4 comments/  10300 views/  3 favorites

Squirm

By: VictorCreed24



Well, the story before this one wasn't as well received as I would've liked. But it was an important chapter for me because I wanted the characters to have that discussion first, as I view it to be very important. Anyway, now that that discussion has been had, we can move forward. And I think more people will enjoy this one and hopefully, see the prior chapter as what it was.

*****

"Keep squirming, little girl... it makes Daddy's dick that much harder." 

I do so enjoy watching her squirm. This time in particular was very fun. I'd forgone the usual ropes one might see used, opting instead for strips of bondage tape around her wrists and ankles. I'd also decided against a formal blindfold or gag - I'd instead used the bandanna I normally tied back my hair with to cover her eyes ad her own panties in her mouth to muffle her whimpers and whines as she thrashed about every so often. And though I'd removed her panties and bra, I'd left her in her cute white dress with red polka dots - the one she'd picked out to wear to the park that made her look like such an adorable fairy princess. I'd chosen to do all of these things for aesthetic reasons, honestly - you should see, dear reader, how she looked. The whole thing was carefully thought out and planned to not look carefully thought out and planned - as if I'd simply grabbed what was on hand. Add to that the low-level thrashing my little princess was doing on the couch... and it all came together to look spur-of-the-moment in the most devious and frightening ways possible. I could've split lumber without using my hands, hard as I was. 

"I want it clear..." I said from my seat across the couch from her, "that this is not a punishment. You have been on your best behavior and I am very proud of you. This is not about Daddy being upset with you. Do you understand little one?" 

As I began to speak she stopped moving, her head swiveling towards the sound of my voice. She kept her attention focused there and nodded as much as she could from her position. It was cute how she kept her rapt attention on me, even when she was unable to look at me. 

"Good." I stood up slowly, walking towards her, taking a bit of time to run my fingers through the soft curls of her hair. "I'm going to take pictures to show you how pretty you look right now. You look so precious, my little angel..." 

She began to nuzzle into my hand like a cat being petted, and I felt a grin crossing my face. I picked her phone up from the coffee table and took a few candid snapshots of per predicament, and once I was satisfied I had the perfect angles and lighting on each... I set it down and grabbed a handful of her hair in my right fist. 

"You realize I'm going to hurt you, don't you my precious little pixie?" I asked. 

She nodded. 

"I'm going to spank and choke you, tease and use you. You realize that too, don't you?" 

She nodded faster. I could practically hear her pussy getting wetter. 

"I'm going to leave my hand and teeth marks in places no one but us will ever see so you'll know you're private property. I'm going to edge you until you weep. I am going to leave you throbbing and sore. Do you understand?" 

She nodded so fast I thought her head was going to fall off. 

"And that's exactly how you want Daddy to use you... isn't it, Babydoll?" I asked her, taking the panties out of her mouth long enough for her to open her mouth and work the muscles until she could speak again. 

"Yes Daddy, oh yes Daddy. Please use your filthy little girl, Daddy, please-." 

I put the panties back into her mouth and slapped her ass before she could finish her answer. I'd heard what I needed. As excited as I already was before, hearing her beg with that pretty little voice was almost mind-breaking. I guided her up to a seated position and placed my left hand around my little princess' throat, smiling as I watched her tilt her head back and accept my grip as I applied more and more pressure to her slender little neck. 

"Daddy's gonna huuurt you..." I said in a sing-song manner, licking my lips. "Daddy's gonna huuurt you... Mmm, and that's exactly what my baby girl needs right now." I licked her cheek and growled into her ear as I kept a tight grip on her. "My little girl needs her Daddy to remind her who owns her... don't you, Babydoll?" 

I slapped her right breast through her cress before she could answer. The question was rhetorical anyway and her squeal said more than any words I could allow her to speak ever would. I slapped the left, the right again, the left again... over and over, listening to her struggle to shriek through the wadded and saliva-soaked fabric of her panties. After each tit got its 8th slap I paused, rubbing her cheek and kissing her forehead. 

"You sound so pretty when I hurt you, little one..." I whispered, kissing her forehead again. "Oh, you make such sweet music for me. You wanna make more music for Daddy? You gonna be my little music box?" 

I received a muffled 'yes daddy' through the cloth and an enthusiastic nod. So I grabbed her hair and yanked her off the couch, knees on the floor, and bent her over the coffee table. 

"Sing for me, Babydoll." 

My little girl knows the sound of my belt coming off very well by now. When she heard it in that situation, well to put it mildly... my sweet little doll put on quite the performance. At first she was thrashing and slinging her little rump side to side so much I thought she might actually manage to wiggle right on away. But that wasn't a problem - it was never her plan to even try getting loose anyway. My precious princess, instead, propped herself up into a presentation position: balanced up on her tippy-toes, ass propped high in the air, head down against the cool wood of the table. She'd told me she wanted the worst of me, but I'd never expected her to be this excited about getting it... this eager to get to it. There was a moment, reader, where I simply looked down at the feast my precious one presented me with and was simply marveling at her. I wondered for a moment if I'd ever figure her out and what I'd ever done to deserve her. 

Then I started lighting her ass up with my belt. As loud as she was with the gag in, I'm sure she could've woken several square blocks without it. She flinched, she squealed, she squirmed, and she wriggled about like a worm on a hook... but she never spent long out of position. I didn't even have to tell her to get back into place - all I had to do was hold the belt still. If I stopped for more than 5 seconds she practically threw her perfect little ass back into the air as her silent way calling out 'Thank You, Sir, may I have another?' 

When I hiked her dress up out the way and began laying lashes right to her bare bottom, she wasn't quite as quick with her repositioning. But to her credit, she got that booty back up in the air despite that. 

It was at strike 28 overall, strike 10 without her dress in the way, that I began to notice just how wet Babydoll was getting. I wrapped the belt around my right hand and rubbed the middle and ring fingers of my left against her briefly, pulling them away and marveling and the sopping sticky mess she'd become down there. She was practically dripping onto the floor already. 

"Look at this..." I said, taking the soft silk out of her mouth for the time being. "I haven't even touched your little princess place once... and the first time I do, my hand is drenched." I placed the fingers near her mouth for clean-up, which she did eagerly. "All of that and all I've done is spank you? You must really like it when Daddy hurts you, huh?" 

"Mmmph... yes Daddy, yesssssss..." she groaned out, the last part hissed through clenched teeth as I grabbed her hair again. "It hurts so good, it hurts so good..." 

I guided my little princess up to her feet, then into her tip-toes, grinning as I gripped her neck again. "You're a dirty little thing, aren't you?" 

"Yesssssss, Daddy..." 

"Your little cunt throbs when I hurt you, doesn't it?" I slapped her right breast before she could answer. 

"Fuuuuuuuuuck... yes, Daddy." 

"And being at my mercy is your favorite place to be, isn't it little girl?" Another slap. 

"Yes, yes, yesssssss Daddy..." 

I took the same two fingers I'd caressed her hunt with and began fucking her face with them. "Hopeless little fuckdoll..." I growled, pulling them out only to wipe my hands off on her cheek. "Drooling from both holes like the greedy, desperate toy you are. You look so pretty when you're ruined." 

"Guh... phaaah... then ruin me, Daddy..." she rasped out, legs trembling from being on her toes so long. "Hurt me as much as it please... phaaah... break me into pieces... do with me whatever you want. As long as you enjoy me, I will endure anything else." 

"Silly girl... what use is a broken toy?" I said this as I turned her around, feeling her tense as she began to brace for more spankings. "If I did break you, I'd merely put you back together." I slid my hand between her thighs, pulling her hair back as I roughly rubbed her clit. "I'm gonna make you y little ballerina Babydoll... I'm gonna make your dance right on that line... right at your breaking point. Just so you know I can bring you there." 

I knew as I was saying those words I meant them. I also knew that saying those words and meaning them meant that I was hopelessly falling in love with her. This strange, short, beautiful woman with her natural black hair and the melanin-saturated skin and the sweetest of sweet voices and a body and mind built for sin was taking my soul and heart. And I wasn't even sure she knew it. Moreso than showing her my dark side in its fullest form, this terrified me in a way I cannot explain. And then, she said a single phrase that launched me into a full-on free fall. 

"And if I start to go over the edge..." she whimpered in a breathy voice, her little voice, the voice she always used when calling me 'Daddy' with degrees of both need to be owned and a sense of ownership, "Daddy will be there to catch me?" 

I wrapped my arm around her, squeezing her softer, smaller form against me. I felt like I'd just given blood - lightheaded and dizzy, on the verge of swooning. I closed my eyes and kissed her until the woozy feeling made me feel like the world around us was spinning, like we were the center of our own little galaxy. Nothing outside of us in this moment mattered. 

"Always, my little princess. Always." 

She let out an adorable little squeak and shivered against me, and I had to hold her tighter as I felt her knees give up on her at last. 

"You'll make your Babydoll fall in love, Daddy..." 

I held her like that a few moments longer, swaying with her back against my chest, cherishing this intimate moment we were having. Then I began lubing up my fingers and slid the middle one into her tight little asshole with barely any warning as she groaned and whimpered at the intrusion. 

"Daddy claims ownership of all your holes, Babydoll..." I growled into her ear. "You will give each of them to me at my whim, without hesitation. I will take them without hesitation, any time and place it suits me. Are we clear?" 

"Yes, yes Daddy...! Nnnghaaaah... all yours, always yours..." 

"I will turn you into my private butt slut, who constantly prepares her ass and begs for Daddy's cock in this hole like she does with all her other holes." 

"Ooooooooh... fuck..." I could hear moist squishing as her thighs rubbed together, the though alone making her leak like a faucet. 

I reached onto the coffee table and picked up the small princess plug I'd gotten for her, replacing my finger wit it after a bit of gentle coaxing and effort. She seemed rather surprised... but she didn't shy away and nodded when I asked if she was okay. From there, I laid her out on the table, still bound and blindfolded, and took the Hitachi to her pussy. She wasn't used to the sensation of having an orgasm with something stuffed in her ass. I loved introducing my little girl to new things, of course... and I love spending an evening giving my little fuckdoll more orgasms she thought she could bare. I edged her 3 times with the Hitachi, her screams and whimpers of pleasure as she begged to cum like music in my ears... then as she approached orgasm for the 4th time I began talking to her. 

"I think my little fuckdoll would like an orgasm now, yes?" 

She nodded furiously. 

"Hmm. Well, I'm almost inclined to give you one. But first answer all my questions to the best of your ability. Can you do that for Daddy, little girl?" 

She nodded again, biting her bottom lip. There were tears soaking through the blindfold now. She looked so desperate that part of me did just want to start fucking her but... I held off for the time being. There'd be time for that. 

"Tell me little girl... Are you about to cum?" 

"Yes, Daddy... if you let me." 

"So you're about to cum with a plug shoved up your ass?" I took the head of the Hitachi wand off her pussy and licked her juices from it. Just as I thought, all the suffering and denial made them taste so much sweeter. "Only dirty girls cum like that, y'know. Guess that makes you a dirty girl huh?" 

"Yessss, Daddy... I'm a dirty girl, I'm your dirty girl..." She thrashed a bit, testing the tape. It still wouldn't budge. She had that sugary tone of desperation in her voice, the one that crept into a person's voice when they were willing to do or say anything. There was an unspoken 'motherfucker, let me cum and I'll say you're Mary Queen of Scotts if that's what you wanna hear, just let me cum please!' in how she said things. 

"Good. Repeat it until I say otherwise." I turned the wand back on and stared at it for a while. "If you stop saying what a dirty girl you are, it better be to ask permission to cum. Otherwise I'll edge you the rest of the night for the fun of it." 

With that I placed the toy back to her clit and listened to her squealing and whimpering as she called herself a 'dirty little girl' over and over. After a while I made her sing it just for laughs. It wasn't long before she was begging for permission to cum.

Squirrel Valentine



Squirrel Valentine - A reminiscence of the 1950s.

***********************************

Copyright Oggbashan January 2004 

The author asserts the moral right to be Identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

***********************************

I still think of Janice as a squirrel; a fluffy creature that moves in small darting movements flicking its out of scale tail to express itself. She is now a grandmother yet her every movement reminds me of her younger self.

Janice and I were civil servants in a large office. I sat on the right side of the room. She sat on the left side slightly forward of me so my most frequent view of her was her back or her profile as she turned towards her colleague Sally. Beside me was my girl chasing companion Tom.

Almost the whole office, except the dragon of a supervisor, were young because the department was newly formed and the first major civil service unit in our town. 

The whole building was buzzing with excitement because the social club had organised a Valentine's Dance for Saturday night. Dates were being sought from all the eligible young ladies. I had asked Janice twice. Each time she had refused with a smile. The second time of asking she suggested that I would be better advised to go to the dance alone and take my chance. She would be going with Sally who had refused Tom's invitation. I had hoped for more because the Sunday would be my twenty-second birthday. I would have liked to spend it with Janice.

I loved Janice. Whenever my duties allowed I would watch her, cautiously to avoid a rebuke from our supervisor. Even when I wasn't watching I was acutely conscious of the flick of her high ponytail. It started high on her head and fell in a glorious curve of blonde hair with a slight reddish tinge. It was her natural colour because hair colouring then was harsh and obvious.

That ponytail was constantly moving with every slight change in Janice's position. Whenever she turned towards Sally the ponytail swayed one way and then swung back. Janice's ponytail impaired my working proficiency. If I hadn't been naturally a fast worker I would have been reprimanded for my slackness. As it was the supervisor was disappointed in me. She expected more than I gave and I think she knew that Janice was the cause of my distraction.

When Janice stood up and walked I couldn't work. She wore mid calf length dresses with the fashionable silhouette; a fitted bodice, a wide belt and a wide flaring skirt to mid calf. The skirt was puffed out with softly rustling taffeta and net. At the office Janice wore only two or three petticoats. The supervisor wouldn't approve or accept extremes of fashion from anyone. Janice went as close as she could to official disapproval. If she was going out after work she retired to the Ladies to increase the width of her skirt.

Her bust strained at the bodice in whichever dress she wore. I dreamed about the crease under her bosom and the small gap at her scooped neckline where the buttoned seam was pulled slightly apart.

Tom told me that I was a bore about Janice. I suppose I was. I told him over and over again how much I fancied her and wanted a date. He was nearly as bad about Sally. He wanted Sally. Did he love her? I don't think so. She was just another challenge. To me Sally was almost invisible as she sat beside Janice. Sally's only use to me was to get Janice to turn her head, bob her ponytail and display Janice's profile. I didn't mind how often Sally spoke to Janice because each time she did I saw Janice's face and watched her move. 

Sally was a contrast. She and Janice were almost inseparable. They shared a flat and sat beside each other at work. Both were tall for women but shorter than Tom and I. Sally's dresses were in a similar style to Janice's but in a much larger size. Where Janice's breasts were two clearly conical shapes pushing against her fitted bodice, Sally had a broad soft bosom that had no obvious division. Sally's waist was half as wide again as Janice's. Her skirts were larger but not puffed so wide. Sally's brown curls spread across her shoulders with none of the animation of Janice's flicking ponytail.

Yet I could talk to Sally. In Janice's presence I was tongue-tied, blushing and overcome with emotion. Sally was a colleague. I knew more about Sally than I knew about Janice. Sally liked fish and chips from the paper. I didn't know whether Janice ate. She was my ideal woman; did ideals have digestive systems? I thought they didn't.

The week of the Valentine's dance started with Valentine's Day itself. I had bought a Valentine's card with a red squirrel holding a heart. Tom had bought a card as well. He didn't show to me the picture but he wrote my card and I wrote his. We addressed each other's envelope in block capitals, he wrote Janice's name on mine; I wrote Sally's name on his.

Then we placed each card in an official reusable envelope and filled the next vacant address space with the girl's name. We had taken the official envelope from the stationery cupboard so that our names would not be immediately above theirs.

At the end of the day before Valentine's Day we put our envelopes in the general out-tray just before the elderly messenger's time for collection. They would be sorted by the time we started work tomorrow and should be deposited in the girls' in-trays on the first delivery. I noticed that the out-tray was unusually full for this last collection but paid no attention.

I was usually the first to arrive at work. This morning I came even earlier before the first delivery to the in-trays. I checked that my missive had arrived in Janice's tray. If I had thought about it I needn't have gone through the charade of addressing the cards. I could have dropped my card in Janice's tray, and Tom's card in Sally's before anyone else arrived. The addressing of the cards was really schoolboyish.

I walked round the whole office. Half the office staff is female, most under twenty-five. I was so infatuated with Janice that I barely noticed the others. Sally I noticed because she and Janice were together so often. Almost all the women's in trays had similar envelopes to those Tom and I had sent. Even our supervisor had two and she is forty if she is a day. I know she is single, again, but who would send her a Valentine? It seemed indecent. The men's trays were innocent of such things. Men were supposed to send the cards, not women, except in Leap Years.

That morning affected our supervisor strangely. She was obviously pleased with her cards. I thought the constant feminine twittering in the room might irritate her. She sat there with a smirk on her face. I feared an explosion but it never came.

Janice and Sally found their cards. Tom and I were watching them closely as they opened the envelopes. To my horror my card was only one of many, a dozen at least. Even Sally had a similar number. They showed the cards to each other and giggled at the verses inside. All around us the women were exchanging cards and comparing quantities. 

Mary, the plainest girl in the room, sat immediately behind me. She had received the most cards. I'd sent Mary one. So had Tom. It looked as if every male in the office had done the same. She deserved them. Mary was the kindest person I knew. She was the one who organised flowers if someone was ill, calmed down the disagreements that happen in an office, organised the tea rota, and was a prime mover in arranging the Valentine dance. Mary was the oil that made things work.

Tom and I watched carefully for any sign of acknowledgement from Sally and Janice but none came. Disappointed, I applied myself to my work so diligently that my output for the morning was as much as two normal days. That received a 'well done' from the supervisor without the usual implication that I should as well every day.

At lunchtime Tom and I joined Sally and Janice at their table. We both asked again to be their partners at the Valentine's dance but got a definite refusal tempered by agreement that we could have at least one dance each. We had to be satisfied with that which was more than we had been offered before.

The rest of the week was the same as any other except for a slight crescendo of excitement at the office on Saturday morning as the dance was close. It wasn't just that it was to celebrate Valentine's Day. It was only the second social function organised at the office. The last had been the Christmas Party; a sad affair. The managers and supervisors had ensured that. The only drink apart from juices had been the fruit cup. We doubted that it had as much as half a bottle of gin in five gallons.

Under the fake mistletoe Sally had kissed me full on the lips. I had kissed Mary, who had responded cautiously at first, and then she had wrapped her arms around me in a hug. I had been startled when she kissed me again. She stood beside me for a few minutes with her arm round my waist before Janice approached. Mary had withdrawn so delicately that I didn't notice her go. Janice had given me a fleeting peck on the cheek, but no further encouragement since then, apart from the promise of one dance this weekend.

Tom and I took extra care with our appearance for the dance. Last night I had polished my dancing shoes. Saturday afternoon I bathed with an expensive soap tablet. I used a new razor blade. I had collected our best suits from the dry cleaners, ironed my shirt and tie and even my underpants and vest. A triangle of ironed handkerchief showed in my breast pocket. Tom had bought buttonholes for both of us and paid our bus fares. My contribution had been the dry cleaning, the soap and the packet of razorblades.


We presented our printed tickets at the door of the Church hall. We were early, too early. Our supervisor, dressed to the nines in a floor sweeping evening frock, ordered us to help set out tables and chairs around the edges of the hall. The band was setting up on stage. I recognised them as being the band who played for Old Tyme Dance afternoons that my parents had dragged me along to as a spotty teenager. The band looked the same, just older, but one of the grey-haired men was clutching an incongruous electric guitar as if he expected it to explode in his hands. 

Apart from our supervisor, plain Mary was the only woman present. When the band struck up a waltz I asked our supervisor for a dance. Tom asked Mary. The few other men present looked at us as if we were mad.

Our supervisor was an accomplished waltzer. She made us look as if we knew what we were doing but without making it obvious that she was in charge. Ethel, for that is her name, complimented me on my dancing. I was trying to avoid treading on the flying hem of her skirt. I managed to respond suitably and I admitted that I appreciated her skill.

Tom was dancing with Mary, better than I was with Ethel. He didn't have to contend with a long skirt. Mary was wearing the fashionable cotton shirtwaist but with so little under the skirt that it hung in dejected folds.

At the end of the waltz we swapped partners for the foxtrot. I thought a silent thanks to my parents' foresight. Mary and I were demonstrating how a fox trot should be performed when Janice and Sally arrived. At the end of that dance the band started a tango, rather early in the proceedings I thought since we were the only couples on the floor, but Mary threw herself into it with fake South American fervour. Mary's long straight mousey hair was shedding hairpins across the floor. Her unencumbered full skirt billowed out as she twisted and turned.

I was enjoying the dancing and the baffled expressions on the other men. Apart from Sally and Janice who were claiming a table with their coats and adjusting their dresses to flare their petticoats, there were no other women present. Tom and I had claimed all those available.

As we passed I saw that Tom was embarrassed by Ethel's animation. She was wrapping herself around him and tangling his feet with her skirt. Mary was equally enthusiastic; as she was young with curves in the correct places I was enjoying myself and I think she was too. At the end of that tango a ripple of applause greeted us.

I led Mary to a table and prepared to sit the next dance out with her. She had just pinned her hair up again when she was asked for a dance. Tom was relieved of Ethel by one of the senior managers. I hoped to ask Janice but she was already on the floor. So was Sally. 

Janice's ponytail was flying around her head as she twirled. Her skirt was packed so full of taffeta and net that it seemed starched into a bell shape that barely dented against her partner's legs. Sally's skirt flared and twirled showing flashes of petticoat. I watched Janice and her ponytail much more than Sally. Even so I appreciated Sally's bouncing breasts and the glimpses of her legs as her skirt swung. Mary's skirt lashed her partner, winding round him before a reverse turn swung it away.

I didn't get a chance to get near Janice until most of the guests had arrived. As I approached some other blighter beat me to her. I turned to Sally who accepted my invitation graciously.

I danced another waltz with Sally. As we could waltz competently we were able to talk. She startled me.

"Harry, you are wasting your time with Janice," Sally said abruptly.

"Why am I?" I retorted.

"She isn't interested in you."

I didn't ask how Sally knew that. Sally was Janice's flatmate, colleague and best friend. If Sally was telling the truth then she was the best person to know how Janice felt about anything.

"Can you tell me why not? Do I have bad breath? Pimples?" 

Sally seemed to change the subject.

"You haven't got any sisters, have you?

"No. Nor brothers." I was puzzled.

"Any female cousins?"

"No. All my cousins are male." I wasn't sure what Sally was implying.

"That probably explains it." Sally announced.

"Explains what?"

"Why you see Janice the way you do."

"And how do I see Janice?" I was getting irritated. I think it showed.

"Can we sit out the next dance together?" Sally asked. "I think this conversation will be important to you. Please?"

"OK."

At the end of the dance she led me by the hand to her table. We sat down. The girls' coats occupied all nut two chairs. Sally had left me a chair with its back to the dancing. I offered to get her a drink but she declined with an impatient shake of her head. I noticed that her brown curls swayed attractively.

"Bear with me for a while, Harry. I may seem to be off the point but I think you need to think about how you feel about Janice."

I nodded cautiously.

"I didn't need to ask you about sisters or cousins. I knew. Before I knew Janice and I had guessed. You don't act as if you know much about girls or women."

I must have looked insulted. She held up a hand to stop any protest.

"Do you know what sort of books Janice likes to read? Or if she reads books at all?"

"No..."

"Which radio programmes does she listen to?"

I shook my head.

"What films she would like to see?"

I shook my head again.

"What she would like to do on her holidays?"

Another shake.

"If I asked you the same questions about Mary, would you know the answers?"

"Yes, probably. What I don't know I could guess reasonably."

"And about me?"

"Yes. You like Agatha Christie..."

"Enough! Do you see what I am getting at?"

"Not really."

"You don't know anything about Janice..."

That time I opened my mouth to speak. Sally pressed her hand lightly over my lips.

"Let me finish. Then you can speak." She lifted her hand away.

"As I was saying, you don't know anything about Janice. You like what you see and think you are in love..." Her hand poised to cut off my response. "...but you are not. At least not with Janice. You are in love with a fantasy that is not her. It is like a crush on an older woman. You imagine Janice to be an angel, a divine being who walks on air, not a woman with failings. Is she your first real love? You can answer that."

"Yes." I said very softly.

"It shows. But she isn't. She isn't who you think she is. She is Janice: not your ideal woman. Don't get me wrong. I like Janice. She's my friend but I know the good and bad about her. She knows as much about me. Do you ever think that 'your' Janice could have smelly feet?"

The idea horrified me. "No!"

"She has. She wears her stockings for too long each day. She should take them off when we get back to the flat. She wears them until she goes to bed. That makes her feet sweaty and smelly. We argue about it sometimes. She complains about some of my habits as well. I won't tell you about them. Maybe you'll find out one day. They won't matter to you as much as Janice's smelly feet. Why? Because I'm not your ideal woman."

"I think you are being unfair," I retorted.

"Am I? Have the smelly feet dented Janice's halo? Tarnished her image?"

"Yes."

"That is the point. If you loved the real Janice they wouldn't matter. You might join me in persuading her to wash her stockings more often but they wouldn't affect your love for her. The fact that they do is proof that you DON'T love Janice. You love an image of her that you have created."

She paused looking at me carefully. I thought about what she had said. The smelly feet, true or not, had changed my vision of Janice.

"Now will you please get me the drink you offered earlier? We need to talk some more, don't we?"

"Yes, Sally. I'll get the drink."

I started to walk across to the trestle table where the drinks were on sale. I stopped after a few steps and turned back to Sally.

"Sorry, Sally, I didn't ask what drink you would like."

"Well done, Harry. That's a start. Cola, please."

I nodded and went for the drinks. A start of what? I returned with the drinks. The next dance was starting and Janice was still on the floor, ponytail swinging. That didn't seem so important as it had. She had promised me a dance. I knew she would keep her promise. The conversation with Sally had made me think. Did I love Janice? 

We sat sipping our drinks.

"Thank you for the Valentine Card, Harry," Sally said.

I nearly choked on my drink.

Sally laughed.

"Don't worry. I know you didn't intend to send me a Valentine. But you addressed the one to me, didn't you? Tom addressed your squirrel to Janice."

I didn't answer. What could I say?

"How do I know? Mary sits just behind you two. She can see and hear everything you do. She's a friend, not just mine but yours too. She's worried about your attitude to Janice otherwise she wouldn't have said a word. She hasn't, not to Janice, but only to me. Did you know that you two were so tactless that you even discussed the cards you were sending to Mary?"

"We didn't!"

"You did."

"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to. We like Mary."

"So does almost everyone. It's a shame that nobody loves her. Maybe that will come sometime. She appreciated that you were sending her a Valentine because you like her, not because you were sorry for her, nor because you want to go to bed with her. Dancing with her as you did just now was a good way to compensate for your lack of tact. You danced well together and seemed to be enjoying it. You were, weren't you?"

"Yes. Mary is a good partner."

"And I'm sure sometime she will make a good wife. Her husband could always put a paper bag over her head."

"That's cruel, Sally."

"Is it? Mary overhears that sort of comment frequently, I admit not from you or Tom but from some of the others. That's one of the reasons why she wants to help you. She knows what it is like to be judged on your appearance. That's what you have been doing to Janice. She doesn't like it, just like Mary doesn't like it."




Squirrels in the Attic



It was just after 2am and the third straight night that my wife woke me up asking if I had heard the noise. She was a much lighter sleeper than I, so before tonight, had heard them alone. At first I thought it was the wind, but it was calm outside. I listened more closely. It sounded like something was scurrying across the floor above us. Perhaps we had mice I thought. But then I heard thumping and rolling sounds that were much louder than mice could make. My wife was frightened and wanted to me to go up in the attic that very minute. I was a little nervous myself but convinced her that it would be better to do first thing tomorrow. The ruckus continued for several more minutes before I drifted off to sleep. 

A little while later I was awakened by some rustling in the bed next to me. I turned towards my wife. After my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I could see that she had thrown back the blanket, hiked up her nightgown, and was masturbating. I reached over and began to lightly circle her nipples. She started to explain that she couldn't sleep but I shushed her – wanting to enjoy the sight of her playing. As she her hands busied themselves with her pussy I eased her nightgown up over her breasts and began to lick as gently bite her nipples. She was soon moaning and quickly moving her fingers over her clit. She told me to fuck her. Since I always slept naked, there was no time wasted undressing. I just got myself between her legs and easily slid into the warm wetness of her pussy. She held my buttocks as her hips raised up to thrust against me. She commanded me to fuck her hard and fast. I obliged and after just a few deep thrusts, she had an orgasm that caused her to dig her nails into my back. Feeling the walls of her pussy contracting and clenching my cock, I shot my load deep into her. 

Shortly afterwards, we were both on the verge of sleep when the attic ruckus began again. This time it didn't last long, but it was enough to make me realize that something had to be done.

The next morning before heading for work I grabbed a flashlight, pulled down the folding attic stairs from the ceiling in our guest room, and went up. When I turned on the flashlight, I heard scampering and followed the movement with my light. I was shocked to see three squirrels moving quickly towards the corner of the attic to my left. Even more shocking was the sight of them disappearing out a hole in that corner. I quickly crawled over the planks and crossbeams to inspect the corner. I could see scratches on the wood around the hole and shavings underneath it. Feeling the wood around the hole, I could immediately tell that it was rotting. This would make the job of gnawing or scratching through it much easier for the squirrels. 

My wife was eagerly waiting for me in the kitchen. I told her my discovery and that we needed to get some pest control people out as soon as possible. She got the phonebook and found a local one. I called, explained the problem and was lucky to make an appointment for them to come out later that day.

As the men from the pest control company went about their business, I waited in the kitchen sipping a beer. They had assessed the problem and explained that it would be best to trap the squirrels in the attic and remove them so they were no longer near the house. In order to do this, a cone-shaped wire plug would be put in the hole that the squirrels had made. The device would allow the squirrels to come in, but not get out. Because they would get hungry, the squirrels would then be more likely to go for the bait in the traps set throughout the attic. 

When they had finished, one of the men asked me to walk around the house with them. He indicated several wet spots on the flashing beneath the roof and recommended replacing the wood with aluminum flashing. He then pointed out how close the tree branches in our front and side yard were to the house – suggesting that we hire a tree service to trim them back. Before leaving, he told me that even though we were craving an immediate solution to the problem we would have to be a patient. He thought it would take up to a week before the squirrels were all inside and interested in the bait. 

That evening I told my wife what the pest company did and what they had recommended. When I told her how long it might take, she told me she was exhausted and going to bed right after dinner. 

Despite her best intentions for a good night's sleep, the squirrels would have none of it. We were awakened by their ruckus three straight nights before things finally quieted down. The morning after that peaceful night I went into the attic to see if the squirrels had been trapped. Turning on my flashlight, I quickly discovered a squirrel in the trap nearest the folding stairs. Panning the rest of the attic with my light I saw that there were no other trapped squirrels, but once again noticed movement towards the corner to my left. Catching the movement with my light, I was dismayed to see a squirrel stop in the corner and then quickly disappear outside. Not believing my eyes, I crossed the planks and crossbeams to find that there was a newly gnawed hole right next to where the cone-shaped device had plugged the previous one. 

I cursed and then went back downstairs. I told my wife. She said we needed to get the flashing replaced. I called a friend of mine who was a carpenter and explained our problem to him. He said he had to finish up another job but could get out to our house within a day or two. My wife contacted a tree service and made arrangements for them to come out the next day. I then called the pest control company and said we had a trapped squirrel for them to pick up.

We endured another week's worth of being disturbed by the squirrels, but once all the repairs and services were finished - resulting in three more trapped squirrels, it felt something like a MasterCard commercial: 

"New aluminum roof flashing and trim: $1600

Tree service: $300 

Pest Control Company: $300 

A good night's sleep: PRICELESS."

Finally rid of the pests we had enjoyed several weeks of peaceful slumber until I had the strangest dream. I dreamed I was a squirrel...

I was still a little behind on the gathering of acorns and seeds that I needed to make it through the winter. There was a sense that there would be snow soon, so the pressure was on. I headed out of the hole that several of us had gnawed at the top of house we had found. The wood was soft from rot and that made our chore easy. I got on the roof and from there, scurried across some wires to a wooden pole on the other side of the road. I scampered across the lawn at the bottom of the pole to the forest. I hadn't foraged in this spot yet and shortly after arriving, was happy to discover that many of the other squirrels hadn't either. 

I spent the entire day occupied with the task of gathering – returning to the house that I planned to nest in for the winter at sundown. It took quite awhile to sort and store what I had collected. My cache was now adequate for the winter. After a brief snack, I contentedly began to clean myself – thinking that tonight would be a good night to celebrate. When I got down to my privates and began to lick my squirrel balls, I realized from my arousal that it had been awhile since I had coupled with another squirrel A nice roll in the warmth of this shelter would be a great way to celebrate, I thought. 

I knew that at least one female squirrel was nesting in the attic, so after spending a few extra minutes sprucing up, I headed across the floorboards to the corner opposite mine. She glared at me when I stopped five feet in front of where she was resting. Fortunately, I had remembered to bring a couple good sized acorns with me. I set them down in front of me and then began to lick my privates. I was quickly aroused. She took note of that and the acorns before quickly dashing off. Since chasing is part of the ritual for mating, I gave her a bit of a head start then hurried after her. I chased her for what seemed like a long time, but was more likely just a few seconds. Finally, she slowed down just enough for me to leap onto her back. She tucked her head and rolled forward. With my claws securely attached to the fur on her back, I grabbed hold of her neck with my mouth. My aroused squirrel cock slid into her squirrel slit as we tumbled over the floor boards. After a couple of thrusts I shot my squirrel seed into her... 

I groaned and thrashed about, muttering something undecipherable as I bolted awake. My wife heard me and reaching over to touch my naked shoulder asked if I was okay. I told her that I just had a strange dream. 

When she asked what about, I said: "I think it was about those damn squirrels!"

With a soothing voice, she told me to close my eyes and try to go back to sleep. Reaching under the covers, she found my cock. I don't know if it was in its usual state upon waking or if it was because of the dream I had just had, but my cock was raging hard. My wife slid her fingers up and down it a couple times and then squeezed. A big drop of pre-cum oozed from the tip. My wife peeled down the covers and rubbed the slippery juice all over my cock. 

"Squirrels, huh?" she said teasingly.

Kneeling over me, she cupped my balls with one hand and gripping my cock with the other, placed it in her mouth. She expertly deep-throated me – sucking as she gently rolled my balls in her palm. That was all it took - a matter of seconds. I moaned and exploded - my cum spurting into her mouth as she eagerly swallowed. 

Afterwards, my wife snuggled in my arms and asked what I had really dreamed about. Now, we all struggle at times remembering dreams and since I was contentedly ready to drop off to sleep, I conveniently murmured the easy excuse that I had forgotten. I gave her a hug – appreciative that she had helped me get back to sleep. I slept well the rest of that night, but the memory of that dream has lingered. 



Squirrely Reunion



I had been married and divorced once, and now married to my second wife. Let's call her Jean. She is six years younger than my almost forty. She is attractive, and I was once considered so, though the years do take their toll.

We had been married for just a over a year and were on vacation in Mexico, when IT happened. We were at one of those all inclusive resorts, with a couple of pools and nice restaurants. The 'IT' that happened, happened at the pool. 

Jean was dousing herself in sunscreen, you know the way women do, that you just can't help but watch. Rubbing up and down their legs and then moving to their arms, somehow their breast move in a hypnotic way when they do this. She had just finished with her left arm then turned to do her right and she said "Oh shit." I followed her gaze across the pool, to a fellow who had just entered the pool area.

My wife quickly folded a towel, lay down on her sunbed, and placed the folded towel over her face, as if blocking the sun from her eyes. I looked back across the pool and spotted the guy talking to couple of other guys. It appeared he hadn't seen Jean and didn't seem to be paying any attention to our area of the pool.

I sat on my own sunbed with my shades covering my eyes, but I was watching the guy. He finished his conversation and strolled around the pool. He seemed to be looking for a vacant sunbed. Luck would have it that the one on the other side of Jean was vacant. He continued to stroll around till he came to a stop in front of me. But his eyes were on my wife.

"Jean is that you?" He asked the towel faced woman. I couldn't help but notice that he was in good shape and probably an inch or so taller than my 5' 10''. 

My wife sat up and removed the towel. "Brad. What are you doing here? How on earth did you recognize me?"

"My company sends all the managers down here once a year for a little R&R. And I would recognize that body anywhere." He said with more than a little too much familiarity.

As I said, my wife is attractive, and she certainly does her black bikini justice. I saw Jean glance nervously toward his package a couple of times, so I glanced there too. What my wife's breasts did to that bikini top, was nothing compared to what Brad's brief swimsuit had to bear. The guy was packing some serious meat.

My wife suddenly remembered I was present. "Brad, this is my husband ...umm Mike." Did she just forget my name?

"Pleased to meet you Mike. You are a very lucky man."

"I agree. Nice to meet you too." If he meant what I thought he meant, I was indeed a lucky man. My wife is exceptional in the bedroom. Best I have ever had, and far better than my ex. "Would you care to join us?" I offered politely. 

"Honey, I'm sure Brad has other.."

"I would love to." Brad said, interrupting Jean.

Here's the rub. Being over thirty, I assumed my wife had her fair share of experience. I certainly had by that age. I also knew the names of a few of her past boyfriends. The name Brad being among them. I had never asked nor had she ever elaborated on her sexual experiences. So along comes this Brad, and I assume it to be that Brad, and Brad is packing something the size of a squirrel in his swimsuit. Let's just say I was a bit curious.

We have a few drinks together, and Brad seems a nice enough guy. Nothing really untoward happens, other than my wife's obvious nervous glances at the squirrel.

After too much sun and probably too many drinks, we say our goodbyes and go back to our room. Where, immediately, my wife proceeds to take carnal knowledge of my body. There could only be one explanation for her sudden need. The squirrel. I will have to thank Brad.

We leave our room eventually for a late dinner. Who do you think arrived in the restaurant right after us. Right on your first guess. 

"I see someone else had to recover from the afternoon sun." Came the voice behind us. "Did you take a nap like I did?" 

We were laughing when the hostess came up and said "Three for dinner? Right this way." So it came to be that we shared a dinner table with Brad. Over dinner we talked like old friends, and Jean seemed a bit less nervous. Afterward Brad asked Jean to dance, and off they went. It was a small dance floor with only a few couples dancing to the slow music. When they returned I could tell the squirrel was awake, though not as well outlined in his dress slacks as it had been in his swimwear. A few minutes later they danced again, and upon their return, the squirrel appeared to be climbing the tree in search of a place to stick his nut. 

I wasn't too happy about this, because I could see it had a definite affect on Jean. She was again very nervous. She claimed a headache from the booze and we retired to our room. 

Brad was leaving the next day, but we had another two nights stay. If I ever saw him again, I would have to thank him for the enthusiastic sex I was the beneficiary of in his stead.

After the first round, as I took inventory of all my bodyparts, I ask Jean about her relationship with Brad. "We dated for awhile, that's all." She dodged. 

"I knew that at the pool. What happened between you two. There doesn't seem to be any animosity of a bad breakup."

"No. We parted as friends. We both realized we wanted different things in life." She allowed.

"What kind of different things?" I pushed. 

"You know. Basic things. I want a home and a family. He wanted to be single and 'Spread his wings'." She said making air quotes, with more than a little sarcasm in her voice.

She began trying to rejuvenate my adequate though somewhat slim seven incher. When I entered her I said "Looked like Brad has some serious meat." I stroked her a bit then asked "Does he?" 

Jean moaned out a "Mmhm." 

after a few more minutes I asked "Did you like it?" She didn't respond. So I asked "Did he press it against you when you were dancing?" 

"Mmmmm" Was all I got from her.

When she started throwing her hips up to me, something she does when she is headed for an orgasm and wants to get there faster, I asked "Are you thinking of Brad... Are you thinking of his big cock?"

She got there, big time, and moaned "Yes oh god yes" I lost it then, and dumped my load in her. We both fell asleep in exhaustion.

That's how the rest of the trip went. Daytime sightseeing and tourist stuff, nights filled with sex. I encouraged her to talk about Brad and she would get almost dripping wet and rape me. Yes, I know you can't rape the willing, but you get my drift.

The only new information I gleaned was that Brad, and the beast in his pants, had some sort of hold on her. She couldn't resist him when they were together, she'd agree to anything he wanted while fucking. I'd like that kind of power over women.

We returned home and I couldn't get it out of my head. I would see her in the shower and think of him being in there with her. Bending her over and fucking her from behind. I would be fingering her pussy and ask her if he did that to her. Or I would nibble her tits and ask if he did that too. The answer was alway yes. I wondered it he had fucked her ass, though I was afraid to ask. I wasn't allowed there so I didn't want to know he had been.

I asked her point blank one day, how big his cock was. The answer, "Big. Really big."

I started worrying how she could even enjoy my meager endowment. I read stuff on the internet about women's preferences. Most said length wasn't as important as width. As I said earlier, I'm a bit on the thin side, and I doubted that Brad was. I know that women tell us that size doesn't matter, but we guys know otherwise. Even if it doesn't matter to them, it matters to us. It's a guy thing.

My thoughts were consumed with images of Jean and Brad having the kind of sex we all dream about. Pure, raw, unfettered, passionate, mind blowing SEX. Especially while we were having our usual mundane, run of the mill sex. I would be trying to hold back so Jean could get hers, and the images would hit me. That would be the end. I would cum buckets.

I know I was driving her crazy with my constant demands for information, just to fuel my fantasies and my own craziness. 

Then another IT happened. Six months after the Mexico trip, I had a business meeting to deal with a company that wanted to be a supplier for my company. I didn't put two and two together till I walked into the meeting, and there was Brad. 

Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment, maybe I wanted something to happen. Maybe I'm just a fucking idiot. I invited Brad to dinner. 

"Don't you think that Jean would mind?" He asked

"Jean loves to entertain, and she's a great cook. Besides, we all had such fun together in Mexico, it will be like old times." I did call Jean and tell her I was bringing a colleague to dinner. I wanted to surprise her so I didn't say who. 

Surprised is one term for her reaction to seeing Brad come through the door. Shocked shitless would be another. The after effect might be deemed pissed off. She dragged me into the kitchen to 'help' her. "What the fuck is Brad doing here?" She asked through clenched teeth.

As I tried to explain my actions, she poured and downed a large glass of wine. "He seems like a nice guy. We enjoyed his company before, I thought you would be happy to see him again." All of which, of course, was bullshit.

She finished the wine and poured another. "You know what he does to me. Why would you invite trouble into the house?"

I pulled her close and kissed her. "Maybe I just wanted a repeat of what you did after dancing with him." I said in my most lecherous voice. "You know you liked it." She just looked at me funny, and handed me a platter of food to take into the dining room.

Dinner went without incident, other than Jean finishing off a bottle of wine and opening another. She didn't eat much either. I could tell she was getting a little drunk, which almost guarantees I'm gonna get laid. When she started to clear the table, Brad offered to help. I went to the den to pour us a brandy.

It was probably fifteen minutes before Brad came to the den. I could see a large bulge in his pants. I wondered if something had occurred in the kitchen, which made my own dick stir. Jean joined us with yet another glass of wine. She excused herself and went to the bathroom. While she was gone, Brad said "That is the hottest woman I've ever met."

"Yes. She's something for sure." I responded.

"Does she still do that trick with her tongue and throat when she's .."

Jean returned interrupting him. "What are you guys talking about?" 

"Sex." we responded in unison.

"Again!" She turned to Brad and said "You know that is all he talks about ever since Mexico, is what you and I did in bed. 'Did Brad do this to you? Did Brad do that? How big is Brad's cock? Do you miss Brad's big cock?'

It's like he wishes you were in bed with us."

I was stunned that she would just say something so personal as that, it also made my dick lurch.

Brad said "Really? And what did you tell him when he asked if you miss me?"

"I uh..I..I want to dance. Honey will you put on some music?" Jean answered when she realized her error. I adjusted my dick in my pants before going to the stereo. I started some nice slow music, and turned to find them already up and in each other's arms swaying to the tunes. I sat in my chair and watched them. They appeared to know each other's next move, a turn, a dip, a sideways sway.

By the second song, she had her arms around his neck and his hands were on her ass. Her back was to me, and I watched as he slowly raised the bottom of her dress. It took a minute before I realized that he had two hands full of flesh, not panties. She had lost her panties either in the kitchen or the bathroom earlier.

I couldn't take my eyes off her ass in his hands as he rubbed and kneaded it. I finally looked up when I noticed they weren't moving. They were in a deep and passionate kiss. His right hand appeared and gripped her breast. I assumed the other did the same, from my vantage point I couldn't tell. His hand dropped back to her ass, and he whispered something to her. She nodded. I watched his right hand lift her left leg, and slide toward her knee. Then he slid it back but stopped right where he needed to be for his fingers to play with her pussy. He kept whispering to her between kisses, and she just kept nodding. 

I saw him crouch down a little and the squirrel made an appearance. The longest fattest cock I have ever seen in person slid along her pussy and stuck out past her ass. She moaned, and he pulled back. Then whispered to her again, and she moaned "Mmhmm." Then the monster slid out past her ass again.

It moved back and forth as he kissed her and whispered in her ear. Then she put her leg down and said to me. "We're going upstairs." She took his hand and they were gone.

I was so stunned I couldn't move. When I finally came to my senses, I went upstairs to our bedroom. I knew what I would find. The door was open, the light in our bathroom was on, illuminating the bedroom in soft light. They were on the bed, both naked, he was leaning on her. He kissed her as his hand caressed her breast. There was only kissing sounds and heavy breathing. His hips ground into her but he wasn't inside her. 

Then I heard her say "Please." 

"Are you sure?" He asked her.

"Yes. Please Brad."

He moved between her legs and she opened them to accept him. His cock found it's target with her help. I saw her hand grip the middle of the shaft, her fingers not able to meet. She moved the large knob up and down her opening to gather moisture and centered it. His hips moved forward and the crown popped in. 

Jean let out a contented moan, and removed her hand. Brad asked "Is that it?"

"Mmmm." My wife moaned again.

"Tell me. Is it?"

"Yes. That's what I need." She replied

Brad slid in a few inches then back out. He stroked her with just those few inches, the fat knob working as a plunger inside her.

"Please Brad. I want it all. I need it all."

He slid in a few more inches and she pulled her knees back. He stroked in and out, gaining ground, until his egg sized nuts were against her ass.

"Tell me again." He instructed her.

"Oh God, Brad. I really have missed your big cock." She moaned.

"Did you tell your husband that?" He asked as he slowly slid in and out of her stretched pussy.

"No."

"You knew he wanted me to fuck you, that's why you took off your panties, isn't it?" He was picking up the pace a little.

"Yes." She groaned as she had an orgasm.

"You wanted it too didn't you?"

"Oh God yes."

Now he was taking long deep strokes making sure to hit bottom each time. I could see him withdraw till just the plum sized head was still inside her. Then all the way in till only his balls remained outside. His arms under her knees insured deep penetration. He owned her and he knew it.

"What are you going to tell him now?" 

"I want your cock. I need your cock." She yelled, cumming again for him.

He was now pounding her toward his finish. She was coming over and over.

"Are you on the pill?" 

"No. But don't pull out. I want your cum in me... Please"

"Don't worry, I'm not pulling out."

He pounded her a few more times, then I saw his ass clench as he deposited his seed in her.

"Oh...Yes..I feel you cumming in me. God I love your cum in me."

I crept downstairs and jerked off.

You might think I'm sick, I understand. But you see, I had two kids with my first wife. I got the snip long before I met Jean. Her desire for a family was news to me. I love Jean. Brad can provide what I can't in more ways than one.

I later returned to the bedroom with a bottle of wine and three glasses.

"Honey, I know you may not like this, but I really do miss Brad's cock." 

"I can see why." I said looking at his limp cock laying across his hip. Still almost as thick as a soda bottle.

"Are you going to kick me out?" She asked with concern.

"Do you two want to live together?"

"Lord No!" They answered at the same time.

"Good it's settled then. He comes over and fucks you once in awhile. Sometimes I will watch, sometimes I will participate, sometimes I will give you two space." I told her honestly.

"How do you feel about sloppy seconds?" Brad asked.

"First, second, third,..I don't care."

"What about creampie?" Jean asked as she slid her finger up and down her slit.

"Let me watch you two make one, and I will find out."



Squirt



"You pissed on me, you bitch!"

If I never hear that again, my life will be complete. I have a problem - I'm a "squirter." It's not really my fault. I just get so turned on it just happens. It's been like this my entire life.

When I was just still living at home, masturbating in bed at night, I'd squirt. God! My parents thought I was a bed-wetter, for shit sake. In the back of my mind I can still hear my mother, "What's wrong with you. You didn't used to pee the bed. Now look."

That was rather embarrassing. How could I tell them I wasn't peeing, just pounding my pussy in bed alone until I gushed. So, I should tell my mother I was popping my twat? Or just let her think my bladder had lost it? It was a terrible quandary. So, I just shut up and didn't say shit.

My first real sexual experience was while I was a freshman in college. His name was Roger and he had the most beautiful '57 Chevy I'd ever seen. The paint was spotless and shined so deep I could see my face. The thing had 283 cubic inches and Roger promised me he did too. The back seat was fabulously wide and well suited to give up my virginity. At the time, I had one leg thrown over the back of the front seat and the other out the rear window. Roger was, of course, attending to business down there when I felt that lovely feeling starting in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't help it - I just let go. That was the first time I heard it - "You pissed on me, you bitch!" I got to walk home. It was something less than a wonderful adventure.

A few similar experiences later, I'd decided there was something really wrong with me. I screwed up my courage and made a visit to the old family quack, Doctor Stevens. This guy had taken care of me and the rest of the family since I was born. The guy was in his late sixties by this time. I thought I could trust him.

"Ok, Doc. What's wrong with me? Every time I get into a...um...situation, I squirt pee all over the place. It's really embarrassing."

"Really? I never heard of such a thing. When did this start?"

"In my last year of high school" I said, wondering if Doctor Old Bastard had been a mistake.

"Give me a minute," He said, leaving the room. Momentarily, he returned with a large, dusty tome. He began flipping through pages.

I waited until he had finished. Finally, he looked up. "I guess I'll have to examine you. I think it might be a yeast infection or something."

So, dutifully, I dropped my pants, climbed up on the table and put my feet in the stirrups. I watched as Doctor AlmostDead, put on his pop-bottle bottom, glasses and peered at my waiting gash. It wasn't really so bad, I told myself as he slid the vaginal speculum inside me. Then with his head down close to my pussy, I felt it. "Oh God. NO!" I screamed to myself. But it happened anyway. A long stream of fluid flew out of my and hit the doctor square in the face. I was mortified.

"Well," he said wiping the juice off his face. "It doesn't appear you have an infection at all. I think I need to send you to a specialist."

"Oh great," I thought. "Just what I need - someone else to probe my puss and share my secret embarrassment." But I made the appointment anyway and went, knowing it was going to be another fiasco.

The day came fro the appointment. I showered, dressed and caught the bus for downtown. I got off at SW. 3rd and Jefferson then began the walk up to tenth. The building was one of those old '40's baroque buildings. The legend over the entrance read, "Medical Arts Building." I rode the elevator to the fifth floor and entered the office. The sign on the door read, "Dr. H. Wood - Gynecology." What the hell is that? Someone who studies Gynos or something?

I went to the window and told the fat broad behind the counter, I was there for an appointment. The bitch just sneered at me and told me to sit down and wait. I sat. I waited. I listened for the screams of dying women and the sounds of feasting, unearthly beasts. I heard nothing.

Finally, Fatty opened a door and escorted me into the dungeon. She gave me a paper gown and told me to get undressed. As I undressed, all I could think of was, "Fire Hazard!"

I was just settling down on the exam table with the door opened. The doctor came in with a chart on a clipboard. "Hi, I'm Harden Wood,' he said sticking out his hand. I peered at it wonder where it had been and if it had been wash recently. I finally took it and shook.

"Now, tell me about your problem."

I launched into the story, even telling him about my "bed-wetting" and the guys I'd squirted and what they said. I saw him smile.

"I'm afraid, I really can't help you. There isn't anything wrong."

"Are you sure? You haven't even examined me," I said.

"Ok. I'll examine you," he said lifting the bottom of my fabulous, fire hazard garment. I looked at my snatch. He spread my lips with his fingers. Then he licked me.

Holy Shit. It happened again. I just couldn't help it. I sprayed all over him.

"See? Like I said. Perfectly normal," the doctor said wiping his face. "I'll be right back." The doctor left the room and closed the door.

"What happened?" asked Fatty out in the hallway.

"The fucking bitch peed all over me," the doctor growled heading for the bathroom. 



Squirt



They walked hand and hand up the stairs to his apartment. Just as they reach the right floor she pulls open the door to the hallway and he follows her in to the dim lit hallway. She turns, grabbing him and pushes him against his door pushing her body against his. She leans in to kiss him, but he moves his head up and she tilts her head down and kisses his neck, sucking a little as she works her way down his neck; cold from the weather outside. He grabs she ass and picks her up and slams her back to the door as he jimmy's open the lock with his keys. The door flies open and he stumbles into the door way. With she ass still in his hands, he starts kissing her. His tongue slowly creeps past her lips and onto hers. They make out for a few minutes and Deryk drops she to her knees as he undoes his pants. She takes control and unzips his jeans; she pulls them down over his hot ass and they fall to the floor. Through his boxers she can see his bulge. She rips his shorts to the floor and as she looks up to his face he is smiling back at her. She starts to licks from his balls up to the tip of his giant cock and flicks her tongue stud against it. It's cold and makes his cock twitch with each touch of the metal. 

As she gets ready to take his cock into her mouth she pauses to look his cock over examine every inch if it. He places one hand on her head and takes his dick with the other and pushes her head forward till her mouth is full of him. He pounds his dick in and out of her mouth. She stops him and starts to suck him into her further; the only place for it to go is her throat. As she is doing this he does not notice until his cock is in her throat. His cock twitches and makes her choke a little; she regains control and continues to push it further into her and his nine inches of cock are now fully in her mouth and throat as he starts to face-fuck her once again. In no time at all there is saliva all down her chin and neck and he can hear her muffled moans. She knows he is close to cumming in her, so she removes him from her mouth and takes one of his hands from her head and places it on his cock. As he starts jacking off, she opened her mouth and he starts cumming into her mouth and over her face and clothing. 

She starts to lick his cock clean and he picks her up off her knees and they walk to his room. She sits on the bed and leans over to untie her shoes and removes them and when she looks up him is completely naked; her jaw drops not expecting this to happen. Her body tightens and her nipples turn hard inside her bra. He reaches down and pulls off her top and takes off her bra. Now; him seeing her that she is very turned on. He gets down on his knees and takes a nipple into his warm mouth and stars to suck and nibble on it lightly, but she says

"Bite it harder; don't worry, it won't hurt. I like it."

He obeys and her breathing is now heavy and irregular. She fondles her other breast. He can tell that she is completely in another world when she slides her hand down under her skirt. Her hand is giving all it had to get her off. He bites hard one last time on her right nipple which takes her out of her daze and she stops and pulls him up. She runs her fingers, which had been in her pussy against his lips, wanting him to lick them clean. He takes her fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean, but with his first taste of her he wants more. He starts to head toward her wet pussy, already smelling her wetness, but she has other plans. She pulls him back up to her lips, kissing him; tasting herself she whispers to him "I love the taste of my cunt juices.  

Then she says "pleased scare me." 

He is a little confused at first but, then he sees a way that could make it work. 

He stands up and walks to his closet and grabs something out of a box and walks back to Jen and tells her to lie on the bed normally. She is very confused now, but she does as she is told. What happened next shocked her.

He startles her by cuffing her hands to the head board. She did not think this was fun.

She says

"I don't like this. Please, let me go. They are hurting me. Please, let me go." 

He ignores her pleas and takes a tie from the floor and ties her right leg to the bed frame, and then her left. She struggles to get free as he does this. She is screaming for him to untie her, but he grabbed her bag to find something to put in her mouth to shut her up. He found a pair of wet panties; she must have wet them earlier that night and put them in her bag, so he took them and shoved them in to her mouth. She didn't stop trying to wriggle free. She tries to close her legs, so that her pussy is not showing, but she can't. She almost starts to cry when he starts to kiss her nipples, which went hard with the first kiss. He moves from nipple to nipple, biting them softly at first, then harder and harder, until she is almost screaming with pleasure. As her looks down to her bag again, he sees an anal plug with a bottle of lube in a plastic bag. He reaches down and grabs them and looks at her and smiles. 

He takes the bottle of lube and puts some on his fingers. He lifts her legs so that he can see her puckered asshole. He tells her to relax; it will hurt less. She knows this, but she can't, so he puts some lube on her asshole and doesn't take his time. He pushes his first finger into her asshole and she screams a little through the panties in her mouth. He takes them out and shoves two, then three, then four fingers into her tight ass. When he is at four, he starts to pump his fingers in and out of her ass until it loosens up a little more. He takes his cock into his hand and quickly takes out his fingers; replacing them with his cock. As he pushes into her, she screams with pain, but he starts fucking her in the ass fast and hard. She doesn't like this at all.

he hears her muffled "stops," so he just pushes his cock in as far as it will go and just keeps it there for a few minutes; twitching his dick every once in a while. When he finally pulls out her ass is stretched and it doesn't close quickly and with this he shoves the ass plug into her. It is bigger than he was; it is about twelve inches long and about four wide. In his mind he thinks she is a freak for having a toy this big for her ass. 

He starts to kiss her wet pussy, sucking all the juices on her pussy and ass into his mouth, savoring her flavours; he loves it. He starts to stick his tongue into her cunt and she starts to moan. She loves it; she starts shoving her pelvis into his face. He must have hit something on the ass plug, because something starts to vibrate and he is amazed at what this does to her. She starts to thrash around and out of nowhere his mouth fills very quickly with her cum.

He moves his head and she squirts across the room. He is so amazed that he wants her to do it again, so he turns up the vibrator and starts to eat her out again, and every once and a while to tease her he shoves his cock head in, and it works. She is almost there again and with the little bit of control she has over her body, she lifts her pelvis to his and his whole dick is in her. She falls over him and starts to squirt again; this time he tries to get as much as he could in his mouth. He removes her pants from her mouth and kisses her, letting her pussy juices flow between her mouth and his.



Squirt and Her Cousins



It had been a hot day, the temperature had reached 45 degrees and at seven this evening it was still 42. I was exhausted and in need of a refreshing shower. Walking into the family home I mounted the stairs, going down the corridor to the bathroom. Coming up to my sister's room I noticed her door was half open. This surprised me because her door is always shut. Pausing, I witnessed my younger sister Storm, reflected in her mirror masturbating. I was spellbound, watching my little sister's hand on her pussy rubbing furiously. As I watched, my hand slipped down my shorts and commenced pumping my already hard cock. Storm was approaching orgasm, moaning and pushing her hips into her teasing fingers. When the eruption came she stiffened crying out George I love you. This surprised me even more because I thought her boyfriend was Angus; I was confused because my name was also George. I stumbled down the corridor to the bath room where I stood in the shower and jacked myself off. Returning to my room I sat in shock and amazement at what I had just witnessed.

Let me introduce Storm to you. She is my younger sister by one year. Storm, better known as Squirt is eighteen, whilst I am nineteen; about to turn twenty in January. The members of my family are all pushing six foot and yet Squirt is a mere five foot two. Squirt is a honey blond, her hair styled more like a boys, whilst the other family members are dark haired. My mother and older sister are large breasted whilst Squirt's breasts are small. Squirt is incredibly beautiful whilst my mother and older sister are lovely but you could not call them beautiful. Squirt has boys swarming around her like bees around a honey pot. She has always pushed the boundaries whilst the rest of the family have been less radical. As a child she was often spanked by our mother when disobedient. Once she became a teenager our parent's despaired of her behavior and quite often she would find herself grounded. 

That evening after dinner Squirt was assisting me with the washing up. We had almost finished when she rubbed a hand over my butt asking how I enjoyed her show earlier in the afternoon. I was stunned, speechless, how did she know that I was watching? I hurried to finish the washing up and departed for my bedroom and the solitude that the internet afforded. It was around ten when I heard my bedroom door open admitting Squirt. I noticed that she had changed and was scantily clad in an all revealing tee-shirt and the briefest pair of white shorts I had ever seen. She sidled up to me and hugged me from behind asking if she could talk. I acquiesced and moved over to my bed. Squirt grabbed my desk chair, sitting down opposite me. We sat looking at each other until Squirt spoke, repeating her earlier question, "Well how, did you rate the show?"

I couldn't answer; my mind was thrashing out questions, when she repeated the question I naively asked, "How did you know I was watching?"

Squirt laughed, saying that she knew that if she left the door ajar I would look in and she had seen me looking at her. She then repeated her question.

"I thought it was very wrong but very sexy, how could you even do such a thing, what would Angus think of it?" Angus was her current boyfriend; they had been seeing each other for the past six months.

Squirt sighed, "God you are simple, Angus and I split up four weeks ago and I don't have a boyfriend. If you want to know I am in love with you. I have been in love since I was fourteen. I am a virgin and I want you to break my cherry. I have been reserving this for you since I was fourteen."

"But Squirt we can't do this, it is illegal, it has a name, they call it incest. For fuck's sake Squirt I am your brother. Get real"

"I am real and have been since fourteen. It was then that my best friend Casey lost her virginity and every weekend after that she was sleeping around. She received the name of the school bike, because of the number of boys she slept with. During this time I had a dropping out with her. After all she was never around on weekends or after school. Other than to recount her sexual adventures during lunch breaks she ignored me. Casey kept putting a lot of pressure on me to lose my cherry as well but I told her that that was reserved for you. She was horrified at this but after a while came to accept it; although she found it weird. When she was sixteen, you will remember that she became pregnant and her family told her to leave, that's when she came to stay with us. Her parents finally forgave her and six months later took her back into the fold. This only reinforced my resolve to have you take my virginity. So please big brother, give up and accept the inevitable."

"Fuck Squirt you are incorrigible, you have always got to be different. Look, I have always loved you, but as a brother not a lover. I find you the sexiest girl I know and if I were your boyfriend I would love to take your virginity. I am not your lover; I am your brother, so wake up and try to be reasonable."

"To hell with convention, I don't care about dumb social laws, I love you and I want to fuck you, and that's the reality of our discussion."

"Squirt, as usual you are a very naughty girl and someone should punish you."

Squirt's eyes bulged. She screamed. "Will you punish me big brother, oh please punish me, I deserve to be spanked. I bought a riding crop for Angus so that he could whip my ass regularly. I cum so hard when I am whipped, please, oh please whip my naughty butt."

My sister never ceases to amaze me and I must admit that I was quite aroused at the thought of whipping her naked butt. "Oh Squirt here you go again, you always know how to break down a person's resolve, but I must be firm; I cannot whip you, you will have to find someone else to perform the honour."

As I was speaking Squirt removed her tee-shirt, exposing her tiny velvety breasts to me. God they were beautiful and I had an instant erection. I knew that she never wore a bra because it was not necessary, yet to witness these small orbs of woman hood really began to arouse me. I knew that my convictions were being broken down; I knew already that I one day soon I would take her virginity; that I would become her lover. A sweat broke out on my brow and I could feel myself begin to shake. I knew that I had a massive erection tenting my shorts and that there was nothing I could do to prevent it. As I looked on, Squirt slid off her chair, crawling towards me. 

"Stand up." She ordered this with a voice I had never heard before, it was authoritative, and it was telling, not asking. I stood and removed my shorts and boxers releasing my colossal thick circumcised erection to the air. Squirt gasped, saying that she had never seen a phallus as big as this before. She took me in her mouth sucking as much as she could down her throat. Not able to get all of it in she tried to wrap her hand around it and star pumping it. Her tongue was licking the wet helmet, whilst her mouth sucked the rigid veined shaft deep into her orifice whilst her hand was pumping; it did not take long for me to announce my impending orgasm. I told her again that I was about to cum but she just sucked harder until I came violently into her mouth; Squirt drinking it down until there was nothing left. Cleaning off the residue she congratulated me, saying that we will fuck before the week was out. 

As she went to the door she dropped her shorts, wiggling her spectacular butt at me. "Don't forget this deserves a whipping." 

Early next morning, I was taking breakfast before leaving for work when Squirt entered the kitchen. "God I love you, you and I were meant for each other."

"Thank you Squirt for taking care of me last night, but it can't continue. You must realise that what we are doing is illegal. Now I don't have time to argue, I have to get to work."

"Brother my love, you will take my virginity this weekend when the folks are away at their clubs Christmas Weekend. I will say more this evening. Love you. We will speak, later."

Work was hell. The shop was busy with last minute Christmas shoppers and I couldn't get Squirt off my mind. Over lunch I sat at a cafe eating a sandwich, drinking coffee. I knew that I was in love with my sister and had always been; yet I was debating with myself, trying to convince myself that we could not do this. Another little voice kept telling me that she was the most desirable girl I knew and that convention should be discarded in her favor. Regardless she was a naughty girl and I should punish her; God to whip that spectacular arse. Yet I knew that I needed to fuck her. As I was engrossed in this soliloquy a friend called to me, yet I didn't hear her until she was at my table. Her name was Polly and she had been pursuing me for some weeks. Although she was a nice girl of twenty she was slightly overweight and had the biggest breasts I had ever seen. Now I don't like big tits, I prefer small breasts like Squirt's. Polly sat down and commenced applying the pressure, begging me to take her to a Christmas party at the lake this Saturday evening. Shaking her tits she said that I could do anything I liked with them. I shuddered, telling her that I had a girlfriend and that we would be otherwise engaged this weekend. Polly was devastated and became quiet nasty; telling me that I was a fucking cunt, that I had lead her on all these weeks making her believe that we were going steady. 

"Oh for fucks sake Polly, I have never led you on and we can't be going steady because we have never gone out together so grow up and get out of my life." With that Polly left crying and I quickly paid the bill returning to the shop. I knew then that I would be fucking my sister.

Before going home that evening I visited a sex shop and bought a riding crop for Squirt. It was in a box so I took it to a gift wrapping booth. When I arrived home Squirt dragged me into her room, asking me how my day was and telling me that she would pay me a visit this evening after the parents had looked in on her. She then hugged me, kissing me on the mouth; I didn't respond, leaving it until tonight. 

After dinner I went down to my room and worked on the internet and played computer games. It wasn't until eleven that Squirt walked in. She came up, hugging me, asking what I had been doing. I showed her what I had been reading on the internet about incest. I explained to her that it was referred to as genetic sexual attraction and that in Australia it was not only illegal but immoral. I also told her that she would be amazed at how many couples lived an incestuous relationship, even getting married. 

"So there you go; we can have sex together as long as we don't tell anyone. Anyway I don't want children, at least not in the foreseeable future. So George my darling brother, are you ready to become my lover?"

"Look Squirt I had a hell of a day today I couldn't get what happened last night out of my head. I couldn't get you out of my head. At lunch I sat at a cafe chewing the cud when my old acquaintance Polly came along. She has been trying to get into my pants for a long time and invited me to a party at the lake this Saturday evening with all the sexual favours I wished. I told her that I had a prior engagement and she did the cruet. In answer to your question, I wish to give you an early Christmas present." With that, I presented her with the present I had bought on the way home from work. Squirt tentatively opened it squealing when she saw what it was.

"Oh my darling, my lover to me, this is the best present you could have given me. Please whip me tonight, I have been very naughty and I intend to continue to be naughty so whip me."

With that she removed her shorts and thong and bent over the end of my bed pushing her buttocks up to an obscene angle. Looking back she begged me to give her twenty hard lashes. I was transfixed by her buttocks, standing back I could see her pussy; the whole view was incredibly sexy. Taking the whip I approached her and brought it down on her butt. She looked back telling me to hit harder, to use all my strength. The second stroke was applied with all the strength I had. The skin on her buttocks seemed to erupt; it shook before a vivid red mark appeared. Squirt moaned; a sound that surprised me because I expected her to scream. I continued raining blows across her butt, eventually having her scream, but after the fifteenth; she went quiet beginning to moan making noises that were more like a person about to experience an orgasm. With the twentieth stroke she came, the orgasm erupting through her. She pushed her bruised butt back towards me as the shock waves resonated through her. When she had recovered, she stood up, tears in her eyes and kissed me passionately on the lips, her serpentine tongue thrusting into my mouth and tangling with mine. Standing back she looked at me; seeing my erection she laughed saying she had better take care of it before retiring for the night. So saying she went down and began to massage my erection. Using her hands and tongue it didn't take long to bring me to a climax because I had found the whipping session just as erotic as Squirt. Wiping her lips clean of all residues she presented me with her thong as a gift, kissed me before trotting upstairs to bed.

It was Wednesday morning and as I went to work I couldn't believe that three days had passed since Squirt put on her little show. I thought back to last night and the whipping I had administered to her backside; rather than hurting, it turned her on. Squirt is amazing, what will she do next? I don't know. All day long I was haunted by Squirt. By lunchtime I realised that I loved her, not as a sister but as a sex object. Squirt turned me on.

That evening Squirt was late coming down to my room and I had already gone to sleep. It was about midnight when I woke to lips paying homage to my phallus. Starting awake, Squirt smiled saying that the folks were late looking in on her. She then placed two fingers to her lips and continued working on my very erect penis. She licked the glands; as she pumped the shaft, and tickling my balls. Licking and kissing, bringing me to arousal, taking my balls in her mouth, sucking before feeling my orgasm roar up its canal and into her mouth. She continued to suck until the last drop had been taken. 

Squirt told me to get out of bed then lying down she spread her legs telling me that she needed to feel my tongue. Going down between her legs I addressed her shaved pussy, taking the outer lips of her labia into my teeth. Caressing them, and arousing my lover. Pushing two fingers into her I licked and teased her engorged clitoris, driving Squirt into a delirium. Licking and biting using the fingers of my other hand to play with the swollen nipples, squeezing her breasts, licking her cunt working fingers inside brought Squirt to a screaming climax, her fingers pulling the hair from my head. When she had recovered she stood up taking my face in her hands, making love to my mouth tasting her residue on my tongue. As she stood back I realised that she was wearing a see through baby doll outfit with no knickers. It was enough to stir my penis again as I felt a ferocious movement down there. It was two thirty when we kissed goodnight. 

As she opened my door she wiggled her bum. "It's only two days to Saturday."

The next evening was Thursday and she entered at eleven thirty. As the previous evening, she was wearing a see through baby doll outfit without panties. As she walked, it rode up exposing her shaved pussy. Lying on my bed she asked me to go down on her. After the final eruptions of her orgasm had passed she motioned for me to join her. We cuddled up, naked, brother and sister, the aroma of sex in the air. Squirt looked lovingly at me, "Fuck George I love you. You don't know how content I am lying in your love. You see I have been masturbating since I was fourteen. Unless I had gone out with a boy who made me cum I masturbated every night. I can't get enough, I love my orgasm. My best orgasms are after I have been spanked, well that is to date because I have yet to do it proper. This weekend you are going to whip me first and then fuck me. This is going to be a weekend of multiple orgasms. It will be the best weekend of my life."

"That's all very well Squirt but what shall we do when we go down to Shelly Beach?" Each year the extended family would holiday for five weeks at this secluded beach just north of C.... My parents owned a holiday home that was designed to house two families with total privacy. My father's sister Aunty Joan and her twin daughters Sam and Zoe would live next door. Across the bay there was another house, belonging to my mother's brother and his wife, Uncle John and Aunty Sybille and their twenty one year old daughter Angie. 

"Don't worry we always have the boat shed during the day and you know the adults, they spend many days and evenings playing golf and drinking at the club. We will have plenty of privacy."

"What about our cousins?"

"You never know what they may get up to. They may be even interested in what we are doing, just leave it to me, I love corrupting people. Anyway, I am sure you would like a piece of Zoe and Sam, although Angie may be a problem she's such a prude, you never know what she's into. Oh, by the way we had better take the whip; I really want to see Zoe and Sam's asses whipped."

"Fuck you really are the little dominatrix are you not?" Squirt laughed a dirty laugh, saying "I don't know what turns me on yet; all I know is that I like my ass whipped at least weekly."

That night we talked until two in the morning and then we lay back in each others arms and slept until six: when we arose and Squirt ran naked back to her bedroom, leaving me to take a shower before breakfast and work. Thursday evening went without Squirt appearing; she had gone out to a night club to celebrate with Casey and other old school friends. She arrived home after three in the morning and went straight to bed suffering from an overdose of marijuana and alcohol. I did not get to see her before Friday evening.

She arrived at ten thirty saying that the folks were leaving at seven thirty in the morning. Once again she had a pair of crotch less knickers on a fact that gave me an instant hard on. I stared at her saying that she was the hottest little piece in the world.

She commenced to tell me about last night. "Casey was there, she had found a babysitter for Michelle, I was surprised when Zoe and Sam turned up and there were four other friends from school who you don't know. Zoe brought some great dope so we set about getting smashed and pissed. The band was great and we all danced together, when some guys tried to pick us up we told them to piss off because it was a private party, they persevered so Zoe told them that we were lesbians at a Christmas party so just fuck off because we are not into men. You should have seen the looks on their faces; it was an expression of total shock. One guy did suggest that it was a terrible waste of female flesh but we just laughed. After the others had left it was just Sam, Zoe and me so I quizzed them about sex. I know that they are virgins and yet they want to lose it. I told them about my fetish for whipping. They were horrified but slowly started to become inquisitive. I took them to a booth in the ladies and showed them my stripes. Zoe was fascinated even touching them, asking if it hurt terribly. I told them that initially it did but the massive orgasms help me to get over it and that on the first day my butt was very hot sometimes felling as though I had pissed my pants but by the second day there was no heat or pain just stripes and these would fade in a week. They asked how they could be whipped and I told them that I might be able to organise it during our holiday's, but if they were to receive a whipping they would have to buy a one piece costume so that the stripes are hidden from the old folks at home. So, it looks as though we are going to have some fun in January. One other thing Sam suggested was that Angie is a lesbian and I said that could be fun too."