1 comments/ 21935 views/ 5 favorites Possibilities By: CathyO1955 I finish getting cleaned up, and put on the deep red satin pajamas. The top buttons down the front, and the bottoms are loose and comfortable. I'm wearing nothing underneath them. I think of his hands, those big, strong hands, hands that can be so gentle on my body, yet so firm and rough at other times. I think of him removing those pajamas, slowly, and I shiver all over. Leaving the door unlocked, as he requested, I wait in the bedroom. I have the toys all laid out, clean and ready to use. I pick up the new heavy flogger, and bring it to my nose, smelling the sweet smell of the leather. My mind flashes back to the woman at the play party, the one that was flogged repeatedly, until she was bruised and red. That still goes beyond what I want. But to be flogged by him, oh how I want that. I think of his words today, that submission to him means doing things I would not ordinarily do. The words intrigue me as well as make me afraid. I think of the years of emotional abuse by my ex husband. How he made fun of every part of my body, how his words hurt me. I've come so far from that woman, the woman I was with him. I believe my true beauty comes from inside me. Yet, I wish my breasts were firmer, I wish my thighs were thinner, I wish I looked on the outside how I feel on the inside when I am with you. I want to be beautiful for you. You told me that one night how you loved my breasts, how soft they were, the nipples pink and hard, how soft my skin was. Your hands were cupping and massaging them as you spoke. Your hands aroused as your words soothed old hurts. I think of the tattoo, the one I had replaced. Somehow it makes me stronger. I look down, and I see it there, like it was before, and I smile every time. It was a real, tangible part of myself that I could take back, that I could reclaim. And it felt, and continues, to feel good. As I pace around the bedroom, I think all these things, one after the other, as I wait for you. I pick up the stuffed rex, and hold him close. A foolish, silly purchase, but one that felt good. I always smile when I look at him. You told me I was a sexual tyranasaurus rex one night, and I smiled, remembering what we had done that night. I put him back on the chair, and sit on the bed. I hear your car drive up, and I stand in front of the furnace, my face towards the wall. You will use the loops on the closet doors to restrain me tonight. I want that, to be bound by you, a way of showing my trust in you. You come in, and stand behind me, your hands on my shoulders. You greet me, then begin to nibble and lick on my neck, pushing my hair out of the way with your hand. I feel it, that slipping into submission that happens when I am with you. My body trembles, and I know you feel it. I keep my hands at my sides, again as you told me to do. The urge to touch you is strong, and you know that. I think we both enjoy you making me wait. Your hands slide around my body, slipping on the satin material. You move your hands up under the top, and I gasp as you touch my bare skin. Your warm breath and soft lips continue to tease my sensitive neck. I can't suppress the small moans of pleasure. You slip your hands down into the bottoms, down across my lower abdomen, pulling me against you. I move with you, but am not to push myself into you. You want me pliant, willing, moldable, obeying your every word. Sliding the bottoms down over my hips, they pool at my ankles. I step out of them as you tell me to do, and spread my legs apart and back, making my bottom stick out towards you. You stand beside me, bracing my body against you, and start to spank me lightly, a teasing kind of spanking. It's so hard to stay still. You spank me the way I love to be spanked; starting slowly, increasing the intensity gradually, my skin turning pink, the sound of your hand striking my bare bottom arousing and erotic. Your hand wanders over me, spanking my entire bottom and upper thighs, then plunging between my legs, checking for the wetness you know will be there. You stroke and fondle and find my throbbing swollen clit. I groan as you do, it feels sooooo good. After a while, you stop and have me turn around. You lean against me, kissing me breathless, your soft velvety tongue slipping in and out of my open mouth. I relax, yielding to your touch, your kisses. Your hands go to the buttons of the pajamas, and you undo them slowly. Your knuckles brush against my skin, making me moan softly. My back arches slightly, thrusting my breasts out more. You push the top open, and your hands wrap around them. One hand slides down to settle between my legs, my pussy slippery and hot. Your fingers slip in deep, curving upwards, pressing on that spot in me. Your hand doesn't even move, and it starts my body climbing. You pinch my nipple, tugging at it, stretching it, the double assault on my body incredible. You remove your hands, and bring your fingers to my mouth, and you paint my lips with the sweet juices of my own pussy. You push slightly, and my mouth opens, and I suck on your finger, watching your eyes. Those incredible blue eyes. Tugging your finger out, your hands slide the top down my shoulders and off. There is something so very erotic about being naked before you, you still fully dressed. Wrapping the velcro wrists cuffs on me, the hooks are already in place. You bring each arm up and hook me to the loops on the doors. You tap my inner thighs, making me spread my feet wider apart. You tuck my hair behind my ears, and slide the new purple velvet and satin blindfold over my eyes, kissing me gently as you do. You talk to me during all this, telling me what you are going to do, how wet I am, what a good little slut I am. You step back, and pick up the heavy flogger. Again, your skill shows. You start slowly, then pick up the pace and the intensity of the blows. Over my breasts, tummy, inner thighs, up into my pussy. Your hand massaging and stroking me in between strikes. I find myself alternately arching my back, thrusting my breasts out, then pulling back, the blows intense and hard at times. You strike each breast with a powerful stroke, and stop. I feel it, what I felt with you before. My body, on the edge of what I can take, the pain echoing through my body, the endorphines and adrenalin pumping through my blood. After a moment, your hands grab them, massaging them gently, your thumbs flicking over the hard nipples. Pausing, you put clothespins on my nipples, several on each. The sweet pinch is incredible. I can feel the pain deep in my breasts, making me groan. You begin to flog my lower body now, steady long strokes, lightly, then harder and harder. I can't see anything, the soft darkness intensifying the pain and the pleasure, as you know it does. You again pause, and lay down the flogger. You take off the pins, one at a time, making me wince and cry out. Your hot wet mouth engulfs each nipple in turn, gently suckling, soothing the ache and making me crazy at the same time. I tug on the bonds, wanting to touch you, knowing I can't yet. My arms are tingling from being up for so long, and you know they ache. Undoing the hooks, you remove the cuffs. I move my shoulders around, easing the tension. Your hands wander over me, your mouth kissing me over my face and neck and mouth. The taste and smell of you is so familiar, so arousing to me. Bringing me to the edge of the bed, you tell me to kneel. You hand me the lube, and the tongue vibrator, telling me to show you how I used it on Saturday. I blush, knowing it will be hard to do this in front of you. But my body is aroused and wet. I put the slick lube all over my pussy, and use the vibrator like a big strong tongue, alternately pushing it into me, and stroking it over my clit. It feels so damn good. My hips are moving against that rubber tongue. My tender sore breasts are rubbing on the bedspread at the same time. Your hands are massaging my cheeks, and I feel open and naked and exposed. You have taken off your clothes now, and you take the tongue away from me. Your hand replaces it for a few moments, then your cock fills me. You do as you did the other night, fuck me and flog me. I love it. After a few minutes, you pull out and have me lay on my back, my legs spread wide apart. You lay beside me, and your hand goes between my legs, and you stroke and rub and make me explode, cumming hard. You wait a moment, then begin again, the second comes hard and fast. I am panting, breathing deep, my body shaking and trembling. You put my hand on my pussy, and slide the slim vibrator in me. You tell me to cum twice more, and you watch me as I get myself off for you. While I am still shaking, you get between my legs, and shove them up and out and enter me. My pussy is slippery wet now from cumming for you, and you take from me now, using my body for your pleasure. It feels wonderful, your cock in me, my hips moving against yours. Your hands hold my legs wide apart, and it is a wonderful trapped feeling. I can feel your body rubbing on my sensitive clit. You start stroking harder, and cum inside me. We collapse on the bed, and you soothe me and I soothe you, hands lazily stroking over wherever we can reach, the afterglow flowing over us. After a time, my body finally calms down and stops jerking. I hold you tight, fulfilled and happy. You show me possibilities... Possibilities Going to leave, I stand and look at the two of them. "I should go. Its getting late." I pick up the two empty wine bottles in an effort to clean up on my way to the bathroom and to hide that my jeans are open at the top. My knees wobble a bit, partly intoxicated from the wine but mostly from the intoxication of the forbidden, the taboo, that overlaid our evening. Tossing the empty jugs in recycling, I move down the hall and into the toilet. Afterwards, I examine myself in the mirror and feel slightly awkward with my nipples still poking out and face slightly flushed. Well, I suppose I have reason, after all, the three of us just spent the last hour or so watching porn. Watching porn with my brother and his wife. Lesbian porn that we, the women, insisted upon. Porn that we watched while pretending not to notice the others. Pretending not to see his hard-on, or his fingers discreetly and slowly stroking himself through his pants. Pretended not to see her hand slip inside the front of her jeans and pretending not to hear the sound of her unbuttoning her jeans for easier access. Just as they pretended not to see me open my own jeans and wet my fingers in the valley there. Pretending we weren't watching each other out of the corners of our eyes as we pleasured ourselves. Pretended not to hear the suppressed sighs and moans as we tried to achieve and but still deny orgasm. A slight smile on my face as I realize that I could do it now. Here in the privacy of the bathroom. I could finally bring myself off while they sit there and wonder if that's what I'm doing. Why I'm taking so long to return. Knowing that as soon as I leave, both of them will be joined. Fucking or sucking each other. Their lust unbound by my presence. Not that I would have denied them, blamed them, or disapproved if they didn't wait. If they hadn't restrained themselves as I did. If they only knew... Knew what was running through my mind as the series of attractive and hot women had sex on the screen before us. Nasty, hot sex. Toys, fingers, mouths, tongues. In mouths, pussies, asses... Oh if only he would have pulled out his cock. He wanted to, I know it. And I wanted him to do it. To see his hand wrapped around it, jerking it slowly then faster. Leaking precum, both hands in his crotch. One on his cock, the other on his balls. Or maybe with a finger up his ass. Until his cum splashed oh his belly and chest. And her, to see her lovely pussy all wet and open. Fingers moving in and out, drawing her wetness over and around her clit. The into her mouth, to taste and suck while the other hand replaces the first. Or perhaps, like his, pressing a finger up her tight rosebud. And all the while, I would join them. Looking from one to the other, cock here, pussy there, while my hands traveled the familiar road of my body and my hot spots. Ah, but too late now. Opening the door, I return to the family room. Halfway there, she passes me retracing my steps. A hand touches my arm, "Don't go yet, wait until I get back." And she disappears behind the door. He rises up from the chair he's occupied. Damn, his cock is so hard, straining the front of his pants. Making no attempt to hide it, most likely too far along to do so...or to care. No, his look tells me he wants me to see. Proud of his steel and the potential it portends, offers. His eyes moving over me, openly, with desire. My nipples tightening as they stiffen to their fullest, proud of their message and potential they offer, portend. Meeting in the middle of the room, standing close now. His hand cups my breast, thumb circling the hard nub jutting out. "I want to come see you." Hand pressing, thumb more insistent, his message clear. My own hand has found his hardness, gripping it then tracing its length with my fingertips. "Ok." "I can come over after work, before 7." I squeeze my acceptance. He kisses me hard, rushed. Our tongues no time to explore, only to acknowledge the need and to promise. "I want to fuck you so bad." "Me too." The sound of the toilet flushing separates us. Moving apart, he goes down the hall,his turn to pee and wonder. She returns with a smile for him, his cock, then me and my erect nipples. Looking at each in turn. Her own on display. Taking my hand she leads me to the kitchen. "You can stay if you like, are you ok to drive?" Hidden behind the corner, we embrace. My hands on her ass as our mouths meld together, my tongue greeting a second one so soon after the first. "I want to fuck you. If you stay I can sneak in after he's asleep. He'll sleep soundly after all the wine...and I fuck him." Her tongue tracing my inner ear as I acquiescence, "Ok." Her hand, under my top, but otherwise where his was, her thumb repeating his ministrations of my engorged, erect nipple. So hard, for her, for him, them. Another kiss, her voice soft, "Oh, I thought he was going to pull it out...stroke it for us." Her tone changing, "And if he had, you would have seen me suck him," followed with a quick giggle. I look in her eyes, "And you might have watched me...fuck him." The door to the bathroom opening covers the sound of her gasp and the barely audible, "...yesss...". Possibilities Morning next day, mourning lack of sleep, I was cheerfully musing on my refurbished libertine status. Greedy, wanting more of the same, I was perfectly positioned for such to come to pass. Recent events in Holly's bed had effectively drubbed to dust my former over the hill self, inspired a youthful, jaunty bearing in me. In my conceited estimation, I was all so heroic. I had given a good accounting of myself, was quite proud of my untiring efforts. Stateside after twelve grueling months overseas, I was making up for lost time from women, their good, bad, indifferent company. Holly's guest, a good woman if there ever was one, I was doing more than making or marking time. My graying blond hair was askew. A shower stall, razor and tooth brush was in my immediate future. My ensemble this early a.m. cotton shorts dark as black currants, secured by a fraying white drawstring and stretching across my chest, a ratty gray tee shirt good for a few more wears, then unheralded consignment to the rubbish bin. Adjacent to the kitchen sink, one basin cluttered with spent wine glasses, crumby saucers, crusted flat wear and for reasons unbeknownst to me, Holly's soaking wet black thong, I chugged a bottle of Aqua Fina, tasty as Tuscan wine, in two or three goes, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. A double dime of hours bedding Holly had parched me. Water liberated from the green Amana slaked one thirst. Despite Holly's draining me at every opportunity, I was eager to quench another thirst only her voluptuous, hot-blooded body could and would slake. Starbuck's Espresso Roast brewing in a top of the line Mr. Coffee, a chrome Sunbeam toaster, a twin to one my parents purchased in 1952, twisted my eyes its way and gave a grin to my face. Functioning perfectly fifty-seven years later, our trusty Sunbeam had survived a decade in number of presidential administrations, polyester leisure suits, Beta players, my parents' abbreviated lives, my brother's two cursory marriages and my interminable bondage passing for wedlock. This good and dependable appliance reassured me. Old, rugged devices turning to long after young pups had laid down in exhaustion inspired me to be of similar bent. Holly, freely and frequently disposing her magnificent body to my tool, the wicked device, I welded accomplishing this worthy ambition. Retrieving an off-white cup snug in a cabinet over burdened with much dinner wear, I too noisily, averted an avalanche of crockery. Silence awkwardly stilled back, I cocked my ear, listened. No sounds of a certain she awakening. Turning, properly smacked a large silver skillet perched on the avocado enameled cooking top. Off the stove to the hardwood floor, it crashed in a loud bang. Sounded like a bag of gongs falling on tin. Damn. If such caterwauling didn't wake Holly, she was good to go for sleeping in the noisy, often uncomfortable places, I had slumbered in. Not a smidgen of sound hinting of Holly stirring. She was proving to be not only a supremely gifted sexual partner, also a consummate sound sleeper. Coffee poured in the waywardly handled cup, left un-doctored by cream or sugar; shuffling across the chilly tile floor on my bare feet, I found softer going on the bizarrely patterned Oriental rug in the dining room. On the maple table a too fragile crystal decanter held a pair of yellow tulips. Green stems plumper under glass, bulbs perfected by nature into canary yellow medallions. Less is more and simple is superior said in crystal clear eloquence. Comfortable in a handsomely appointed, sumptuously padded chair, my hands cradled the cup. In a monk's motionless hush, an impromptu ceremony made of sipping and savoring coffee. I venerated the tasty, caffeine punch; the apartment's reinstated cathedral-like quiet. With greatest reverence, I applauded the delectable wench sleeping a short distance away amidst tussled sheets I had gratefully assisted in tussling. Half an hour earlier, Holly on me like crepe bunting. Faces, hers beautiful, mine not so inclined, estranged on not too fat or too thin pillows I preferred. This choice body nestled so not awakening me. Something else did. Me, randy bastard, my cock, randy bastard's best friend, roused to the velvet bower of her hand. Not static, merely holding ground, but riotously active running up and down my length at a delightfully dawdling speed. What a commotion to awaken to. Not her engaging mouth but the third best thing. "Like that, do you. What you going to do about it?" What to do? Let me think. Fuck it. A lifetime jacked from dreamland, dealing with now immediately, sleep shrugged off in a wink. I twisted around; speared her. Holly, bright-eyed, full of mischief, drew me into my hilt with practiced ease. No make-up paving her strawberry and cream complexion, served up naturally, cleanly and tidily as an innocent, untraveled farmer's daughter, one tinctured with a bit of the slattern. Hair in a concise coiffure still remarkably disarranged considering its brevity. Arms disabused of any notion save clutching me in her grasp. Feet taking flight, sliding along my calves as I found her wet place. "Oh yes, fuck me baby. Give me your hard cock, fill me with your hot stuff." said Holly. Words impacting my ears no less sensually than her lively, hot body wordlessly accomplished. Unimagined hell on earth had to be in not knowing Holly, never starting, staying the course on such an exposed, sinfully gesturing female. Hearing, touching and taking her, I was in a merry band of brothers not consigned to such a Dantian inferno. Sunlight, weakly at first blush, brawnier later, working its way into the bedroom as my cock maneuvered neither gracefully or ham handedly but capably inside Holly's receptive portal. Neighbors awakened, commenced their ablutions as we continued until we felt like not continuing. Relaxing now, temporarily sated after gorging myself, I was in the quiet company of several healthy, humdinger tulips. Sipping this dandy tasting coffee, the sticky felt adhering to my tongue notwithstanding, I finally eyed Holly's apartment in detail. Yesterday, eager to couple, I was oblivious to the apartment's minimalist décor. Dashing to the bedroom, I sensed more than saw pleasant digs flaunting a powdered and puffed female's floral, ambrosia scent, glimpsed pastel walls, a few disparate colors and shapes, not much else. This morning a six foot tall Madagascar Dragon tree hove into view. As did several soothing watercolors hanging on the soft yellow walls. No entertainment zone whatsoever. Stark, uncomfortable looking furniture meant to be looked at, not lounged in. Bronze medals tucked in blue velvet-lined boxes, meritorious ones I suppose, significant prizes of some sort, three of them, equidistant apart, displayed on brass stands over the fireplace. Unlike the crammed kitchen cabinets, the flat was a loose confederation of artifacts held together by acres of white space. Nor was there a lot of sentimentality calculated into the decor. The apartment's common thread of aloofness was a conscious effort. Such a dispersal of taciturnity signaled a well ordered mind not mental aberration. A hopeful rationalization founded on nothing more than a meager acquaintance with abnormal psychology and experience with quirky people. Ultimately, it was a place for everything important. Anything unimportant was sent packing. That was fine with me long as such detachment confined itself to the furnishings and not in Holly. In one corner, a black music stand backing sheet music faced the one comfortable chair in this austere region. In its cozy province, I imagined Holly sitting stiffly, relaxed not a twit, the picture of grueling hard work, as her long, slender and Julliard trained fingers practiced violin by the hour. She played brilliantly no doubt. I had yet to hear her, but employment in the local, world class symphony suggested superlative skill. Last night, resting, a pit stop before barreling back on to the track, I said something about hookers. Not hookers in their traditional sense but ones inhabiting Elizabethan England snatching valuables through open windows with hooks. Following my hooker aside seemingly retrieved from nowhere, speaking in a hush, Holly nicely shored up our conversation with something not so off the wall. News of her musical aptitude, it's paying the freight. How her clever and practiced to the bone fingers launched her pell-mell into paroxysms of joy every time she worked her fiddle. Fondling strings with supple bow, yielding mellow arrangements, gravely serious sonatas, liberating emotive sounds, dulcet tones, she was distinct, a precious stone gushed over for its splendid natural gift. Sex, music turned inward, claimed and calmed her oft-unruly, fidgety spirit. Sex, frequent sexual congress in all its sumptuous modes, soothed, satisfied, permitted another, more intimate, creative expression. Dancers cavorting in public, their art exhaled in graceful choreography, their fairly moving, finely tuned bodies, evoking the best nature of the human condition. Holly, her stage shrunk small, warmly personalized, and divinely intimate, was no different in her compelling desire to exhibit herself, engage her randy body in conveying the ultimate best nature of the human condition. This part said in the first person sounded more charming, less haughty than my poor words suggest. Gently told, her voice nearly spent, beaten up by our diurnal and nocturnal buffeting, close combat of sorts, sex was therapeutic not salacious. Not a round heeled slut's tawdry confession but the declaration of a free spirit unconcerned with social convention or moral condemnation. She said "I just love to fuck and be fucked" and I nearly shot my wad. Flat on my back, swirls of wrinkles paid out under me, hands crossed behind my head. Holly resting on an elbow paying attention to me on the one hand, stroking me with the other as we chatted. Chattering soon put to bed as we resumed our merriment. What is a thirsty man still bellying up to the bar to do when so encouraged? Another coffee poured; back at the table in my comfortable chair. Holly, dressed in nothing, settled precariously in ruby-colored, open-toed high heeled slides, sashayed up big as you please. How she moved so noiselessly on those strumpet shoes was beyond me. This pair meriting approbation as did the others lovingly arranged on the closet's floor. Heels lifted nearly vertical, legs corded as such shoes are wont, punching out her ass in the most decorous fashion. Shoes doing for her body what ribbon did for what it wrapped. Her body all the more invitingly sexual planted in such showboats. Hair brushed, lipstick and make-up smacked on. Justly proud of her natural and improved assets, she leaned down. Boy did she lean down. Creamy breasts, hefty, gravity defying, filling my field of vision, overwhelming my personal space, she kissed me full bore and with lots of twisting tongue. Tasting of mint; skin sprayed with sunlight and citrus, a scent imploring my attention, quite impotent in masking the residual smell of our earlier exertions. This implacable odor restored the immediacy of our endeavors, made me instantly erect, a mile high erect to be factual. Or maybe my arousal was triggered by something more tangible. "Baby, you do have stamina. I cannot believe how many times you made me come. You may be an old fart but you are something," Holly said. Word of honor, she said it. Granted, the term "old fart" stung. "And you are what my mother warned me about." This statement is not in truth what I actually said. In point of fact, no snappy come backs just mean docility and dumb muteness. Bowled over by Holly's boisterous body so nakedly exposed, her tumultuous invasion of this placid place, I was deaf and dumb and happy as a rowdy conventioneer. Not blind though. Staring unblinkingly, mouth wide open, my whole configuration set to be undone in some fashion by Holly. Speechless, motionless, thoughts of impending good times roared in my head. Wild eyed wonderment as her lavender coated hands gently stroked and cupped my roughened face. Kissing me, tongue insistently probing into my mouth, one hand dipping into my shorts, grabbing what she had swiftly pestered into prominence. She came to a succinct decision. "Popeye feels to me like he needs relief." I said nothing. Hopefully, I was not making a habit of such stillness of speech. With few talents to speak of, mime not being one, I could not see my white faced self gamboling around a leafy park scratching for dimes and quarters, especially if I was incapacitated, made out of sorts, by a noticeably pronounced hard on. Instead of playing the mime, I might play my prong in public; get myself posted to a jail cell. Holly disappeared under the table. Dragging my drawers down, taking me in her mouth, she bumped her head on the table's underside. No, she banged her noggin on the table. "You okay?" My voice was found. Squeaky, off the mark, but it was back in the game. "Right as rain. Lover, soon as I get you where it needs to be, Olive Oyle will be even better." I gave myself up to her muscled pleasuring. Terrific bouts of pressure augmented by pulses of hot breath nearly had me rolling out of my chair. In the infinitesimal portion of brain oblivious to Holly's attentive mouth, I recalled ancient conversations. Booze befuddled patter, yakking about women sucking chrome off bumpers and golf balls through garden hoses. Below the table, Holly, chrome sucker extraordinaire and golf ball gulper, was doing in the indicative what we stuporous cretins in slurred speech discussed subjectively. Deliberations fueled by a superfluity of hackneyed bon mots and not much else. There was nothing hackneyed about Holly's oral sex modus operandi. Her mashing mouth nearly turned me inside out; her blustering almost punched my fitfully shaking body through the wall into a room I had yet to see. Yours truly, a chrome bumper on a tail finned fifties Caddy; I'd be striped clean of my nearly precious metal bark. Her fealty to my schlong—a particularly distasteful word in my estimation--was legion. Sucking, reversing gears, Holly's minty breath gusted along my cylinder; I managed to stay in my chair even as she swirled her tongue about the head of my manhood. Sweet Jesus, what she did so well to my cock. Such an uncommonly proficient mouth was to be cherished at all costs. Holly, soundly possessing my gun, un-cocked it, allowed me no firing options. Confined in her mouth, her command and control complete, my firearm's discharge and coupled big bang were at her forbearance. Seventh heaven bliss, not seven a.m. yet. Especially rewarding, for me, a man named Axel Campion, who in recent years found little comfort in the way of sexual fulfillment. Toiling in the shadows, I was a man who got the job done. Sometimes smoothly, little fuss, other times too much wear and tear. I was all too human. Squared away on the outside, internally, a mess of conflict. Depression often booted up in me; insomnia robbed me of sleep, and to my dread, loneliness frequently played peek-a-boo. Drank too much, liver worked overtime, not to mention acute hypochondria. At eighteen, my best friend's mother seduced me; taught me with great finesse how to work my body, hers for our mutual benefit, nearly wore me. She wearied of our sexual shenanigans, found a newly minted eighteen year old prick to fuck with. Heartbroken, I shipped out on a tramp steamer, did the deck ape thing, lived poorly in Europe, eventually enlisted in the Navy. Post Navy a career veiled in secrecy. Adventure, an element of danger and necessarily nasty deeds never mentioned. When particularly out of sorts, Holly appeared. What a coup. Trolling the shadowy, ethereal Internet realm, a cyber arena where duplicity often held sway, I had found the wonderful woman presently laboring under this very table. Holly was everything she represented herself to be. In person she was doubly prettier. Her close held body, not the image attached to her profile, just as top notch and just as immodestly clad. Next to me, not separated by the yawning gulf of seven thousand miles, her enthusiastic sexuality was well beyond what she proffered in her electronic correspondence. For whatever reason, without apparent ulterior motive, freely, with no coercion, she had taken me, a slightly dilapidated, somewhat depleted man, into her bed and most importantly, her body. Grand daddy Silas, lifetime Oklahoman, longtime roué, leisure devotee, wandered through life behind a big nose and sharp chin he unfortunately passed my way. Once, taking a hearty swig of Canadian Club, loudly burping once or twice, maybe farting, he said "never look gift horses in the mouth." In my childishly naïve mind, this old saw was home grown and harvested by my dipsomaniac granddad. At the time, I had no hold on its meaning. Later, I respected its wisdom if not the wisdom giver. Now it was all the justification I needed to keep my curiosity controlled, not speculate on Holly's short term interests or long time intentions regarding me. My gift horse finally gave me my head; I sprinted to the finish line where Holly demanded my surrender. Like those tall, rangy buckskin clad Texicans at the Alamo; I answered her demand with well aimed cannon shot. Unlike those brave buckaroos under siege in a broken down mission, my stout mission surrendered and retreated from Holly's mouth. Holly crawled from under the table, semen dribbling from one corner of her mouth. Towering over me on skyscraper shoes, swaggering, smiling wickedly as a sneer shadowed her countenance for a microsecond. It was the snicker emblematic of a warrior, leaving the field of battle victorious. We kissed. I tasted mint and me. It was my turn to reciprocate. "Just a sec baby or shall I call you Olive Oyle?" I said. I liked the Olive Oyle comment, made me sound less passive, more a player. The vase needed a safer place, a sanctuary from what was to happen. Gently transferred to the breakfast bar near the cordless yellow telephone and pad of blank yellow notes weighed down by a slim, gold Cross pen intended for writing memorable prose not mundane note taking. Less gently, with Holly's complicity, I fixed her across the table in a sweeping arch. Firm, sleek, drawn in rich curves, she resembled a horizontal parenthesis. I also managed the stilettos in such a way to keep them and my fetish in play. I was conscious of my hunger, Holly's eagerness nourishing this hunger. Not much else. Yet for several solid moments, my sense of sight held sway. I stared and salivated. My eyes given teeth gnashed on Holly's impressive accoutrements, made a meal. My peepers were entitled to their moment in the sun. Holly grabbed hold of the table. Eyes gathering her, socked her away in long time memory, hands commencing their labor of lust. Shorts popped out of, enjoying the sweet sensation of air sweeping down my strut like wind roaring off the plains to borrow from a long ago Broadway tune. Still shirted, I was ready; I soundly smacked Holly's ass. Red splotches splashed across dimpled pink flanks granite solid from punishing workouts. Holly did nothing by halves. She had no stomach for half measures. "Honey, smack that ass. I am such a bad bad girl." In saying "that ass" instead of "my ass", Holly was right on the money. In our mixing it up, Holly's derriere was an independent third party, the raison d'être of our shared energy perpetrating diluted sadomasochism. Had fortune favored me with a daughter, she'd sound nothing like Holly's campy voice. It was so over the top. Babyish, breathy, a mélange heavy on Betty Boop, some Marilyn Monroe, a dash from a kid movie star I could not name. Exaggerated mimicry, her signal of accord, fun to hear, foisted on me such good feelings as I walloped her. Possibilities She bid me bear down on her bottom with little consideration for gentleness. Not once, but a litany of calls urging me on. I smacked away. "That's for being a bad girl. You definitely need a good spanking you little trollop." "Yes, yes, yes. I am your trollop. Give me a good spanking." I spanked. Her voice quivered. Her bared bottom quaked. Ringing slaps. A sting in each measure meted out. I hit, Holly asked for harder hits. Jerking outward, lifting, a higher span, Holly balanced precariously on the toes of the stilettos. Legs straining, stretching, riveting my attention, compelled my fingers caress her flesh and dash in and out of her in a corkscrewing twist. In concert with the spanking, cock in hand, stroking it. How could I not. A tableau fraught with such sexuality had me facing the real possibility of ejaculating out of hand. On thighs, buttocks or other terrain not squirted most beneficially, at least to me, through her seam. Some fancy footwork averted this untoward event. Not ready to lead with my cock, push it in, I primed her with two fingers. Knuckles kneeled inside too. Basic finger fucking readying her; wetness lacquered her thighs. My hand firmly embraced my cock; stroked, keeping it ready to close inside her, serve my needs, and nurture hers too. "Damn, you are one randy wench; ready to get me in you?" "Yes, fuck yes. I am ready." Not a kid's voice anymore. Holly, sodden cleft twisted round my fingers, squeezed and squeezed harder. What control she had. What presence she committed in any venture. "Not fingers, give me what's between your legs." "Soon baby, soon. Honey, you are what my mother warned me about." This time actually said. "Much as I love your fingers, I crave your cock more. I want it in me." I loved such changeovers. Abruptly, with no warning, submission giving way to dominance, passivity beat senseless by aggression. Forever and a day, I had been reluctantly and miserably sexually abstemious. Noah Campion meets Holly Lynn Ventura. The drought was over. I was soaking in the sudden outburst. Fingers came out, cock came in. I said "Yes, that is what I am talking about." Had I passed into her poop chute? No, I was in the right place. Its tightness always surprised me. I was a stallion and Holly held me in her corral. I bucked against Holly, Holly backed up. The table groused, creaked in its timber as we stressed it with our bodies. I leaned in, wood good and deep. "Fuck me like a whore. Do it baby, do it. It feels so good you being in me." Words trailed off, she muttered something undecipherable as I prodded into her with all my summoned punch. We kept doing it and kept doing it. Slap, tickle; slamming, slowing, slamming, slowing. I fucked her with little gentleness. She fucked me in kind. Rocking in, rocking out and holding on, Holly, glancing back over her shoulder, holding onto two woods: mine and the table's. "Tell me another interesting tidbit, something you read. I love that." "Now!" Someone said genius is holding two contradictory ideas simultaneously. Holly getting fucked, thinking of trivia at the same time made her a genius in my book. Maybe I wasn't kicking the right spot if she had the wherewithal to think of such things. I gave it not much thought. Purchased in Holly, my mind was focused on her wet treasure-trove not dry trivia. Shaking off my incredulity, I managed to think of something, something of merit, get her mind back to what we were doing. "Here's something. The tongue of a giraffe is half a meter in length, long enough to clean its own ears." "I might have to find a tall ladder or climb a tree, see if one of those fellows can clean something other than its ears." We laughed. I bored in, shot deep. She squealed. Its sound signaled my success in striking her sweet spot. The table shaking, we in the always popular doggy fucking profile, I pounded away. Holding on, my lubed shaft sped forth. Her pinching down had me under the most delightful duress. My vehicle, feeling like a long bus, thrummed with sensation seldom experienced by yours truly. I came to this woman's bed benumbed by isolation, sexual inactivity, manly fears of dysfunction and a manful will to obliterate such fears. Restored to my youthful glory, I basked in the good feelings Holly set lose in me on a nearly non-stop basis. "Fuck that cunt. Keep going. Don't stop." Another third party was at play. Her ass shoved aside for now. I had no intention of stopping. Banging away, I was already considering seconds. I'd fuck her missionary style. Grab her stupendous breasts, strop her nipples with my tongue and manhandle those huge puppies around my cock. Jerk a shoe off one foot, play the heel across her clit, rub it gently, enthusiastically, get her off. That's what I'd do. News flash! Stop the presses! Holly was fast and loose. Only she and her creator, a truly great Joe if there ever was one, knew how many had her as I now had her. A goodly number, yet her sopping wet cavity retained a delightfully virginal reticence chomping down on me. In the slop we made, not the least bit loose or limber the oft found lugubrious upshot of frequent use. Packed inside her, my cock pulsated stem to stern. In our give and take, hitting home runs I hope, my charmer on its collision course with the moist center of her sex strutted as it did years ago in Ben Flaver's ripe bodied mother. Had her hair flowed long and loose, I'd be yanking it. Had I been Speedy Gonzalez, Flash of the comic books, I'd move back and forth between Holly's mouth and cunt, throw in her ass for good measure. Swift movements made in an eye blink. To Holly's senses two or a trio doing her at once. Holly's irrepressible sexuality no doubt expressed itself in quantity no less than in quality. Shouldered as I was inside Holly, insanely busy, this notion of doubling fascinated me. Not fantasy doubling by lonesome me but in friendly companionship with another male. Or another duo: a sybaritic female, all her female intuition, gentle caresses and soft texture at play while I did my rougher business. "Holly has anyone or any twos or threes fucked you on this table? Silence, a long period of it, literature's pregnant pause, and then a resounding "yes." Not a yes for one man fucking her one time on this one table but a yes followed by the dispatch of more titillating information. Not only had she previously fornicated on this table, two men had simultaneously fucked her while a third man waiting his turn, stroked his cock and shot sperm across her butt cheeks. As it took place, two gorgeous, naked women leaned against the breakfast bar, drank merlot and watched. "Even with cock in two of my holes, as busy as I was, out of the corner of one eye, I could see Heather playing her snatch and I could see the sperm dripping from Jill's. What a turn on." Answering so well in the affirmative had the salubrious effect of driving my dick deep, deep, deep. Pondering her answer pounded blood into my member. The idea of such sizzling, quantitative sex taking place here on and about this dining room table had me dangerously close to sending a jet of hot jism into Holly any second. "I take it you are not shocked or put off by the idea of another man or men fucking me on this table. I have fucked lots of fellows here and there. Lots of interesting places." "Not a bit lover, not one little bit." In such a fashion, the door to Holly's past opened. I rushed in before it shut. "You'll have to tell me sometime of threesomes in the bedroom." "Sure, but not right now." My cock was barely making headway. Slowing justly excited, within one or two frictional moves of stating my excitement. My voyeur self front and center, titillated off the chart by Holly's bold talk. Maybe this vixen did gang bangs, pulled trains. In less than 24 hours Holly had totally corrupted me. Sex mano a mano already losing its sparkle. Threesomes and foursomes and beyond sums, the nicest form of arithmetic computing in my brain made feverish by lust. "Honey, if you want a threesome, I shouldn't have any trouble finding an interesting party. I'm sure Heather and Jill would love to play too. Later though. Now all I want is you, your cock fucking me." Mr. Wicked meets Miss Wicked. Possibilities Carolyn rubbed her neck as she walked through the front door of her home. The simple one story house would have been small if it was more than just Carolyn, but her life hadn't been complicated with husband or children, so it was enough. She dropped her day bag to the ground as she dropped herself into an easy chair. She had left the lights off but still closed her eyes as she tried to wring the stress of the day out of her neck. After a few minutes she stood back up and walked to the patio in her back yard. She sat in one of the lawn chairs and looked out at the failing light of the day. Carolyn hated her job. It always left her with a knot of stress on the back of her neck. In recent days the pain couldn't be banished with pills or sleep. It hung on the back of her neck with ever increasing weight. She needed a change. Who had time for change? Carolyn had a mortgage to pay. She heaved herself up out of the chair and wandered back into the house. As she walked back to the bedroom she pulled her clothes off and tossed them wherever they fell. She was in her bra and panties when she walked by the standing mirror in her bedroom. She looked at the reflection of her body. She looked tired. Hot, but tired. She ran a hand from just below her C-cup bra down to her flat stomach and back around to her firm ass. She squeezed a cheek through the fabric of her panties and sighed. No one but her had had access to the flesh under her panties for such a long time. She ached, in that void between her legs. Maybe a good cum would set her body at ease. She reached behind her and unclasped the bra holding her bosom to her chest. The release of her breasts brought another aching sigh from her lips. She laid down on her bed and felt her breasts shifting around at the whim of gravity. She stretched into the thick comforter and brought her hands to the undersides of her breasts. She shifted their weight around her chest and let the electric feeling of her shifting flesh radiate out and down into her pussy. Leaving one hand to tweak at her nipple, the other slid down the firm flesh of her trunk and stopped at her pubic bone. She loved to feel pressure there, though it was far better when she had a length of man filling her. Her hand moved down underneath the band of her panties and probed at the flesh surrounding her pussy. She liked it slow. Liked the burning feeling that grew and grew until the final release flushed her whole body. Her fingers probed around and under her clit. She felt the wetness growing inside her but she held back, not wanting to move to fast. Already the stress was leaking out of the knot of muscles in her neck. The pent up energy ran down her arching spine and lodged itself in her pussy. Carolyn pulled the damp panties from around her legs. She buried her fingers into her cunt, desperate to pry it loose. Her fingers probed deeper and deeper. They twisted and grasped at some unseen destination. She added a second finger, and stretched her opening wider between the two digits. She was so close. Sooo close. THERE! With a great rushing release she cried out into the empty room. Her formless moan was ranged in pitch as the energy ricocheted around her body. She took great gasping breaths and let her back ease back down into the bed. She brought her wet fingers up and tasted herself. She curled up into a ball. The orgasm had eased her anxiety and stress for a little while, but she'd be back again tomorrow. Repeating her never ending day, over and over. The futility chilled her. She pulled at the edge of the comforter and drew it around her. She quickly fell asleep. There was a massive boom that shook the whole of the house. Carolyn sat up straight in her bed looking for the source of the disturbance. She felt groggy and out of sorts. The room looked as she'd left it in the haze of her orgasm. She got out of bed and stumbled about looking for the source of the incredible impact she'd heard. Not finding anything wrong in the house she looked out into the backyard and found the answer. The whole of the yard was essentially destroyed. It was replaced with a great crater in the ground. The edges were still smoldering from the heat of whatever had impacted the yard. Carolyn stepped cautiously out onto the remains of the patio. The splintered wood around the yard was too large to endanger her feet but she still stepped with care. At the center of whole was small silver sphere, no larger than a bowling ball. She stepped down into the crater. The ground was warm against the soles of her feet. She reached the sphere and crouched down to examine it. The sphere was a shining metal though she had not the experience to know what kind. It seemed of one piece with no sign of opening or hinge or slit. She picked it up and balanced it between her hands. She passed it back and forth between her palms and heard the sound of liquid within. She stood up and held the sphere up into the moon light. As she did, the voice of her neighbor crying out wondering what the hell was going on, came from over the lip of the crater. The human voice brought her to full realization of her current predicament. She was standing in a hole in her back yard, holding a strange metal sphere over her head, naked as the day she was born. She hustled over the edge of the crater with the sphere under her arm. In her hasty retreat to the house she managed to snag her finger on a splinter of wood. Once back inside she shook her injured finger about in the chill air of the early morning, splattering some small drops of blood on the table where she had placed the sphere. She sucked at her finger and left the sphere in the dining room. She walked back to the bathroom, where she found disinfectant and band aids for her injury. As she stretched the Band-Aid around her finger, the sound of escaping air could be heard from outside the bathroom. Curious, Carolyn walked back out into the dining room area and stopped short. The sphere was no longer a sphere. One side of the sphere had rotated open, revealing the interior. Carolyn walked over and peered cautiously down into the open sphere. There was a boiling blue liquid in the bottom of the sphere. It didn't fill the sphere and sloshed around as Carolyn manipulated the container. The liquid was thick and viscous. It clung to the steel inside of the sphere. The boiling that she was seeing slowed and stopped, though there was no gas or steam being released by the boiling liquid. As it calmed it seemed to grow darker and almost solid. Something was rising out of the dark congealing liquid. A smaller sphere popped to the surface. Carolyn reached into the sphere. There was some heat coming off the liquid, and a strange odor to. Almost like cinnamon. A tendril of the liquid shot out and wrapped itself around Carolyn's hand. She jumped back but her feet caught together and she fell to the floor. The tendril stretched and grew, maintaining its connection to both Carolyn and the sphere. She opened her mouth to scream and a separate line of blue liquid shot into her mouth. It filled her mouth, forcing her jaw open. The liquid flowed all around her. It shot up her arm, wrapping itself around her as it did. The substance in her mouth flowed out and around her head, quickly encapsulating her. She couldn't see as the dark liquid flowed over her eyes. She felt it enter her nose and flex itself through her airways. She felt the mass form itself to her until every pore, every orifice was filled. It pulsed in her ass and in her pussy. It stretched inside of her, feeling at her limits. It moved down her throat and into her bowels. Somewhere inside her, the two ends met and merged and flexed. There it flexed and stretched. Carolyn couldn't tell how long it lasted. She couldn't tell how long she had been trapped in this senseless formless void. Suddenly, in a rush that left her gasping, the liquid pulled itself out of her and off of her. She found herself laying in her bed, a faint trail of wetness leading off the bed from between her legs. She curled up into the ball again and pulled the sodden comforter around her sweat soaked body. She sobbed a little just before sleep took her again. When she managed to open her eyes again she felt warm. She kicked at the comforter and felt the sun bathe her body. She closed her eyes and stretched out into the bed, rolling onto her back. When she was finally comfortable, the person next to her snuggled up, pressing her breasts into her arm and draping a hand across her stomach. It was nice. It was always nice to wake up next to someone. The sudden strangeness smacked Carolyn in the face. She leaped from the bed taking the comforter with her, wrapping it around her nakedness. She looked down at the impossible. Carolyn stared down at herself, lying in the twisted sheets of her bed. Her long red hair was loose and arrayed underneath her writhing body. The motion caused her breasts to sway back and forth across her tight chest. Toned arms moved over flat belly and then pulled at the sheets to try and cover herself. The flat stomach gave way to a sloping pubic area, but where Carolyn was shaved cleanly her copy had a thick hairy bush of red hair. The long toned legs remained uncovered as the writhed around looking for warmth. Carolyn's disbelief finally overrode her shock enough for her to speak. "What the fuck?" Her words brought a flutter to the eyes of her doppelganger. The thing sat up and kept the sheets drawn around it, covering her breasts and groin. It looked up at her and she felt their gazes hold for several heartbeats. She was looking into her own green eyes. They were so full of life and yet, there was none of the tiredness she had seen in the mirror yesterday. Something else was there also. Something alien. A deeper more experienced life looking back at her from her own eyes. "This must be very strange for you. Please be at ease." Carolyn scoffed. "You can talk. Great. I guess that rules out hallucination or something like it." "I assure you we are both awake. Have I approximated you well?" "If you mean do you look like me yeah. What the hell are you?" "I am...me? Hmmm no that's not quite right. I apologize I am still growing accustomed to your nervous system and memory engrams. I am an alien. My name is Krlyn. You are Carolyn. I have assumed your form so that we might speak and learn from each other." "Yeah. I'm sure. Right before you eat my brain. This can't be real." Carolyn walked around to the side of the bed that Krlyn was on. She reached out from underneath the comforter and poked Krlyn in the forehead. She seemed solid. Though it was almost as if there was some give to the bones underneath the skin. Krlyn wrinkled up her face and looked up at Carolyn curiously. "Why did you do that? Do I offend you?" "Well you might. I touched you to make sure you were real. That's how humans explore. It still feels a little like a dream. So last night the blue goo in the sphere, that was you." "Yes, in a manner of speaking. This is the true me." A small gleaming sphere rose up out of the flesh of her chest. It was no bigger than a marble or pearl. Krlyn had closed her eyes as the sphere peeked out from her sternum. Carolyn reached out and stroked the sphere with a single finger. Krylyn's body shuddered and a ribbon of blue passed from her feet all the up to her head and traveled out into her hair. Carolyn gasped. The sphere retreated into Krlyn's flesh again. "Apologies. I lost concentration. I have never been touched like that. Also your nervous system is so sensitive. Every part of you is alive and sending me information. I'm still adjusting." "So you can change? You aren't held to looking like me? Could you change a little? Maybe I wouldn't be so freaked out if I didn't feel like I was talking to myself." "Of course." Krlyn's body pulsed with and inner blue light and then changed. What remained was Carolyn's body but the skin had become a translucent blue. She could see all her organs and muscles operating beneath the skin. Eyes floating in their sockets. In her shock she dropped the comforter and sat down on the bed. She reached out her hand and pressed at Krlyn's color bone. It was flexible like skin pulled over jelly. "Oh god. That's a little too much. Maybe just change your hair color or something simple." The skin flexed back to flesh color and the mirror of Carolyn returned but the hair remained blue. "How is this? Does this please you?" "Yes. I mean sure. Can you change anything you want about my body?" "Yes. Within some constraints. I am held to the scope of you DNA while I am maintaining this approximation. I would need to revert to a more amorphous form to do anything...drastic." Krlyn was smiling now. Carolyn couldn't help but smile back. She was sure she should be way more freaked out now, but something new was happening. She was happy to just be doing something outside her normal routine. Something fantastic. "So why all the hair?" "I do not understand. Is this not the natural growth of your follicle system?" Krlyn looked confused and then dropped her sheet exposing the rest of her form. She stood up from the bed and lifted her arms and legs. She rubbed at the hair under her arms and then looked at the hair growing there. Carolyn stood up next to her and showed off the same areas to Krlyn. "Humans like to shave off the excess body hair. We also shape the hair of our heads sometimes. See?" Carolyn took Kryln's hand and rubbed in her arm pit to feel the smoothness. There. Kryln responded by touching between Carolyn's legs to feel at the absence of hair there. She collided with her clit and the shock sent shivers all over Carolyn's body. She didn't resist as Krlyn's fingers continued to explore the flesh between her legs. "You are enjoying this Carolyn? Your nervous system is so unlike any we have seen. So sensitive. So numerous. It's a little overwhelming." "You're an alien from another planet that looks like me with blue hair. Overwhelming isn't even covering the first part. Weird. I'm not even freaked out. I probably should be running for the cops, but, if I'm honest, this is the most awake and alert I've felt in weeks. Oh god keep doing that it feels good." "Yes. I must say I feel at ease in your presence as well. Perhaps we found some measure of symbiosis in the scanning last night. I do not typically need sleep after data assimilation but after the crash last night I'm afraid some of my capabilities might be impaired." "You lost me around the scanning. Do you mean when your goo went all over...and in me?" "Yes. I had acquired your DNA scan from blood that impacted my sphere. However so much of your biology is developmental that I could not approximate your form without additional data. I'm afraid that my assimilation systems were automatic. I could not prevent it from being so...invasive." "Yeah. I was pretty freaked out, but now, well the opportunities to talk with you is pretty amazing for just having some goo go in places my mother aint even seen." "Do you mean places like this?" Kryln stopped feeling at her clit and slid two digits deep into her pussy. It was fast enough that Carolyn didn't have time to stop her. Not that she would have. The fingers wiggled inside, though it was amateurish. Only enough to get her going. "Krlyn, that feels good, but why don't you let me show you how this body of mine works." "Carolyn. My mandate is exploration. Please do as you like. I will observe as you pleasure yourself." "That's not really what I had in mind." Carolyn reached down and touched at Krlyn's clit with her thumb while her middle and forefinger dipped inside her. Krlyn's whole body began to shake and her eyes rolled back into her head. Suddenly copious amounts of juice flowed out and into Carolyn's hand. Kryln fainted back onto the bed. Carolyn looked down in astonishment. She didn't remember her first orgasm knocking her out. She lifted her hand up to her hand and licked Krlyn's juices. They were sweet and savory. Whoa. What was she doing? This was so weird. She took another lick. She wanted more. Carolyn crawled down on the passed out Krlyn. She laid on top of her and pressed her breasts into the duplicates beneath her. She patted Krlyn on the face and whispered for her to wake up. "Oh Carolyn. What happened? I think something might be wrong with us." "I think you came." "Yes last night. In my sphere." "No silly you orgasmed. It felt good right?" She slid a little down and started to hump at Krlyn's groin. "Yes. The parts of it that didn't overload my processes. What are you doing between us? That feels good." "It'd feel better without all that blue bush down there. Can you do something about that?" "Do you mean like this?" She felt the friction between them decrease to stubble and then to nothing. "You were right that does feel better. What else might feel good?" Kryln wrapped her legs around the gyrating Carolyn. "What else can you do? Maybe make these bigger?" Kryln groped at her own breasts. Carolyn watched in amazement as they swelled under her massaging fingers. Carolyn slid her own hands between Kryln's and her breasts. Kryln reached behind Carolyn and kneaded her ass. Carolyn was lost in the now easily DD sized breasts of the mirror beneath her. A fun house mirror now. Carolyn sank her lips into the stretched out nipples. Her hand tweaked the other side making Krlyn moan and writhe under her. Carolyn released the massive tits and watched the extra mass pull them down flat and flop a little off the sides of Krlyn's chest. She giggled at the absurdity of the moment. "So weird. These are great. I always thought I'd look cooler with big tits. You like it when I play with your nipples?" She flicked the nipples a few times. "Yes. Oh my, it feels so good. I think I love your body." Carolyn leaned down and kissed her own face. Felt her own tongue press against her lips and then danced with its twin. She broke the kiss and breathed heavily into Kryln's open mouth. This time Kryln was the initiator and she leaned up from the bed and kissed Carolyn. Carolyn moved her hand from Kryln's tit to the back of her head and pressed them tighter. She used her other hand and slid it between them. She tried to flick both of their clits equally but she might have spent a little more time on her own. It was only fair. She hadn't cum yet today. Carolyn broke the kiss again. "Feel like taking me for a spin? I really need it Kryln." "I want to Carolyn, but I'm not sure what to do." There was actual desperation in her eyes. Kryln really wanted to make Carolyn cum. "Oh wait I know!" Carolyn hopped up on to her knees and spun around over Kryln. "Just do what I do. Ok?" "Ok." Carolyn started by placing her two forefingers against the sides of her outer lips and massaged into the loose tissue there. After a moment she felt Kryln's fingers do the same to her. Her breath caught in her throat at the thought of another her feeling at her pussy lips. It was confusing. Hot. But confusing. She got her tongue into the action. She slid it all around the top of her pussy, waiting for the little man in the boat to stiffen a little. Kryln's tongue was slathering all over her pussy from top to bottom. She even poked in around the folds and the entrance to her vagina. Carolyn flexed her hips down into Kryln's questing mouth trying to guide it. She focused her own tongue and lips on the clit of her alien friend. Sucking at it then moving her head away to make a smacking sound. Kryln moaned into Carolyn's clit and Carolyn pressed even harder into Kryln's mouth. Carolyn put her fingers at the entrance of Kryln's wet cunt. She spread out the entrance with her thumb and fore finger. She put her tongue down deep into the depths as far as it could go. Kryln's tongue buried itself in Carolyn. Only it went much much further then was humanly possible. A thick writhing organ had slithered its way into Carolyn. Carolyn arched her back up and yelled to the empty room. Possibilities "Oh fuck! Kryln what are you doing? How can you do that?" She felt the fat lump of flesh in her cunt start to retreat. "No! Shit don't stop. I don't care that much. Keep going. Go deeper. Keep touching right here!." She dropped back down onto Kryln's clit as the tongue slid further into her. It felt so fucking good. The thick muscled organ moved all the way through her. Almost better than a cock. Every inch of it pulsed and flexed into her making squirm and moan. She kept her lips locked around Kryln's clit and worked her own tongue all over it, while her fingers were flying in and out Kryln's pussy. Finally she felt the tongue reach her cervix and the slight slithering contact set her off like a firework. She literally gushed into Kryln's mouth. Every muscle in her body vibrated at with an electric tension. Instead of arching her back she forced her head down harder on Kryln's pussy. Kryln made some kind of sound behind her, through the massive tongue buried in cunt, and quivered between Carolyn's lips. A spray of thick liquid shot into Carolyn's mouth and she tried to catch it all. Tried to suck it all down from the sopping lips of Kryln's pussy. Kryln's orgasm racked her body with the same electric tension that Carolyn had felt, but it felt like it all went running through that giant tongue buried in her pussy. She felt her cunt clamp on Kryln and she arched her back and tried to scream but it was too much. She felt her pussy gush again and Carolyn's eyes rolled back in her head. She rolled her hips as her pussy clenched around Kryln's tongue over and over again. The tongue writhed inside her. After an eternity Carolyn rolled off to the side while the massive tongue slipped from her cunt. She crawled to the head of the bed and propped herself up on the pillows. She gasped when she saw Kryln, who was propped on her elbows perpendicular to her. A massive tongue was hanging from her open mouth. It was at least eight inches long. At least as thick as her wrist where it came out of Kryln's mouth but thinning to a solid point at the end. The end of the massive organ had curled up and was trying to wrap itself around one of Kryln's fat DD tits. The pointed end of the tongue was flicking at the nipple. The look on Kryln's face was pure ecstasy. As Kryln came down from her orgasmic high, she saw Carolyn watching her while she massaged her own tits. The tongue shrunk and slathered over her fat tits as it retreated into Kryln's mouth. When she slurped the last of it in she ducked her head and looked sheepishly at Carolyn. Carolyn smiled at her blue self. "That was so fucking hot Kryln. I don't usually squirt so much. Did you know you could do that?" Kryln shrugged her shoulders. "I'm glad you liked it Carolyn. Did you like the tongue? I wasn't sure how long I could make it, but the tissues of your tongue are muscle and so they can be grown like any muscle. I wish I could do the same with my fingers. I'd love to see how deep I could get into you." "Oh? I'm glad you're getting curious to. So you can't do fingers, cause of the bone?" "Yes. That's one of the limiting factors of my control on this form. Perhaps we could...experiment some more and find out?" Kryln rolled over, then got up on her hands and knees. She crawled up Carolyn's wet body. She kissed and licked as she went. Her huge tits grazing Carolyn's skin. "Experiment? I like the sound of experimenting." She kissed her blue haired self and began to think of possibilities.