2 comments/ 12917 views/ 7 favorites Pet Project By: bibivanholtz "Do not look at anyone. Do not talk to anyone. If you're unsure, you need only look to me for direction. Do not disappoint me, Pet." Over and over, those words replayed themselves in Pet's mind— a whole lot of instructions, but not a single word on what to expect. Surely being paraded around a room of perverts isn't that bad? Besides, Pet was in no particular rush to disappoint the master. The last fuck up that she made saw her handing from the rafters and standing on her tippy-toes. For hours. Like a trained Terrier, she's heard a lot of commands over the duration of the evening; things like sit, stay, speak. She'd been waiting to hear fetch, roll-over, and play dead for hours now. Woof-motherfucker-woof! The sharp tug on her nipples informed her that she might have said that last part out loud. Oops. But fuck, doesn't she deserve some sort of shame-outlet? She'd always been the type of person to make light of any given situation, so naturally she'd want to laugh at herself— lest she lose her sanity. She'd been kidnapped, beaten, and had vile things done to her body. What's one more thing piled on to the humiliation list? The scant clothing she was ordered to wear was quickly becoming the least of her problems at this point; like the chained nipple clamps that the master is using as a leash for instance. Those things fucking burn. So to prevent another painful tug, Pet kneeled at the master's side quietly while he enjoyed his dinner and chatted to the other perverts at the table. Kneeling next to her was a woman named Project who had quickly became her friend in a time of great confusion. Project was the master's pride and joy; if the way his eyes lit up whenever she was around was any indication. Although, it was funny that Project is here on the leash of another man named Ronan; the master's head of security or something or other. So many names, so many faces, so many orders to do this or that and Pet's head was absolutely swimming. Thoughts of her own commanding family came to mind and Pet just barely managed to keep the bubble of hysteria down— just barely. She wouldn't be in this position if it weren't for her bastard of an, in her mind, ex-fiancé. And her parents? Fuck them. Daddy Dearest would do anything to ensure his business deals worked out and Mommy Dearest would do anything to make Daddy happy, so they didn't protest to sending her to "obedience school." Meaning over the border and under duress, she received words of praise when she did well, but punishment when she fucked up. See. Like a trained Terrier. Once dinner had finally come to an end, Pet experienced a flash of panic when someone mentioned entertainment. Her eyes fluttered around the room and took in the stage area for the guests' viewing pleasure. Her body stiffened, her breathing became rapid, and sweat started to bead in the most uncomfortable of places. "Don't worry, Pet." The master's warm breath against her ear caused her to jump. "You won't be performing tonight." But despite this information, she couldn't calm her racing pulse. Performing? What the fuck does he mean by performing? "Come." The command came with a sharp tug and the master led her to a chair in direct view of the stage and the rest of the room as well. She was about to kneel down as he took his seat, but found herself pulled onto his lap instead. Embarrassment burned her cheeks as he positioned her legs on either side of his and pulled her down until her back rested against his chest. Nothing like being spread eagle in crotch-less panties. The cool air against her sex wasn't helping as she burned with shame— you could ask anyone who truly knew her; words like puritan or prig were understatements when it came to describing her when it came to anything sexual. Women's lib and all that. It's ironic that she had always refused to be nothing more than a sexual object to any man, but just look at her now. Obedience school, indeed. She thought bitterly as she watched a contraption— worthy of center stage in any torture chamber— was rolled out. It sort of reminded Pet of a guillotine on stilts, minus the blade of course, and instead of a flat platform it looked like two side by side padded sawhorses. Pet was absolutely stunned as Project was lead on stage by Ronan, followed by Faolan, Conall, and Kelan; the rest of the master's security team. What the fuck? "You see, Project was such a good student during her training, offering her complete submission that I decided to keep her for myself. Do you think that sort of gift is common nowadays?" Unsure if that was meant to be a rhetorical question, Pet didn't answer. She'd just managed to control a shiver when the master chuckled deeply in her ear. "You are here, Pet, because someone in your life felt that you needed to be disciplined. My Project is obedient to a fault, just like you will be. Now you, like many other strong willed women, might be thinking: if Project is yours, why is she here with another? Well, she is here with another because I commanded it so. Project will do as I say, regardless of what it is and you will learn to do so as well." The playful air that the master was putting out, quickly left him in his next words, "But if you refuse to learn, I'll just beat it out of you." Disgusting. The lot of them. So, Pet bit her tongue hard enough to taste blood and said nothing, keeping her eyes forward and trying to ignore the master's growing hard on under her— a hard on that only appeared once Project's ass started getting paddled on stage. The woman was bent over one side of the contraption, moaning loudly as all four men with individual paddles took their turns at unleashing their wills on the woman. Pet watched in part horror and part fascination as Project started undulating as if begging for more. "Keep your eyes on my Project." The master said with a tone full of pride. "You might find that you enjoy what you see." Project took blow-after-blow and the woman's face was a look of intense pleasure; Pet was stunned when she heard the woman's soft chanting of 'pleasepleasepleaseplease!' What was she asking for? Pet thought to herself. Is she saying please stop? Please more? Please what? Her inner thoughts were interrupted as she felt the master's hands start to caress her. A flutter of heat started to grow in her belly that she struggled to ignore. I cannot possibly be turned on by this! This is wrong. Forbidden. Taboo. Wasn't it? Well, if that's the case then goodbye prude, hello slut-puppy. Pet could not deny that her reluctance was melting faster than her cunt could drip. Paddling now done, the flutter grew into a fury of sensations as Pet watched the men position Project on the contraption. Kneeling with her legs strapped to each of the padded sawhorses, leaving Project to support her weight completely on her shins. Naked and spread eagle with her arms stretched high and secured above her head. Project, despite the blindfold she was now wearing and her body tighter than a bow string, looked blissed-the-fuck-out. Pet's pussy started to cream when Faolan and Conall took either side of Project; the men lavishing attention on each breast. From where she sat, she could see Faolan suckling Project's right nipple while Conall was giving teasing flicks of his tongue to her left. Pet startled when the master started showing some T.L.C to her own. What started out as a candle flame quickly turned into a raging inferno when the master removed the nipple clamps; rubbing her tender peaks and she had to fight the moan that threatened to leave her. I cannot be turned on by this! She mentally shouted at herself. Oh, but the man started to flick and tweak her nipples with a slow intensity that had Pet dripping in her crotch-less panties; her hips moving at their own volition. She dropped her head back against his shoulder and closed her eyes at the feeling. Pet opened her eyes to turn back to the stage and gasped at the show that Project was starring in. Faolan and Conall were still licking and sucking, but Kelan and Ronan had joined the party. Ronan was eating her pussy like a starving man with a one track-minded fervor, while Kelan was licking at Pet's forbidden bud— four men, four places of pleasure, and one lucky bitch. But damn what a sight they made. Pet nearly frowned at her thoughts, but instead gave in to what the master was making her body demand. She nearly shot off of his lap when she felt a finger against her clit and she moaned in arousal. "Look around the room, Pet." The master whispered softly. Pet opened her eyes distractedly to follow his command and noticed that other masters were also engaged in different degrees of sexual acts with their subs. Pet also noticed that there wasn't a single set of eyes that weren't riveted to what was happening in front of the room. Wicked thoughts started to filter through her mind. What would it feel like to be in Project's place? What would it feel like to receive that much stimulation all at once? Delicious? Decadent? Intense? Overwhelming? Project. Oh, the woman was truly beautiful. Petite. Slender. Soft. Pet started to wonder what Project's sex would taste like. Would she be as sweet as she looked? Images of her face buried in Project's snatch overtook her as she moan at the feel of the master rubbing at her swollen clit. "That's it, Pet." He crooned to her. "Just let yourself go." "Please! Please, Sir! Please, may I cum?" Project shouted, drawing Pet's eyes back up front. She chanted the words, begging, and pleading. Ronan had spoken softly, not loud enough for Pet to hear. Suddenly, all four men sipped at Project's body at a frenzied pace, Ronan had pushed two fingers into Project's cunt; thrusting hard while still wildly licking at her clit. Project's body went absolutely still. And it seemed the audience had taken a collective breath and held it; as if waiting for some grand finale. Just as the master gently brought Pet to her release, Project exploded— violently. Her movements jerking, head thrashing as she tried to fuck the faces both in her pussy and her ass, while trying to push her breasts closer to the men suckling at her. She screamed loudly, in absolute abandon. Without warning, Project's body started to gush with liquid; soaking Ronan who had lifted his face from Project's clit, now thrusting his digits into her body at a lazy pace. The men petted and caressed Project's body, bringing her down from her release. Pet panted weakly, overwhelmed from everything and whispered, "Thank you, Master." *.*.* Project stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. She absentmindedly dried herself off, completely lost in her thoughts. Over the years, this house had become her home and the man whom the house belonged to had become her lover, her best friend, but most importantly her Master. He always provided everything that she needed. Well, in truth, she didn't have a single want or need in the world— all thanks to Master. Before he found her, she had been kicked out of the system with no family, nowhere to go, and no means to survive. Many of events had taken place that caused Project to land in his possession. In the beginning, she had been terrified of the brooding man, but quickly learned that her obedience and her ultimate submission would get her everywhere. Project hung her towel back on the rack and went to her vanity. She didn't dress herself since Master had not given her any instructions to do so. Picking up her hairbrush, she started to take care of her wild locks. "Good afternoon, Project." A shiver made its way down Project's spine at the sound of Master's voice. She placed her hairbrush down on the vanity and turned to where he stood in the doorway of her bedroom. She presented him a large smile. Without instruction needed, Project stood and padded to him on silent feet. As she approached, she couldn't help but run her eyes over his delicious frame. Master is very tall compared to Project; at least 6'3" with a wide and muscular build to him. His size plus his rugged features make him an imposing figure indeed— and Project was in love with every single inch of him. Kneeling once she reached him, she placed her hands in her lap, lest she reach for him without permission. "Good afternoon, Master. I missed you." And she truly had. She knew that Master was a very busy man and wasn't always able to spend his entire days with her. She had seen him last night, but she had attended the event with the head of Master's security, Ronan, because Master was still training Pet. Master ran his fingers through her slightly tangled hair before resting his palm against her cheek. Project couldn't help but close her eyes and nuzzle him, loving the contact, craving his warmth. "Come." He said as he drops his hand from her cheek and held it out to her. Project did not hesitate to place her hand in his. She would follow him into hell if he asked her to. He led her back to the vanity that he had provided for her and guided her to sit with her back to his front. Project looked down at all the things that Master had provided for her that are sitting atop the vanity, like neutral colored make-up, light perfumes, and jewelry— things that she didn't have before she came to be with him. He picked up her brush and started to gently brush away the remaining tangles from her hair. "Look at me while I do this, Project." "Yes, Master." She lifted her gaze to his and held it. Her breath caught as she watched his movements; the way he took care to not hurt her as he brushed her hair tenderly. Oh, how she loved him so. They were silent for a long while as he took care of her and that was okay. She always enjoyed every moment that she could have with Master. "Project, did you enjoy the party last night?" He asked distractedly. "Yes, Master." She answered him in a soft voice. She had been very surprised when Ronan had retrieved her last night instead of Master. Master had never left her in the hands of any of his men before, especially at one of his gatherings. Of course she did as he commanded, but it was certainly out of the ordinary. Despite her confusion, she knew that Ronan was only there on Master's orders and she had acted accordingly. "Good." He said as he put her brush down on the vanity and placed both hands on her bare shoulders. "You deserve a reward for performing so well, Project." "Thank you for brushing my hair, Master." Project said as she covered his hands with her own. "And I will be very grateful for anything you decide to give me." "Good girl." Master said tenderly before steeling his voice. "Go to your spot." *.*.* The petite woman made her way slowly to her spot next to the bed and Quinn knew she was fighting the urge to run there. His Project was always so zealous for both her punishments and her rewards. On graceful legs, she sank to her knees and placed her hands upon her lap. He waited for a moment to see if she would correct herself, but she did not. The thought to reprimand her came to mind, but decided against it. He knew it was because she was too excited for him. He tsk'd at her and shook his head. "What do we do with our hands, Project? You should know better than that." He knew the moment she realized her mistake when color crept its way over her cheeks. Her body slumped slightly as if disappointed in herself before she straightened and made the corrections. So beautiful, his Project was. He thought back on the eighteen year old girl who came into his care a few years ago; shy, wide-eyed, modest, and full of anxiety. Now in her place was a woman who had grown confident and eager right before his very eyes. Quinn ambled across the room and opened the top drawer of Project's dresser— his drawer to be exact, that held various toys, lubes, and other instruments to choose from. He pulled out the things he would need and made his way back to where Project patiently waited for him. Placing the items on the bed, he stood before Project and ran a hand down her cheek again. Satisfaction swept through him when she nuzzled against his palm with her eyes closed— something she always did. He allowed her to soak up his form of affection before taking it away. "You know what to do." He stated simply. He watched as Project slowly unzipped his jeans and carefully pulled him out of the restraining material and sat back on her haunches, putting her hands behind her back once again. "May I taste you, Master?" She asked him in a soft voice. He almost smiled at that moment. She knew better than to take initiative without asking first. "Yes, you may." Despite his permission, Project simply rose higher on her knees and opened her mouth. Good girl, Quinn thought as he tangled one hand in her hair. "Tongue out, Project." He said gruffly as he gave her a weak tap on her jaw in reprimand and she obeyed him immediately. Taking his cock in his free hand, he traced the tip against her tongue letting her have a small taste of him. He could feel more than see the slight strain of her body fighting to get closer, knowing she wanted more. He continued to tease just the tip of his cock against her tongue, while holding her head in place. Once he felt that was enough, he plunged himself past her lips and straight to her throat. He didn't give her time to adjust to his size and he set almost a cruel pace. But he knew that's what she truly wanted— because above all else, Project wanted to please him. In and out he slid his dick, watching as saliva started to drip out of her mouth and onto the floor. He had trained her not to gag long ago, but she still couldn't help tearing up whenever she took him to the root. He allowed her that, because he found the sight of her tears and spit flowing unchecked to be extremely erotic. He also trained her to keep her eyes on him at all times and his Project never disappointed. He plunged himself deep and stayed there, closing his eyes to the sensation for a moment before pulling out again. Without a sound or protest, Project took whatever he gave her. Over and over, he alternated between fast and slow, shallow and deep, until he felt she had enough. He could have allowed himself to cum at that moment, but he did not because he relished the feeling of pain— no matter what form it came in. "On the bed." He commanded without further instruction. She knew what was expected of her. Project did so; cautious of the things that he had placed there earlier. He would have tanned her ass if any of the items had fallen to the floor. Arms stretched above her head, hands gripping the bars of the metal headboard and knees bent splayed wide open to him; she was certainly a sight to see. He slowly walked around the bed, running his hands over her in the slightest of touches; her nipples puckered, goose bumps rose over every inch of her body, and already her sweet pussy glistened with desire. Around and around he went, avoiding all of her erogenous zones. He wanted her in a state of painful arousal. Stopping at the head of the bed, he reached over the short metal headboard and lightly placed the fingertips of both his hands on the outside of her hips. He slowly ran his fingers from hip to wrist, testing her urge to squirm against the ticklish sensations. Back and forth, up and down, over and over again he did this and Project did not disappoint. After a few minutes, he changed his course. Instead of her sides, he did this on the front of her body— from her soft mound, over her belly, between her breasts and up to her neck. Her breathing changed, her body stiffened, but no matter how ticklish he knew her to be, she did not move nor did a single sound escape her. So much discipline he taught his Project. After at least twenty minutes of this, he finally stopped. "Very good, Project. You may moan all you want and you may close your eyes while I pleasure you from this point on as a reward, but you may not move. Understood?" Pet Project Her body relaxed as he removed his hands from her and she took a deep breath before answering. "Yes, I understand and thank you, Master." "Why are you thanking me, Project?" He questioned. He needed to be sure that she knew why. After all, how can she be truly thankful, if she didn't know what for? "I am thankful that you placed your hands upon me, Master, and for giving me permission to moan and close my eyes." She said in a breathless tone. Quinn said nothing, but was extremely pleased at her response. Yes, my Project most certainly is grateful. He grabbed the bottle of flavored lubricant sitting on the bed and poured some straight onto her sensitive nipples, not bothering to warm it first; he knew the cold liquid would be a mixture of pleasure and pain. He closed the bottle and put it back on the bed. He ever so lightly teased both peaks with just his index fingers. Project moaned softly at first, but grew louder as he increased the intensity of his touch— from around her areolas to her stiff peaks, all the while not moving. Quinn stopped time and again as soon as Project nearly came just from the nipple-play and she slumped into the bed. But fuck, she is just so fucking responsive, he mused and one side of his lips quirked upward ever so slightly at the thought. Once again, he did this until he felt she had enough. Project had fallen silent the moment he stopped, but cried out as soon as he took one stiff peak into his mouth followed by a chained clamp. He did this on the other as well. He completely removed his touch, sitting at her hip and simply gazed upon her face; allowing her to calm down. He did not want her to reach her satisfaction the moment he touched her dripping sex. After a few beats, Project opened her eyes and returned his stare. He warmed at the trust shining within those brown depths and didn't feel the need to fill the silence with all that whispered-sweet-nothings bullshit. "Thank you, Master." She said softly after she caught her breath and he simply nodded in response. He allowed her a few moments before he felt it was time to continue. Grabbing the device that he had bought just for Project, he angled himself on the bed so that he was in perfect view of her moist center. So pink and wet, Quinn nearly groaned at the thought of taking her, but he wouldn't. He had plans for Project and it didn't involve him fucking her so soon. Taking the micro-bullet vibrator that was smaller than a pinky nail, he maneuvered it so that the bullet sat snugly under her clitoral hood. "Don't move, Project. If this gets dislodged, I'm going to punish you." He warned. "Yes, Master." Quinn turned on the vibrator at its lowest setting and Project immediately moaned. He already knew her body better than she did and just how much she could take before reaching her release. While it will still feel good, it won't be enough to let her cum. He waited for a few minutes, before changing it to one setting higher— a staccato beat, low enough so not painful, yet strong enough to bring her just to the brink. The vibrations will pulse under her clitoral hood and set to abruptly stop, before continuing the cycle all over again. Project was breathing heavily and moaning in need and frustration. He could see the strain in her body, torn between moving, yet determined to following his orders. "You may not come and you may not move until I return, Project. You may move when I allow you to come." "Y-yes M-mmaster." She choked out. Satisfied, Quinn left her there keening. He wanted her good and fucking ready. *.*.* He left Project there for nearly an hour before returning. When he stepped into the room, her body was glistening with sweat, her eyes screwed tightly shut, sobbing and keening in absolute need. Quinn stepped around to view her cleft which— to his pleasure— was swollen and oozing with her essence; a puddle had formed under her. He took a deep breath and filled his lungs with the scent of Project's arousal. Taking hold of the controller, he changed the setting of the vibrator to one stronger. "Cum. Now!" He demanded and she immediately obliged, her body bowed completely; leaving just her head and her feet on the bed— going over the edge with a force that shocked him. He removed the bullet from her and used his hands to slowly bring her down from her orgasm. Her body was visibly shaking so strongly that her teeth were chattering. "P-please, M-mmaster." Project begged. "You asked so prettily, Project. What do you want?" "You, Master. Please, just you." Project's words felt like a punch to the gut, making Quinn feel possessive. Completely fucking feral. Primitive. Primal. The way she had performed with his men last night had left him feeling an urgency so fierce to reassert his dominance over her— to show her who her body belonged to. He removed his clothing at a quickened pace and immediately settled himself between her thighs. "Mine." The guttural growl escaped him as he forced his dick into her in a single rough thrust. She screamed at the intrusion. Her legs came around his waist and her pussy walls clenched him tight, as if refusing to let him leave her body. Quinn gripped her hips in a way that will most definitely leave bruises— another way to mark her as his. The scents of her sweat and arousal, the sounds of her screams and the slapping of skins drove him wild. He flipped her onto her hands and knees, ignoring her yelp of surprise. He gripped her hair, snatched her head back, shoved his cock back into her sheath, and pounded into her ruthlessly. Project bucked wildly beneath him and her sex clenched him in a punishing grip as she reached her climax. The familiar tingle crept up his spine and his balls drew up. His pace quickened. He fucked her like a rutting beast. He fucked her like he hated her. Without losing his pace, he leaned forward and bit into her shoulder hard enough to break skin. At the first taste of her blood, he came with a deafening roar. As the last of his hot seed spilled into his Project, he was just barely able to maneuver them to the side so that he did not land on her. With his softening cock still in her body, he pulled Project tightly into his arms. "I love you, Master. Thank you." Once side of his lips quirked up ever so slightly. Yes, he thought just before sleep claimed him, my Project is grateful indeed. Pet Project I looked down at the sheets near my pillow and pulled at some tiny fuzz. I didn’t want to look at her when I said this. “It was our minister.” Tanya whooped. “A minister?” She threw a pillow at my head, but I didn’t return it. She saw I was serious, and said, “I’m sorry, Sherry. But a minister? You have to admit…” “He was a visiting minister,” I said softly, “and I was working with him on a Saturday, setting up the altar and pulpit for his guest sermon. My regular minister had asked if I would help him. But I never guessed he would be so gorgeous, and so young.” “What did he look like?” “He had deep, dark eyes, and wavy black hair,” I said dreamily, and began to lie on my back, hugging my throw pillow to my chest. “He was about a half a foot taller than I was, maybe 24 or 25, and when we went to work on the flowers he rolled up his sleeves and I could see how muscled his forearms were…” “Did anything happen?” Tanya asked. “Oh, heavens, no!” I said. “But I kept thinking how I wanted it to. Afterward, I kept thinking about him, about how we were alone back there, and…” I shook my head. “But that’s wrong,” I said. “I always eventually stopped myself. It was wrong to think like I did.” “Sherry, Sherry, Sherry…” Tanya said. “There’s nothing wrong with fantasizing. You have to let yourself go…” “How about you?” I asked. “How old were you when you first…you know…?” “Fucked a man?” “Tanya!” “That’s what it is, Sherry,” Tanya said. “You’re going to have to get over being so frightened of saying it.” “But it’s just not right…” “Yes it is, Sherry. It is what it is.” Tanya settled back against her pillows. “My first time happened quite some time ago. It’s almost funny, how it happened.” “Why?” “It was the cable TV guy,” Tanya said. “How clichéd is that? I mean, except for the milkman or a traveling salesman, I think I get the prize for non-originality.” “So how did it happen?” “Well, my mother had arranged for all of us to be home when the cable guy showed, but one by one they all had commitments: first my dad had problems at work, then my mom had a flat tire, and my brother had a chance to be with a cheerleader, so he crapped out at the last minute. He swore me to secrecy not to tell my parents. “When the repairman arrived, he looked terrific: open necked blue cotton shirt, strong build, good looking…I greeted him at the door in my school clothes, ran to my room to get changed, and came out about five minutes later in a halter top and tight short shorts.” I couldn’t believe I was hearing this story. It went contrary to everything I had been taught. But it was like a car wreck: I couldn’t look away. “So…you seduced him?” “And how,” Tanya said, grinning. “I was only about 15. I didn’t know anything about subtle clues. I bent over, brushed up against him, complimented him on his strong chest—I threw myself at him! He must have been about 20…and in about five minutes he had every stitch of my clothing off—not that there was that much of it.” The scene she described was scarcely within the powers of my imagination. There she was, young and fresh, naked in the arms of a strong, good-looking older man. “So…you made love to him?” “I don’t think it was love,” Tanya said, giggling. “He did me every way you can think of for the next fifteen minutes. I felt like a top…first we were standing, then I was on my back on the couch, then I was bent over it…” “Oh my god.” “He finished with me on my hands and knees on the floor…he came all over my back, and just at that instant I heard my mother’s car in the driveway. I ran back to my room, cleaned myself up, and put on long pants to hide the raw spots on my knees.” “What did he do?” “I have no idea,” Tanya said. “I never saw him again. Some romantic moment, huh?” I lay there, wide-eyed at the idea of it all. “Were you all right?” “I was scared to death. We never used any protection, and I was sure I was going to get pregnant.” “But you said he…” I hesitated…”came outside of you.” “It didn’t matter. He had been in me for 15 minutes. I could easily have gotten pregnant, but I didn’t. I was just lucky.” “Oooh,” I said. “Were you upset? It sounds like it was hard on you.” “Upset?” Tanya shook her head. “It was one of the best experiences of my life. The passion, the lust…he took me so forcefully, so eagerly, I thought I was in heaven. I’d never felt anything like it.” “But when he…came on your back?” “It didn’t matter. I had made a man come. He had taken me, used me for his pleasure, and filled me. Where he came didn’t make a bit of difference. I had driven him crazy, made him an animal, and he used me as his toy. It felt terrific.” “Oooh,” I said, filled with a strange mixture of revulsion and longing. “I just don’t know…I always expected there would be romance, and flowers, and moonlight…” “Sure, sure,” Tanya said flippantly, “and there will be. Someday. I’m not knocking romance. But there’s nothing like getting the bottom knocked out of you once in a while.” I felt such a curious rush of emotions as I heard this. Tanya’s flippant attitude about sex was against everything I had ever heard from my parents, but there was something about it that made me stir inside. I wanted to hear more somehow…against my better judgment, I wanted to walk down this road a bit longer. “Has it always been good?” I asked. “Do you regret any times you were with one guy or another?” “Oh sure,” Tanya said. “But I wouldn’t give it up just because there’s a rotten apple every now and then. Just keep plugging away.” I found myself compelled to go on. “Who were your best? You know, the guys that really turned you on?” “Oh, there have been a few,” Tanya answered. “My, but is the room getting hot in here?” I had to admit it did feel hot. “You can’t be asking me all these questions tonight…” Tanya said, fanning herself with a stuffed bat. “I expected to go out with Kyle tonight, and if he doesn’t call soon I am just about ready to explode.” But I didn’t want to stop. I felt like a floodgate had been opened, and I wanted to know it all, everything I had missed in my 18 years, right now. “What about Kyle?” I asked. “Is he good? Is he special in any way?” Tanya flopped back on her pillows again. “Oh!” she said. “I believe I will go crazy if I talk about this any longer…” She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them. “Kyle is wonderful,” she said dreamily. “He is a prince among men.” “Why?” I asked. Tonya shifted on her bed, lying sideways now on her left side, facing me. She closed her eyes as she spoke. “Well, he’s strong, and good looking, and very cut…” she formed a ‘V’ with her hands. “He’s also extremely considerate, and skilled, shall we say, in the oral arts.” “Hmmm…” I said, though I wasn’t really sure what that meant. I assumed it was kissing. “And he’s hung like a horse.” Normally, I would have been shocked at a statement like this. Tonight, it only made me rub my knees together, briskly. Somehow, this seemed to relieve for a moment the aching I felt in my loins. “How big is he?” I asked, not believing the words had left my mouth. Tanya held her hands apart about nine inches. I was shocked. That was like no statue I had ever seen. “And thick,” she said. “But that isn’t even it. It’s how he uses it, and how he uses his mouth…I feel like I’ve been fucked thoroughly even before he enters me.” I found what she said shocking, but I couldn’t protest. I was made dizzy by this new world I was entering, but I was mesmerized by its power, and its appeal. I was held captive by her. “Wow.” “Wow, indeed,” Tanya said, and she flipped on her back again. “Oh!” she said. “I think I am about to go crazy.” “I wonder if any of this will ever happen to me.” I said, as much to me as to her. “It will,” Tanya answered. “You just have to shop around.” “I don’t know how.” “Stick with me. I’ll teach you.” “I just don’t know.” Tanya rolled on her side, propping up her head with her hand, her elbow supporting her. “You will. You just have to learn to take control.” I thought about this. “Take control?” I said. “How do I do that?” “You learn to experiment a bit. Try things out. Don’t be afraid to make a mistake now and then. You need to get out there and play the field.” “You think?” I said. “I know. You need to get out there and get some experience. Learn a bit. Find out what you like. You need to know what’s out there before you commit your life to someone.” “I…I guess,” I said. “Think about it,” Tonya said. “Would you buy a car before you’d never learned to drive?” I thought about it for a moment. “Can’t he drive?” “Oh, girl, girl,” she said. “Sherry, you have to get away from that kind of thinking. You can’t count on a man to make you happy. Most men only think of themselves. You have to teach him to take care of you.” I took another small sip. I was getting a strange, fuzzy feeling, as if my face were aglow. “What do you mean?” I asked. “What does taking care of me mean?” “You know…coming,” Tanya said. She must have seen the look on my face. “You know, an orgasm. Men don’t know anything about your orgasm.” I put my hand in front of my mouth without even realizing it. Tanya looked at me and her eyes widened in amazement. “You’ve never even come, have you?” she said, shocked. “You’ve never had an orgasm.” I shook my head, hiding my eyes. I couldn’t believe I was talking to her about this. I was too ashamed to even look at her. “Amazing!” she said. “Where have you been, Sherry? Under a rock?” "I was home schooled," I said. “Girl, you don’t learn this in school,” she said. “This you do yourself.” “You mean…” I said, barely able to mouth the word, “ma…mastur…” “Masturbate,” Tanya said. “It’s not a dirty word. Say it. Masturbate, masturbate, masturbate, masturbate…” “Tanya!” I said. “Sherry,” she said, charging ahead right over my protest. “This is the very basis of who you are sexually. This is the root of it all. If you don’t know how to make yourself come, how do you expect him to?” “But we shouldn’t even be talking about this…” “The hell we shouldn’t. Sherry, you have to learn. If you feel bad about this, you’ll never get anywhere. Sex isn’t dirty, Sherry. Sex is just sex. And the sooner you learn to treat it as just another part of your life, like brushing your teeth, the sooner you’ll find how happy you can be.” “Okay, okay,” I said. “I’ll buy a book…” Tanya laughed out loud. “Ever try to learn to swim from reading a book? No, you have to do this by hand.” She chortled. “By hand. How right that is.” I groaned. “I just never talked about anything like this before.” “Look,” she said, “it’s just a thing. That’s all. It’s nothing shameful or evil. But it’s just something you have to know, and you can’t go around avoiding it and expecting everything to turn out just like a storybook. Things just don’t happen that way.” “All right then,” I said with a sigh. “Tell me.” “Well,” Tanya said, and her voice sounded kind of kittenish, as if coming from a playful young girl, “it’s kind of different for each girl. But it all comes down to not being afraid to feel good. Once you get over that hurdle, you’ll feel better than you ever have in your life.” “Really?” I said. “How can it be that good?” “Try it and you’ll see.” “Try what?” “Touch yourself,” Tanya said. “Slide your hand between your legs…” “Oh!” I said without thinking. “I just don’t know…” “Look,” Tanya said. “We’re roommates. Nothing leaves this room. It’s okay. Just try it. You won’t believe how good it feels.” “I just don’t…” “Okay,” Tonya said. “I’ll prove it. Watch me.” And with that, Tanya lay back against her pillows, slid her t-shirt up, exposing some of her perfectly flat tummy, lifted the elastic of her green athletic shorts, and slid her the long, thin fingers of her right hand inside them until the fabric was over her knuckles. I could see the outline of her fingers tracing circles over the mound of her…well, where her pubic hair was, and she moved slowly, lazily over herself before letting her hand slide lower, so that the outline of her fingers dipped a little lower, over the edge of herself… She was touching herself there! Where the little cleft began…I watched her, mesmerized. But as much as I was absorbed by the motion of her fingers, I was fascinated by the look on her face, the rolling back of her eyes, the blinking of her eyelids, the occasional sighs that seemed to catch in her body with a jerk. “Tanya?” I said. “Are you okay?” Her eyes opened and she looked up at me, though her gaze seemed curiously unfocused. She withdrew her fingers a bit, so that they seemed to linger back in her upper region, and she smiled in a kind of melted look, as if she hadn’t a care. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But the combination of wine and wanting Kyle have made me so horny I can barely stand myself. But look at you,” she said, rising to her elbow. “You haven’t even begun.” “I feel funny doing that,” I said. “I don’t know if I can do it with you watching.” “All right then,” she said. “Turn out your light. We won’t be able to see one another, but we can still talk.” I thought a minute, then reached over to the light switch. First, I grabbed the cup and took a gulp of wine, feeling it spread through my body. Then I turned off the light. The room was not totally black, with the faint glow of the campus lights outside, but it was impossible to see anything clearly. I settled back against my pillows, and let my hand slide down my abdomen and over the top of my panties, past the soft fabric that covered my mound, and let the tip of my middle finger extend to the little cleft under the hair just under the down slope between my legs. I felt that little familiar tingle I had often felt before but ignored, the little electric twinge. But this time I let it linger, let the feeling fill me, fought the urge to move away and instead lingered there, touching myself again and again. It felt good, hot, urgent—it felt good but wrong, but the wrongness wasn’t bad tonight, it was good, it was what I wanted. I let it wash over me, let the delicious sinfulness overcome me, and found myself looking over at Tanya, her legs apparently apart and her back arching, her eyes closed as her face took on a determined look. I could see her hand moving furiously beneath the covers. The ringing of the phone was as intense as a high voltage shock—we froze, the room still as the second ring jangled through the silent intervals. As Tanya reached for the phone by her head, I had the sudden sensation it was my parents calling. Filled with familiar shame, I pulled my hand up and settled my garments back into place. Just as I was beginning to feel the old embarrassment, the old sense that my parents would disapprove, I heard Tanya sigh, trying hard to maintain a sterness in her voice. “You were supposed to call over an hour ago,” she said. “Um hmmm…um hmmm… You what?” She listened for a minute, and then I could see her relax. She began to twirl the edge of the sheet around the index finger of her right hand. “You did? You nut! You did that for me? …Sure you can…” Tanya gave a wicked little throaty giggle. “No, it’s all right. It’s all right. She’s asleep.” She lifted her index finger up to her mouth for me to be silent. “Um hmmm…” she said, her voice deep. “I want you, too.” She winked at me. “Ten minutes. Not a second longer.” She paused, and then giggled again. “Me too. I can’t wait.” She hung up the phone and even in the darkness I could tell she was smiling at me. “Where’s your nightlight?” she said, jumping out of bed, beginning to look at herself in the mirror. For what reason, I couldn’t tell…there was never a moment in the day she wasn’t stunning. She looked prettier waking up than I did at any point in the day. “My night light?” I said. “Whatever for?” She looked at me in the mirror, then turned and looked over her shoulder at me. “I think I have an idea.” I looked at her, and began to figure out the little plan she was hatching. “Oh, no, Tanya,” I said. “No, no, no..” “You don’t have to do a thing,” she said. “You just lie there. You can look if you want. Or you can go to sleep. But you’ll be missing quite a show.” “Tanya!” I said, my heart in my throat. “I just can’t! It isn’t right. I have to go.” I sat upright and put my legs out of my covers. “Go where?” she said. “Sally’s room” I said. “Or Maya’s, or Kathy’s…” “They’re out.” ”Then the lounge,” I said. “Sure,” Tanya said, spritzing herself lightly with perfume, then turning to look directly at me as she leaned back against her desk. “But you know you want to stay and watch. Come on. I’m nervous, too. I’ve never done this before either.” “But it’s not right,” I said. It was just that simple. “But why not?” she said. “If anyone should complain, it should be me. Or Kyle.” Here she gave me a small, evil grin. “And he certainly won’t complain, the little pervert.” “But I can’t,” I said. But I was fighting something inside myself, something I didn’t really understand. Unconsciously, I rubbed my thighs together as I spoke. “But you can,” she said. “All you have to do is lie there. You don’t have to do anything, really. Don’t even look if you don’t want. But you know you told me you don’t know anything about boys, or about sex. What better time to learn?” I hesitated, and she knew she had me. “Good!” she said. “Now I only have another minute or two. Where’s your nightlight?” Against my better judgment, I pointed to my nightstand. She opened the drawer, extracted the light, and plugged it in. It was dim, but given our previous state of darkness, it positively made everything visible. “He’ll never buy it,” I said. “Buy what?” she said. “Girl, you have to understand something about men. If you were on fire, he’d still jump my bones. Just lie still, and pretend to be asleep.” “But he’ll see my eyes are open.” Tanya looked around the room, and then reached by her pillow, pulling out a night mask—one of those little soft cloth things people wear on their eyes when they’re trying to sleep in daylight. She reached inside and tore out the padding, held it up to her eyes, and nodded, tossing it to me. “Wear this…it’s never been that great a shield anyway, and you can see right through it now.” I looked, and she was right. There was fabric over the eyes, still, but it was easy to see through, like a stocking. “But it looks like you can’t see. And I certainly can’t see your eyes.” I didn’t know what to say. “Tanya, I just don’t…” She smiled, and came up to me and gently pushed me back. “Just lie down,” she said. “It’ll be fun. I really want to do this. You can always close your eyes if you want.” I lay back, and allowed her to coax me back upon my pillows. “Let’s see what you look like,” she said. I tried to look asleep, but my heart was beating like a drum. I was never more awake in my life. I felt warm, my pulse pounding so hard I could hear it. “Not bad,” she said, but then stepped forward and lifted my arm, pulling the sheet out from under it. She laid my arm back down, then the sheet over top my arm. “Believe me, you’ll want the covers over you.” She stepped back, looking at me. She leaned forward again, roughed up my hair a little, and stepped back. “Perfect.” As she began to turn around there was a slight tapping at the door. I thought I was going to faint. I almost found myself wishing I would. Pet Project Tanya skipped to the door and twisted the knob, pulling it open slowly. She held her finger to her lips and I could see the silhouette of Kyle against the harsh hall lights as he moved into the room. The door shut behind him, and now I found I could see him more clearly. He was tall, about 6’ 2”, I would guess, and he had dark blond hair and a strong, muscular body. I could see the muscles in his arm clench under his short sleeved shirt as his arms encircled her, his head dipping to hers as she tilted her mouth up to kiss him. “Oh, I missed you!” he said, the words coming out muffled as their lips met and parted. “Oh god, I missed you…” “I missed you, too, honey” she said, her words breathy. Then they kissed, long and hard, and nothing was said for several minutes as they stood against one another, his hands roaming up and down her back, always pressing her against him, though sometimes they dipped, cupping her bottom, or stroking the side of her body from her hips to just under her arm. I thought it looked like his thumb strayed against her breast as he brought his hand up near her there. Suddenly they broke, and he looked quickly over toward me. I felt sure he had figured me out. I almost sat up, confessing myself. “Are you sure she’s asleep?” he whispered. “Dead to the world,” she said, hushing her voice, too. “She sleeps through storms. We’re all right.” Satisfied, Kyle dove back to her mouth, sliding his right hand down a little farther, down to the flesh of her leg beyond the shorts she wore. He touched her skin, then brought the fingers of his right hand up under the hem of her shorts. I could see his hand under the fabric, the outlines of his fingers running up and down the few inches he could reach. His hand had more success as it traveled backward, behind her thigh, and it disappeared for a moment behind her there. Tanya arched her back suddenly, groaned, and reached behind him down to his bottom. In a very unladylike fashion she gripped the globes of his buttocks and thrust her hips against him, grinding against his pelvis with her own. I was amazed at her forwardness. In my limited exposure to literary lovemaking there was much more reluctance on the part of the woman. She was to be taken, to be swept way by the man, losing herself in him. But here Tanya was every bit the aggressor, pushing herself against him, holding his body against hers. Not that Kyle was timid. His right hand still lost behind her left thigh, he swept his left hand against her right buttock, holding her as firmly against him as she did against him. He seemed to hunch against her, like he was trying to find some space, some hollow as yet undiscovered. Tanya’s hands reached for his biceps, holding them, then reaching behind them to pull him toward her, urging him on, pressing herself harder against him. They were so eager! Both of them. I could hear their breathing over here—short, hot gasps that were consumed by each other’s mouths as soon as they were expelled. Their lips met, locked against one another’s, then separated briefly only to lock again, in slightly different positions. I could tell their tongues were deep inside each other’s mouths. I had never guessed at the passion two people could have for one another, the total animal lust that took them over. I was hard pressed to believe that either of them really even remembered I was in the room, as lost as they were in each other and themselves. Kyle brought his right hand up and slid it along Tanya’s side, coming up until he neared her armpit, then brought his hand over to press against her heaving breast. She arched her back slightly, giving him better access, and he reached down with tremendous energy and pulled her t-shirt up from her waist, forcing it over her until her full, round breast jiggled as it slid out of the fabric. Kyle brought his mouth down hard upon her there, cupping the underside with his right hand and forcing her nipple to stand up exactly where his mouth and tongue could assault them. Tanya’s head fell back, her eyes closed, as Kyle continued his assault. His hand was so busy on her there: he rubbed, he cupped, he lifted, he squeezed, he kneaded, all the while licking her soft pink nipple. Except it wasn’t so soft any more…I could see it had swelled, puffing out, the little tip of her nipple standing out like the hard nub at the bottom of an acorn. And every time he sucked it in his mouth, or flicked it with his tongue or finger, it seemed to want to stretch its little glistening tip further and further. Kyle pulled away from her just enough to be able to reach down and pull the rest of her shirt up and over her other breast, and as Tanya’s arms raised I realized he was going to strip her top half completely bare. I was so shocked to see her like that, naked from the waist up, and I felt so…odd…staring at her body like I was. I was mesmerized by her: the way her full, melon-shaped breasts stood so perfectly firmly on her chest, how big and full they were against the smooth skin of her stomach and abdomen. They were almost unbelievable, as if something one might see in a drawing. And as Tanya’s head rocked back and forth, her hair shimmered in the night light, falling in waves behind her back. Tanya began to fall back upon her bed, and I could see Kyle pounce upon her, lying slightly off to her left side, the side away from me. In essence, he faced me now, though he barely ever glanced in my direction. Both of his hands assaulted her now, her breasts changing shape under his constant attention. He slid his mouth from one to the other, sucking her in, flicking her with his tongue, licking every spot his hands were not covering. But then his right hand began to move downward, coming off her breast and sliding down her stomach to her waist, his fingers hesitating at her shorts, as if ready to enter inside them, but he moved on top of them first, sliding his extended finger down until it just reached the little juncture, the little button I could feel swelling even on me, the little center of her, the penultimate pleasure spot… “No!” Tanya said. “Not yet!” She jerked up on her elbows, her fingers coming up and attacking his shirt buttons. “You need to take some things off, too.” I could scarcely contain myself. I felt myself involuntarily bringing my thighs together, rubbing one leg up, the other down, the feeling between my legs growing stronger with every second. I couldn’t believe I was watching Kyle as his fingers raced through the buttons of his shirt. The second button from the bottom gave him no end of trouble, and he just tore it, the button pinging as it hit the floor and rolled under my bed. His chest was broad and extremely well muscled, with only a few hints of lightly colored hair visible upon him. His shirt off, he forced Tanya back on the bed again, and he kissed her mouth again as his bare chest rested against Tanya’s. He brought his right hand up again, fondling the side of her left breast, and his right leg forced its way between her thighs, pushing them apart. Tanya took the first initiative, her hand coming down and grasping him between his legs. He separated from her only slightly, enough to give her access to him. She seemed to cup him, carefully yet hurriedly, sliding her hand under him, then up. As she came out from between his legs she stopped cupping her hand so much, and began to appear to trace him with her fingers, following him up, and up, her fingers and thumb apparently encircling him. She moved up upon him, then back down again, and Kyle moaned and rocked his hips against her as she stroked him. And if her fingers were moving along what they appeared to be moving along, I appeared to have another interesting treat in store for me: there seemed to be no end of Kyle in sight. I couldn’t believe the assault her breasts were undergoing. He never seemed to leave them alone…his hand was constantly at her, as if there were nothing he could ever do to get enough of her. I wondered where is left hand was until I saw by her movements that it rested under her, and he was using it to push her up against him. His right hand moved again, finally, and traveled back to her waist, then below, and he let his fingers slowly slide down to the juncture of her legs, tickling her there, letting just the tips of his fingers meet her, then cupping her with his whole hand. And when his fingers extended down between her legs, he seemed to let the middle one settle in a bit more, a bit deeper. I had a wonderful view where I was of this, of his manipulation of her and her of him. Each of them seemed to be driving each other mad. But Kyle seemed to lose this battle of wills…his hand shot up at one point, and he tugged at the edge of her shorts, and as she lifted her hips to accommodate him he tugged her shorts down, panties included, and she kicked them off when they reached the end of her long, slim legs. And there she was, completely naked before…us. I was looking at her, and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. She was even more stunning undressed. Her stomach was flat, her waist thin, her body perfectly proportioned. I would die for a body like that. A little tuft of blond hair lay on the slight rise of her pubic mound, so lightly colored it was difficult to see. But its presence was pronounced by the way she lifted her hips as his hand busied itself between her legs. Her soft little bottom actually rose above the bed as his fingers played with her. She gasped audibly. I could only guess he was inside her. His hand moved slowly away, then just as slowly in, away, then in, and it could only have been from his penetrating her with his long, strong fingers. Her body seemed to pulse with his thrusts, and I could tell when he withdrew just from the little pout on her face, and when he entered from the way her lips separated and her eyes seemed to roll back. At one point she let go of him to reach down to his hand, and she held it, the muscles of her arm as taut as coils. She held him tightly against her, and he hips raised even higher as her moans rose and she began to cry out softly, “Unnnh…oh…oh…oh…oh…OHHHHH!” Her body hung there, but it wasn’t unmoving. She seemed to be quivering, her upper and lower body in tiny little spasms, her forehead wrinkled, her lips tight around her mouth. She held this pose for what seemed like a minute, when she finally relaxed and sank back down to the bed. Her hand went back to stroking him, more languidly now, his hand still at work within her. I had never felt this aroused before in my life. I wanted to jump out of the bed and scream. I wanted to run around the building a dozen times…and yet here I lay, unable to do anything, unable really to even react to the spectacle I was seeing before my eyes. I wanted to touch myself, and tried to resist…but I could not stop the rubbing of my thighs. But then, I saw Kyle’s head moving from her breasts, and he kissed her skin beneath them, then left a trail of tiny kisses all the way across her smooth belly, until he finally came to the little patch of blond hair, and the cleft between her thighs. I couldn’t help myself. As his face lowered to her there, I let my hands wander to my breasts, and very slowly, so slowly that I doubted their movement could be discerned by them (not that they were looking!), I began to rub my breasts, feeling their soft fullness, feeling their swollen need. I touched my nipples, and was surprised to find how hard they were, the kind of hardness that came from icy temperatures. But they were anything but cold…they seemed to be hot and full and aching…I kneaded them with my fingers, rubbing my palm against them too, flicking my electric nipples with my thumb. And oddly enough, I found myself scarcely even thinking of how bad I was being. I don’t think I could have avoided it one more second anyway. And so I rubbed myself, slowly and deliberately, as I watched Kyle flick his tongue against her there. They were in perfect position for me, a well-lit silhouette, if you will. I could see each time his lips found her little button at the top of her cleft, and I could see his tongue extend and touch her, oh so lightly. And though I could not exactly see it when he slid lower, so low that his nose was pressed right up against her little mound, buried in her hair, I could tell what he was doing by her short little cries, the rising of her hips, the way she clenched the bed sheets with her hands. And I could smell her now, too. It was as if her passion filled the room, a smell of musk, a scent I had never smelled before, though when I did I knew right away what it was. It was actually pleasant, though it was indescribable. It had so many elements to it…like the smell of the outdoors on a wet morning. I watched with fascination as he busied himself with her, his arms stretched underneath her thighs, his hands upon the cheeks of her bottom, gripping her as he administered his mouth to her. I began to mimic the kneading of her bottom with my own hands, gripping my breasts as he gripped her, timing my movements to match his, wondering what it would feel like to be her, to have someone down there, licking and probing and… Oh! I was in agony. I wanted it all so bad, but I could no longer distinguish what it was I could do. I could only lie there and stare, my hands playing with my breasts, my legs rubbing together. I only knew I was going insane from watching it all, particularly from my confinement, my inability to do anything about it. If this had been a movie, a show, I would have turned it off and run to the shower, trying as hard as I could to shake the images from my brain. But here, now, I couldn’t…I was a prisoner to their passion, helpless to do anything but watch. And as Tanya cried out, pulling a pillow over her own face to mask her screams, I felt again like ripping the mask off my eyes and declaring myself, simply giving in and putting up with the awkwardness of it all just to get out of this room, to leave and declare it over. But I knew I wouldn’t—just as I knew that even if I did, I would never erase the images and sounds I was enduring. What I didn’t know—what I could never have known—was what was about to happen. As Tanya’s ordeal subsided, as her cries lessened and the pillow came off her face, she shook her head back and forth and gasped. “You!” she gasped, looking directly at Kyle, “You! Oh my god, how you do make me feel so good!” Kyle rose up to kiss her, and she returned the kiss in force. I wondered how she could do that…his mouth had just been upon her…there. And now she was kissing him, and…yes…apparently thrusting her tongue in her mouth, the very mouth that had pleasured her there? But even as she kissed him, I saw Tanya was up to something. She seemed to be rolling over, forcing him backward, so that as she rose, he fell upon his back. She rose above him, her breasts, unbelievably, just as firm even as she was horizontal above him. I began to wonder if they could possibly be real, but I knew they were…There was something about Tanya, something clear and indefinable, that made such a thing impossible. Tanya was, simply and unmistakably, perfect. And as she kissed her way down his chin, down his throat, down his neck and chest, I could see her hands were busy at his belt, then at his fly. I felt my heart leap to my throat as he raised his hips, and as her mouth pecked its way down his well defined abs she pulled them down, pants and underwear, and before I could even acclimate myself, before I could even prepare myself for it, Kyle’s hard, dark penis slapped against his stomach before my eyes. How can I describe what it was like for me, to see the first erect penis I had ever seen? I had seen statues and paintings, I had seen them in photographs even, clinical, biological representations that had shown them at rest, curled and tucked against their bodies, little, unimposing and curious members that they were. They had been oddities, however forbidden and furtive, but they had been unimposing and soft, almost minor creatures. Was this what all the fuss was about, I had wondered? But not now. Not Kyle’s, at least. As Tanya reached down with her right hand to touch him, to stroke him with the backs of her fingernails, I thought I saw it grown even bigger, darker than before. I almost pitied him: it seemed to strain against its skin to the point even of pain. Certainly, his groaning at the mere touch of her fingertips did nothing to convince me otherwise. I had no way to gauge his penis size by anything I knew. I had no experience to go by. As her hand encircled him I could see that he was easily twice, maybe three times the length of her hand’s width. He seemed to be curved a little, a bit like a half moon extending out from his body in the middle, then curving back to his abdomen at the end. I was amazed at the ease of movement of his skin there. As Tanya stroked him, his skin seemed to slide a good deal of the way under her hand, moving along with the motion of her hand as it went up and down upon him. I knew skin moved upon the muscles beneath in other parts of the body, but I had no idea it would be so…flexible…here. As she moved her hand Kyle arched his back and bore a look on his face that appeared to be more pain than joy. His face contorted, he bit his lip, he wrinkled his eyes and forehead…if it weren’t for his strained cries of “Oh, baby,” and “Yes, baby,” and so on I would have been convinced he were in agony. I watched, fascinated, as she manipulated him, playing with him. I was so surprised by their lovemaking. Everything I had heard about it seemed so coarse, so functional. But here it appeared that Tanya and Kyle were deliberately delaying their actual lovemaking, drawing it out, making what I always thought as the sex act the actual last portion of the meal, the dessert, if you will. Actually, by the look on Kyle’s face, I wondered if they would ever reach that stage at all. That thought was confirmed by what came next. Tanya actually opened her mouth and licked him, the full length of him, from his testicles to the very tip. I had to fight the urge to scrunch my face up into a yucky look—I had no idea Tanya would do such a thing. What a dirty little girl! And she seemed to relish it, lifting him up, even staring into his eyes as she slid her tongue along him, making little growling noises as she licked him. I couldn’t believe it…here it was, the most graphic part of a man, the most mysterious, threatening part of him, and Tanya was licking him like it was a lollipop. She swirled her tongue along it, around it, then brought her lips to it, kissing it. She was not stroking him now, though; she had him in the palm and thumb of her hand, reverentially, as if she were tasting the syrup of the gods. Then she shocked me: she lifted him and then slid along him to the end, and slowly dabbed her tongue against the very tip, using it like a small scoop. She lifted her tongue, and a long, wet strand of him extended from her tongue to his tip, and she watched his eyes as she extended it, and then, with a swoop, she dove down upon him and buried him deep in her mouth. Kyle seemed to elevate off the bed, grunting…he gripped the sheets tightly, the muscles of his arms knotted. “Jesus!” he said, groaning. “Jesus oh fucking Jesus…” I had never seen anything to compare to this…Tanya engulfed him, swallowing the length of him far further than I could have believed possible. And as she took in over two thirds of him, as she reached what the end of her own unique throat could endure, she paused, seemed to adjust something deep within herself, and slid even further down. And within a short time, her lips rested in the little tiny curled hairs at his base. Pet Project When she did this, Kyle seemed to lose himself…his head rolled back, his hands thrashed upon the bed, and he seemed to be almost dying. “Oh, baby,” he’d say, his head rolling from side to side now. “Oh, baby, you’re the best cocksucker in the entire world!” When she raised her head, almost letting him completely out of her mouth, she would stroke her hand busily upon him, up and down, up and down, all the while licking a little area about an inch down on what would be the underside. Then, after a moment or two, she would separate from him, look into his eyes again, and then sink down upon his (what did he call it?) cock again. After a few intervals of doing that, Tanya seemed to have him on the verge of an explosion. She paused, and gave him a little kiss, right on the underside near the head of him. She rose up and rubbed him against her breasts…against her nipples, and he breathed heavily. His…cock seemed to slide along them, easily, as if lubricated…I guessed by her mouth. As he lay there, moaning, she let him go and began to rise further, and she kissed her way up his abdomen to his chest. As she reached his nipple and flicked it with her tongue, he reached for her arms and pulled her up to him. She lay on top of him, kissing him deeply, their tongues playing…their hips rotated against each other’s, grinding them together. Then Tanya broke off kissing, raising herself until she was squatting over his abdomen, and she reached down and raised John’s cock until it was in line with her…her vagina, and then she lowered herself upon him, slowly, very slowly… My eyes were wide open under the mask, and I don’t think I breathed as she began her descent. I could tell he was entering her not only from the fact that she was continually getting lower and lower, but also from the look on each of their faces: the looked to be almost grimacing, teeth bared and eyes clenched. Every couple of seconds there was a sharp intake of breath, as if a new, more intimate phase had been reached. When at last Tanya had descended fully, her soft, light patch of pubic hair resting upon his own, she began to rise, slowly, all the way up, until he was just barely inside her, then back down, just as slowly. After a couple of strokes like this, she began to speed up a little, quickening the pace, until after just a few minutes she was riding him as if he were a saddle. She thrust herself upon him, and I wondered how she could take it…I thought of my own virginity, and how I was sure it would hurt to take a man like that. I remembered the look upon their faces as they first began, and I wondered how much of it was pain. Tanya certainly didn’t look as if she were hurting now: I could see those perfectly round breasts bouncing up and down as she vigorously impaled herself on him. His hands were all over her: one moment holding her breasts, the next her hips, her thighs, and occasionally he would even reach between her legs to touch her there. That more than anything else seemed to make her even more excited, and she would shudder and speed up, driving herself down upon him, making little mewling cries every time she hit bottom. Again, I was amazed by the animalistic nature of it all, the ferocity, the passion. I had always pictured a more gentle approach, more classically romantic. But this, this bloodlust, this fevered fucking…. And I thought, that’s exactly what this is: fucking. I had never used the word before, never said it, but I certainly hadn’t grown up in a cave. These people were hot, driven by a lust that I was only beginning to understand. I could feel it though, feel it building under my skin, feel its wetness between my legs, in the hardness of my nipples, in the flush that spread across my chest. Suddenly Kyle gripped Tanya’s hips on her downstroke, his strong arms clamping her to him, and he opened his mouth and arched his back—even with her on him, I could see them rise—and Tanya’s eyes closed, her breathing seemed to stop, and she stiffened. “Yes, yes!” she said, and then collapsed upon him, drawing her hips forward and back, forward and back, all the while urging him on with “Yes, yes, oh yes!” They lay still for what seemed like forever, but was probably only about five minutes. In the sudden silence, I suddenly became aware of how active I had been: my thighs had been rubbing together, my hips had been rising and falling with their movements, my hands had been traveling up and down my body, the tips of my fingers touching my skin with increasing urgency. But now, trapped into stopping my movements because of their sudden silence, I found myself in the same predicament one has when there is an itch she can’t scratch. The urge to touch myself burned inside the tips of my fingers, and I felt the ache of my skin for something, something to quell the burning I felt everywhere. But nowhere did that burning feel quite as urgent and needy as it did between my legs. After all these years, after all this time of repression, of holding back, of intellectualizing, of not needing, I found myself on fire, aching, my nerve endings as alive as if each lit by a match. I had no idea how long I could stay here without going mad. I slid my fingertips downward, past my flat belly, past the tiny little mound of hair, down over my little forbidden slit, my soft fingers sliding down further, down to where I ached, where I pulsed, with anticipation… I gave a little start: I had not expected my lips to be so swollen, so wet…I actually wondered if I had done something wrong. I felt so exposed, so dirty…my lips actually seemed to draw my fingers in, almost as if they were sucking them inside…I had jerked my hand away upon feeling my inordinate wetness, but found myself wanting them back there again, but this time to be used, to let them stray inside… No! I said to myself, with the last ounces of self-restraint that remained. I moved my hand away, and drew enough of the sheet down upon myself there, trying to dry myself. It was wrong, I thought…it was wrong yesterday, and it’s still wrong today…I can’t fall into letting myself go like this…Tanya had almost worked her dark magic on me, and I had almost fallen. But then, finally, Tanya began to stir…her hips lifted ever so slightly, and with a small groan from Kyle I could just see him slide from her, the length of him glistening in the dim room lighting. He was wet, too, and some of that had to have been her moisture…like me, she had to have been wet, too… He was smaller now, but still thick. As Tanya slid up his body, crawling languidly along his frame toward his face, her hips now upon his belly, his manhood lay curled and wet below her, sweet looking, and innocent, really. She pecked him upon the lips, three times, and he opened his eyes briefly, smiling, then closed them as he lay back in what seemed to be a glorious splendor as she ministered to him, kissing him… But she wasn’t kissing him now…what was she doing? I looked as intently as I could without drawing attention, and I saw she was not kissing the side of his face, but instead whispering, and as she whispered I was sure she was looking at me… Suddenly Kurt’s eyes popped open again, and he looked my way, too, briefly, then back at her, then me. He was shaking his head, as if saying no, but Tanya was having none of it…she kept whispering in his ear, an odd and twisted grin upon her lips. Then they both looked my way. I froze. What were they doing? Was she telling him I had seen everything? Was she revealing me to him? I suddenly felt so ashamed…I know I was blushing, even in the dark I could feel the hot flash across my skin. I felt naked, exposed, trapped…if he knew that I was looking, I could never face him. What was I talking about? After having seen them in action, I knew I could never look him in the eyes again anyway. But to tell on me, to embarrass me like this when it had been her idea anyway… As Kurt raised himself onto his elbows Tanya slid to his side and pushed his right side, the side away from me, and he let his body slowly lean that way, so that he was facing me. His penis slid downward, so that the length of it lay perpendicularly across his upper left thigh. Tanya was behind him, still whispering in his ear, but now I could see her right hand sliding across his arm and chest, across his body, past his stomach, his navel, his abdomen. She was rubbing him again, sliding her fingers deftly along the length of his shaft, and I could see him lengthen a bit as she spoke to him. Her fingers danced upon him there, and as she leaned across him I could see her right breast catch upon his arm, then slide down and up ever so slightly as her hand ministered to his slowly lengthening penis. After she said something into his ear he nodded, and she kissed him encouragingly, prodding him with her left hand, which was still behind his back. He looked back at her, his brow furrowed, and he shook his head. But Tanya only increased her stroking of him, and stopped his lips from moving by pressing her own against his. They kissed deeply for a moment, her right hand never slowing, and I could see he was no longer laying perpendicular across his thigh…his …cock (it seemed only right to call it that now that it was stretched out, hard again, straining again under her fingertips)…his cock was straight and parallel to his body, pointing straight to his navel and almost reaching it. Under her goading he stood up, and I was shocked to see him looking at me…staring at me, his head tilting sideways as if trying to solve a puzzle in his head. I tried so hard to stay still, straining against my will to run, against the burning in my loins… I couldn’t take my eyes off of his cock…it bobbed in front of him, full and extended, and pointing up, though it was not flush with his body, but at about a 45 degree angle in front of it. I looked so thick, so heavy, so purposeful…I felt faint. Kyle reached back and grasped Tanya’s hand…pulling her alongside him, and she tried to push him forward, but she found it tougher going now, his body too big and muscular to be moved by her. He grasped her in his large hands, pulling her ahead of him, and I could see the full extend of her naked body before me…her full, round breasts, the nipples soft and puffy and light colored, probably pink, though it was too hard to see in here to be absolutely sure. Her stomach was flat and long, her hips swelling so beautifully, framing her light blond mound, her hair so light and sparse there it seemed to glow in the dim light. Under his power now, Tanya stepped toward me, closer now, and I felt my heart sink with each of her steps. I couldn’t tell what she was up to, but I knew I should get up and run, to simply get out of there…she had tricked me, and now wanted to expose me in front of her friend, for her own amusement. But I couldn’t move…I was transfixed. It was their nudity—their stark, raw nakedness—that held me there, that made me paralyzed, made me stare, made me absolutely unaware even that Tanya was speaking to me, saying my name over and over…”Sherry…Sherry…” the sounds were barely wisps above the pounding of my heart. She was speaking to me, but it wasn’t until she same close, until I was trapped in her hypnotic beauty as she leaned in toward me, her breath touching my hot skin like the touch of a cool cloth, “…Join us, Sherry…” I felt her right hand upon my rib cage, just resting there, but her left hand was reaching for the mask, the only thing that had kept my secret, the last vestige of my pretension. I knew I should reach up and grip her hand, or turn away as if asleep, or sit up and protest this horrible breech, this terrible mistake, but I couldn’t…I just lay there, and felt the cool air rush upon my skin around my eyes as she lifted the veil away. I couldn’t imagine the look upon my face just then….I was trying to look defiant, surprised, sleepy, all at once. I couldn’t determine in my rush of emotions which role I would play best and therefore they all came out at once—yet I know in my heart all I felt was terror, sheer, helpless terror. But it was at this moment an amazing thing happened. Tanya brought her head down, ever so slowly, and softly pressed her lips to mine. I suppose it was what I had least expected. As full of panic and conflicted emotions as I was, when the soft, velvety lips of Tanya Keeler pressed against mine I felt the world stop spinning for just that second, and a moment of clarity came upon me. Or perhaps clarity is not the word: more properly, I felt the world recede for a moment, and only her face mattered—this otherworldly, beautiful, model’s face was only an inch from mine, her lips pressed against mine, her arms encircling me, her tongue brushing against my lips, her breasts pressed against mine. I brought my hands up, and as I touched her I was momentarily shocked by the feel of her flesh against my palms, but rather than be repulsed I reveled in it. Perhaps I was imagining it, but I swear at that moment I could feel each tiny little fiber of her skin, warm and pliant under the tips of my fingers. I stroked up her back, then down, only stopping when I reached the soft swell of her buttocks. I could feel her adjusting her body so that it could lie next to mine, and as she kissed me, as I stroked her skin, I could also feel her pulling the sheets off my body and her own frame pressing against mine. Her hips pressed against mine, and I could feel her separate her legs to allow my right one between hers, and she drove her right leg between mine. Again, I was aware that somewhere in my brain a tiny alarm was ringing, telling me that what I was doing was wrong, but it could not intrude on my consciousness any more than if borne upon cotton. I allowed myself to be swept up by Tanya’s passion, by this feeling of belonging to her, to someone as absolutely marvelous as she, and when I briefly opened my eyes I saw hers were looking directly at mine, and I refused to blink, letting myself be absorbed by those deep blue eyes boring into mine. I was mesmerized; at this moment I could not have told you where I was, where Kirk was, what day it was…but I could describe in detail the lush, yielding feeling of her lips, the insistent pressure of her thigh against my mound, the absolute surrender of my soul to hers as I felt her hand tugging at the buttons of my pajama top, the cool, clear, absolute delight I felt when she first tugged open my top and let her flesh press against mine. She pressed her breasts against mine, and I felt a slight tug as our nipples passed one another, and I was startled to feel how hard her nipples were, in contrast to the softness of her breasts. She began to kiss her way downward, first to my chin, then down upon my neck, and finally along the top of my chest, down the swell of my heaving chest, down, down, to my nipple, and she encircled it with her lips, ever so lightly drew it into her mouth, and flicked it with her tongue. I rolled my head from side to side, my fingers lost in her hair, and as she ministered soft, tender kisses to at first my left breast, then my right, then back again, I let my head fall to the right and I saw in the soft glow of the nightlight that, over on the right, in the chair against the wall, sat Kyle, his cock stiff and pointed straight up to the ceiling, his hand stroking it up and down as he stared at us. He made no pretense of not looking; no, not at all like my charade. He in fact stared at us, intently, as if trying to photograph what was happening with his eyes. And when he saw me looking at him, he stared directly back into my eyes and stroked himself in long, even movements for me to see. The room could have burned down around us at that moment and I would have been powerless to stop it. I felt Tanya’s left hand as it trailed down my stomach to the swelling between my legs, and I allowed my legs to separate as she traced her fingers along the top of my cotton panties, then along them to the damp center of me. I only vaguely was aware of any hint of embarrassment now at their being so wet; in fact, I found myself lifting my hips to meet her hand, and I reveled in the intense waves of pleasure her fingers caused in my as they danced along me there, and I began to think that this was it, I could feel a pressure building in me, kind of like wanting to pee but at the same time not, and as I felt this pressure build I thought of how it was going to happen: I was about to experience for the first time the extreme pleasure that I so hungrily sought… But she stopped…her hand still upon me there, but she wasn’t moving it, at least not like before, and her mouth rose from my enlarged nipples, and I felt such a sense of hanging in the open air, dangling like a fish on a line, when Tanya said, in a husky, low voice, “Kyle…come here.” And as he rose, his large cock levitating before him as if by magic, she slid off me toward my left side, between the wall and me. I missed her touch, and was suddenly acutely aware of my open nightshirt, my body open and almost naked. But even the nightshirt was coming off, as I felt Tanya tugging at it, and she raised me just enough to slip it off my arms and threw it on the floor. “Look at her, Kyle,” Tanya said, reaching over me to squeeze my breast. “She’s utterly delectable.” Her fingers traced along my belly, then back up to my other breast. “Don’t you just want to play with her?” Kyle stood beside me now, and he reached forward and let the finger tips of his right hand play across my stomach. His touch shocked me, and as he stroked me I could feel the difference between his hands and hers: his hard, calloused fingers were more insistent without even trying to be…his touch was heavier, more consuming. He let his fingers rise, and as they did I looked down to see them near my right breast, and then they were on it, and he cupped my breast, squeezing it with his thumb, letting the palm of his hand surround me. He rasped his thumb along my nipple, flicking it back and forth as he held me in his hand. Tanya squeezed my left one, and flicked it lightly with her tongue. I thought I would go insane. “Touch him, Sherry,” Tanya said, lifting her head to kiss me on the lips. The fingers of her left hand turned my head until I was looking directly at his penis. It was parallel to my shoulder, only about six inches from my face. “I…I don’t know,” I said, surprised at the sound of my own voice. I realized that these were my first words since Kyle had entered the room. “Yes, you do,” Tanya said. “You want to touch it.” She looked up at Kyle. “She’s never touched one before. She’s never even seen one hard before.” Kyle turned his head and looked directly at me. “Really? You’re a virgin?” He didn’t seem to be mocking me, or judging me in any way. He just looked very interested. I noticed his hand quickened slightly in its massaging of my right breast. I nodded. Tanya took my right hand in hers and lifted it, almost as if I were a puppet. I seemed to have no will of my own. She placed it upon him, encircling my hand with her own, wrapping my fingers around it. I was surprised at how hard it was, and yet still so soft at the surface. When she slid my hand up and down the length of him I was again amazed at how the skin moved, almost as if it were a separate entity than the steely rod that lay underneath. But, my god, how he was hard! She brought my hand up to the tip of him, dipping my forefinger into the slit at the end of his cock, and I found he was wet, and as I felt the fluid between my fingers I found it to be thick and slippery. Tanya encouraged me to use this moisture upon him, to facilitate my playing with his cock, letting my fingers slide upon him more easily. She brought my hands down to his testicles, and made me touch them, but whispered, “Be gentle,” as I played with them, feeling their heft in my hand. I hadn’t realized they would be so big, and how separate one was from the other. Pet Project I went back to the shaft of his cock, and stroked it now, on my own. I found that there were certain movements that I could make—like rubbing my moistened thumb on the underside of his cock near the tip—that made him groan, made him arch his back, and I felt a rush of power. I reached over to him with my other hand, and doubled my movements upon him, letting the end of him lubricate that hand, too, and let my fingers slide along him, gripping him loosely with both hands, letting them slide along him. As busy as I was with my newfound play toy I had not noticed that Kyle had shifted, and when his right hand settled upon my moist panties, sliding between my legs, I jerked and gasped. My legs rose and fell alternately, and I clenched them together for a moment, then slid them apart, not sure what it was I was supposed to do, not even sure of what it was I could do. Tanya turned my head and kissed me again upon he lips. “It’s intense, isn’t it?” she said. I nodded, my breath coming in gasps. “You love it when he rubs your clit, don’t you?” she whispered to me, and I nodded. “Just lay back and let it happen. Don’t hold back. Let it come.” I gripped Kyle’s cock hard, my hand tightening as I felt my control going. I jerked at it, back and forth, my left hand now gripping the bed sheets between Tanya and me. Tanya pressed tighter against me, kissing my lips, driving her tongue into my mouth, and she found my left hand with her little mound and pressed against it, reaching down with her own left hand to turn my hand so that my palm rested upon her thin, blond hairs, and slid my fingers between her legs. I felt that she was as wet as I was, and as Kyle’s fingers reached inside my panties and slid against my little wet slit I busied myself with hers, and she jerked her hips back and forth under my probing. I felt Kyle’s finger slip inside me, and so I slipped inside her, inside her slick little pulsing tunnel. Kyle’s finger slid inside me with some effort, but I found her little canal to be easy to enter, and though it was tight around my finger, it traveled inside her easily, and I found myself wondering how much of this wetness was hers, and how much of it was his. It struck me that I was pleasing both of them, and I loved this role. Tanya’s hips rolled under my fingerplay, and Kyle’s cock produced so much moisture that my hand slid along him as easily as on a warm stick of butter. But I began to realize that I, too, was sliding over the edge: not only was Tanya passionately kissing my mouth, her hands upon my breast, and her body pressed against mine, but Kyle was fully entering me now, his single finger stiffly forcing its way inside, then sliding out, then sliding in a little further each time. He would occasionally stop for a brief tickle of his thumb against the hard little nub at the top of my slit, flicking this little button back and forth until I thought I would pass out, then returned to probing me with his finger and letting his palm rest against my slit. “Let yourself go,” Tanya said, her words coming out like a hiss. “Let it come, let it come….” And soon, before I even knew what had happened to me, I found myself stiffening as an intense, boiling over kind of rolling wave crashed inside me…first between my legs, then everywhere: my spine, my feet, my shoulders, my belly, my fingers, my brain…I felt a spasm hit me, a turning over, and my body tensed and jerked and shuddered, and I heard someone scream and then, after what seemed an eternity, I realized it was me. “That’s it, baby,” Tanya said, and I realized my finger was still inside her, and I could feel her vaginal muscles clamping and releasing, clamping and releasing….and I realized mine were, too, upon Kyle’s. His finger was still deep within me, moving ever so slowly, and as my vision cleared I realized my chest was heaving, and I had broken out with a light sweat. “That’s right, baby,” Tanya said again, and stroked my forehead. “You came, baby, you came…” I turned to her and smiled, bleary-eyed, as if trying to communicate from the delirium of a fever. “Ooohh…” I said, my voice thick and husky. “Oh…it was beautiful…” Tanya smiled. “Yes, it was,” she said, and whether she meant mine or her own was not clear. Still, I let a small, weak chuckle escape my lips, and I closed my eyes and just luxuriated in the bliss I felt. I had never experienced anything like that in my life. As good as I felt, though, I could still feel Kirk’s finger still within me, and as my hips began to meet his movement I found myself surprised at my own greediness. I still needed more—at the very center of me there was an inexplicable void, an ache that Kirk’s probing seemed to encircle, though never satiate. I found myself actually lifting my hips to meet his next thrust, and I moaned. I was embarrassed that it hadn’t been enough. But Tanya seemed happy about it. “Ooooh, baby,” she said. “You want more, don’t you? You want it all. You need more, don’t you?” I nodded, my voice too raspy and raw to make much intelligible sense now. “I have something else for you,” Tanya said, and she reached out and pulled Kyle’s hand from me, leaving me empty within. I moaned, squeezed my thighs together and tried to rub them, hunching, trying to find some way to relieve vacancy. She smiled, and said, “I’ll take care of you, honey,” and kissed me, then reached across me and turned my head at the same time, and when I completed the turn I realized I was only an inch from Kyle’s cock, and it was pointed directly at me. I pulled back my head, and looked back at Tanya… “I don’t know…” I said, my eyes wide. With her right hand she turned my head back toward him, and with her let she reached out and began to feed his cock to me. I hesitated, my mouth shut, but when the wet tip touched my lip I instinctively kissed it, and his moisture spread across my lip, slick, and I rubbed my lips together, like women do when completing their lipstick, I tasted him, and it seemed sweet, and husky, and I separated my lips and let him enter me. I lay back as Kyle placed his left knee on the bed, then straddled me, his right knee on the other side of me. He pulled the pillow out from under my head and folded it, then placed it back, making my head rise almost vertically in front of him, so that taking his cock in my mouth was much more easily accomplished. I wasn’t really sure what to do to please him, but I remembered seeing the way Tanya licked him, and so I made sure to play with his underside with my tongue. I found he particularly liked it when I licked the underside near the end of his cock, the part where the ridge around the head of him disappeared. When I licked there he groaned low and gutturally, and I knew I was pleasing him. As he was blocking my view, I had no idea where Tanya had gone, but I found out when I felt her separate my legs. I assumed that I would soon feel her fingers probing me like Kyle’s had, but found out otherwise when the hot, wet tip of her tongue began to dance along my little button. I squirmed, but to no avail: her body was between my legs, and her fingers split me open, and with Kyle upon me I was hers to have, and totally open to her assault. And assault me she did, licking up and down my slit, fingering me, drawing my little nub (what was it called? The clit…) into her mouth and flicking it with her tongue—oh, God! She made me feel like a whore, but a wondrous one, full of sensation and excitement and feeling. When I got really wild, rocking my hips back and forth, she held my bottom with her hands, pinning her mouth to my slit and darting her tongue inside me and out, licking me from my bottom to my clit…making me feel glorious, and I came once, then twice, and I didn’t think I would ever stop. Through it all Kirk assaulted my mouth, driving his cock into it, at times holding my head and forcing himself so deep in me I thought I would gag. But I held on, tasting his sweet nectar as he periodically held my head still, but I always knew he hadn’t finished yet…I knew he was holding back. Whenever I came he would let up, letting me scream or gulp or thrash, and as soon as I finished he would slide his cock past my lips again, fucking my mouth (because as coarse as it sounds that was exactly what he was doing to me). Then, after probably my fifth orgasm, I felt Tanya leave me, and Kyle did, too, pulling his erection from my mouth with an audible pop! as he did. I felt insatiable, moaning and writhing as if I could never have enough, never cool the fires burning in my loins. Each orgasm had been wonderful, glorious, but there was still a hunger, still an aching that needed to be filled. But Kyle went nowhere—he simply slid down and spread my legs, climbing between them, and held himself up with one arm as his other held his cock and guided it toward my slit. Before he entered, before the touched me with it, he looked into my eyes as if to ask permission. And thus, I found myself at the final barrier, the last vestige of my lost innocence. I knew that this was it; that I was thoroughly giving in and going past the ultimate letter of my virginity. But frankly, I thought, there was little point in holding on—I had so little left that I could claim of my virtue that it seemed ludicrous to hang on. Plus, I wanted it so much…without any experience to base it on, I knew that this was what I craved, that this was the final piece of the puzzle. I wanted this as much as I could imagine I could want a thing, and I smiled at him and nodded my head. I felt the tip of him between my swollen lips, and at first it seemed as if were going to enter me without any problem whatsoever. But even as wet as I was, even with all of the things they had done to me, I could feel his cockhead spreading me, and the walls of my womanhood stretching to their limit. I squinched my face—it hurt a little as he pushed. “Oh, she’s tight,” Kyle said. “Oh baby, she’s so tight.” Tanya, on her knees beside the bed, to my right, reached down between my legs and spread me, massaging my clit with her thumbs. Kyle slid the head of his manhood up and down my slit, and then pushed against me, then withdrew and slid it up and down once more. Tanya even took over, maneuvering him at my entrance, spreading me and then massaging me as he pushed. Finally, his head was in, and he slowly pushed, waited, pushed, waited, and pushed again. “You’re taking him in, Sherry,” Tanya told me, looking up at me as her fingers still played with my clit. She smiled, as if proud of my accomplishment. “Your cunt is so tight…but that’s okay…you’re a virgin.” Tanya smiled again. “Or at least you were.” She turned and looked up at Kyle. “She’s doing well, isn’t she, Kyle?” Kyle spoke quickly, his voice coming out in puffs. “She’s…unbelievable…” he said. “So damn tight…it’s amazing.” I ran my hands up his arms, so rigid and tight as they held him aloft above me. They felt so strong, so defined, so manly. Their strength seemed to go hand in hand with the fact that he was above me, that his cock was so hard, and that I was accepting him in my body, letting him take me. Everything about him was strong and hard and taut—I looked down at his stomach muscles, his chest, his lean hips and strong thighs, as I felt him fill me inch by inch. My breath caught more than once as I felt him slip deeper in my…cunt (a word I had always hated until this very moment). “Oh, baby, I’m almost in,” he said, and Tanya turned back to me and kissed me, then kissed him. “Fuck her, honey, fuck her hard. Let her know how well you fuck me, how wonderful that big hard cock of yours is. Fuck her hard, baby…” I could feel him withdraw, and then push again, and so far it was still a bit painful. But as he slid in and out, it began to feel less and less like work, and more and more like pleasure. Soon, I was accepting his thrusts with anticipation, feeling the wonder of a man working away within me. I felt an immense rush of just how right this felt, how perfect. Kyle’s pleasure was being supplied by me, by my body, and as I accepted his cock in my cunt I was like his vessel, his pleasure-giver, and I relaxed and settled into it, and I let him thrust within me, even encouraging him by wrapping my legs around him. Tanya’s hand had slipped to his backside, and she was alternately pushing him into me and reaching between his legs to feel him fuck me, to feel his hard shaft drive into me. I could feel her hand tracing his cock down into me. Kyle settled down upon me, wrapping his arms around me, feeling me ass as he fucked me hard, harder… He whispered to me words that were as coarse as I’d ever heard, but rather than upset me they reinforced the animal passion he was feeling, the lust and wanton desire we all felt. “Fuck…your cunt is so tight…you little fucker..oh motherfucking god this is so fucking good…oh, your cunt is so fucking sweet…I just love fucking you, you little slut…” I answered him, telling him I was his little slut, and I was a bad girl, and I needed to be fucked, and fucked thoroughly. I felt him pushing inside me, and his insistence, his language, his hardness, the way he dug his fingers into my ass—all of those things together made me melt into him, or him into me, but I truly felt his need, and knew I was supplying it, and it felt terrific. I felt like I was my cunt, I was a vessel receiving him, and only I could cure his dreadful needs. And then he leaned into me, his hips still driving against me, and he grunted out a question for Tanya: “Oh, baby, you know I’m gonna come in this little girl’s pussy? Do you want me to fill this little pussy with my come?” Tanya came forward and looked at us both, kneeling, and I could tell she was playing with her own cunt. “Oh, yes, honey, give it to her, give it all to her,” she said, and she closed her eyes for a moment as she rocked on her legs. “Oh, you little cunt…I want you so bad…” Kyle said. “I am gonna come inside you…your cunt is so good…you better believe I’m getting ready…” I felt his tension increase, and I could feel a swelling inside him, and I knew I was going to receive for the first time in my life all of a man’s seed, and for the first time would be well and truly fucked. I felt the now familiar wave building in me, and then I felt it crash, and I came hard, anticipating, and in that next second I felt him jerk within me, and I felt the first blast of come splashing within me, and I felt my wave rise and build again as he spurted again, and when the wave crashed this time I felt something give in me, something that connected my toes to my spine to my cunt to my brain, and I think I called out as I came, his sperm filling me, hot and wet and thick, his cock jerking within me and spitting its load inside me, and he jerked spasmodically, his breath coming in quick gasps, his body convulsing as his own waves coincided with the pumping he was doing within me, and I felt his body straining, and my own, too, and finally he fell upon me, his cock still pulsing, my pussy still pulsing, and I felt the wave leaving me and washing everything away, everything but the feel of his hot, copious come inside my still throbbing cunt. We breathed rapidly, like two runners after the race, his hands still locked against my ass, his cock still pressed to the hilt within me, and we lay there, and I felt Tanya slide over his back into the empty part of the bed against the wall, and she kissed us both, and stroked us both, and told us how good we were, and how hard she came watching us…we were wonderful, just magnificent. I was too week to speak, as spent as I could possibly be. I felt his cock shrinking now—or was my cunt shrinking, and forcing him out?—and still there was his warmth within me. I didn’t think I could move, but didn’t want to anyway. I wanted to bask in this feeling forever. He leaned up slightly, and looked down into my eyes. “Thank you, Sherry. You were wonderful. If Tanya lets me, I’d love to fuck you again.” Tanya nodded, kissing him. Then she turned her attention to me. “Was it good, Sherry?” Tanya said, her face close to mine, her eyes wide and expectant. I moved my lips but no sound came out, and so I just nodded weakly, like I had been drugged. She grinned and kissed me on the lips, and moved closer to me, lightly stroking the skin upon my shoulder as she whispered to me. “You were wonderful, Sherry,” she said, and kissed me ever so sweetly upon my lips. “I’m so glad you’re my roommate…I think we have a lot to learn about each other this semester.” She smiled at me as her hand traveled down to give my breast a playful squeeze. “I think I’m going to enjoy college a lot.” As I felt the come settle within me, some of it trickling down between my legs, warm, thick, and alive, I had to admit I agreed with her.