hand on his lower back and pushed him to the floor. She stood, tugging his leash and he followed her from the throne platform to the manacles from the first attraction. Unable to contain himself, he slipped his finger into his mouth, sampling his Mistress's nectar. She was as delicious to taste as she was to smell and to touch. He had never felt like such a dirty little slut in his life and could feel the eyes of the crowd on him as Maya took his hands and fastened the manacles around his wrist. 

"Too tight?" she whispered, her eyes darting from his eyes to his groin. Maki's throat was almost too tight to speak. 

"No, too loose."

Maya's fingers crept into Maki's boyshorts and touched him gingerly. "Wrap your hands around the chains and don't let go." He nodded and tried hard to swallow. "Are you nervous?" Maki smiled. 

"No. That last staging left me a bit.." His eyes flashed down. He smirked and quirked a brow at Maya. She bit her lip and grinned up at him. 

"I just wish I could have gotten some straight from the tap." Mora's hand snaked around Maya's shoulder. 

"Are we ready?" Mora's voice was hoarse. Apparently Maki wasn't the only one affected, although he really didn't need any more proof than he had already tasted. 

"Always for you, my Mistress." Mora flashed a big grin and brandished the whip she held in her hand. It had several strips of leather much like a scourge, but interspersed with them was a thin white plastic. Maki's eyes lit up and he looked to Mora with an excited expression. 

"You know what this is, Pet? This," Mora fingered a piece of the white plastic filament, "is the same thing they usen trimmers." Her voice took was like acid. "It stings like a bitch." Her eyes took on a gleam of a woman who was completely in love with pain and Maki shivered in excitement. 

"Please punish me, my Mistress." Maki begged like a spoiled child craving candy. "I have been so terribly wicked." He wrapped his hands around the chains of his restraints and pulled. "Beat me harshly, Mistress." His voice dropped to a guttural whisper. "Make me bleed." 

Mora growled and dug her nails into Maki's neck, then turned on her heel and took her position. Maki could hear the cording cutting the air and waited with anticipation for the first fluid sting, his dick throbbing and tight inside his boyshorts. He could hear the whip hit for several seconds before the pain set in. His eyes teared from the wicked sting as each cord tip made contact with his skin. His body had just begun to react to the pain when he heard the second lash against his flesh. He was shocked that she didn't even allow him any time for adjustment before she was lashing him again. Four, five, six lashes- his eyes full of tears, his lip bleeding from where he had bitten into it out of agony and ecstasy. His back felt as though she had lit it aflame and he quivered, pulling hard against the restraints. He was praying for even a swift respite from the onslaught Mistress had bestowed upon him. He had begged punishment and it appeared he would be receiving it in spades. A light touch against his back caused him to jump and cry out. He glanced over his shoulder to see Maya, her tongue running the length of each of the welts lacing his back. Mora was masturbating her whip with the eagerness of a new school teacher. A second tongue lapped across his scalding flesh, a third, then a fourth. Maya's voice came quickly in his ear. If you have had enough, Mora doesn't take vocal cues. Once you have had enough, you are to snap the chains. There is enough give in them that you can easily jerk them." She bit his shoulder playfully and was gone. His flesh was tingling and burning, but was beginning the blissful numb. Maki wished he could reach his dick. He would have loved to touch himself as she whipped him. 

His breath caught in his throat as pain seared his back. Mora was ruthless in her punishment and Maki loved every minute of it. He moaned against his better judgment as she lashed him again and again, each strike gaining in intensity until the sensation was more likened to broken glass being rubbed into his flesh. He lost count of the lashes in his exquisite torture. He sagged against the restraints, the metal cuffs chewing into the delicate flesh of his wrists. 

"Have you had enough?" Mora's voice rang in his head. She was shouting so those in attendance could hear. He laughed out loud. 

"My Mistress, I have been so terribly wicked. Please, Mistress, I have not suffered enough for you. Beat me until I have paid for my crime against you."

Mora grabbed his arm and turned him to face the assembled crowd. Her hand enveloped his cock through the thick fabric of his shorts. "You ARE a wicked boy!" She massaged his cock roughly. "What a dirty little SLUT!" 

"Yes, Mistress." 

"Don't you DARE cum, you fucking cunt. Do you understand me, bitch?"

"Yes, Mistress." 

"Gunnar, come." Mora looped a finger through the bondage ring on Gunnar's collar. "I want you to make sure this filthy whore takes his punishment and I want you to make sure he doesn't disobey Mistress. If he even twitches, you will notify me IMMEDIATELY." Mora turned Maki's back toward the audience again. 

"Yes, Mistress Mora." 

Cool tongues across his flesh were nearly more than he could handle. It was like a cold drink on a ninety degree summer day. His cock throbbed, wanting so badly to be touched or even better licked and sucked by one of the mouths that greedily trailed his flesh. He gasped as he felt fingernails clawing into the painful welts striping his flesh. He took the weight from his wrists and stood upright again. Fingers slipped into the waistband of his shorts, exposing his bare backside. He tensed instinctively, awaiting the paddle. 




Hunger Ch. 01



Gunnar stood in front of Maki, his eyes dancing. "You are one tough son of a bitch, you know that?" Maya slipped in front of Gunnar and knelt in front of Maki. She flicked the tip of her tongue across the head of his cock. His eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth gaped. "He's not going to take too much of that My." She grinned a wicked grin. 

"She just said he couldn't cum. She didn't say ANYTHING about orgasm." Her hand slipped inside his shorts and cupped his balls and rested the head of his cock against her lips. "I love shaved men." 

The feeling of her breath and the movement of her lips was nearly enough to make him cum. He swallowed and breathed deeply. "I don't know how much more I can take." 

"You've GOT to give me at least one good one before you stop her, Maki." Maya looked up at Gunnar. "Besides, Gunnar has dibs on you, remember?" She grinned mischievously. Maki jumped. Mora wasn't using a paddle, it was definitely a crop. Maya popped Maki's dick into her mouth as the next lash contacted the soft flesh of his ass cheek. 

Maki's eyes rolled back in his head. Her mouth was soft and wet and cool as compared to his sweat drenched skin. Her hand fondled his balls as she sucked on his cock making a soft humming noise as her lips slipped over the shaft. She let her teeth graze the ridge of the head, never allowing it outside of the sweet release of her mouth. Each time her tongue reached the head, she would swirl it over the tip, her tongue ring catching lightly in the slit. Coupled with the sting of the crop as it bit into his stinging skin, it was difficult to maintain consciousness, let alone coherent thought to stop himself before he managed to cum. Maya's grip tightened on his balls no longer rolling them gently in the palm of her hand, but instead massaging them. She kept the same rhythm but slowed her pace. Maki looked up to Gunnar in time to catch him signaling Mora. He blinked hard. 

The whip. He heard it before it hit, this time clipping the backs of his legs. Maki stiffened, sensing the pain that would follow. The next strike was across his shoulders. Maki cried out, pulling on the chains. As much as this hurt, it sent a spike of arousal through his entire body. He prayed Mora wouldn't stop until he had peaked. Again the whip bit into his tortured flesh followed by a burst of desire. He watched Maya's mouth as it glided across his dick, feeling the pressure building. "Don't stop." He whispered. "Neither of you." Mora began her fevered pitch, one lash following on the heels of the next. Maki could feel the blood running like small rivers down his back, his orgasm building. His breath was coming in rasping labored pants as he clamped his jaws shut to keep from begging to cum. He wanted to cover Maya's beautiful tits with his pearly white cum and rub it in with his face as he fingered her. As if on cue, Maya's pace and suction increased and she maintained a firm grip on his balls. 

"I'm cumming." Maki wasn't even sure he was intelligible. Maya wrapped her fingers around the shaft just under the head and applied gentle pressure, her tongue lapping at the tip of Maki's dick until he had finished. She grinned up at him as he snapped the chains. Mora called for him to be released. He felt several hands releasing the manacles and helping him back to the throne. Mora welcomed him, one arm outspread, the other holding one of the silver glasses. Maki collapsed against her in the position he had taken to watch the show, his body completely spent. Mora smoothed a hand over Maki's head as she raised her glass in a toast and then drank. 

"Good evening, dear guests. Please enjoy the rest of your evening!" 

The music dropped off, the lights dimmed, and the curtains closed. 



Hunger Ch. 02



Swallowing his load that is redolent of bleach and egg whites, I turn and slowly crawl back up the length of his body leaving a trail of wet kisses in my wake. My tongue darts at a nipple and I laugh when he twists away from the sensation, signaling that his nerves remain overloaded, frazzled by the electric charge that has just ripped through him. I lay where I started, with my pouty lips against his ear and rise up to give him a salty kiss.

"Feel better?" I purr. "Did you like that?"

"Yes" he replies, tucking his chin to his chest as he tries to block me from kissing his neck again. He is so ticklish and sensitive. "Stop it" he cries and with a sudden twist he rolls over and pins my arms to the bed.

"You are such a girl." I laugh at him as I try to raise my mouth to his. "C'mon, kiss me."

Bestowing a disappointing peck, he lets me go, swings his legs over the side of the bed and looks at the clock. He stares and watches until the red numbers change. It is 8:15 on Saturday morning and he turns to look at me. Running a hand through my hair he makes a face.

"I have to be at the airport in less than two hours." he says.

"Hope you're all packed Jack." I respond. "I don't envy you at all. How long will this flight be?"

"It's Tokyo. Fourteen fucking hours each way for a twenty-four hour visit." he replies bleakly as he stands up and walks to the bathroom. 

I watch him stride away and stare at his body, watching his him glide, muscles tensing with each step. His deeply dimpled ass does not jiggle at all. He is a hard-bodied man. I lay on my back and let my fingers drift down to where my legs meet and feel the warm humidity that continues to escape from my body. I draw a finger up my slit and notice that I am drying out. I press my finger on my softened clit, trying to find where it has crept to and feel it back in its hood, resting and recovering below the soft curls that I twist as I see him close the bathroom door behind him.

Knowing I will be alone now for a several minutes, I close my eyes and bring my other hand to my mouth, lick my fingers and reach down for a nipple. I tease one of my dark brown buds, and feel the little bumps of my aureole rise like flowers to the sun as I barely touch them with the liquid on my fingertips. A quiver of warmth runs down from my chest to my pubis as I feel the blood rush back to where it is needed. My little shaft wakens and begins to grow as I to graze my nipple with my fingernail. I open my legs and reach to fondle the inside of my thighs, stroking myself from just above my knee to just where my labia announces the entrance to my lust. With a feather's touch, I run a finger along the outside of my lips. First one side and then the other, I am teasing myself and not giving it to the desire to either dip my fingers into my well or to rub my little root that is straining for attention. I look down and see it, a pink staff protruding from the short dark forest that drapes my mound.

I close my eyes and think of them; the two men who always come to satisfy me. They are there when I touch myself. They are there when I suck his cock or when I fuck him. They are there beside me when he licks me. I think of them when I go to sleep and sometimes when I wake. I am obsessed with them yet I don't know what they look like. I never see their faces, only their bodies or their cocks, or their asses. And they do anything I want them to. If I am alone, they are in my mouth and my pussy when I stroke myself. If I am with him, they can be watching or one can be in my mouth while he fucks me. They fill my holes, they never complain, they aren't selfish. They are there just for me.

I am wet again and I bring the soles of my feet up to my crotch as I try to spread my sodden hole wider. I run two fingers down the sides of my pussy, transferring my slickness from inside my vagina to the puffy lips that surround my hole. The wisps of hair that dot the lips are matted with my moisture and I can feel it drip down to my asshole. I take an oiled digit and slide it from my puckered anus back to the bottom of my open cavern. Down, up, in, out, repeat. My hand is awash in my fluid and my pussy feels soft and squishy. It is begging to be filled. I jam two fingers inside myself and twirl a thumb around my slippery clit. I open my mouth and in my mind I strain to get one of their cocks deep down my throat while the other takes a nipple into his mouth. I push my hand deeper and grind the heel of it into my pubic bone, crushing my clit in an attempt to elicit further pleasure.

I have my rhythm. One hand trails a finger up and down my perineum. One hand is thrust against me, anchored by two fingers hooked inside my valley. My hips work to meet the pressure of my hand as I rock my wrist back and forth. My head is back and my mouth is open and I feel myself gasp for air, my breasts heave and my nipples ache to be pinched but I can't stop myself from urging forward the tightening sensation I sense in my womb. I rub furiously; sprinting to a sloppy finish and feel my walls begin to clamp down on the digits that are plumbing my depths. I imagine a prick, long and thick, stabbing me, thrusting so far up my cunt that I feel it in my throat almost touching the head of the other cock that has been rammed in my mouth and that is sliding in and out of my maw. I see myself spitted on the enormous rotisserie prongs of my two faceless lovers. And I cum in an enormous spasm of delight that makes my body shake as I drench the sheets beneath me in a rank pool of moisture that feels like it had been drawn from every orifice.

Exhausted, sated, spent, used up, the terms fill my mind as I lay with my eyes clamped shut and, as I rejoin the living, sense the images of my 'lovers' fade into the recesses of my head where they will remain until I need them again.

"Wow." I hear from across the room. I open my eyes to see him standing naked with his towel flung over his shoulder and his cock held loosely in his fist.

I have often masturbated for him and am not embarrassed by his utterance or the fact that he must have stood watching me for several minutes as I worked myself into a frenzy of self-induced passion.

"Too bad for you." I tease. "You have to leave soon. And you just took a shower. Put that thing away and get ready." I know there is no way he could recycle that fast anyway. It is mere wishful thinking on his part.

Acknowledging the truth and wisdom of my statement he starts to get dressed pulling a pair of dark blue briefs up past his thighs to his waist. He wriggles his hips and grabs his balls like a baseball player at home plate adjusting his package before a pitch to ensure comfort and unfettered movement.

"So," he says while sitting down to put on the track pants that he always wears on long flights, "What can I bring you back from Tokyo?"

Sensing that this will be the best opportunity I have to up bring the controversial topic I try to add a touch of humor to my voice and say, "How about a nice Japanese dong to play with us?"

His eyes flash darkly and I realize it was a mistake.

"Just kidding." I say holding my hands up in surrender. 

"Why can't you just drop it?" he demands. "How many times do I have to say that I have no interest?"

"I know, I'm sorry." I sigh. "You know, it's a big fantasy of mine. I just keep thinking about it."

"They are called fantasies for a reason." he says softly.

And, with that, he pulls on his sweatshirt, picks up his bag and goes for the door.

"I think I'm going to leave a little early." he says. "Make sure I get there on time and maybe get a little something to eat."

I know he is leaving to avoid further conversation but I don't stop him.

"Sure." I nod. "Sounds like a good idea."

We hug at the door and give each other a deep kiss.

"Have a safe flight." I say.

"Thanks babe." he replies. "I'll call you later."

He walks out the door and I shut it quietly behind him, turn the locks and then go back and collapse on the bed and think about the weekend ahead.



Hunger Ch. 02



After spending an evening packing things up, moving furniture and generally preparing for the building project, I was already beginning to regret my decision to hire someone to help me rebuild and redecorate. As I put all of the boxes with my beautiful things in one of the spare rooms and myself in the other one, it made me feel as if the world had stopped spinning and started doing somersaults instead. This slight change in my living arrangements was enough to unbalance me, it seemed. 

At home, where I was usually happy and calm, I now felt nervous and shaky. When I tried to sit down and get comfortable I could only sit for a short while before having to stand up and walk around. It reminded me of the nervous behavior of some animal I'd seen on one of the nature channels.

That meant that being at work now actually became the relaxing part of the day, because there I could concentrate fully on the things I was working on. During the day, my head was constantly filled with today's meetings, tomorrow's deals and next week's potential businesses so I just didn't have time to worry about my private life. 

Two days after meeting at my apartment Ben called to let me know that he was going to start working that afternoon. I went home to show him in and give him a key so he could come and go as he needed and let the electrician and painter in as well. One look at him in his dark work outfit made me realize two things; he was much more strongly built than I had first thought, and I obviously had a thing for working class men, tool-belt and all. Still not liking the cliché I had become, I decided to stay away from home whenever he was supposed to be there; or at least try to stay away, since he couldn't tell me the exact hours he would be working.

A couple of nights of restless sleep and days of working from sunup to sundown later, I was starting to feel drained, tired to the bone. I was absolutely decided not to go home when there was a chance that Ben or anyone else was there, but Ben had sent me a text some hours before telling me that he probably wouldn't be able to make it to my apartment that day, there was something about a water pipe bursting at some construction site.

The thought of having the place all to myself made me hurry home, intent on having a long bath and then slacking with a good book. As I walked out of the office I realized that I'd actually managed to go home at what used to be my regular time, which still was a at least one hour later than most of my coworkers. I headed for the elevator and reached it just as it said "ping"; obviously I wasn't the only person working late that evening.

A man I hadn't seen before was standing in the elevator. He was looking at his watch, frowning slightly, but as he looked up his face seemed to light up by the wide smile he gave me. I hesitated but then walked in; my home and my bath were after all calling out for me. Although the smiling man was quite attractive and there was something about him that made me think I might have met him before, I turned my back on him and pushed the button heading for the ground floor.

I didn't hear him as he approached me, but microseconds before he slid his body against mine, I could feel tiny bolts of lightning run across my skin; and then just half a breath later the front of his hard body was pressed in its entirety against the back of mine. The feelings that instantly spread through my body weren't of shock, fear or outrage but of deepest satisfaction and absolute want. In a situation where I had always thought I would react with anger or panic, I stood frozen, thoughts and actions hindered not by fear but by the delicious warmth of pleasure running through my body.

Before being able to think, speak or take any action against his nearness, be it unwanted or not, he started whispering soft, unfamiliar words in my ear. His warm breath tickled my skin, sending rivulets of liquid heat down my neck and back, adding to my confusion.

"Sasha," he whispered with soft words "you are absolutely perfect! That outfit you're wearing is exactly what I had in mind, so strict and cold."

With a soft groan he started kissing my neck, slowly searching for and finding a special spot of concentrated pleasure I hadn't known could be found in such an easily accessible place. His hands started caressing my arms, pressing me closer and between kisses continued his whispers.

"That cold, hard surface hides all of your fire. I'm the only one that knows the real you; that you're made of laughter, passion and pleasure; that you're burning inside, waiting for me to set you off, shooting for the stars."

With a slow tug he pulled my gray silk blouse out of the color matched skirt and slid one hand underneath, my skin burning for his touch. As he started running his warm, rough hand down the front and side of my stomach, still pressing me close, I could feel his erection pushed against my tense butt. His words and his body were telling me something I hadn't been told, or possibly hadn't been able to hear and understand, before. In the beautiful language of passion and arousal I was being informed that I was a warm, living, lovable creature and that he wanted me with all the sexual power within him.

I let out a silent groan as my body started moving with his in a sensual dance, pressing and rubbing in surprisingly natural movements of pleasure. I felt a hard, urgent heat surging through my core and I whimpered, obviously loud enough for him to hear. His answering groaned "Sasha" and the way he started licking, sucking and kissing that delightful spot on my neck again made me cry out "ohh" in a long, soft whisper. His warm, rough hand found his way to my small, eager breast, caressing me with gentle strokes, closing in on my small, puckered nipple.

"Absolutely perfect," he breathed into my ear "small, perfectly shaped and just crying out to be touched, licked and pleasured..."

I was stuck in the whirlwind of my own passionate response, not a thought of the indecency of our almost public activities. As his one hand found its way inside my bra and began circling and flicking my nipple, his other hand caressed its way down my body reaching for my skirt and starting to pull it slowly upwards.

His whispered "I wonder if I can find any more hidden treasures" did nothing to break through my hazy thoughts, nor did his hand caressing its way up my naked thigh, but as his steady hand cupped me and I felt his warm fingers against my warm, wet lips some of the heady desire lifted. In one last attempt at a warning my body signaled "stranger touching taboo parts of body" and some of my sanity returned. 

I'm not sure how I managed to untangle myself from his arms but with an agonized "Noo" I pulled away and pressed my back against the elevator door just as it opened with a "ping". Almost falling I fought to right myself before turning and running away from him. His surprised "Sasha, what?" followed me out into the lobby, where I was stopped by the doors, locked at this time of the day.

"Sasha, wait," he called as his quick steps came closer "what's wrong?"

Not successful in my desperate attempt to unlock the door and get away, I heard him closing in and turned to put my back against the door, fear finally finding its way back into my life. Hand held out towards him begging him not to step closer I fought to calm my now panicked breaths.

"Sasha, please tell me what's wrong," he pleaded "wasn't this what you wanted?"

"I'm not Sasha," I managed to squeeze out between my white, trembling lips "my name is Susan."

"What, wait, what, I don't get it, you're not, you're not Sasha?" he stuttered.

I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut around the tears I could feel were gathering in them.

"I don't understand? I'm in the right building; it's the right day, the right time," he mumbled "and you look absolutely perfect."

I looked up in time to see him stare at me with doubt in his eyes, as if to say "are you sure you're not Sasha?"

All of the tension in my body broke in a wave of sadness and I started crying, realizing in that moment of absolute clarity that this was someone's idea of a joke on my behalf. I guess it wouldn't have been that much of a problem setting it up for someone who knew how regular my work schedule usually was. I just didn't know that there was someone that hated me that much, to want to cause me anything from embarrassment to potentially getting seriously hurt.

I felt him step closer, hesitating a short moment before he pulled me into his strong arms again, this time set on soothing and comforting me. The fear had been washed away by my sadness, and I accepted his kindness as I had accepted his passion such a short time ago.

With a soothing voice he started telling me that he had met Sasha online a couple of weeks ago, that they had sent each other messages almost daily, that she had described her person, her lifestyle and her clothes in a way that made me realize why he thought I was her. 

"I'm so, so sorry! I should have asked you if you were Sasha," he said with his mouth pressed to my hair "then we wouldn't be in this mess! I'm sorry I pushed myself on you, that I scared you and that I made you cry! It was supposed to be a game between me and a woman who was quite determined to be seduced in an elevator..."

His words stopped pouring out of him and I could almost hear the thoughts whirling in his mind. Even if the joke was supposed to be on me, he'd also been tricked and lied to.

"I'm sorry," I said to him, my voice low and troubled "I think someone at work must have done this to the both of us. I just don't know why anyone would go to this much trouble to either have a laugh at my expense or to hurt me."

He shook his head and pulled me closer. The way he held me and rubbed a warm hand across my back felt wonderful. I imagined it was the way a mother or father would sooth a sad child in need of comfort. Troubled thoughts of my upbringing, severely lacking in human warmth, started making their way up to the surface, but I pushed them back with great effort and then tried to separate myself from his warm embrace.

"I am sorry, you know" he said, relaxing his arms and stepping away "and angry, if this was done intentionally to hurt you."

"I'll be fine," I told him, pulling myself together "I just want to go home."

"I can drive you anywhere you want to go," he said, perhaps not thinking the thought all the way through. He seemed to realize kind of quickly that I probably wouldn't want him to know where I lived as he added "or I could call you a cab?"

I nodded and we walked out the door that I'd finally been able to unlock. 

"My name is Jerry, by the way" he told me with half a smile. He reached into his pocket and hesitantly handed me a business card. "Please contact me if you need my help to track down the person responsible for all of this. Or perhaps if you want to get together for dinner sometime?"

I shook my head at his suggestion and he shrugged before walking away to find me a cab. Not many minutes later I was sitting in a car, finally heading for home.

My apartment was feeling cold and lonely as I entered it, still wary and even more tired than before. With heavy steps I dragged myself into the bathroom and started filling the tub. I then sat down on the floor, leaning my head against my knees, trying to sort through my confused thoughts but failing. It was just too much to take in, so I sat there, head spinning, eyes dry but body, heart and soul aching in profound sadness. Being alone was one thing, feeling lonely was another and at that point I felt lonelier than I ever had.

After another bath that didn't calm me and a salad that didn't taste anything I went to bed, hungry for food as well as for companionship and perhaps love.

- - - - - 

It felt like I had slept mere minutes when my alarm signaled that it was time to wake up. I slowly got ready and went to work, my steps still heavy and my soul grieving, not because of someone or something I'd lost, but because of something I'd never had. 

I didn't feel my usual dedication and absorption at work that day, and thankfully I didn't need to make any big decisions or meet too many people. Half a day passed by with paper work and administration occupying most of it. I spent the lunch hour in my room eating a granola bar and rechecking numbers but was interrupted by a commotion outside my room. I opened the door in time to see an angry man being escorted from the premises. As he saw me he started yelling that I was a worthless, cold bitch and that he wished I would burn in hell. I recognized him as the man I had reported to Management some weeks before, the man that used all hours of the workday to emphasize his own excellence and stealing the credit for other people's work.

The angry man managed to sidestep the two burly security guards and ran up to me, arms waving wildly. Too shocked and stunned by his anger I didn't manage to avoid the heavy slap he aimed my way and when his hand hit the left side of my face hard I fell backwards landing heavily on the floor, biting my tongue in the process. The kick he aimed my way was blocked by one of the guards, as the other one managed to control the still waving hands. With quick, precise movements the guards then managed to take the man away and I was left there sitting, still stunned, my face throbbing with pain.

Two women that I didn't know the names of helped me up and one of them whispered "thank you for getting rid of him". I knew that most of the persons that had been mistreated by the man were women, and through the pain I felt happy that I had been able to help them.

I walked unsteadily into my room, helped by the two women. I could tell by their frowns that they were worried about me and as I walked I tried to catalogue my injuries. My cheek felt painful and strangely numb at same time, my tongue was bleeding, my butt felt black and blue, and I had pulled a muscle in my back.

"I think you should go see a doctor!" the woman that had thanked me said, when I sat down slowly, trying to navigate around the pain in my body.

"Or at least go home and get some rest," the other woman said "let me call you a cab, please."

I thankfully accepted her offer, packed some important papers and walked out of the office, hours before I usually did. Things really had been going from bad to worse lately I thought to myself as I stood waiting for the cab to arrive. The cab driver's stares made me realize that I looked as bad as I felt and I didn't say many words to him except to ask him to get me home as quickly as he could. 

I limped into my apartment and threw my bag and jacket in a pile by the door. After painfully extracting myself from my strict office clothes and putting on a pair of comfortable jazz pants and my favorite t-shirt, I sank down in one of the armchairs in my living room, absolutely exhausted. Before being able to summon the strength to fetch some painkillers I felt my head grow heavy and I fell asleep curled up in one corner of the big chair.

* * * * *

At first I didn't realize that she was at home, not being able to see or hear her, but as I started carrying my tools into the living room, I saw something out of the corner of my eye, that didn't really fit in. I turned around and saw her sitting there fast asleep in one of those large, comfortable armchairs she owned, feet pulled up, hair freed from its usual constraints. She looked so soft, young and adorable curled up in that chair. Reading the printed text on her colorful t-shirt, I almost laughed aloud. "I rock... in my birthday suit when I'm home alone" it read. Somehow I didn't think that text was quite accurate.

I fetched a blanket that was hanging on the other armchair and started to gently cover her with it when she suddenly twitched in her sleep, and the hair that had been covering her face was pulled away. The shock of seeing her swollen and bruised face made my lungs temporarily unable to function properly. All oxygen left me in one great puff of air and when I tried to breathe in again, all I could do was take small, ineffective mouthfuls that didn't seem enough to let my body and my head function properly, at least not at the same time.

Before I had the chance to step away and collect my thoughts, she stirred and woke up, her body going stiff, as if she was frightened or perhaps in pain. With a groan she put a hand on her face and then looked up and saw me standing there, one hand still holding a corner of the blanket. As sleep cleared from her eyes I could almost see the tiny gears in her head spinning. She didn't seem afraid of me; it was almost as if she was slowly analyzing what she was seeing, absorbing everything before making some kind of decision. She looked at me, my hand, the blanket and finally back at me again. I could tell the exact moment where she realized I had been trying to make her more comfortable by spreading the blanket over her, because her eyes became round in surprise and her lower lip started trembling.

My usual softheartedness, accompanied by a fierce need to protect this obviously mistreated woman, made me fall down on my knees and reach for her hand. 

"What has happened to you," I asked her, voice low and soft "has someone hurt you?"

Silent tears started running down her face and with a wince she nodded.

"Please tell me" I begged her, feeling a useless anger building inside of me and trying to press it down again. She didn't need anger right now, she needed someone to listen to her and comfort her.

"One of my coworkers," she sobbed "got angry because I reported him to Management."

With great effort she tried to pull herself together and continued with a sad and slightly bitter tone in her voice, pointing to her face.

"This was his goodbye gift."

I didn't know what to say, words stuck in the angry storm raging inside of me. There was nothing I hated more than senseless violence against women, children and animals. I wasn't a big believer in retribution, but at that moment my instincts called out for it. Reining myself in, I concentrated on her situation and her needs until I was filled with a calm sense of purpose. I stood up and pulled her out of the chair by the hand that I was still holding. She rose with careful movements and I could tell she was in pain. Obviously it wasn't just her beautiful face that had been hurt, but other parts as well. Anger sent whispers of smoke trying to cloud my judgement, but I held the thought of her comfort firmly in mind, again staving off the need to run off and hunt down the person responsible for her agony.

"You need painkillers first of all and then a long bath" I said with a decisive nod.

She accepted my statement with a slight nod and started shuffling off to her big bathroom; shoulders slouched, leaning slightly to the left, an obvious sign that her back was causing her pain.

Filled with restless energy, but not able to concentrate on building the shelves I'd been planning to start on that day, I moved my tools away from the living room, then folded the blanket up and righted the chair. I sat down in the kitchen area for a short while, wondering if I should leave or stay to make sure she was alright. It wouldn't feel right to leave without saying goodbye, I decided, and after thinking about what I would want if I was feeling sad, I made another quick decision that a batch of my grandmother's comfort food would be just the thing. 

Happy in my decision to help and glad that I had found a good way of keeping busy I looked through her cabinets, fridge and freezer to find something I could use to make her some delicious, Italian, homemade food. She had salad and some canned tuna, but nothing I could use to make any of the hearty meals that I felt were needed, given the situation.




Hunger Ch. 02



Knowing from previous relationships that a woman could take hours in the bathroom, I hurried off, set on buying food and then cooking something that would cheer her up.

* * * * * 

The bath was wonderfully relaxing, warm water easing the pain in my back. I had poured some etheric oils that Rose had given me in the water, the smell of flowers filling my nose, making me relax even more. Relieved that water could once again give me the calming effect I needed I lay back, breathing and resting, unwanted thoughts thankfully banished, if only for a short moment.

I stayed in the tub until the water got cold, then washed my hair and body before stepping out and wrapping myself up in a large towel. I used a smaller towel to wipe the steam off a mirror; it was time to look at the damage. 

The mirror showed me an image of a tired looking woman, wet hair glued to the sides of her face. The right side had its usual pale sheen, somewhat heated by my long bath. The left side was a swollen mess, red splotches spread across it, with the first signs of a large, blueish bruise underneath it all. I could tell that my face would be quite colorful in the days that followed, topped off by a black eye that was now only showing as a slight green bruise.

I shut my eyes against it all and took a deep breath; perhaps it was true that what didn't kill you would only make you stronger.

I put a bathrobe and warm slippers on and walked out into the apartment, using the towel to dry my hair, suddenly stopped by a delicious smell coming from the kitchen. Realizing that I had forgotten all about Ben, I followed the smell and found him there, standing in the kitchen, stirring something that was bubbling happily on the stove. He was making food, for me?

I couldn't stop the "whaaat"-sound that slipped through my lips and he turned around, saw me standing there and waved me over.

"I thought you might want to eat," he said with a smile "so I made some pasta. I couldn't tell by what you had at hand if you were a vegetarian or not, so I made two types of spaghetti and sauce. Did you know that you don't have any proper food at home, by the way?"

I shook my head at his fast, eager words. The smile on his face and the way he was talking almost too fast made me think of a puppy, jumping up and down, trying to get my attention. I didn't want to disappoint him with a sharp "I don't eat pasta"-let down, so I smiled a crooked smile, trying to keep the painful side of my face immobile.

"I'm not a vegetarian," I told him "and the food smells wonderful. Thank you!"

His smile grew wider and he pulled out a chair for me to sit on. I fingered nervously at my robe, thinking that I should probably go and change, but shrugged that thought off and sat down. When he started putting what seemed like extreme amounts of food on a plate for me, I realized I was absolutely starving.

"This is Spaghetti Carbonara," he said with a proud voice "and that's Spaghetti all'Arrabbiata, both from my grandmother's not so secret recipes."

He placed the full plate in front of me and then put even more food on a plate for himself before sitting down on the other side of the table, still smiling that adorably happy smile. I saw him dig into the food with obvious pleasure, using a fork and a spoon to separate the pasta and make tidy but large mouthfuls. 

I looked at him and his technique a couple of seconds longer before using my own fork to try my first taste of Ben-made food. Carbonara was what he had called the deliciously creamy and salty pile of spaghetti on the right side of my plate and Arrabbiata was the spicy tomato twin on the left. Several small bites later I still couldn't decide which one I liked the best, they were both amazing.

I managed to eat almost all of the food, but had to leave some of it, just too full to finish it all off. Realizing that I hadn't looked up from the food or talked to Ben while I had been eating I felt myself blush and turned my head his way. He had finished his food and was sitting there looking at me with a thoughtful smile on his face.

"Thank you, that tasted wonderful," I said with a smile of my own.

"I'm really glad you liked it" he answered and then stood up to clear the table.

I stayed where I was, good food filling my stomach and the fact that someone else was taking care of me filling my heart with happiness. It was surprising how easy it was to go from self-sufficient to relying on someone else, but I guess this could be classed as very special circumstances. 

Any continued thoughts about the strange situation I found myself in were interrupted by a sharp signal from my doorbell. I started walking towards the door, but was stopped by Ben's insistent "I'll get it". 

Ben opened the door and I could hear mumbled conversation and then as they walked further into the apartment, a strangely familiar voice.

"Hello, I'm Jerry Sanderson, Ben's..."

Heavy silence filled the hallway as Jerry stared at me, his mouth open wide, taking in everything from my suspicious outfit to my bruised face. Looking at Jerry standing beside Ben, it was obvious they were brothers. 

"Ben's brother," I finished the sentence "of course."

My head was suddenly spinning wildly and I took one step backwards before the world turned black around me. One hilarious thought followed me into oblivion - "Ben & Jerry, of course".



Hunger Ch. 03



I wake to the humming sound of my phone vibrating on the wooden night stand next to my bed. Groggily, I reach for the offending appliance, resist throwing it against the wall and press the button to accept the unwelcome intrusion to my slumber. It is him.

"Hi." I mumble. "You woke me up."

"Poor baby." he replies in a voice that I know means he is smiling at my expense. "Get up and Carpe Diem kiddo! I mean, it's past noon already. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I'm on the plane and about to take off. I'll let you know when I get there. Now get your ass out of bed."

Without comment, I hang up by pressing the button on my phone and, lying splayed on the bed, raise my eyes to look at the clock. It stares back at me, chiding me like he did as it flashes 12:10 PM.

"Shut up." I tell it. "I'm moving, can't you see?"

12:11 PM.

'Heartless bastard.' I think to myself.

It takes a Herculean effort but I manage to sit up and, with a lurch, actually succeed in standing and stepping naked from the bed. I stretch my arms high and arch my back to loosen my stiff muscles. I twist my head and look at my armpits and notice the slight dark stubble emerging from my pores.

I walk to the bathroom and plop unceremoniously onto the toilet where I lower my head to my knees and, with a sigh, empty my swollen bladder. I don't bother to wipe myself as I quickly step into the large tub that doubles as my shower. I reach over and turn the hot water spigot until I can no longer twist it. I draw the curtains closed and huddle in a corner with my arms wrapped around my body as I wait for the water to warm and for the steam to rise and envelop me. When it does, I adjust the temperature by simultaneously adding some cold water while dialing back the hot so that I can fearlessly stride under the stream that spews from the large round shower staring down at me.

I love my shower. The water pressure is intense but not harsh. Each time I am in there, the liquid comes forth with a strength that instantly awakens no matter the time of day. I stand beneath the waterfall, mesmerized, my face turned up in rapture, my mouth open to drink in the elixir that cleans and invigorates me. I turn and make sure that my back enjoys the penetrating pulse of the driven fluid and feel my hair matted against my back as a torrent runs down my spine, slides between my cheeks and then splashes to the floor.

I sit on the edge of the tub and lather my sponge with soap. Starting with my feet, I quickly cover my legs with suds and rub away the collection of dirt, grime, dead skin and sexual residue that have accumulated overnight. I stand up and move to my face, neck and arms, scrubbing vigorously all around and under, drawing up a new layer of pink flesh to share the day with me.

I save my tummy and privates for last. I am alone. I have nothing I have to do. Maybe I can just relax and savor the moment as the warm water streams around me, over me, down me. I gaze at myself, at my breasts standing out from my chest; twin mounds with alert sentries being deluged by the cascade of water. I take the sponge and wash between the hillocks and watch as the bubbles slide down my abdomen, around my navel and get caught in my pubic hair before being rinsed away down the drain. I gently lift each breast in turn and wash beneath them and then graze my nipples with the soft loofa. I reach up and adjust the stream on the shower head and then lean back as I try to get the narrowed spray to splat against my pussy.

I rub the sponge across my abdomen, trailing it along the contours of my muscled belly and around my narrow hips as the jet of the water hits my pussy lips. I add more soap and work the foam into my bush. I lift a leg, spread a cheek and squat slightly so I can reach down between my thighs and drag the soapy exfoliator from my tailbone to the bottom of my pussy making sure to swab the skin inside my ass and to slide my finger delicately across the puckered eye. I stand straight and attend to my labia, gently scrubbing them as I reach up to a breast and squeeze a nipple in a confused reaction to the sensations that have begun to make me tingle.

'Do I want to or not?' I ponder, now taking several fingers and working the lather into my crevasse. My thoughts drift as I weigh the increasing desire to satisfy myself again with the growing recognition that the day is slipping away. My fingers slide deep inside me and I feel the walls of my cavern, smooth over here, ridged up there. I slip a finger into my anus and reach to try and touch the tips of my fingers to each other though the thin wall of the canal that separates them. I succeed and sense a growing presence. My 'friends' are waking.

With deliberation I pull my fingers out of my holes and grab the soap to wash them clean. Momentarily, I let my practical side win the battle and I determine to finish my bathing sans orgasm.

I turn down the water and reach for a towel to pat dry my legs, underarms and crotch. Sitting on the edge of the tub, I grab the L'Occitane almond shower oil that I use as a lubricant when I shave. I grease my armpits and swiftly slide the razor over the stubble. Next, I apply the slippery emollient to both of my legs and intently focus as I pull the three-bladed shaver along the curves of my calves and up my thighs. My pussy sits open as my legs are spread and twisted to allow me to get the best shaving angles. I feel the steam from the slowly running water rise and bath my lips in warm dew. I feel the blood moving to the area between my legs and shake my head in amazed wonder at how my body is betraying my mind.

Desperately trying to find a renewed sense of fortitude, I squirt some oil onto the savanna of curls that lie above my tunnel and massage the balm around the puffy mound and parted gates. The slick ointment feels luxurious to me and I sigh as I trail a finger around myself to ensure that every hair, whether soft and full grown or short and bristling, has a coat of this magnificent salve. The feeling of silky slickness draws forth a shiver and I see the tip of my clit emerge from its protective shelter.

'Touch me.' it urges. 'Stroke me.' it gasps as it grows and stiffens. 

Promising myself that I won't completely falter, I caress the demanding organ with an oily digit and immediately bend at the waist as the delicious sensation catches me unprepared and courses through me with a jolt.

'Yes.' it cries. 'Again, do it again. Don't stop.' And I sense my helpers creep closer to my consciousness.

I don't want to give in and I press hard on the annoying nub to keep it at bay, immediately dissipating the nascent apparitions in my head.

I grab the razor again and gently abrade my lips, slicing away every hint of fur that I can see or feel with my fingers from the valley where my legs meet my cunt right to the edge of my clit. I regard myself and begin to think about how it looks, my partly bare pussy. The air feels closer than it ever has before and I like the sensation. I blow down on myself and continue scraping with the razor, mowing the area so that I am left with a two inch swath of dark tresses sitting above a bald mound of pouty flesh.

Excited by my new look, I quickly rinse away any remaining oil and suds, step out of the shower and stride to the bedroom toweling myself dry. I grab my deodorant and quickly slide the scentless stick under my arms, put it down and reach for some moisturizer. Pausing, I decide to go back to the bathroom and seize the almond oil instead. Naughtily, I march to the closet and swing open the door revealing the full length mirror that hangs there. I lay down the towel and sit on it.

I stare at the face in the mirror. My eyes look back at me disapprovingly, reminding me that I have agreed to forego the lustful craving that I am in danger of rousing again. With a shrug I ignore the rebuke and rationalize that I need to finish my post shower routine and that this involves a certain amount of touching of sensitive areas of my body. I look down at my proud breasts thinking how large my aureolae are when not aroused. I run a finger around a nipple so that I can watch the brown skin tighten and shrink as the nipple simultaneously pops forth. Involuntarily, I lick my lips.

With a burst of honest introspection I admit to myself that I sat down to look at my newly shaven twat. To examine it, to admire it, to test whether it feels or reacts differently to a touch. I avoid my mirrored eyes and gaze down so that I can ogle my truly naked pleasure pot. Moving closer, I look at pores that have not been clear of growth since before puberty. My folds sit slightly parted, their crinkled edges bending inwards as if trying to hide from my leering gaze. I place a few drops of oil on my fingers and begin to polish my vulva with the viscous liquid, gently working the balm into the flesh to cool the slight burning sensation created by the shaving action itself. I tingle at the feeling; my touch feels closer and more electric than it ever has before. I shudder with tension and glance at my clitoris which, no longer having a hiding place, juts down like a root from the grassy knoll above it.

Cautiously, I touch it, dragging a fingertip down its length. It hardens immediately and swells to the girth of a pencil. The hood seems to draw back as the head of my clit emerges and surveys its territory. 

'More.' I hear it shout. 'Harder.' it demands.

I reach beneath me and spread apart the entrance to my pussy as I twirl a greasy finger around my swaying shaft. I stare longingly in the mirror transfixed by my own gaping and hairless snatch and marvel at how its ugly beauty has so aroused me. I feel helpless and in its command; mesmerized by the overlapping folds that line the path to bliss.

I close my eyes and they are there, loving me. One has managed to squeeze his head between the mirror and my pussy and he is running his tongue along the lips that I keep wide with my hand. The other has pulled out his cock and has knelt so that I can accommodate him in my mouth. He slides in and out deepening his penetration into my throat with each succeeding push.

'Look.' my sex orders and I lean to a side, open my eyes and lift a leg so that I can stare at my stretched slit and my asshole together while I frig my nub and imagine them at the same time.

Something catches my eye. Moving as close as I can, I see them, a few isolated strands of hair that have escaped my barbering and now mar my fantasy of smoothly shorn perfection. 

And the moment is lost.



Hunger Ch. 03



I woke up with a sore head and my ears ringing from the sound of two angry voices shouting at each other.

"What have you done to her?" Jerry's angry voice said.

"Why would you ever think that I'd do anything to her?" Ben's angry voice replied, not much calmer than Jerry.

I tried to sit up, to stop their fighting, but fell back weak and dizzy into what appeared to be my bed. They were standing just outside of the room, and I decided to try to call them instead.

"Hello" I said, obviously too low for them to hear me.

"Stop fighting" I tried a bit louder.

"Hey!!" I shouted, pressing my hands to my aching head.

Two wild-looking men came running into the room, hair on end, worried frowns on their faces.

"Stop fighting!" I repeated, glad that I'd finally gotten their attention.

"I was hit by a coworker, Ben took care of me when I came home" I told Jerry.

"I met Jerry at work, he'd been tricked to go there, probably by that same coworker" I told Ben.

They stared at each other, somewhat shamefaced, and then looked at me, obviously still worried. I looked back at them, instantly seeing the similarities, taking my time scanning them for differences. They both had strong faces, dark hair and brown eyes. Ben was taller, but slightly thinner than Jerry. Jerry had a lot of laughter lines in his face and Ben seemed to have more distinct worry lines on his forehead. My thoughts about the possible differences in their personalities that their faces seemed to indicate were interrupted by Jerrys low laughter. He had obviously seen me staring at them, my appreciation of their physical appearances hopefully not as easy to see.

"You fainted," Ben said, still serious "and we didn't reach you in time so you hit your head."

"Again?" I answered with sigh.

"What, again?" they both answered in chorus.

"Right," Ben said, his voice tense "you're going to the hospital!"

From that point, all of my attempts at convincing them I was fine and that I didn't need to go see a doctor were in vain. I was not used to my decisions being overridden by anyone, but the power of two stone-faced, stubborn men was too much for me right then and there. When I refused to get out of bed, Ben lifted me up and held me upright; when I refused to get dressed, Jerry just shrugged, started untying the belt to my bathrobe and told me he'd gladly help. In the end I was standing up dressed, hair brushed, wearing shoes, holding my purse and staring angrily at two of the most annoying men in world. 

After being half pushed and half carried to one of their cars, I sat silent and grumpy in the passenger seat. I didn't like being told what to do; I didn't like going to the doctors; I didn't want to go in their stupid car.

Of course I realized that the thoughts that were circling in my head all sounded like those of a whiny child, but seriously, I was a grown woman, if I wanted to stay at home and sleep the pain away, I should be able to do that.

"Stubborn, annoying, manhandling bullies" I muttered under my breath.

"What was that dear?" Jerry asked with a sweet smile, making it quite clear that he'd heard what I'd said.

"Nothing," I answered "absolutely nothing."

I could see my face reflected in the side window of the car and the fact that I was looking like that same angry child that was stuck in my head didn't exactly improve my temper. It did however make me realize that the careful mask I usually wore had slipped off completely. 

"Who needs visualization techniques," I thought to myself "when the careful touch of three heavy-handed men is so effective."

I was still annoyed when we reached the hospital, but some of the worst irritation disappeared after Ben helped me when I almost fell on my way into the reception area. I was still dizzy and there was something wrong with my sense of balance; perhaps I needed help after all. As my anger wore off it was quickly replaced by a familiar feeling of dread. I really didn't like hospitals.

Ben must have sensed that something was wrong, because he turned a worried pair of golden brown eyes my way and smiled an encouraging smile. He then put his arm around my shoulders and walked me to the reception. I managed to focus on talking to the nurse in charge of admittance and filling out a registration form, but after taking a seat I could feel tension spreading through my body. My breathing became shallow and quick, which in turn made the dizziness worse.

"Please," I begged Ben "I can't do this. I want to go home."

He took my hand and tried to calm me down by telling me stories about his and Jerry's childhood adventures, at least all of the ones ending up at the hospital. My eyes were nervously circling the borders of a large painting on the wall, my ears were listening intently to Ben's whispered words and the rest of my body was shaking from the effort of sitting still. 

Jerry came walking after having parked the car and sat down beside me. He leaned over to talk to Ben who tried to communicate something to him using facial expressions and nods. As Jerry looked at me his eyes went wide and his facial expression turned to one of surprise and shock. After another silent conversation between the brothers, Jerry started rubbing my back. Ben talked as Jerry ran his warm hand up and down my back and somehow my fear was kept in check by their joint effort.

I don't know how long we sat there waiting, but both Ben and Jerry sighed in honest relief when my name was called by a young, blond, kind-looking nurse.

"Your husband can come with you," the nurse said, looking at the three of us "but his brother has to wait out here."

If I had been my good old self I would probably have been embarrassed by the nurse's assumption about my relationship to the Sanderson brothers, but as it was I kept silent, happy that I would at least have one of them accompany me through my own personal gates of hell.

The masters of silent communication seemed to argue who should stay and who should go and in the end an annoyed Jerry sat back down. Ben put his arm around my waist and helped me on my swaying way towards an examination room and the unavoidable meeting with a doctor.

Hours later, poked, pressed, MRI-scanned and otherwise thoroughly investigated I was lying in a hospital bed feeling sleepy and chemically calm. After my first hysterical outburst when the doctor had started his examination, Ben had explained "the situation" and the doctor quickly solved the panic problem by medical means. The rest of the evening went by in a bit of a blur, but in the end it was decided that I would have to stay overnight, for hourly checkups, since I probably had a concussion.

Ben couldn't stay - mostly because of hospital rules - but he told me that he or Jerry would pick me up in the morning. As he hugged me goodbye I thought about the way he had kept me company and helped me for hours on hours and I felt a strange feeling inside, warm and tingly, like a summer sunrise.

"Thank you," I told him with a small smile "thank you so much for your help; I wouldn't have survived without you."

As he walked away I fell asleep with the smile still covering my face, happy despite being stuck in the house of medical horrors. That smile slowly faded as the night wore on and the medicine wore off; with my sleep being constantly interrupted by checkups adding to my discomfort.

- - - - -

I met the morning without much enthusiasm, slowly opening my eyes to stare at an annoyingly cheerful nurse that wanted to let me know that the doctor was due to arrive in half an hour and that I would probably be sent home after he had examined me one last time. With a yawn worthy of a big white shark I climbed out of bed to look at my reflection in the mirror. The color of my bruise had really blossomed overnight and made quite a picture along with my pale skin, my tired eyes and my tangled hair. 

A cheerful "good morning" interrupted my depressing contemplation of the tired, old woman in the mirror. A low whistle made me turn around and I found Jerry standing there, flowers in his hand, eagerly staring at a point below my waist. Realizing that the hospital gown must have been showing the very naked rear parts of my body as I stretched to run my fingers through my hair, I felt my face grow warm. I pulled the ugly, flowery dress closed around me, stalked to the bed and hid under the thin comforter. 

Jerry cleared his throat, pulled a chair up to my bed and sat down, putting the flowers on my bedside table.

"How are you feeling," he asked with a sad smile "are you in pain? Can I help in any way?"

Before being able to answer him we were interrupted by the medical team wanting to take a look at me. The doctor read through my papers, looked up at me, down at the papers and then up at me again before using an unnaturally soft and soothing voice to tell me about the test results and his medical conclusions; I didn't have any major injuries, no damaged bones, no visible blood collections in my brain, some superficial soft tissue damage, however the previous day's dizziness could not be ignored since it was very likely that I had a concussion. His recommendation was for me to go home, rest and - to be on the safe side - make sure I had company the first couple of days, to be able to get quick help if any complications would occur.

Jerry had been standing by my bed, keeping a warm hand on my shoulder, two of his fingers stroking my neck all the while the doctor was talking, his touch keeping me calm. When the doctor and his team walked off to their next prey, Ben kept his hand where it was, pressing and circling my sensitive skin with his warm fingers. The touch of that magical hand was again sending shivers across my skin at the same time as liquid heat seemed to be pouring out from my core, making my body feel both overly sensitive, filled with eager anticipation and deliciously warm and comfortable. 

As his brother had filled my heart and soul with warmth the day before, Jerry seemed to have his own special brand of very hands-on heat that was able to fill me with warmth of a slightly different kind. Some quick thoughts floated through my head telling me that that was probably the very definition of their real characters and the most distinct difference between them; the caring Ben and the physical Jerry. 

Jerry interrupted my thoughts once again by removing his hand and telling me it was time to go home. I tried to ignore the way the absence of his hand made me long for his touch again, but the signals of my body were too strong for my tired brain to suppress. As Jerry stepped out of my room, I slowly got dressed in my own clothes, every piece of clothing accompanied by worried thoughts about my reactions and the situation I'd found myself in. Why didn't my ever present relationship alarm system seem to be working anymore? Shouldn't I be a bit more worried about the fact that I had obviously let two very strong men into my life? Shouldn't my reactions to their presence be a bit more like my reactions to doctors and hospitals?

Those swirling thoughts made my head ache again and as I stepped out into the hallway to find Jerry waiting there with a smile covering his face, my response to his cheerfulness was an annoyed huff that made him laugh softly. He pulled my arm over his and started walking me out towards freedom.

After some paper exercise Jerry asked me to sit down in the reception area again, just so he could get the car, and I reluctantly agreed. The feeling of the hospital still filled me with nervous energy and I couldn't sit down and wait, so I paced the width of the entrance, eyes firmly fixed on the floor beneath my feet. As the doors opened I stopped and looked up expecting to see Jerry coming to get me, but my eyes were met by the very surreal image of a police officer gently escorting a red eyed, shaking Rose into the hospital.

"Rose," I heard my voice say "what has happened?"

She looked up at me, shook her head in a slow careful movement and continued walking. She was met by a nurse who quickly led her away, leaving me standing in stunned silence. I realized that I had never seen Rose in anything but her normal, perfectly made-up, carefully dressed appearance. The woman that I had just met was almost not recognizable as the Rose I knew and loved. What in the world had happened to her? 

When the doors opened again I didn't hear them, but stood in frozen silence, staring at the spot where I had last seen Rose. A hand on my shoulder made me quite literally jump and when I turned my face towards Jerry, his reaction was to pull me into his arms and hurriedly ask me what had happened and if I was alright. His obvious worry made a fleeting thought speed through my mind - perhaps I had been wrong in my initial thought that he was all heat and no warmth.

I walked with reluctant steps aiming for Jerry's car, but with my head turned towards the hospital, still thinking about Rose, wondering what had happened and if there was anything I could do to help. It felt like my thoughts were stuck in a swirling pool of maple syrup and I couldn't pull myself together enough to put them in any semblance of order. I needed help!

As I sat down in Jerry's car, I quickly reached for my purse and my phone and dialed Mary's number. My fingers danced a nervous dance on the side of my leg and when I looked up at Jerry his face was covered with a worried frown, still silently wondering what had happened.

"Susan," Mary answered after two signals "what is wrong?"

"I just met Rose," I started, trying to think of a way to explain it all "at the hospital, crying, probably hurt. I didn't manage to talk to her, but she was really shaken up."

"Ok," Mary answered with a gruff voice "I'm just going to ignore the fact that you were at the hospital, which I think need further explanation, and go straight for the questions about Rose. How did she get to the hospital, was she alone, did you see in what way she was hurt?"

I answered as quickly as I could, sad that I didn't have more answers to give. Perhaps I should have tried to follow Rose? What did the presence of a police officer mean?

"Right," Mary said, her voice hurried and the sound of her car starting audible even over the sound of traffic around me "I'm going there, she probably won't admit it, but she's going to need someone to lean on."

"Ok," I answered, thoughts still tumbling around in a pattern-less jumble "please let me know if I can help in any way!"

I sat silently staring at the streets passing by, trying to sort out my feelings and thoughts, when Jerry reached over and stilled my tapping, twitching fingers.

"You met a friend at the hospital," he asked with a low voice "and she was hurt?"

I nodded and he caressed my hand and the leg beneath it. Through my worry I could still feel that Jerry effect, first calming me and then starting a storm of inappropriate feelings of hot neediness. I removed his hand and with a shake of my head I turned my eyes out the window again. I needed some time to process this without the confusion of my own hormonal response to his nearness. He seemed to understand that I needed silence and drove on without asking any more questions and thankfully without trying to sooth me in the way that seemed to come as natural to him as breathing, by a simple but oh so potent touch of his hand.

A short time later I was awoken from my contemplations by Jerry's careful "we're here" and I realized we were parked outside of my apartment building. I sat still staring in front of me until Jerry opened my door, unbuckled my belt and gently eased me out of the car. He walked me slowly through the entrance, up to the elevator doors, pushed all the necessary buttons and in short time had me standing in front of my door. Like a robot I reached into my purse for my keys, movements automatic and slow. When I dropped the keys on the floor, Jerry reached for them and opened the door, got me inside, took my purse and coat and walked me into the apartment.

"Ben," he called on his way in "we need you out here right now!"

Ben came running out of my bedroom, dusty but with a happy smile that turned into a shocked and worried expression as soon as he saw us.

"Jeez Jerry," he almost shouted "what's happened this time?"

"I don't know really," Jerry grumbled in answer "she met a friend that was hurt at the hospital and after that she seemed to shut down. It's almost like she's in shock or something?"

"Ah right," I thought "that's where that numb feeling is coming from then? Shock?"

"Should we bring her back to the hospital?" Jerry asked Ben who answered with a shake of his head.

"You weren't there yesterday when she started hyperventilating;" Ben said "I don't think going back there is the answer."

They walked me into the spare room I reluctantly and temporarily called my bedroom and sat me down on the edge of the bed.

"She needs to get warm," Ben stated, rubbing my cold hands between his.

"Right," Jerry said and removed my shoes and his own, pulled the covers off the bed and pulled me with him into it.

"What are you doing?" Ben asked with an annoyed shake of his head.

"Warmth, easily at hand, tons and tons of it" Jerry answered with a smile somewhere between kind and wicked.

Ben seemed to think about what his brother was saying for a short while before removing his own shoes, trying to remove the dust from his person before deciding to just peel off the outer layers of his clothes, leaving him pant less in a black t-shirt and underwear. He then climbed into bed and pulled my body next to his. 

"Warmth," he stated with a nod "good idea."

Jerry grumbled something under his breath about annoying older brothers and slid closer to me, pressing close to the other side of my body.

Within minutes I was feeling warm and comfortable and I fell asleep deliciously sandwiched between the two annoying but handsome and sweet brothers.

* * * * *

I was thoroughly enjoying the experience of keeping Susan warm, trying to ignore the fact that my brother was lying on the other side of her sleeping form.

"What a mess!" Jerry whispered, destroying my efforts to ignore his presence.

"I think she's a really pleasant mess." I whispered back.

"Well, yes she's more than nice, but you being here is not!" he shot back.

"I'm not going to start an 'I saw her first' fight with you," I said, keeping my voice low "but I did, in fact, meet her first."

"And you've been keeping your usual 'I'd like to be your friend' attitude up until now, haven't you?" Jerry whispered.

"And you've been trying to get her into bed as quickly as possible as you usually do, haven't you?" I whispered back, annoyance coloring the tone of my voice.

"And here I am, in bed, irritating brother cramping my style." he grumbled.

"You can't seriously be thinking about seducing a concussed, unconscious woman?" I said, voice a bit louder, anger boiling under the surface.

"Of course not," he whispered with an exasperated sigh "you know better than saying or even thinking that!"

And of course I knew better, there was nothing wrong with my twin brother; we just had two different ways of approaching life. Knowing that my brother struggled with his life choices as much as I did, didn't really help in the situation we were in. I thought I had finally found a nice girl that I could imagine being more than friends with. And Jerry had basically found the living image of all of his teenage and most of his grownup sexual fantasies.

I kept quiet and thought about how to solve the problem, but landed in the uncomfortable certainty that the choice would probably have to be Susan's. Though I loved my brother well enough, I hated him for his innate charm and evident success with women. My only hope was that he'd loose interest in Susan soon, preferably before he'd taken the, for him, natural step of sleeping with her.




Hunger Ch. 03



It probably wasn't a good idea to start thinking about Jerry's sexual fantasies or him sleeping with Susan, because somehow the idea of being left on the outside, the spectator, both depressed and aroused me. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Susan's body against mine, my head filled with images of the things Jerry would probably do to her, touching her in just the way that I longed to. My musings were interrupted by Jerrys low laughter. 

"You're getting worked up, aren't you?" he asked with laughter in his voice.

"Yeah, how did you know?" I mumbled.

"I am familiar with the signs," he answered "don't worry, I'm right there with you."

I suppressed the urge to tell him to go to hell and closed my eyes again. The idea of Jerry and Susan together wasn't as repulsive as I had initially thought, as long as I could be there with them. I flipped the thought over in my mind, what if I was the one touching Susan and Jerry had to sit there and watch, would that feel weird? No, not weird, just very, very arousing. I wouldn't just have Susan caught in the heat of my caresses, but also my brother. What a truly powerful image that was.

A groan slipped out and I could hear Jerry laughing again. I opened my eyes and lifted my head up to find Jerry staring at me, wicked smile in place.

"Do you think she would be willing to..." I started with as silent a whisper that it was possible for me to produce.

"... have us both?" Jerry continued "I don't know, but I know that she's got a lot of fire and passion inside of her. I guess time will tell."

"We need to take it easy, to be careful." I said, convinced that was the way to go.

"Oh brother, I don't think that's quite true," Jerry answered "I felt her go from stone cold to living, breathing fire in just a couple of minutes. I'd say that taking it slow will only make her stop, think and push us away."

Before I had the time to get annoyed at Jerry's words, Susan turned in her sleep and pressed the front of her body close to mine. Thoughts were temporarily stopped as I felt the contours of her slim shape and her small, firm breasts caress the front of my body. My groan was quickly followed by a corresponding one from my twin brother, obviously liking the way her body was fitted against his as well. 

She had seemed really tired and we were probably in for a long wait, but I closed my eyes and delighted in the pleasure of holding her in my arms and of my thoughts of a possible future.

* * * * *

The idea of sharing a woman might have been a shocking one to my careful brother, but it had been one of the first things that had popped up in my head after seeing them together. I didn't think Ben would be open for any suggestions even pointing that way, but as we were lying there in her bed I could almost feel his thoughts circling around the problem. And then, surprisingly, he had finally found the only solution that would keep us all happy. 

Perhaps it wasn't that surprising though? Ben always wanted to keep everyone happy. But this time he didn't choose another person's happiness before his own. He must really like her, and if he found the solution livable, I wasn't going to be the one who put a spoke in that particular wheel.

As Susan pushed her bottom in perfect precision against my aching groin I gritted my teeth and bit back a curse. I wouldn't mind putting my spoke in any distinctly wheel-shaped of part of her body, I thought to myself, before pulling back slightly, needing to cool off before I proved both myself and my brother wrong and started making love to our sleeping beauty. Waiting for her to wake up might quite possibly kill me.



Hunger Ch. 04



I feel the sharp pang of disappointment as I realize that my own psyche has left me stranded on the floor, bereft of the means and energy to scale the soaring walls of delight that I was so close to conquering moments ago. I weaken as the rush of passion ebbs and the soft focus of arousal fades, replaced by the harsh glare of the fluorescent bulb above me and the coarse rub of the nylon rug beneath me. 

Too, I sadly conclude that my pubic artwork has fallen short of the erotic masterpiece I was aiming for. I sit embarrassed and exposed in front of the mirror, the missed hairs suddenly more prominent and seeming to grow like grass in time-lapse while I watch. I am concerned about what he will think and say when he comes back from his trip. By then, sharp little twigs will be sprouting throughout my nether region and I will be scratching myself to relieve the constant accompanying itch.

'What were you thinking?' I chastise myself and scowl at the cloak that my clit has nervously slunk back into. 'Carpe diem indeed.' 

With a start, I stand and stride to my room where I quickly open multiple drawers of my dresser and pick out the components of an outfit that will suffice for the rest of the afternoon. I step into a pair of opaque blue panties and am reminded by the grating fabric that my depilatory maneuvers were inadequate to the task. I place my breasts into the cups of a front-clasping matching bra and quickly evaluate the ensemble before sitting on the bed to pull my blue jeans up my legs and past my knees. Standing up, I wriggle the jeans over my thighs and then jump a little to secure them around my hips at which time I close the dull gold buttons that run up the front seam and serve as the first line of defense to my sex. 

Quickly, I pull a gray sweatshirt stenciled with navy blue 'Grand Canyon' lettering over my head and wrench it down to my waist. I tug a pair of light wool socks over my feet and patter over to the hallway where my ten pairs of boots and sneakers lay randomly strewn across the floor of the closet. Pondering the sight, I reach down and rescue my favorite pale gray light hiking boots from the chaos, pull them on and lace them up. I grab my keys, strap on a waist purse, flick off the lights and walk out of the apartment. I listen for the reassuring click when I turn the two deadbolts after I close the door. 

I walk to the elevator, my Vibram soles padding silently on the thin mottled blue runner that stretches along the middle of the scratched parquet floor of the hallway. I press the 'down' button and notice as it goes from white to red and then back to white when the 'ping' announcing the cab's arrival breaks the musty quiet around me. Pausing for effect, the elevator doors finally glide open and I glance in and see three other people.

I make a quick assessment as I step into the cab and mutter a soft 'Hi'.

Two men and a woman. The men are friends. Not boyfriends, I don't think. Buddies. Perhaps roommates. They are clearly going out to enjoy the afternoon. One is cute; tall with sharp Grecian facial features and dark tightly curled hair. He shoots me a look, instantly surveys me and with an appreciative smile returns my greeting with a soundless whisper. The other man is less attractive. He is softer all over and has the look of a person who considers themself ordinary. He exudes a lack of self-confidence and does not even bother to regard me.

Do they know her? It is hard to say because they aren't talking amongst each other.

But, if they don't I bet they wish they did because she is stunning. Even my momentary glance is sufficient to see that she is beautiful: close-cropped blonde hair, high cheekbones, blue eyes, pouty lips and a killer body. She is a goddess and I hate her without knowing her. Yet, I am instantly attracted to her and though I have never been with a woman I feel an immediate and pleasantly familiar tingle in my breasts. 

I swiftly realize that she actually is of this world. She going to the laundry and I dully remember that I too need to spend some quality time in that room, wrapped in its mesmerizing bubble of heat while I listen to the monotonous whir that pervades the space. The thought depresses me.

I dutifully turn to face the door and raise my head to watch the numbers decline in time with the movement of the elevator. When we reach the ground floor I step out first and glance back and see the woman press the button to go to the basement as the two men step out after me. I hear one of them burst out in laughter and I wonder if there is something about me that has caused amusement. Am I trailing toilet paper from a shoe? Do I have a hole in my jeans? Does my ass look big?

I pick up my pace and move away from the guffawing behind me. I walk past the doorman who has moved to open the door, step out onto the sidewalk and walk away. I turn back and, with relief, see the men striding in the opposite direction.

Relaxing, I finally take in a deep breath and look up at the sky. Spring, with its mercurial temper, is here. The sun is fighting heavy clouds and the air is crisp yet heavy with moisture. I shiver. The day is undecided about its future and I know that I have risked being caught in a downpour if the grey marshmallows coalescing above the city begin to weep.

Thankfully, it is just a few blocks to my destination. I skitter down the street past the familiar shops, weaving my way through the mass of people who are going about their business. I reach the shop and peer inside to see that there are no other patrons in the small public space. I open the door and hear the jingle announcing my arrival to the proprietor who is hidden in a back room. I venture in and my nostrils are assaulted by the smell of acetone that permeates the close quarters of the shop.

"Just a second." an accented voice calls out. As she steps into the front area of the store, the owner looks me over and says "I thought I put out 'closed' sign. I taking late lunch break." 

I think to myself that she is from Eastern Europe or Russia but I am not sure.

"I'm so sorry." I reply. "I can come back later."

"No, is okay. You stay. I turn sign now." And she walks past me to the door and flips the worn cardboard sign from 'open' to 'closed' and, I notice, flips the lock on the door. 

It is my turn to look at her. She is an attractive woman who I think is about the same age as me and is blessed with silky shoulder-length black hair that shines as though it were recently burnished. Her look is exotic; piercing gray eyes centered in sockets that approach oval and wide cheekbones that seem to stretch her round face. She is tall and her broad chest enables her to transport the ample pair of breasts that bounce beneath her loose t-shirt when she walks. She is wearing a short skirt with sheer leggings that accentuate her firm and muscular thighs. She has the appearance of an athlete and carries herself with authority.

"So," she says turning to look at me, "How can I help you?"

I feel myself blush as I point to the sign with her services and say "I would like to get that."

"Yes?" she questions. "Is first time?" she continues and I nod my assent realizing the rush of blood to my cheeks has not faded.

"Come to back." she says and sweeps her arm towards the room that lies hidden behind some floor length curtains. "Look at book."

I follow her to the cramped space behind the curtains and sit in the chair that rests besides the elevated leather and towel covered board that I will soon find myself on. She hands me a photo album and then stands back against the wall and begins to prepare the materials that she will need for the procedure.

I open the cover of the album and feel a trill of excitement run through my body. I do a quick flip through the pages astounded at the variety, the shapes, the sizes, the designs that stare back at me. I turn back to the first page as I feel myself moisten and realize my nipples have swelled.

Pussies. I am looking at a book of pussies. Adorning each one is a work of art minimally comprised of shaven and sculpted pubic hair. The variety astounds me. Of course, there are the designs I had expected to see, the familiar patterns ubiquitous in porn movies or occasionally glimpsed in the public shower at the gym. With a hand covering my open mouth, I read the titles beneath the photos: landing strip, triangle, flame, departing sea, rated x. I turn the pages and see arrows, lightning bolts, diamonds, beards, moustaches, cityscapes, faces, initials, chevrons and jeweled labia beneath thin lines of hair. The assortment seems endless.

I imagine myself sporting each design as I gaze at a photo. I am strutting into a room with just a t-shirt covering my jiggling breasts while my lithe legs draw attention to the small fluffy cone sprouting from the very top of my pussy. I am laying on my back looking down as a man's tongue works its way along my thigh to the open pit that rests beneath the slim pointed arrow of closely cropped turf that points to my engorged button. I am lowering my totally naked twat onto the gleaming head of a massive erection that is swelling as my open lips begin to engulf it. I am trailing my fingers along the razor trimmed edge of an open half-moon that cloaks my mound as I squeeze the balls of a cock that I ride with my back to my lover. 

"So, what will it be?" she asks interrupting the thoughts that have caused my breath to deepen and my senses to heighten. "Do you see something you like?"

"There are so many to choose from." I reply amazed. "I thought I would just get everything taken off but now I'm not sure. Do you mind if I ask which one you have?"

She looks at me with raised eyebrows and a smirk and I feel sure that I am about to get a sharp rebuke and a lecture that I should mind my own business. But, instead, she continues to stare me straight in the eye as she walks over to me and stops. She is practically on top of me. I turn the book around to let her point out the design she sports.

"See for yourself." she says and lifts the front of her skirt with her hands.

I almost drop the book of photos from the shock of her brazenness and I hear her give a snort of derision at my reaction. I struggle yet manage to maintain my composure and, realizing that she wears stockings and not leggings, stare at the manicured flesh that rests inches from my face, commanding my attention. As the jolt of surprise eases I am able to examine the display with an appreciative eye.

Tipped by black nails that are flecked with gold her ten slender fingers are holding the hem of her skirt bunched like a curtain above a landscape of skin and hair as meticulously worked and cared for as the trimmed shrubs of a royal castle. I lean back in the chair to gain perspective and discern the whimsical butterfly that has been created in that most sensitive of gardens.

At the very top of her hood are two tiny antennae of hair. Thin wisps that have been colored a pale brown, they feather out as they stretch away from her clit which itself is cast as the body of the insect. Reaching out from the middle of her bud to where a normal pubic triangle ends and then running down the sides of her prominent labia, just along the ridge of her lips, are thin lines of hair as black as the tresses that adorn her head. This clipped and almost imperceptible growth trails down into the dark reaches beneath her opening and disappears from my sight. Like a stencil, the lines form the outer edges of the wings of the insect.

Inside the boundaries is an expanse of bare flesh that has been permanently colored so that any man or woman who enjoys her pleasures will first encounter the cocoon of her thighs before she opens up into the creature and envelopes their face or body in the damp delight that stands slightly parted for my inspection. 

For the second time in less than half an hour, I am entrapped by a female vision and this time watch intently as the woman sways and the wings seem to flutter before my eyes. The air has become thick and the room seems to have quieted and shrunk. As I lean in for a closer examination of the tattooed skin and shaped hair, drawn to her like a bee to pollen, she widens her stance, separating her lips which now hang loosely and complete the vision of the winged creature. Her odor reaches my nostrils which flare as I inhale deeply. Her scent propels me into a semi-conscious state and, mesmerized, I feel my tongue begin to protrude from between my moistened lips and my hand search for the denim covered heat sink between my legs.

The butterfly is coming closer as she leans and arches her back, pushing her colored sex towards my jutting tongue. I close my eyes and wait for her womanhood to be pressed against the saliva drenched tip of my tongue, wanting to taste her but not wanting to see because I am so terrified that I am aroused by the pussy of another female. I squeeze my thighs tightly around my own hand and I hear her laugh.

I open my eyes to see that she has lowered her skirt and denied me my first taste of the clear honey extruded from a womb. Her hands fly to my shoulders and hold me down when I try to stand and flee in mortal embarrassment. I am tortured yet again and my limbs ache, burdened by the denial of sensual pleasure that was building and I so expected to grasp. I silently moan and pinch the inside of my thigh to quell the unrest in my groin.

"Sorry Miss." she teases. "You are here for waxing, yes? I must open shop soon." 

"Yes, of course" I respond with mortified understanding and then make a lame attempt at conversation. "I love your design by the way, but wasn't it painful to be tattooed down there?"

"Hurt like crazy." she answers. "But worth it now I think, yes?" She smiles archly once again.

"It is quite beautiful, captivating really, well, obviously." I say giving her a quick glance and shrinking further into my chair.

"Up on table and take off jeans." she orders me getting down to business. "Which design do you want?"

I stand and as I kick off my boots and begin to unbutton my pants I try to clear my head and explain to her that I had made my own attempt at intimate grooming just a couple of hours ago and that, as a result, my options are somewhat limited and that what I think I really want is for her to take what I have done and make it look cleaner and feel smoother.

I have stripped off my pants and as I am hopping on the table I look down and see that my panties are visibly darker in one spot and that my excitement is once again on open display for her to see. She stares momentarily at the stain and I am humiliated by the betrayal of my body and wish that I had let well enough alone and never ventured into the cramped boutique.

"Let me take look." she says huskily and reaches up to slip the panties off my hips, down my legs and past my feet. I see her try to hide her actions when she presses her fingers into the dampness on my panties and then places them on the chair. She intently scrutinizes my pussy while nonchalantly placing her fingers to her nose and lips. She breathes me in and I want to grab her, to wrap my thighs around her face and conceal her eyes as I press my sodden well against her mouth.

I am leaning against a backrest trying not to watch as she carefully examines me. She is tormenting me with her actions that are purposely designed to both arouse and debase me. My eyes tear and I look at the walls when she moves my thighs apart and looks at my handiwork. As she gently lifts and bends my legs for optimal viewing I notice the breathtaking beauty in the posters of distant lands that adorn the room. I transport myself to a faraway place as she softly grazes her fingers on my labial lips, running them along the very edge of my cavity. I stare at the patchwork pillow design in front of me when she has me roll over and get on my knees so she can look between my cheeks and stroke the humid inside feigning the need to check on unwanted hair. 

"Miss," she says as I roll again, close my legs and prop myself up against the backrest. "You have done good start. I can quickly fix what you did or I can make some changes...."

"Tell me what you mean." I say. Despite my shame and degradation she has succeeded in stirring me and I cannot resist the desire to prolong my time with her. 

"Is better I show you, yes?" she responds and asks my permission by raising her eyebrows. 

I nod my surrender and for the next five minutes she goes back to skimming her digits over and around my most delicate parts while talking about follicles and growth angles. She pulls my lips to show me where I have cut and where I have missed and how she will fix the problems I created. She explores the growth I left at the top of my pubis and discusses sculpting options and colors, hair thickness, layering, razor cuts, scissor cuts. 

After assessing my body, my legs and my pubic area, she snaps a photo and, thrusting the pixilated vision of my sex in front of me, tells me that my small labia and clitoral hood both demand maximum exposure. She commands that I remove all but exactly two inches of an exceedingly fine line of hair that should emerge from the precise top of my valley and run towards my navel.

Helpless to disagree I weakly nod my acquiescence and throw an arm over my head as she begins. Tears drip from my eyes as the soft buzz of the grooming razor signals the clipping of the hair above my pussy and is followed first by the whispered brushing of the hot liquid onto my skin and then the angry rip of the gauze as she yanks the remnants of my once proud twists from the plots that surround my mons. 

She takes a mirror and holds it between my legs.

"You like?" she asks. "Looks nice, yes? Sexy, yes?"

I stare at her handiwork. My privates have been jerked bare and with the exception of the vestigial line of down at the top of my snatch, my pussy and ass are as unadorned as a newborn's. 

I am beautiful but the burning irritation is exquisitely annoying to me and I rub my fingers around the smooth contours to massage away the inflammation.

"Pain will go away soon." she says reassuringly. "I help with this." 

I watch as she dips two fingers into an open tin of white cream and watch as she places a dab of the calming salve onto my skin. Immediately I feel the shocking coolness of the balm begin to resolve the anguish of the violent ripping that I have endured. 

"Wow," I say thankfully, "That feels so nice."

Silently she continues to work the ointment and my skin responds thirstily, absorbing the fresh liniment like a parched desert. Her fingers slip vigorously around my pubic area and she makes sure to reach deep between my legs and attend to every pore that was assaulted during the treatment. 

I relax at her touch and she slides along the table so that she is standing next to my hips. I move a leg, bending it slightly at the knee and drawing it closer to my body, imperceptibly opening my slit. She slows her movement and continues by dipping just one finger into the cream and lightly rubbing the greasy concoction around the entrance of my gorge as she stares and bites her lower lip in captivated concentration. 

I inhale sharply and her eyes widen as she smiles knowingly. She shifts her stance somewhat and I see that she has moved her legs apart and I think of the air beneath her skirt growing muggy from the moist heat I know is escaping her parted thighs. 

I take a risk and breathlessly move a hand to reach for her leg and am rewarded when she sidles even closer to give me free access. As she ever so slightly begins to thrum my stiffened clit that stands naked and alone I reach into the clammy atmosphere under her kilt and desperately search for her unsealed entrance. When I find it I am rewarded with her moan and the slippery fluid that oozes from her and flows onto my inquisitive fingers.




Hunger Ch. 04



I grew conscious in small, quiet steps, my senses waking up just as slowly, one by one. I felt the heat of the sun caressing the side of my face and the warmth of the two now familiar bodies pressed to my front and back. I sensed the smell of sawdust and fabric softener along with an undefinable but distinctly male scent. I heard the soft breaths of both Ben and Jerry and felt the smooth t-shirt and only slightly rougher skin that my face was pressed against. I felt my upper body pressed against, almost lying on top of, one male form, and another equally male form cradling my back and the lower parts of my body.

All that warmth made me feel like a lazy cat, leisurely lying down in that one spot of sunshine. My body longed to stretch just like a cat as well, and if I was really honest with myself the human version of someone stroking my fur wouldn't go amiss either.

I opened my eyes just a little, peering through my eyelashes. If Ben was in front of me, then that must mean that Jerry was the person glued to my backside. Come to think of it, I recognized the way he used to push himself really close.

My left arm was flung across Ben's midsection and my right one was caught between us, tingling slightly, as if I'd been sleeping on it. Jerry's hand was firmly placed on my left hip, like a buckle securing my close fit to his body.

I continued exploring the sensory information that my body was sending to my only just awakened mind; my hand sensing the lean, strong muscles of Ben's upper body; my legs enjoying the tangle with Jerry's legs; my mouth sending breaths against Ben's neck; my butt feeling the pressure of Jerry's hard groin. 

I let my hand move slowly upwards searching out a strong chest and turned my face slightly to press a kiss on Ben's sweet-smelling skin, causing an extra heavy exhale from him. I pushed my butt against the growing bulge in Jerry's pants, making him curse in a low tone as he pressed himself even closer.

"Thank god you're awake!" Jerry growled behind me.

"How long was I asleep?" I asked, my voice as sleepy as the rest of me.

"An eternity..." Jerry grumbled.

"Four hours," Ben answered softly "are you feeling any better?"

"Mmmmm, much better," I mumbled pressing my nose against his neck "have you been lying here all this time?"

"Yessss..." Ben answered with a strained voice as I started kissing his neck.

"She's a right love-bundle when she's sleepy, isn't she?" Jerry mumbled as he pushed my hair away to get access to my neck.

Ben growled and pushed himself down further, his warm mouth kissing its way across my face, searching for my mouth. At the same time that Ben started pressing soft kisses on my lips, Jerry's mouth found that pleasure point on my neck that he'd been so good at finding before. My eyes almost crossed from the double pleasure and I eagerly pressed my lips harder against Ben's. It almost felt like Ben was holding himself back, his hands not straying from their fixed position around my waist. Jerry on the other hand was letting his hands wander all over the back of my body, only prevented from reaching the front of me by Ben's arms blocking his way.

My body was filled with a potent erotic energy and the feelings that were spreading through my body were like nothing I'd ever felt before. One last niggling thought about protecting myself by keeping people at a distance was quickly washed away by the flood of emotions the filled me, body, mind and soul.

I untangled my left leg and wrapped it around Ben's thighs, feeling him grow tense as I let my leg brush him all the way up, stopping just short of his drawers. Out of all of us, Ben was the only one that was partly undressed, and I could tell that even the soft cloth of my pants affected him very strongly. A hitherto unknown desire to tease and to please made me suck his tongue into my mouth at the same time as I pushed my leg up higher and used my inner thigh to caress the impressive bulge hidden beneath the soft cloth of his briefs. As if I'd found a secret, magical button, he growled, lifted me up on top of him and started kissing me with all of his might.

I thought I heard Jerry whisper "oh yes" and "finally", but I was too occupied by Ben's wonderful kisses and the way his hands seemed intent on mapping all of my body with big, ravenous sweeps. With another loud growl Ben pulled my legs apart so my pulsing, needy nether lips were centered over his hot hardness. 

Too focused on the pleasure of Ben pressing against me in tiny circles, I didn't notice Jerry crawling up behind me. He pushed Ben's legs apart, which made Ben temporarily loose that wonderful gliding motion against me, and then took a hold of my body and lifted me up so I was sitting, back leaning slightly backwards, resting against his chest. Before I could complain about losing the pleasurable pressure of Ben's groin against mine, he started rubbing himself against me again. His hands were now holding my thighs, alternatingly lifting me up and pressing me close.

Jerry on the other hand, started pulling my sweater over my head, running his fingers up my back slowly, sending shivers across my skin. After gently untangling my hair and pulling the sweater off, he quickly shed his own shirt. He then pressed the full length of his upper body against my back, and a wonderful electric feeling started shooting from him to me and then back again. I moaned and pushed my pussy against Ben with all my weight and arched to reach as much of Jerry as I possibly could. The wonderful, strong hands of Jerry's unbuttoned my bra, and two appreciative male voices moaned in chorus as my humble breasts were revealed.

After a short, silent moment of complete stillness, Ben started moving with renewed fervor and Jerry started caressing his way up my stomach, slowly letting his fingers tickle their way up to the sides of my breasts. Ben's eyes went wide and dark when Jerry finally let his fingertips circle my nipples. My own reaction was to first freeze in anticipation and then as Jerry gently lifted my breasts up at the same time as his fingers squeezed my nipples, to sit down hard on Ben, my body shaking, the overwhelming feeling of the both of them quickly placing me on the edge, a breath away from a powerful release.

"Wonderful hair trigger woman" Jerry whispered into my hair as he let his right hand caress its way down my body again. This time there was nothing blocking his access to any part of my body and he slid his hand unhindered down my pants, rubbing his fingers on the outside of my panties. Less than ten flicks of his clever fingers later I came in a massive wave of pleasure, biting my tongue to prevent myself from screaming out loud. 

I shut my eyes and let myself drift on the waves and aftershocks of my release, not capable of taking in my surroundings until the last burst of pleasurable energy had passed through my system. I opened my eyes to the image of Ben's shaking body and sealed eyes and my ears to Jerry's low laughter, finding that he was also shaking slightly.

Jerry pulled me off Ben and placed me on my back, looking me over with an appreciative smile on his face. He then pulled my pants and panties off and leaned back admiring my fully naked body. Glancing at Ben who was still lying on his back with his eyes closed, he shook his head and then leaned in and started kissing me, not hesitantly or in an attempt to get to know me, but fully and hungrily eating my mouth, softly biting my lips and letting his tongue dance in circles around mine. His more aggressive approach to kissing made me tense up, but before long the pleasure of his skilled mouth stopped my thoughts of his experience being so much greater than mine.

Jerry started caressing, biting and licking his way down my body, expertly finding pleasure points wherever he went. My body followed his progress, eagerly lifting towards his every touch. Quiet and not so quiet moans slipped past my lips as he traveled his slow way across the landscape of my body. Within minutes he had my whole body shaking, close to peaking once more. 

His warm, wet tongue first lazily circled my nipples and then flicked them back and forth hard and quick before he sucked one of them into his mouth and used a sort of pulsating vacuum motion to create glorious friction. I whimpered loudly when he stopped pleasuring my breasts and he laughed that annoyingly soft laugh again.

"Ben," he called out with a soft voice "have you recovered yet?" 

"Just barely..." Ben answered with a gravelly voice.

"You really need to see this," Jerry said, his voice eager.

I turned my face towards Ben as he climbed out of bed and pulled his clothes off completely. I only had time to admire his strong body for a short while, before my attention was once again caught by Jerry's mouth refocusing on my breasts. His suction and vibration technique quickly had me on the edge again, my body once again following his mouth as he moved further away from the wrinkled surface of the bed. Before I could reach my ultimate, pleasurable goal, Jerry quickly stopped what he was doing. I let out a frustrated growl to indicate my annoyance but as usual Jerry only laughed, before slipping off the bed. He pulled his own clothes off with quick, efficient movements and jumped back into the bed, standing on his knees close to my waiting body, but still too far away in my opinion.

I turned my head towards Ben, who was also standing on his knees close but not close enough. He was letting his eyes follow the contours of my body, his heated look caressing me and sending unexpected shivers across my skin. I looked Ben in the eyes, pleading with him to come closer, to touch me the way I needed to be touched.

"Do you want to give her the big O this time brother of mine?" Jerry asked Ben.

Ben hesitated for a couple of short seconds before quickly sliding closer. He leaned in and started pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses on my stomach and then the top of my thighs, slowly circling closer and closer to my eager lips. I couldn't wait to feel his mouth on me, and my annoyed growl corresponded with his hungry one, as he pushed my legs apart, lifted my feet over his shoulders and spread me open. After a quick, even hungrier look, he rested his head against my thigh, spread my outer lips and leaned in, licking me with slow flicks of his tongue, teasing me by getting close to where I needed him, but not close enough.

I heard Jerry's low laughter just before he leaned in and started licking and biting my nipples; two teasing male mouths now making me shake with desperate need. A low, pleading whine wound its way out from my tense body and with that they both started rocking my body with wild licking and sucking, as if they'd been waiting for that specific signal to give me all they had.

I came in a violent explosion of multicolored stars and screamed out my pleasure without any thoughts of keeping quiet.

I lay there stunned by yet another powerful release, breaths heavy and quick. When I finally opened my eyes I saw two gloriously naked men standing on their knees in front of me and two large, eager cocks pointing and waving my way. Jerry lifted his hand and showed me a ribbon of colorful plastic packages, pointed to his brother and lifted his eyebrows in a question that even I could understand. I nodded and reached my arms out towards Ben, who silently accepted one of the condoms from his brothers stash, quickly rolled it on and crawled over my body. I lifted my legs up and spread them once again, letting Ben glide close, feeling the tip of his hot cock sliding slowly into my still slightly pulsating and very wet and eager pussy. Ben moved his pelvis in circling motions, slowly gliding in and out, preparing me for his obviously larger than average cock.

"She's so tight" he muttered under his breath, sweat glistening on his wrinkled forehead.

Jerry groaned and as I turned towards him I could see his hand moving in quick strokes up and down his cock, his eyes firmly fixed on the point where Ben was pushing in and pulling out of me. Ben's efforts at relaxing me by circling and pushing his way in and out of me was now aided by my eager hand, stroking my clit with quick, hard flicks of my fingers.

"Oh god..." I heard myself whimper, again on the verge of climaxing.

"Sweet Jesus" Ben answered before lifting himself up, pulling my butt halfway up his legs and then pushing himself into me with all of his weight and all of his strength. I felt him slide deep, hitting my cervix in that one mighty shove. A short, stinging pain stopped me from climaxing right then and there, but when Ben started moving again, his movements now long and fast, not quite as deep as that first heavy thrust, I felt the first tingles of my orgasm spreading through my body. With yet another shout I came hard; my pussy gripping Ben's cock and pushing my pleasure even higher, seemingly wanting to go on forever.

Ben's movements became erratic before he stopped moving completely, his last effort concentrated on lifting my pussy up higher and pushing himself as far into me as he could possibly go, finally shouting out his release and pumping his hips, pushing deep with the same speed as his beating heart.

After catching his breath, Ben pulled out of me and flopped over on his back, his eyes shut but with a wide smile on his face. I lay there on my back, trying to catch my breath, my body exhausted but warm and still pleasantly tingly from all of the pleasure they had given me.

A warm hand started caressing my breasts again, and I realized I had forgotten about Jerry, being caught up in the pleasures that Ben had given me. I opened my eyes and smiled up into the face of Jerry, still standing on his knees beside me. He was busy fondling my breast with his left hand and stroking his now condom-covered cock with the other hand.

With deliberately slow movements, Jerry flipped me over, then lifted me up and silently let me know that he wanted me standing on all fours. Even more unfamiliar with that position, I felt myself grow tense and anxious again, but instead of pushing himself inside of me as I had expected him to do based on the hot and eager looks he'd have given me, he spread my legs wide and then lay down with his head beneath my pussy, pulling me down towards his waiting mouth, set on giving me pleasure once again.

His approach this time seemed to center on making me come as quickly as possible as he circled my clit, sucked on my inner lips, pushed his tongue inside of me and used that pulsating suction technique on my clit in a pattern that quickly drove me higher and higher until I broke in a desperate wave of pleasure. 

Quickly sliding up from under me and placing himself behind me, he pressed his way inside my still quivering pussy with one strong push. He started moving with quick but long and powerful strokes and I could feel the end of my recent orgasm twining itself around the beginning of a new one; a new, powerful build-up, the end of which I was not sure that I would be able to reach in time, considering that Jerry's movements had just started to get erratic. Ben's helpful hand rubbing my clit with quick, hard up and down motions saved the day, and my voice and Jerry's mixed in a loud shout as we went shooting for the stars together.

Jerry's whispered "damn, she's absolutely lovely, can we keep her?" was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep again, warm body aching pleasurably and with a wide smile on my somewhat chapped lips.

* * * * *

Four fully awake hours thinking about the warm but sleeping woman beside me had definitely been about three and a half hours too long. Lying underneath of her, rubbing my aching cock against her warm pussy had been even more of a challenge, especially after my brother had succeeded in removing her sweater and bra. Seeing Jerry's hands on her breasts had made me desperate for release, but the final blow to my self-control had been her facial expression as she came all over my brother's hand. 

I had to shut my eyes and concentrate on ugly, disgusting things to prevent myself from coming in my pants, like a poor, desperate teenage boy. Jerry's laughter didn't help much as it only made me angry, and the flames of my anger seemed to feed the fire in my blood.

With great effort and helped by well-needed images of sweaty socks, puking childhood friends and other stupid things, I was able to calm myself just in time for Jerry's "you have to see this" message. Set on finishing this glorious game of lovemaking, preferably buried deep within Susan, I undressed and climbed back onto the bed.

As I carefully allowed my eyes to take in Susan's naked body, I realized she was as much of a quivering mess as I had been just minutes before. Her eyes seemed to beg me to help her and when Jerry asked me if I wanted to try to make her come it didn't take any convincing on his part, I just dived in and tried my very best to set her off and send her flying. I started out slowly, not wanting her to come too quickly, but when she let out a long, sad cry, I relented and sucked her clit in to my mouth and watched her go off like a rocket.

With my sight blurred from my heated thoughts and the images of her shaking body, Jerry had to push me to get my attention. He handed me a rubber and pointed to her body, her arms stretched out towards me, waiting. No more pushing or prompting was needed, as I quickly fixed the rubber and slid over her, pressing my thankful cock into her welcoming warmth.

Her tight pussy squeezed my cock in a strange mix of pleasure and pain, forcing me to take it slowly to prepare her for the deep strokes that I needed so badly. Moving slowly also had the added benefit of keeping my urgent need for release in check.

When she started rubbing her clit and I could feel the quivers starting in her pussy, my tight control broke and I pushed myself as fast and as hard as I could into her body, no thoughts present except a deep need to thrust faster and faster, until I exploded inside of her.

Weak from all the tension and the powerful release I pulled out of her and fell down on the bed beside her. She was looking deliciously dazed and thoroughly pleasured. I looked up at Jerry who was smiling and nodding at me. I had almost forgotten that he was there.

I lay there, completely drained, as Jerry turned Susan over, caressed and licked her and finally started fucking her with long, hard thrusts. She seemed to be reaching for another orgasm, and I pushed my willing hand between her legs and rubbed her as fast as I could, happy when she screamed out her joy, her voice almost not audible beneath the stretched out pleasure shout of my brother's.

She fell asleep instantly, lying on her stomach, with a happy smile on her face. I pulled the covers over her and watched her for mere minutes before I fell asleep beside her, feeling content, happy and sated.

* * * * *

They were both sleeping like two happy children and I couldn't help but laugh at them; a friendly laugh full of surprisingly large amounts of love. Of course I loved my brother, but could it be that I had started on that rocky road with Susan as well?

As I sat looking at them I silently contemplated what we had now started. A normal, two persons only relationship hadn't been working so far in my life, but I couldn't quite trick myself into believing that adding an extra person in the mix would lead to only good things. Unfortunately the opposite would probably be true, adding complications in every aspect of our lives. 

If we could keep the relationship on a purely physical level, we would probably be able to survive as long as passion ran as hot as it presently was. I shook my head at the thought, knowing that my brother probably wanted to have it all, sex and love and eternal happiness.




Hunger Ch. 04



And damn if I didn't want that same exact thing too...



Hunger Ch. 04



For the first time I work two digits inside of another woman and watch as she bends her knees to drive my probes deeper into her sopping cavern. This brings her head down closer to my torso, lowers her mouth to my honey pot and brings her tongue out and prepares to lap the swollen protuberance that is my clit. 

I am breathless with anticipation and work to keep my eyes open so I can watch as this stranger slakes her thirst from the well of my desire. She rotates her head to look at me and with a knowing smile she turns back to drink from the spring between my legs when the thick air is shattered by a violent ringing.

With a start she stands up straight and stares at me with a wide-eyed look of panicked dismay. She glances at her watch and swears.

"Is next appointment." she laments. "I must answer door. Get dressed now please."

"No, no, no." I whine. "Please don't answer. Maybe they will go away. Please." 

But I am too late and she exits the curtained area. In a fog I listen to her unlock the door and speak to her patron, explaining that she is running a few minutes late. As I finish buttoning my jeans I catch their chatter about the rain that has started to fall. And as I pull my boots onto my feet I hear her walk back to me.

I look up and see the same hunger in her eyes that I feel throughout my body. She strides over to me, takes my hand and thrusts it back between her legs pressing it against her butterfly. She writhes slightly, kisses my cheek and tells me to come back soon.

I stride out of the shop with my head down, not acknowledging or perceiving her next client, and step into the driving rain that is washing away the grime of the city.



Hunger Ch. 05



It seemed that every time I woke up lately, something new, strange, scary or wonderful was waiting just around the corner. I didn't know quite what to expect as I woke up this time. I wanted to believe I would wake up to incredible pleasure once more, but the absence of male forms in my bed seemed to indicate otherwise.

The darkness outside the window made me realize that I had probably slept the day away. I yawned and stretched, carefully cataloguing all of my injuries and sore spots, both those caused by anger and those given in moments of intense pleasure. My face was still hurting, but not as much as before, my breasts felt extra sensitive and my nether parts were slightly sore, unused to having sex with an actual man, probably shocked to bits by the thorough loving of not one but two men.

A wicked smile spread on my lips as I thought about the pleasure they had both given me. I felt my body answer the call of my thoughts with tingles spreading from my center and shivers covering my skin. I thought about Jerry's whispered words about my response to his touch, reliving the way his hands had made me feel, the tension and the explosive climaxes. I smiled as my mind caressed the memory of Ben losing control, his fierce need for me almost causing him pain.

The haze of pleasant memories was abruptly pushed aside by the realization that it was a workday and that I hadn't called in sick; and didn't I have a couple of important meetings that I'd forgotten to cancel?

I jumped out of bed and pulled my bathrobe on, quickly tying the belt in a simple knot before walking out into the hallway to search for my phone. The sound of laughter made me turn and walk towards what I suspected was two happy brothers; perhaps they would know where my phone was. As I entered the kitchen my mouth watered and my stomach grumbled loudly from the delicious smell of food filling the kitchen.

I managed to walk up to the table before they noticed me, the two brothers too busy eating, joking and laughing.

"Hey," I said looking at them with a shy smile "have you seen my phone?"

"Yes," Jerry said "but I won't give it to you until you've eaten something!"

Ben stood up and started pouring soup on a plate before cutting a large piece of flat, white bread and quickly placing the food on the table, pulling the chair out for me to sit on. The anger I felt against Jerry and the way he was trying to "handle me" was quickly dulled by Ben's kindness. I stood there staring at them for a few seconds before sitting down, surprised by how complicated my feelings towards the two brothers had become. It was as if they were interconnected in my mind, Jerry's teasing ways soothed by Ben's gentle touch; Ben's carefulness stimulated by Jerry's more straight forward approach to life. 

I looked at the food in front of me, my stomach once again crying out for attention, and carefully tasted what seemed to be a spicy tomato soup; the flat white bread I just stared suspiciously at.

"It's our grandmother's recipe again," Ben told me with an encouraging smile "tomato soup with garlic and chili, and focaccia bread."

I couldn't quite understand why I was so hungry until I realized it had been more than 24 hours since I ate. Ben's eyes followed my movements as I broke a small piece of bread and tasted it. He smiled happily when I took the whole piece of bread and started stuffing my mouth with it. The food was just as delicious as the pasta he had made, was it only a day ago?

After finishing off two plates of soup and that one big piece of bread, I leaned back in my chair absolutely and totally stuffed. 

"You don't eat enough!" Jerry stated with a worried frown.

"I eat just fine," I replied, anger quickly seeping back into my mind "where's my phone?"

Jerry fetched the phone from somewhere in the living room and handed it to me.

"I've answered two calls," he told me "one from your office and one from someone called Mary."

I stared at him surprised and annoyed but before I could start complaining about him answering my phone, Ben interrupted me.

"Jerry tried to wake you up a couple of hours ago, but when that didn't work he answered your phone, first when your boss called - he wished you well, told him you should stay at home as long as you needed and asked if you could call him after the weekend - and then when Mary called, because he thought that might be an even more important call."

"I thought it might be that friend of yours, at the hospital," Jerry answered softly "but it was another friend; you know the one who has a degree in phone interrogation techniques?"

Jerry laughed softly shaking his head before explaining that she had sucked everything he knew about the whole situation out of him, not even stopping to take a breath in the process. With a frown and an embarrassed smile he looked me straight in the eyes and continued.

"The whole, you know, relationship... thing... with the three of us, sort of slipped out too."

The relationship thing, I thought to myself and stared down at my hands that were pressed against the table; a relationship, meaning something more permanent than, say, casual sex? And the three of us, in that relationship? Yes, my mind told me, you know the whole two men, one woman thing, that's not really the norm, is it? 

Shocked that I hadn't stopped to think about the moral implications, I just sat there staring, my mouth slightly open. A whole range of feelings ran through my body: anger, fear, disappointment, confusion, hope, relief. I went hot, cold, numb and then back to hot again before I lifted my head up and stared at Jerry.

"What did Mary say?" I whispered.

"That was the strange thing," Jerry said "she wanted me to tell you 'she knew you had it in you'? And then she used very long words to explain how important it was that we treated you right. I'm still not sure if she threatened us with something, but in the end she just laughed. And then we hung up."

Mary's reaction didn't surprise me as previous discussions had showed me and my friends that she was extremely open-minded. But the 'you had it in you'-comment still made my thoughts spin. Was I really the kind of woman that could consciously decide to engage in a relationship with two men? The memories of what we had done along with the pleasant, humming ache I felt in my body proved that I obviously was the kind of woman that would go to bed with two men, be it a conscious decision or not. 

I tried to think what other people would say, finding no answers in my own mind, otherwise so helpful in finding solutions based on logical patterns. I hadn't thought about, read about or ever heard anyone talk about anything but the two person relationships that society called normal, be it homo- or heterosexual ones. But then again, relationships outside of the norm probably wasn't something you'd be able to read about in the financial papers, or something people would discuss openly at work, over a cup of coffee, was it? 

In full problem solution mode, I started thinking about how and where to find information to base my decisions on; there should be web sites, organizations, studies, shouldn't there?

I felt a warm hand caress my neck and shoulder and looked up once more, my eyes telling me what my body already knew, that Jerry was leaning in, caressing me and looking at me with a soft smile on his face.

"Don't overthink it," he said "just relax and enjoy."

But that was the thing, wasn't it? I wasn't really a 'go with the flow, spur of the moment'-kind of a person. Everything I did, all of my decisions, were at least based on a simple pros and cons list and most often had a much more solid foundation than that. Even my private life and my personal decisions were thoroughly planned.

Still silent I looked at the two brothers, not knowing how to communicate what I was thinking and feeling. They were looking worried, scanning my face for clues, wanting me to say something. I looked at Ben, keeping his hands far away from me, always careful not to intrude on my personal space, then at Jerry, his hand still on my shoulder, caressing my neck with his thumb.

I suppressed a hysterical giggle that wanted to float up to the surface as my mind began circling the same thought round and around - "the path of this righteous woman is beset on both sides by extremely attractive men". I shook the thought off and began formulating a plan; first step, tell the brothers something, to let them know some of my concerns.

"I'm not sure how to go on from here," I started "it's a very surreal situation, isn't it?"

I shook my head and looked at them, seeing their worried frowns.

"The truth is, I'm confused, worried and a bit afraid. How does this kind of 'thing' work? Are there any rules; is there something I should know?" I continued "Is this something that is kept a secret, a fun game hidden behind closed doors? Is it then a short term thing? And what happens if someone wants long term? What about love and family? What if three people suddenly becomes just two? What about my family, my friends, my life? What about your family, your friends, your lives?"

I stopped my quick flow of words, hearing a tiny note of hysteria in the last few sentences. Silence spread as the brothers looked at each other and then back at me again.

"I know just as little as you do about these types of situations," Ben answered "and I'm not sure I have any good answers, but as I see it every relationship is unique, with its own special success factors and its own set of problems. Trying to sort out the rules, finding a way to communicate is what you do in the beginning, isn't it?"

"I don't know much more than you do," Jerry added "but I do have a friend who lives with his wife and another man. They seem to have a good life together, but it's not something they talk about with people they don't know well."

"We talked some when you were sleeping," Ben continued "and we both realize it's early days yet, but it doesn't feel uncomfortable or strange, frankly I think it feels great. If we just try to get to know each other better, and talk about things, I think we'll find out some of the answers to those questions together."

"And I think that our physical reactions to each other speaks loudly too," Jerry added "and if that was all we had, that would still be enough to at least give this a try. And it isn't all we have, because we genuinely care about you and we don't want to see you hurt again."

I had thought of them as men of few words and was stunned by what they were saying. They seemed to have the same concerns as I did, but were more confident that everything was going to be ok. I still couldn't see the full picture, I still worried about the many ways this could cause any or all of us pain and above all I was worried about the way that other people would probably judge us. No matter how many years away from high school, the damned truth was that the need to fit in and the fight for acceptance and popularity never quite ended. 

I felt I needed some time alone, to be able to think things through, or at least to try to.

"I'm going to have a bath!" I told them, as I rose and walked away.

When I sank my body into warm, bubbly water minutes later I didn't have high hopes that it would be able to still my troubled thoughts, but I was hoping it would at least sooth my aching muscles. 

It's important to sort through what's important and what's not, I thought, beginning the slow process of cataloguing all of the facts. Other people's opinions weren't my primary concern, were they? The way I felt about it all had to be processed first. And how did I feel about it then? 

Remembering how a smile from Ben made me feel all soft and gooey inside, I smiled and realized I was perhaps half way in love with him already. But then I thought about the way a touch from Jerry could make me turn into a hot, trembling mess, but also that his touch was able to calm me in a way almost nothing had been able to do up until that point in my life. I was more than half way in lust with Jerry - that was an unchallengeable fact. 

My smile grew sad; sad because my mind was trying to follow convention, trying to make me find the one perfect match, making me see which one of them that would logically be the best choice. I let my mind follow the path it had started on, worried frown covering my face.

A life with Ben would be filled with good food and pleasant company, a loving relationship where everything was well organized but where every day would probably look exactly the same, with no room for surprises. A life with Ben would perhaps be as safe a choice as I could possibly make, but also maybe a choice that would grow boring in the end? But then again, safety was a high priority issue, wasn't it? To love someone and to be able to show your true inner self, that needed the comfort of a stable relationship with someone you could trust, didn't it?

A life with Jerry would be filled with hot passion, his need for closeness and caresses coloring every aspect of the day. I hadn't realized how much I thirsted after human closeness of that kind, my response to his tactile touch proving that I needed that perhaps just as much as safety and stability. But there was a risk that Jerry might think life with me was boring after a couple of weeks, wasn't there? All of that passion he had inside might make him burn strongly but only for a short period of time, and where would that leave me?

A life with both of them, the stability of Ben and the passionate nature of Jerry; one part stabilizing the other and vice versa, the idea of it still tickled me. After all thoughts of the one perfect man, my mind stilled in one crystal clear thought. The fact was that I wanted not just one, but both of them. The complex puzzle of my mind, body, spirit and heart seemed to settle with that very important notion and I could feel calm finally winding its way through all of me.

Perhaps it was true what Ben had said, that all relationships started out shaky, with a need to define the rules and set the boundaries. I really didn't have enough experience to know what that would actually mean even in a 'normal' situation, but I guess time would tell. With a small smile I thought about the way our interactions would make for a lot of interesting days or weeks in the near future.

I was still a bit worried about what other people would think, but a quick sort-through of those thoughts made me realize two things; my friends would all probably be happy for me; and my mother would probably collapse in a hysterical fit over the immorality of her no-good daughter. Both thoughts made me smile and sink further into the warm water, happy with my decision to give the whole loving relationship thing one more try.

* * * * *

I sat staring at Jerry as Susan left us, quickly walking away from a situation she seemed to now think undesirable or even disgusting. Perhaps she hadn't been fully awake and aware when we'd been in bed together. What if what we had done had somehow hurt her? Had we crossed a line that a carefully brought up, moral woman would rather die than cross?

I saw the worries of my mind mirrored in my brother's face. He was nervously biting one of his thumb nails; something I hadn't seen him do since our mother had died, leaving us alone with a grieving father at the tender age of nine and a half. 

Thinking about our mother's death and the way our father had struggled on with life, trying to create a stable home environment for the both of us, going about it in the only way he could think of, by finding us another mother, made me tense up. That part of our lives had not been a happy one, and was probably at least partly to blame for the way we both approached life and love; Jerry pretending that he didn't need deeper meaning, that casual, temporary flings made him happy; me being stuck in friendship or one-sided love stories, always opening myself up to people who could somehow sense that I was easy to manipulate, easy to use.

I stood up and started clearing the table; sitting around dwelling about the past wouldn't get us anywhere, would it? I smiled a short, wry smile realizing that I had turned to house work like I usually did when something worried me.

"You'd make someone a really good wife someday" Jerry said with a low voice, his standard comment to my nervous behavior not as full of good cheer as it usually was.

I just shrugged and continued cleaning up, storing left-overs in the fridge, quickly doing the dishes and then when I was all done, I just stood there leaning against the counter, staring down at my hands. What if she decided that she didn't want us? What if she didn't want me? What if she chose Jerry? 

I turned and looked at Jerry who was still sitting there by the table, still stuck in thoughts or perhaps memories, just as I had been. The pain that stabbed me when I thought of Susan perhaps choosing none or even just one of us made me realize I had more invested in this than I'd thought. The 'liking her' part that Jerry had been talking about was for me perhaps more closely related to love. It shouldn't really surprise me though; I had always been quick to fall in love, and mostly masked my affection by being friendly and making sure I didn't push my attention on the object of those affections.

Restlessness once again spread through my body; I had to find something to do, otherwise I'd sit there like Jerry, slowly going insane by all of my thoughts and emotions.

"Hey," I said to Jerry "let's finish up the last things in her bedroom, clean it up and move her stuff back in so she can sleep in there tonight."

Jerry seemed to shake his thoughtful mood off as he stood up, stretched and followed me. As we entered her room, I realized by Jerry's reaction that he hadn't been in there yet; his eyes caressing the lush jewel-colors of the walls, admiring the dark, shiny wood flooring and thoughtfully contemplating the storage area that I had built, shelves stained the same dark color as the floor and doors in the same vivid colors as the walls.

The room really only needed a few finishing touches; a few doors that were not yet attached, a final adjustment to the rest of them, making sure that everything was just right. Jerry took it all in, turned to me and nodded.

"Well done big bro," he said "I'll fix the doors if you'll go get the cleaning stuff."

Just half an hour later we were all done with the fixing and cleaning, had uncovered her bed and started carrying boxes from the unused spare room. You had to appreciate an organized woman, every box carefully labelled, showing us where it should go.

One box labelled sheets and curtains gave me a slightly wrinkled set of blue-green curtains that I decided to hang and a full set of shiny satin sheets, the same color as the curtains, which I handed to Jerry, for him to be able to make the bed.

I found three thick, soft rugs that I put by the sides of the bed and a thick, satiny, multi-colored cover that I put on it, with a smile and a shake of my head, as I tried to organize the many pillows Susan had in a way that would have made any interior decorator proud. 

Jerry had started opening the boxes labelled 'bedroom storage unit' and as I walked over to him I saw him freeze, a small item in his hand. He turned towards me, his eyes large and surprised. His shocked expression turned into a wide, wicked smile as he showed me what he was holding - one perfectly formed crystal dildo, the overhead light making it sparkle with small, multi-colored bursts of twinkling light. 

"Whaaat" I said, my eyes glued to the beautiful thing in his hand.

Jerry handed me the cold, glittering dildo and turned to the boxes again, his quick hands unwrapping the next item in the box, shoving me another dildo. He stilled his hands and turned to me, his face somehow covered by a strange combination of wicked joy and thoughtful worry.




Hunger Ch. 05



"What are the odds that these boxes all contain the same sort of things?" he asked softly.

"I don't know," I answered "but I think you should put these two back and let her unpack those boxes herself."

"Spoil-sport" Jerry muttered, but after looking one last time at the two beautiful pleasure items, he did as I said.

With one last look at her bedroom, I walked out of there shortly followed by Jerry, both of us physically leaving the boxed, hand-labelled treasure of Susan's, our minds still completely fixed on the idea of it, almost drowning in mental images of her pleasuring herself, lying on the smooth, cool sheets that Jerry had made the bed with, perhaps pressing her face into one of those pillows I had arranged, trying to silence scream after pleasured scream.

"Hell" I muttered as my body reacted fast and strong to the images my mind was conjuring.

"Right there with you" Jerry laughed, seeing or sensing what was happening to me.

We walked back into the kitchen, the restlessness in my body now mixed with sexual tension. I couldn't sit, but leaned back against the counter, staring down at the obvious bulge in my trousers, shaking my head at the thoughts that were now filling my mind; wonderful images of me teasing Susan, tickling her senses with one pleasure tool after another, pushing her into climax after climax.

Desire filled me to the point of pain as I started walking slowly towards the bathroom, arms and legs shaking from the need to hold and caress my woman.

I softly and silently pushed the door open to look at her, her head and neck barely showing above the surface of the bubbly water. I walked up to the side of the bathtub, fell down on my knees, pushed her hair back and leaned in to press a kiss to the side of her neck. As I let my mouth glide over her neck up to her face she lifted a wet hand to run her fingers through my hair and then leaned her head back slightly, opening her eyes to look me straight into the eyes.

"Ben" she whispered and leaned back in, pressing her warm, wet lips to mine; kissing me softly and gently. 

The pressing arousal that had forced me into the bathroom, was still present but very much gentled by the way she had carefully caressed and kissed me, the way her eyes were shining with something I didn't dare express.

A soft exhale from somewhere near the door made us part and I turned my face towards Jerry. I could almost feel the anxiousness that was radiating from his whole being. With three whispered words, Susan eased his worries.

"Jerry, come here" she said and held out her hand to him.

My brother didn't need much urging, but stepped closer and fell down on his knees beside me, taking Susan's hand and pressing a kiss to its wet surface, laughing softly as tiny bubbles tickled his nose.

"You should know that one of my secrets is that I hunger for one particular brand of ice cream; and just as I'm sure that the chocolate has to be accompanied by cherries, I have decided that Ben goes so very well with Jerry and that I hunger equally much for the both of you." she whispered with slow words, her voice vibrating slightly from some deep emotion.

My sigh of relief was accompanied by Jerry's and if I hadn't been sitting on the floor, that same relief would have probably sent me there, my body going from tense to relaxed in just a few seconds. I leaned my head against Susan's forehead, breathing out.

"Thank god" I whispered.

I felt Jerry moving beside me and looked up to see him standing up, starting to get undressed. I looked back at Susan, finding her eyes staring admiringly at my brother's body as he revealed it, bit by bit. I contemplated my feelings, finding surprisingly little jealousy swimming around in what seemed to be an ocean of attraction and love.

As Jerry carefully slipped into the tub, his body pushing water over the sides of it, I quickly stepped back and started removing my own clothes, pushing the heap of clothes further away from the tub and the watery mess we were bound to make - a two seat bath tub not being exactly dimensioned for the three of us.

I walked up to the edge of the tub, just as Jerry pulled Susan into his arms, leaving the space where she'd just been sitting empty for me to glide into. Warm water enveloped me slowly and I leaned back to enjoy what was happening in front of me; seeing Jerry kissing Susan's neck and shoulders, imagining his hands, hidden in the bubbly water, caressing Susan's butt, lifting and parting her butt cheeks, pressing her pussy against his hard cock.

With a groan I started rubbing my own eager erection, watching as Jerry started kissing Susan with hot open-mouthed kisses, seeing how Susan pressed her chest against Jerry's, imagining the way her hard nipples would feel gliding in soapy delight against my own chest. I saw Jerry lift Susan up and bring her down gently, in one slow motion seating her on his dick. He then lifted her up and held her still as he started pushing himself in and out of her in quick, deep thrusts, every push and pull sending both breaths of pleasure out of Susan's mouth and waves of water out of the tub.

I could feel my balls tightening and slight tingles running up my shaft, as I imagined how her pussy would squeeze my cock if I let her ride me, her strong, long legs letting her set a quick pace as she used me to find her own pleasure. I squeezed the base of my cock; my thoughts, the images I saw in front of me and the feeling of my hand bringing me ever closer to release. 

I watched the up and down motion of the couple in front of me and sensing that Jerry was close to the edge, struggling to keep going, I rose up on my knees and glided closer. Jerry saw me coming and nodded to me before he quickly lifted Susan up and to the side to hand her over to me. I lifted her up, my hands in the hollows of her knees, my arms supporting her thighs and in one smooth move I let her butt glide down my stomach before pushing my cock into the warm heaven of her sweet pussy, feeling her pulsate slightly around me.

Rising up to stand fully on my knees I pushed her forwards, forcing her to stand on her knees as well. I locked my hands around her hips and pushed her back and forth at the same time as I pressed my cock into her in strong, greedy thrusts. Realizing I wouldn't be able to keep that pace up for very long, I released my tight hold of her right hip, and pushed my fingers between her legs, swiping her hard clit with soft caresses until I felt her inner muscles squeeze my cock in a too pleasurable way. With a curse I handed her back to Jerry and rubbed myself until I came hard, spraying my seed into the water.

Through half-closed eyelids I saw Jerry push himself into Susan again, keeping her orgasm going until he lifted her off and came with a growl, hips high, his seed spraying the lower parts of her, before they both fell back into the water, completely sated.

I stepped out of the bath and started the shower, my aim to get us all cleaned up and straight into bed. As I stepped into the shower, I saw my brother and the woman we loved get out of the tub with stiff movements, following my example. One by one we showered and dried off, then aimed our tired but happy selves towards Susan's bedroom.

Her joy when she saw the finished bedroom and the way she told me she absolutely loved the storage space made me happy. But not as happy as when we finally lay down in the soft bed together and fell asleep in each other's arms.



Hunger Ch. 06



After that first wonderful weekend I knew my decision to open myself up to love and life had been the right one. We spent long hours talking about anything and everything; we ate the delicious food that Ben lovingly prepared; we caressed, massaged and touched each other every chance we got. My heart and soul swam in the warmth of feelings that were precious and new and my body gloried in the attention we all gave it. I was being nourished not just by wonderful comfort food, but by warm hugs, sweet caresses and beautiful lovemaking.

I hadn't realized exactly how much I'd been missing out on in my rather lonely life. I had convinced myself that my life was full and I everything I needed, beautiful art I could lovingly run my fingers across, music that filled up my senses; everything I'd been carefully collecting for so long.

Jerry made me realize that there was nothing more beautiful than the human body; the pure shape and feel of a living, breathing person made art seem bland and lifeless. Ben made me realize that the sound of a human voice, flowing like a soft caress or burning like hot fire, made music seem like overdesigned mathematical constructions. 

Not quite ready to give up my world of music and art, I experimented; finding that certain types of music could sharpen the feelings that the brothers generated in me. Soft, slow tones would also make for soft, slow lovemaking and quicker, sharper beats would make for more active, vigorous sex activities; and I loved it all. 

I found that a caress could feel different, depending on what part of your hands – or the rest of your body – you used, in what pattern and with what speed, the amount of pressure applied and a lot of other small but important things. The thought hit me that the softest part of any human body was nothing compared to the cold smoothness of some of the beautiful fabrics that I owned. After hunting down some of my most cherished underwear, scarfs and sheets a happy afternoon of exploring ensued. 

My thirst for knowledge about everything sensual and sexual knew no bounds, and both of the brothers were helpfully giving me all the information I could possibly need by simply showing me or by answering the questions I dared ask.

Ben had finally told me that they'd opened the boxes with my toys, and we spent some hours unpacking, storing and – yes – trying some of them out. In the end we all had our personal favorites but even Jerry had to admit that it would take more than one day to test all of them. When he solemnly swore he would get through them all – someday, Ben and I looked at each other and started laughing loudly at the very decisive, focused look on Jerry's face.

When Monday morning came I woke up as a new woman, rich from hundreds of new experiences, feeling warm and loveable in a way I had never done before. The urge to stay in bed for the rest of my life was strong, but a complete personality change doesn't happen over just one weekend. I still had a job to go to, and considering how much time the brother's had spent taking care of me they probably did too.

When I had showered and dressed in a gray skirt and blouse I was treated to breakfast, which I ate enthusiastically, pretending not to notice the brothers silently communicating with each other.

"You're not going to work, are you?" Jerry asked with a frown.

I nodded and continued eating.

"No you're not," Ben stated harshly "it's not safe! That man might still be hanging around, waiting to get his hands on you again!"

"You haven't recovered fully yet," Jerry said shaking his head "you should give it a few more days! Have you looked at your face today?"

I knew that it would be completely safe for me to go to work, but I had to agree that perhaps I wasn't quite as recovered as I thought I would to be. After taking one last long look at my colorful face I finally conceded and logged on from home to work my way through the most critical tasks. After a couple of hours of comfortably structured work I called my boss and we decided I would be back in the office by Wednesday; I was still "an important spoke in the well-oiled machinery of C&C Financial Management".

As I had done a couple of times over the weekend, I also made a quick call to Mary to see if she had any news about Rose, but she cancelled my call and when I called Rose there was no answer. I worried, but didn't really know how to help with a situation I didn't know that much about. I hoped Mary would call as soon as she could, as I had asked her to in messages, both spoken and texted.

After hours of productive work, now and then interrupted by thoughts of my lovely weekend, I yawned, stretched and laughed when I felt the ache in my stiff muscles. Allowing my mind to drift away for just a short moment, I realized that we hadn't spent any talking about the future. In fact, I didn't even know when I would see them again. I thought back to the two long kisses I had gotten as they said goodbye in the morning and with a smile and a nod I decided chances were good that I'd see them again that evening. 

I guess it wasn't really surprising when I feel asleep in the sofa some hours later, my exhausted body and whirling mind needing some time to regroup and recover. I slept for at least an hour before Ben woke me up as he slid into the sofa, lifted my head and placed it in his lap.

"Hey," I whispered as I righted myself and leaned in close, resting my head on his shoulder "how's your day been?"

"Productive but somewhat unfocused," he answered, keeping his voice as low as mine "this is a nick from a saw, when I started thinking about that green half-cup underwear thing of yours; and that blue nail there is from where I accidently hit myself when I started thinking about the many uses of silk scarfs..."

I laughed softly thinking about the way I had been interrupted by thoughts all day long. I guess sitting by a computer was a lot safer than handling tools or heavy machinery. 

I sat beside Ben in silence thinking about the short time we had known each other, the many things that had happened and how utterly safe and comfortable he made me feel. Those feelings of trust and friendship were now heavily mixed with large amounts of attraction and lust. I felt the first tingles of arousal spread through my body, heating my blood as I turned my face into his neck and pressed my nose to his neck to breathe him in. I kissed his neck and felt his body tense up, that lovely telltale sign that showed me that what I did affected him. Before I could kiss him once more he leaned back slightly to look at me, his eyes dark and a wry smile on his face.

"Umm," he said "as lovely as that feels I should tell you that Jer and I talked about some rules... about, you know... us and you... and well, you know... one on one time."

"Yes?" I asked, still wanting to hold and touch him, but keeping myself in check.

"And for now we thought it would be best to not engage in any ehh... activities unless all of us are present."

I laughed, my just recently discovered streak of wickedness urging me to test his resolve. Before I could quite literally throw myself at him, he jumped out of the sofa muttering something under his breath about brothers being late from work.

"I brought groceries, let's make some dinner" he threw back at me as he walked into the kitchen. 

I leaned back in the sofa, shortly enjoying the feelings of empowerment that Ben's reactions were giving me, quickly realizing that using that power without respect for his or Jerry's thoughts, opinions and feelings would go against everything I believed in. 

I helped Ben in the kitchen as much as I could, my inexperience limiting me to chopping vegetables and mixing a salad dressing. I watched Ben as he quickly made a dough, that he said would normally rest in the fridge for a couple of hours, then as he turned that dough into several round disks which he covered with seasoned tomato sauce, mozzarella cheese, salami and olives. 

The doorbell rang as Ben put the pizzas in the oven and I walked to the door to let Jerry in, just then realizing that he didn't have a key to let himself in with; one more 'how do we go on from here' thing we needed to discuss. Jerry gave me a quick hug and a kiss on my forehead before he took my hand and walked me back into the kitchen.

We talked and laughed our way through dinner, keeping the subjects as light and entertaining as the food was heavy and filling. As we cleaned up after dinner, I slipped in my resolve to keep to the mood light and told them I'd be going back to work in two days' time. 

The brothers were not happy about my decision and started making plans to match their work schedule against mine, so that I would always have one of them around for protection; like a poor defenseless child.

I stared at them as they were talking; realizing that I hadn't told them about the self-defense classes Mary had forced me to take when she heard about my early and late hours at work. The only reason why I hadn't defended myself against my co-worker was mostly because of shock, and also the fact that I thought the two big burly security guards would be able to stop him. I didn't need two new guards protecting me, making me go all passive and soft, I needed to buck up and take care of my own butt.

"Stop," I said, my voice loud and decided "I can protect myself, you know!"

Ben lifted an eyebrow and looked at me, doubt in his eyes. Jerry just reached out, touched the side of my face and shook his head.

I walked away with an annoyed huff and was followed by "but you must realize we only want to keep you safe" and "please let us help you" sentences all the way into my bedroom. Standing by my bed looking up at their pleading faces I decided that it would probably be best to show them. I took a hold of Jerry's hand and pulled him close and then flipped him over, making him land on the bed with a surprised little "whoa" sound. In a quick move I surprised Ben with a leg behind his legs and a slight push, unbalancing him and steering him so that he landed on the bed beside and partly across Jerry.

"I can protect myself!" I said and crossed my arms across my chest.

Ben got out of bed and reached out to help Jerry up. Jerry winced slightly, having been hit by one of Ben's sharp elbows. They looked at each other and then back at me, Jerry's face quickly covered by a wide smile. 

"Again!" Jerry said as he stepped closer.

I happily obliged by sidestepping him, kicking his legs from under him and pushing him back onto the bed. 

"It's disturbing how sexy that was" Ben whispered in my ear before he locked his arms around mine from behind, trying to restrict my movements. I let my body go slack, the weight of my body making him loose his grip, then quickly rolled away, turned and kicked his kneecap, making him fall to the floor with a muttered curse.

"I'm sorry," I cried as I crawled closer "I didn't mean to hurt you, not that badly anyway!"

"I'm ok," Ben answered his voice a bit rough from the pain "or I'll be in a minute or two. And I'm happy you aimed for my knee and not my groin..."

"But I think she proved her point kind of well; she doesn't need us to babysit her." Jerry told Ben, whilst trying but failing to suppress the laughter bubbling in his voice. 

With a grunt Ben got up from the floor, unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to the floor before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Now, I need someone to kiss this pain away" he said, turning an innocently smiling face my way.

I crawled up to him and in between his legs turning my face upwards to receive his warm, laughing kiss. After giving him that one short kiss I pushed away slightly and started kissing his knee, following the curve of his kneecap up towards his thigh, liking the way he tensed as my kisses searched their way ever higher and higher. 

"I bet you're sorry she didn't kick you in the balls now, aren't you" Jerry laughed as I stopped kissing Ben's leg, not sure how to go on from there.

"I don't really know how to..." I whispered "I've never..."

Ben pulled me up onto his legs and into his arms. He held me and pressed a kiss to my temple, his whole body telling me "it's ok, don't worry about it".

Jerry glided up beside us and looked at my probably sad-looking face, a thoughtful expression on his own.

"Do you want to play a game?" he said with a low voice "It's a version of ' Simon Says', where I get to tell you what to do to my brother."

I looked at him, trying to see if he was joking, but he seemed sincere. Thinking about it for a short while I realized that this was his way of making things less awkward for me, a way for him to teach me some of the things he knew, things that I quite frankly wanted to know. I nodded and stood up, letting him pull me in for a quick hug and kiss.

"Can we move one of your big armchairs in here?" he asked and when I nodded he motioned for Ben to come help him out.

The chair was swiftly moved to the bedroom and placed in front of the bed. Jerry explained he would be sitting there, giving us both – but mostly me – instructions. The first instruction he gave us was to get undressed. He kept his own clothes on; the chair and the clothes would make him stay in place and not get involved in the activities on the bed, he explained.

"Ben, lie down on the bed, on your stomach!" Jerry commanded.

With a shrug, Ben did what his brother told him to, placing himself back up in the center of the bed.

"Susan, climb up on the bed and just lie down on top of him for a short while and let his skin warm yours for a short while." 

I did as he said, letting my body glide up the back of Ben's body, placing my arms on his arms, my face on top of his head, my chest against his back and my legs on top of his, my feet not quite reaching his. The warmth of Ben spread across my cool skin and I realized that Jerry had somehow understood that I'd grown cold from uncertainty and perhaps even some parts fear. I felt myself grow calm and could then sense the tingles of arousal shooting through my body, raising the hairs on my body, making the parts of me that touched Ben buzz as if hit by electricity.

Closing my eyes, I pressed my face into Ben's hair, enjoying the tickling sensation and the smell of his shampoo, almost completely masking his own smell. The feeling of my body relaxing at the same time as it responded to his nearness by tensing was strange but very, very pleasant. I let myself sink into the signals my body was sending, intent on storing the moment away with all impressions intact. Who'd have known such a simple thing as just pressing your body to another person's, lying completely still, could make you feel so many things and so deeply.

I heard Ben's soft breaths grow faster with my increasing arousal and it made me wonder if skin on skin contact enabled communication in a way I didn't know of, my body somehow telling Ben's body of its reactions, synchronizing our passionate response.

Having completely forgotten about our puppet master, I was awoken from my thoughts by a laughing voice telling me to climb away from my oh-so-comfortable resting place.

"Stand on your knees, with your legs spread wide, your knees placed on the outsides of Ben's. Mmmm... that's right. Start kissing your way from his neck down the center of his back." Jerry said, his voice going a bit rough as he finished his speech.

I realized that my position on my hands and knees, legs spread wide, gave Jerry an interesting view to rest his eyes on and as I leaned in to press kisses to Ben's neck and back, I heard both of them hum in appreciation.

"When you reach his butt, crawl down some and swing your hair across his cheeks. Yesss... just like that!" Jerry told me with a low voice that again turned a bit ragged as I did what he said.

"Now, kiss first his left butt-cheek, then his right – slowly!" the instructions continued.

I enjoyed both the way my kisses made Ben tremble slightly and the way Jerry's voice shook as he asked me to continue, and to lick my way back up Ben's body.

"Let your nipples tickle his back as you lean in to kiss his neck. Mmm... just like that" Jerry told me, his voice as tense as Ben's muscled back.

"Now climb up higher and sit down on his butt, let him feel your pussy-lips..." Jerry almost choked out "... and then climb off and come here for a second."

As I walked the few steps to Jerry he told his brother to turn around and lie on his back. I almost felt the hot looks Ben were sending my way as I stood, trembling slightly, in front of Jerry. He reached out and stroked his way up between my thighs, aiming for my warm pussy. As his fingers found me wet and willing he groaned, separated my lips and rubbed his thumb across my clit, once, twice, three times before he gently pushed me away and pointed me towards the bed again.

Jerry had to clear his throat a couple of times before he continued his instructions, letting me know that he wanted me to sit far down, between Ben's feet and that he wanted me to gently trail my nails down the outsides of his brother's legs.

I did as I was told, and as I ran my hands downwards from the top of Ben's thighs down the full length of his legs, my eyes were fixed on the erection in front of me, no longer afraid of the idea of approaching it with my mouth, but quietly wondering how in the world I would be able to fit it all.

"Now, run your fingers softly up Ben's leg and let your thumbs caress the insides of his legs, slowly. And when you reach his balls, let your thumbs continue up, trailing their way all the way to the top of his dick." Jerry told me, his words a bit hurried.

I did what Jerry said, following his further instructions to climb up and sit down just below the kneecap of Ben's right leg and to kiss my way across his stomach, letting my hair trail over the straining erection below it.

"Now, make your tongue as wide as you can and lick your way from the base of his dick up to the top of it, softly." Jerry pushed out through gritted teeth.

I did that as he told me first once, then twice and then a third time, before Jerry found his voice again to give me another instruction. Ben was holding on to the bedcovers and his hips were rising towards my face, trying to reach my lips as I sat back slightly, listening to a half-whispered command.

I made my tongue thin and hard and started running it back and forth in a swirling pattern from the base of Ben's erection to the tip of it, then started running my tongue in soft circles around the glans and finally licking the slit softly, tasting the pre-cum collecting there, finding that I liked the slightly tangy, salty taste.

"Oh god," Jerry said with a low voice before continuing his instructions "use your right hand to lift his dick up, then open your mouth and put the top part of it in your mouth, just as far as it will go without it feeling uncomfortable. Once you get used to the feeling, start moving your head up and down."

At first I moved slowly, hesitantly but soon followed the speed that Ben was moving his hips in.

"Now, as you move your head upwards, suck the top of his dick, first softly and then increase the suction after a couple of motions, slowly working yourself up to suck almost as hard as you possibly can. Ben will let you know if it's too hard." Jerry said, his voice hoarse.

I continued my up and down motion, following Jerry's instructions; Ben's hands touching the sides of my face to signal that I should stop increasing the suction, his hips pumping up and down, helping me keep the speed that he needed. Finally losing some of his tight control, he grabbed my head and pressed his erection into my mouth almost making me choke, stroking fast and deep four, five, six times, before he pushed my face away and came in three quick, hard pulses, spraying his seed across his upper body.




Hunger Ch. 06



"Come here!" Jerry commanded with a tight voice.

With shaky legs I walked over to him, standing in front of him just like I had done just moments before. 

"Please unbutton my pants and pull my dick out." he said with a strained voice.

I did as he said, releasing him with shaking fingers, leaning in, thinking that he might want me to use the technique he had just taught me on him as well. Before I could start running my tongue across his straining erection, he lifted me up and flipped me upside down, forcing me to balance my arms against his thighs. With a low growl he pushed his face into my pussy, licking my lips and eager clit with strong, hard licks, having me vibrating with need within minutes. I gave no thoughts to his erection straining for my attention but was fully concentrated on my own pleasure until I felt Jerry rub the tip of it across my lips.

"Open up, love" he whispered between licks and when I opened my mouth he pressed himself into it, pushing in and pulling out, first slow but then with increasing speed, holding my head still with one hand and keeping my pussy pressed to his face with the other.

Through the haze of lust and my body climbing higher towards climax, I could tell that Jerry was pushing himself further and further into my mouth, until every second push hit the back of my throat. Every time my throat convulsed slightly from the pressure he sucked my clit into his mouth, the waves of pleasure washing away any thoughts of wanting him to stop what he was doing. As I came with a shout, he pushed himself into my mouth as deep as he could one last time before he pulled away, spraying his seed across my breasts and his stomach.

He turned me around again and I leaned my head against his still fully clothed shoulder. He rubbed my back as he silently tried to calm his heavy breaths.

"Sorry," he finally said "I hadn't quite planned for that last part. Did I hurt you?"

I shook my head at his question. He had actually been carefully in control, not brutal, not forcing himself beyond a point that I could actually take. I sat there silently thinking about what we had done; in just one evening he had managed to teach me that oral sex had several different flavors, from soft licks, to sucking, to passively receiving and probably lots of different interesting combinations of the three of them. I thought about the many different ways the brothers had taken care of my needs, realizing that the things they had done could probably be applied on them as well.

"I just want to add that all men, or at least most of us, love being given oral," Jerry said as he rose from the chair placing the both of us on the floor "and that you don't need to overthink it. Whatever you feel comfortable doing will be appreciated, I guarantee it."

He removed his shirt and used it to clean first me and then himself off, before removing the rest of his clothes and pulling me in for a long, warm hug. Once again he took my hand, a surprisingly loving gesture, and walked back to the bed with me. Ben was lying underneath the covers waiting for us and we quickly joined him, placing pillows behind our heads to be able to half-sit side by side.

"I think we need to talk about the future some." I started, wanting to get to the serious questions before getting caught up in pleasure again.

"We definitely want a future with you." Jerry answered with a smile.

I saw that Ben nodded his agreement as I looked from one brother to the other and then back again.

"But what does that mean?" I asked "That we'll meet up here every night for some happy grownup time? Will there be dates, dinners, movies or do we keep it a secret?" 

"I don't want to keep us a secret," Ben said with a low voice "I want to tell the checkout-girl at the grocery store; I want to call my kindergarten-teacher and tell her; I want to shout it across the world."

"I want to tell dad," Jerry interrupted "and that really says something."

Ben nodded again; looking decided but also a bit worried.

"I guess we should tell you about our father," Ben started "so you understand why 'wanting to tell dad' is really significant."

"Dad loved our mom about as much as you can possible love anyone," Jerry continued "his only goal in life to keep her happy. Our mother was a short, dark-haired woman, her Italian heritage as obvious as our father's Swedish ancestry. Physically they were completely mismatched, the big, strong Viking and the frail Italian flower. But their personalities complemented each other's perfectly; our mother's hot Italian temper soothed by calm matter-of-factness and large amounts of humor on our father's side." 

"When our mom died, some of the best parts of our dad seemed to die with her, most notably his calm and his sense of humor." Jerry added.

"And after years and years of bringing home new women, none of which he loved, just to give the both of us a good life with someone to love and care for us, he finally realized what he was doing was destructive and, well, wrong." Ben continued.

"And that's when he gave us a long lecture about life and love, told us to hold on to the people we loved and to stay true to ourselves." Jerry said with a slightly bitter laugh.

"And the speech ended with him telling us that he didn't want to hear about or meet any of our future women, not until we had found someone we loved as much as he had loved our mother." Ben ended the long explanation.

Processing what they had both said I realized what they were trying to tell me. 

"Whaaat?" I whispered with a puff of air "You...?"

"Love you," Ben whispered back "I know it's too soon, but this is stronger than anything I've ever felt before."

"And I haven't ever loved anyone," Jerry whispered, his face pressed to the side of my head "so I'm not sure how I should feel, but I can't stop thinking about you when you're not around and the thought of not being with you makes me feel sick to my stomach."

I recognized the 'can't stop thinking about'-part of his statement and the fact that I hadn't felt the 'sick to my stomach' feeling he described was possibly because I hadn't thought about not being with them since I made the decision to give the relationship a try.

Perhaps love was the bubbly feeling I felt inside when I looked at them, or the way I longed for them when they weren't around, or the way I felt the need to reach out and touch them whenever they were close? 

"I think, perhaps, I might be falling in love with the both of you as well." I whispered with a small smile on my face, at the same time as a single tear slipped down my cheek.

Laughter, hugs and kisses soon turned to heated caresses and another hour of lovemaking, before we fell asleep again, content with the idea of being three parts of one whole.

- - - - -

A couple of weeks passed by with several changes in my life and the way I approached my days and the people around me. My previously long workdays were shortened by me wanting to get home as soon as possible – my apartment being the natural place for us to meet up in. I started talking to the women at work, first carefully seeking out the two women who had helped me when I was attacked – thanking them for their help – then continuing with others that had been mistreated, gathering facts to present to the management team. I even sat down for coffee with some of them once in a while, feeling slightly uncomfortable but also happy to be a part of, even if it was still on the outskirts of, that group of women. I still had my moments of icy coldness, but I was more approachable and I smiled a whole lot more.

I could always count on the brothers to defrost me if I got too cold for their tastes on our rare, carefully planned outings. Ben would whisper something hot, sweet or entirely outrageous to me and Jerry would run his thumb across the center of my palm, my wrist, my neck or any other uncovered part of my body. They knew how to make me smile and laugh, how to make me soft and loving, how to make me shake in passionate need. I loved them deeply.

I had finally managed to get a hold of Mary, that one rare evening when I was home alone, the brothers having decided it was time to talk to their dad. I was nervous, because frankly I couldn't believe that their father would have anything to do with them after they had told him about our slightly less normal relationship. Filled with worries about my own life as well as the ever increasing worries for Rose, Mary's slightly hoarse voice as she answered her phone made me yell "finally!", making Mary laugh softly.

"I'm sorry I haven't contacted you," Mary said, her voice somewhat tired and strained "I haven't been feeling too good lately."

"What's happened?" I asked, adding Mary to my ever higher pile of worries.

"I wanted Rose to be happy, so I did something that made her take a decision that made her end up in hospital." Mary answered, her words quick and sad.

"You're saying that you think it's your fault she was hurt?" I asked, doubt coloring my words.

"I'm saying that what I did started a chain reaction I hadn't foreseen, and that she ended up injured as a result of my interference." Mary answered "Every time we all met her she was smiling at us, keeping up her 'I'm so happy' appearance, but I could tell that she was absolutely crying on the inside. I just wanted her to be happy."

"What did you do?" I asked.

"I wanted her to see that what's on the inside matters more than what's on the outside, so I sent her information about local meditation classes, yoga instructors and spiritual guides. Just basically anything that focuses on your inner self." Mary answered, her voice still sad.

"And you mean that is what you did; the thing you think is so bad?" I asked.

Mary didn't answer, so I continued asking her how Rose was doing, if she was ok.

"Yes, she's fine now," Mary answered "I can't tell you anything about her injuries though since she asked me not to. She said she'll tell you when she's ready to do so."

My mind was full with unanswered questions, wondering how our sweet Rose had been hurt, and – if I wasn't completely missing my mark – who had hurt her. Mary seemed to pull herself together and managed a change of subjects.

"Soo, how are you doing?" she asked "Still enjoying a happy life with two suitors shaking things up?"

"Yes, I'm enjoying myself, almost too much..." I answered with a wide smile on my face.

"I've met one of them actually, when I had my kitchen redecorated; dark hair, golden brown eyes." she said, her voice a bit happier "And I guess the other one is just as good looking?"

"Yes..." I answered, my cheeks turning pink.

"Well good," she answered "I'm happy for you!"

"I'm worried though," I told her "about what people will say. What their father will say."

Mary was silent for a short while before answering.

"I'm going to give you the short answer first and that is simply: 'Fuck the moral majority'. The longer answer is: life is too short to spend on worries about other people's opinions about what is wrong and what is right; and love is just too precious to waste. It's in our nature to be suspicious and even afraid of things and situations we don't know anything about. It's one of those age old protection mechanisms that everyone has; and if we let ourselves react instinctively without the added support of our superior brains, our reactions will be automatic – with everything from fear to hate getting sent to the surface. And as you well know, people are people, we thrive in groups and rely too much on our social, hierarchal structures – if the leader of the gang says something is wrong, then surely it must be."

Mary paused, giving me some time to think about the things she had said. 

"You can choose to live your life in two ways, either you keep your relationship a secret or you tell the world about it. If you choose the first alternative, it'll protect you from 'the slings and arrows', but it'll probably make your life just a little bit less full. If you choose the second one, you'll have to fight your way through a lot of preconceptions and suspicion, which might hurt your life just as much, or more. The best part about being open about your love might be that you can spread information about your life choice; and informed human beings are the best sort of beings there is."

"Wow, you've really thought about this, haven't you?" I answered, my voice shaking slightly.

"I can't stop thinking," Mary said with a short laugh "that's my biggest problem. You should spend an hour in my head, and all your worries would seem like a child's game."

I laughed with Mary, letting myself relax and talk about everyday things like the stock market, diminishing natural resources and a new boutique with luxurious lingerie that had opened just a week ago. Mary sounded a lot more like herself by the time we said 'Bye' and I felt so much more confident about my future. 

When the brothers finally stumbled, joking and laughing, into my apartment I could tell by their relaxed and smiling faces that their important sons-to-dad talk had gone well. And I felt in my heart that Rose's favorite sentence was true – everything was going to be alright.