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The Good Girl

By: peechka



“Can you be a good girl for me, Jennifer?” he asked his voice thick with cajoling charm. He smiled as she blushed and lowered her eyes. Morgan caught her chin with his finger and lifted it, forcing her to look at him. His hazel eyes searched the liquid green of hers for her answer. He’d found everything he’d needed to know about her in their depths, this was no different. Jennifer belonged to him, body and soul and he reveled in that fact.

“Can you do everything I ask of you, Jennifer? Even though it may make you blush?” She nodded gently, and her face darkened again with color as if on queue. “Such a good girl,” Morgan praised as his finger stroked the soft skin of her cheek, holding her gaze.

Morgan turned from her and walked slowly to his desk of dark mahogany leaving her standing alone in the center of his office. He could see the look of confusion on her face and he smiled knowingly, leaning casually onto the front corner of his desk.

“I want you to take off your clothes for me, Jennifer. All of them. Right now. Can you do that for me baby?” He stroked his goatee gently with his fingers as he watched her, noting that she nodded in acquiescence, but made no move to begin.

Jennifer looked at Morgan for a long moment, trying to swallow her shyness. When she tried to lower her eyes he snapped his fingers, letting her no it was unacceptable and she returned them to his.

“Why shouldn’t I,” she thought as she felt her pulse quicken and her body flush with a wave of warmth brought by his gaze as it traveled down her body, knowing he’d already begun with his mind what he had asked of her. “But we’re in his office… of all places… his office… what if…” If she thought of all the “what ifs” she’d never be able to obey; she wanted so badly to please him.

“Jennifer. If I have to ask again… it won’t go well for you. You’re not going to make me have to punish you baby, are you?” Morgan’s tone was suddenly no nonsense, but still filled with that cavalier charm. His voice a deep timbre, strong and confident; the voice of a man accustomed to having his way, not often disappointed.

Jennifer felt suddenly ashamed of her shyness, her little insecurities, and with trembling fingers began to release the buttons of her blouse carefully. She could feel her heartbeat in her fingers and after looking down for just a moment at them, she returned her gaze to his, her eyes filled with their usual confidence, glistening proudly as she bared her shoulders, the black silk falling away from them and down her arms.

Morgan chuckled and nodded approvingly, his eyes not leaving her breasts, still held captive in the black lace of her bra. He could see them heaving deliciously with her every breath and his cock sprang to life beneath the trousers of his suit.







Having shed her blouse and skirt, her bra, Jennifer began to unclasp the straps of her garters, intending to remove her black stockings and her high, strappy heels.

“No Jennifer… leave them,” she heard Morgan say from across the room. Jennifer smiled to herself; Morgan loved stockings and garters on a woman. She leaned up and looked at him, feeling Morgan’s eyes carefully inspecting every movement. She stood there before him arms at her sides… fingers gently clenching and releasing, unsure of what to do with them. She felt the tawny pink buds of her breasts harden and the slow ache of need filled her. Jennifer’s body began to respond. She felt her nether lips swell, her tender clit throb between them, her sheath moisten… readying herself for him.

Jennifer looked at him now, ruggedly handsome in his double breasted suit, always precise in his appearance. She felt keenly vulnerable standing there in all her naked glory. Her eyes fighting off glances to the door, sure she was hearing someone ready to enter the office at any moment, an occasional telephone ring breaking up the eerie silence inside the closed room.

Sun shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the outer wall of Morgan’s office, catching her eye, “Morgan.... the win…” The blinds where open to the summer day and Jennifer knitted her brow wondering who could be watching from the adjacent high-rise office buildings.

“Never mind the windows Jennifer,” he cut her off. It positively thrilled him to think someone might be watching them.

He slid off the edge of his desk and walked before her, close enough she could feel his breath on her face, smell his cologne, and feel his heat. When she looked into his eyes she felt like prey before a lion, overpowered by his nearness and his feral look. As always her desire to please him and to seek her own pleasure in his primal masculinity overwhelmed her, her body responding in kind to his obvious arousal.

She reached up with her fingers to begin to undress him, thinking of loosening his tie but before she could even touch him, Morgan had her wrists in his grasp, firm, but not squeezing. He meant to remain clothed, and to leave her exposed before him. Jennifer slackened her arms and he released her.

He reached out to her, twisting a finger into her waves of shoulder-length chestnut hair and tugged, signaling her to her knees before him. Jennifer raised a brow in question of his lordly manner only to find Morgan’s fingers now fisted in her hair forcing her to her knees.

She looked up at him, the defiance in her eyes of a moment ago, replaced by obedience and acquiescence to another’s will… Morgan’s will. This thing between them, this sexual energy that they had discovered long ago had never faded with time; it had thrived with their nurturing. Their love had only spurred it on, fueling the intimacy that came easily to them. Jennifer reached with her hands and ran them up his thighs, feeling the lean muscle of Morgan’s legs as she leaned into him, her eyes shining with love as they met his. But there was something else in that love… hunger, a base instinct to please this dominant male, HER dominant male, and she indulged it in with gusto.







“Such a good girl…” Morgan said as he grinned down at his baby girl, kneeling obediently at his feet. “Now undo my belt Jennifer, and my trousers.” He stroked her cheek absently as he watched her set about doing as he instructed. 

Morgan had never considered himself sexually dominant until this woman. He had supposed now that it had been there, hidden somewhere under what he believed was acceptable, but had never been realized. She had sought that out in him, but never asked. She prompted him with her pleas and her soft little whimpers. Jennifer’s erotic femininity and her subtle transference of sexual power to him drove him wild. He loved her raw sexuality and her tenderness. He savored most however, that they were at home together in any situation, any mood. Their appetites suited each other perfectly, from the most tender lovemaking to encounters like this lust-filled tryst. Tonight he would pull her to his chest and she would tuck herself into his warmth, pressing her bottom against him in tender offering and after they made love… she would curl into him falling asleep together.

Right now, however… Morgan had vastly different plans for his sweet baby girl.

As Jennifer followed his instructions and opened his trousers, he had tightly wound his fingers into her silken chestnut curls, tilting her head back so he could look into her eyes. Morgan brushed his thumb over the soft pink lips of her mouth and drew her closer with his other hand until Jennifer’s lips were pressed against his thick hard cock. He could feel her breath, its moist sweetness driving him to distraction and he pressed his loins out, dipping his knees and grinding against her face, pressing his cock across her cheek.

“So very sweet Jennifer… so very sweet. I’m going to fuck that hot little mouth of yours. You know how I like it Jennifer, be a good girl for me, baby.” Morgan reached for the remote for the blinds and pressed the button to raise them, allowing more of the hot afternoon sun into the room. There was now an unobstructed view of his office… and the two lovers for the surrounding high-rise buildings.

Jennifer knew what Morgan had done and again a hot blush rose in her cheeks. “Morgan… what if…” Her question was cut short as Morgan pressed the head of his cock with one thrust into her pleading mouth, a groan of pleasure from his chest as the molten heat of Jennifer’s mouth enveloped him. A rueful smile turned his lips; he knew what she was worried about. His cock grew harder and thicker as Jennifer responded in her ever vigorous way, taking Morgan’s cock at once all the way into her throat.

“Oh God!” Jennifer thought as her eyes fluttered closed for a moment and she struggled to take all of Morgan’s cock into her throat, relaxing as he began to pump steadily into her eager little mouth. “Everyone is watching… I know it. They will all see me… us. What if it is someone we know?” The subtle humiliation she felt rose as she thought about talking to people they knew who may have seen her on her knees… naked… sucking on Morgan’s thick cock like a little slut. She wondered if she’d recognize their knowing smiles; she hoped not.







“Such a slutty thing to do on your lunch hour Jennifer. Here you are… naked and on your knees in my office with my cock buried in your mouth. Someone could come in through that door at any moment baby… and the boys across the street are sure to have spotted us. What will you do, Jennifer, next week when we have our friends over for our dinner party? Will you wonder if they saw you? Will you blush, remembering our little tryst as you smile and pour them another glass of wine?” Morgan knew exactly what his little girl was thinking. He tormented her deliciously as she sucked on his cock. Jennifer’s mouth moved in a slow rhythm up and down his thick shaft. He stood very still and let her work his cock, looking down into her eyes as she gazed up at him, her supple lips stretched around him.

Jennifer increased her pace as Morgan spoke to her and he purposefully slowed her with his hands, still fisted in her hair. “Not so fast baby… I want to enjoy this, and of course provide our possible viewers with a lengthy afternoon peep show.” Jennifer whimpered. Morgan grinned and held her head against him, forcing her to hold his cock deep in her throat and not gag. It was his turn to moan as he felt the spasms of her throat massage the swollen head of his cock.

“That’s it baby… such a good little whore. Suck that cock.” Morgan groaned out as he stared down at Jennifer, loving how greedy she was with his cock, how eagerly she sucked him off. He closed his eyes and began to take over the rhythm, his hips pumping out to meet her mouth… fucking her pretty face.

Jennifer relaxed, feeling Morgan begin to thrust his cock down her throat. She tilted her head further back, opening for him, hoping he would let her taste his cum when he climaxed. Her body was on fire, begging to be touched. She slid her hands down from Morgan’s thighs and ran them down her stomach to the junction of her thighs and the seat of her desire.

Just then Morgan yanked Jennifer off his cock, and slid it, hot and glistening against her cheek, surprising her. “Ohhh,” Jennifer sighed as she looked up at him, trying to recapture his cock with her lips.

“Did I tell you to touch your cunt Jennifer? Did I?” Morgan asked her firmly, a tone of irritation in his voice. “Did I, you greedy little whore?”

“No,” Jennifer gasped, her voice a wavering whisper.

“Who’s cunt is that Jennifer? Whose dirty little slut are you?” Morgan responded.

Jennifer felt the burning color that had become familiar since she stepped into Morgan’s office this afternoon and she tried to look away. He gripped her hair and yanked her head back making her look up at him, his eyes burning into her, forcing her to respond.

“Yours Morgan. It is yours. I am yours,” she whispered.

“Louder Jennifer. Tell me, whose greedy little whore are you?” Morgan clenched her hair in his fist and spanked her lips and cheeks lightly with his cock as he questioned her, delighting in her little show of humiliation.

“He’s driving me mad!” Jennifer screamed inside her head. She needed him desperately; she could feel her juices oozing from her hot cunt onto her thighs. Morgan knew how to push all her buttons. Jennifer loved the dirty words, reveled in how they made her feel, loving the way they reduced her to a purely sexual creature.

“Yours!” she said louder hoping to please him, mentally cursing herself for succumbing to her own needs. “Oh god I can’t endure much more. It’s too much!” Jennifer thought as her need for release was only fanned by his taunting.

“That’s right… but you’re such a bad girl Jennifer… Did I tell you to touch your cunt? Did I? You couldn’t wait could you Jennifer? You’ve always got to bury those fingers up inside that hot little hole,” Morgan scolded her, his eyes narrowed. He released her hair and walked away from her, leaving her in the middle of the office on her knees.







Jennifer stared at him from her knees, trying very hard not to look away from his gaze. Morgan leaned against his desk, his hand now wrapped around his cock, squeezing it, massaging it slowly with his fingers. She eyed him hungrily, seeing how wet his cock was with her saliva as he worked it. “God I want him,” she said to herself.

“Don’t I always give you what you want Jennifer? Yet… you’re never patient enough. Always when you want. Not today Jennifer. Today you’re going to learn to be a good girl and everyone is going to get to watch your lesson.” Morgan gestured to the open windows and what… or who… laid beyond as he spoke to her.

“Turn and face the windows Jennifer. That’s a girl.” Morgan smiled as Jennifer turned slowly on her knees to face the windows. “Can you see them baby? Can you see them looking at us?” he asked with a smirk… teasing… knowing all she could see were rows and rows of silver rectangles staring back at her. “Can you see them looking at you… on your knees learning how to be a good little girl.”

Jennifer lowered her eyes.

“Lay down on your back. Keep those pretty legs of yours spread very wide so everyone can see your wet cunt Jennifer.”

Jennifer closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Her heart was racing and the sweet shame of being exposed for possibly all to see was washing through her in waves. When she laid back on the soft carpeting and spread her legs she could feel the heat of the sun through the windows on her naked body and she clenched, inadvertently forcing more of the juices that already dripped from her slit, tormenting her, to drip down into the crack of her ass. She looked back and up at Morgan where he still leaned casually against his desk.

“That’s it. I don’t want you to look away from me Jennifer. I want you to watch me as you learn your lesson. I want you to see my eyes as you prove to me that you can be a good girl.” Morgan kept his voice hard, demanding her obedience. Jennifer nodded, accepting.







Morgan moved to stand over his naked little slut, admiring her stockinged legs and her sexy heels. He looked to the junction of her thighs and smiled with pleasure at the obvious arousal Jennifer was showing with her juices.

“Pull your knees up Jennifer and reach around your legs… open yourself for me. I want you to spread those pouty little cunt lips for me,” Morgan instructed.

The position forced Jennifer to lift her hips up, spreading the cheeks of her ass, exposing her little puckered hole. She wiggled in response to the tickling juices that dripped from her hungry little cunt to her taint. Jennifer pulled at her slick folds, doing what Morgan wanted and tried furiously to forget who might be watching her little display.

“Mmm… very nice baby. Look how wet and eager you are. So very wet. You love sucking my cock, don’t you Jennifer? I can tell how wet it makes you. You want me to fuck that voracious little cunt of yours don’t you? Ahh… Jennifer… if you’d only been a good girl, that’s exactly what would be happening.” Morgan crooned to her in a disappointed voice as he stroked his cock over her displayed body. “Now push a finger up into your cunt Jennifer. Just one,” he said

Jennifer whimpered and lifted her hips higher as her finger entered her tight sheath. She could feel her inner muscles sucking at her finger, tightening. Her eyes closed in delicious torment as she awaited her next command.

“That’s it. Now one more finger baby… press them in together. Fuck yourself for me Jennifer. You were so eager earlier; show me how much you want to be fucked.” Jennifer tried very hard not to plunge her fingers in too eagerly, wanting desperately to be a good girl, “It’s so very hard,” Jennifer lamented to herself as she slowly pushed her fingers in and out for both their pleasure.

“Faster baby girl… I know you want it hard and fast. You always beg for it,” Morgan continued. Jennifer couldn’t stop looking at his hand as it stroked slowly up and down the rigid shaft of Morgan’s cock. She loved to watch him. “Jennifer, look up here. This isn’t about what you want; it’s about learning to do as you’re told and having patience. Now, I said… fuck… that… cunt. Look at my face and do what I tell you.”

Jennifer blushed ignominiously and pleaded for quarter with her whimpers as she pumped her now soaked fingers in and out, thrusting them deep into her silken channel. The pleasure building within in her as Morgan continued to taunt her while she did his bidding. The sounds of her wet sex as her fingers worked it filled the room. Jennifer rocked her hips up into her fingers, biting into her bottom lip as she stared into his eyes, her mind a whirl with pleasure and sweet humiliation.

“Listen to your cries… just like a dirty little slut. You want to cum don’t you baby girl? Just a little more… Whimper for me baby. I want to hear how bad you want to cum.” Morgan teased her with his words, watching her discomfort as Jennifer writhed around on the floor under him. He was really quite tired of her disobedience. And he knew how much she loved this little game… even if she didn’t.

Jennifer’s eyes closed… her skin began to glisten as the pleasure within built to a crescendo. Morgan watched and just as Jennifer was about to ask him to let her cum, he brought it to a halt. “Stop! Stop right now, pull your hands away. Don’t you dare cum,” he demanded cruelly.







“Oh God!” Jennifer whimpered as her fingers stopped, “So close!” she screamed to herself. She let her fingers fall away, trembling as her hungry little slit closed on nothing.

“Hold yourself open. Ohhh… look at how your juices pool at your hole and drip down. Such a pretty site Jennifer.” Morgan grinned down at his bemused slut, with her slippery wet fingers working to hold her equally went cunt open for his inspection.

“Now I want you to run your fingernail over your clit… pull the hood back for me Jennifer and don’t you dare cum.” Morgan watched her, his cock throbbing in his hand as she performed his commands. He wondered if she knew she was killing him.

Jennifer pleaded with her eyes as she trembled with barely restrained desire. Her long fingernail tugged gently at the hood of her clit, easing it back, very careful not to touch the tender bud. She wondered if Morgan could see it throbbing. Her whimpers bordered on desperation as she struggled with the desire to please him and her desire to feel her release rush through her in a torrent. It was so hard for her… yet… so terribly sublime… this sweet torment.

“Very good. Now get up on your hands and knees Jennifer, with your ass to the windows. Move quickly and keep your knees spread very wide. Press that pretty face of yours to the floor, your arms above your head.”

Jennifer rolled to her side and up on her knees. She remembered to keep her eyes on his as she moved… stretching out on her stomach like a cat, purring seductively when Morgan squeezed his cock in response to her movements. She then slid back until she was up on her wide spread knees, exposing herself to the windows. Jennifer had forgotten about what lay beyond them and focused completely on pleasing Morgan, wanting to hear his praise… wanting to be His good girl.


The Good Girl



Heather Pearce is the prettiest girl in school. She has long blonde hair, that she usually wears in a ponytail, and blue eyes, the color of the summer sky. That much I know by looking at her.

She's 5'5" tall, weighs 120 pounds, has a 3.95 grade point average, has a perfect attendance record, and not a single detention. That I know from hacking into the school computer

She wears a 34C bra. That I know from paying her kid brother, Kevin, five dollars to look in her underwear drawer. And another five dollars a week to keep him from telling her; blackmailing, mercenary little shit.

We were born three days apart, and we both celebrated our eighteenth birthdays last month.

She's one of the "Good Girls," both by appearance and reputation. She wears nice clothes, but nothing tight or revealing like some girls at school. She doesn't wear mini-skirts; hers are hemmed just above the knee. She doesn't wear tight or revealing tops, usually a white or colored blouse, with only the top button undone. And no skin-tight jeans that look like they were painted on. 

She's got really shapely, toned legs. I know this from watching her, through the chain-link fence, in the P.E. outfit that the school makes the girls wear. She's got a really fine, rounded butt; her gym shorts ride up into the cleft between her cheeks, and she has to constantly pull them out. Her breasts bounce up and down when she runs.

There are absolutely no rumors or any locker room trash talk about Heather. She is as wholesome and pure as the driven snow. She had better be, because her father keeps her on a very short leash. Her dad is Howard "Tank" Pearce who used to be a defensive end for the Oakland Raiders, and there isn't a guy in our school who wants to fuck with Tank Pearce. 

Actually, Mr. Pearce and I get along pretty good, because been they've been on my paper route for the last ten years. He and my dad shoot hoops together in a neighborhood league. 

My dad asked him once why he keeps such a wary eye on Heather, and he said, "Because I was a horny teenager myself, and I know what they're after." It is common knowledge that Tank made it with at least half the Raiders' cheerleaders before he settled down and married Heather's mom. 

I have been in love with her since the third grade, but I have always worshipped her from afar. We were friends when we were kids in grammar school. We live on the same block, so we'd walk to school together.

We'd sit for hours for hours on the porch swing, talking about all kinds of interesting things. We both had insatiable curiosities, and could ponder at length all the mysteries of the universe.

Once we got into high school, kids started forming cliques. Heather was in the popular group, and because I played the saxophone in the marching band, and had to wear those stupid-ass uniforms, I was a dork. 

Actually, my instrument is the guitar, and I'm really fucking good at it. So good that I've got scholarship offers both from Julliard and the California Academy of the Arts. There's no place for a guitar in a school band, so to get the music credit I need, I play the sax. 

I'm also a dork because I have a paper route. My dad thought everyone should develop a work ethic, even kids, so I've had the route since I was eight. I saved enough to buy my own car, a ten-year-old Toyota Corolla. That's a dork car, too, but it gets me to school, and wherever else I want to go. It's definitely not a chick magnet.

Physically, I'm pretty okay. I'm just a shade under 6'2", with broad shoulders and narrow hips. I run three miles a day and workout with my dad to stay in shape. I'm lean and lanky, with pretty good muscle tone.

Heather is really into drama, and she sings like an angel. She had the lead role in our school's production of "The Sound of Music," and I joined the orchestra just so I could watch her rehearse every day. And moon.

Heather is not stuck-up or anything; she's always friendly and says "hi" to me. We just don't hang out in the same group. She doesn't have a steady boyfriend, and she doesn't date a lot. Her father insists on meeting any guy she goes out with, and most guys are too chickenshit to endure the Tank Pearce Inquisition. 

My parents think I'm the perfect son. I work hard, study hard, get good grades, and never get in trouble. I play lead guitar in a garage band, with a bunch of guys who are a little older than I am. They don't know about the beer we drink, or the dope we smoke, while we're playing. I'm a total rock star after I've smoked a little weed.

I'm also your typical horny teenager; my libido is stuck on overdrive. I download porn on my computer and jerk-off daily. Sometimes more than once a day. My sexual fantasy life is exotic. Except when it comes to Heather. I force her image out of my mind any time it pops up. She is too clean, too pure, for me to tarnish her image. You don't use a Good Girl as sexual object.

Heather and I have the same history class, and the teacher, Mr. Allen, is a total hardass. He assigns a monster research project at the end of every semester. Half our grade depends on it, and I really need to score an A to keep up my GPA for my scholarship.

It's such a big project, that Mr. Allen assigns two students to work together on it. I held my breath when he assigned study partners; I didn't want to get stuck with some dumb jock who would bog me down.

I almost shit my pants when he called my name along with Heather's! We were going to work together. Which meant we were going to spend time together. Lots of time together. Close to each other. 

My emotions ran between pure joy and absolute terror. I just knew I would blurt out something really stupid, or trip over a shoelace, or do something that's really dorky. We decided to do our project at my house, because I have a better computer, a MacPro with a thirty-inch monitor and a laser printer.

The first time she came over, her father brought her. He and my dad were going out to play basketball.

"Hey, there, Davie, how're they hangin'?" he asked. He held out a hand that was as wide as a large pizza, and I could swear I heard bones crunch when he squeezed mine. My bones.

"Uh, hi Mr. P," I replied, completely ignoring his question. As far as he's concerned, I don't have anything hanging; I'm a eunuch. And he's the only person on the planet that calls me "Davie." Everyone else calls me David. 

When all the pleasantries had been exchanged, I followed Heather up the stairs to my room. I watched her round butt sway, and her ponytail swing as she walked. She was wearing a modest pair of cargo shorts and a crisp white blouse, tucked in and accenting her narrow waist. God, I loved her!

"Gee, David, I'm so glad I got you as a partner; I was afraid I was going to get stuck with one of those moron jocks or a brainless cheerleader."

"Instead, you got the dork."

"You're not a dork, David, you're the smartest person in our class. And you're a really good musician, you played circles around those other people in the orchestra for the school play." 

"I didn't think anyone noticed." I was really flattered that she had.

We started to get into our project. Our assigned topic was the Crusades, and it was a really complex subject, spanning more than two centuries. We sat side-by-side at my desk. I was doing the online research, and Heather was taking notes and making an outline. 

As we worked, I couldn't help taking frequent sidelong glances at her. She had the most delicate hands, a long slender neck, and a face that reminded me of Florence Colgate, with full lips, accented by a light pink lip-gloss. She stretched her legs out under the table; long, sleek, and well muscled, after years of ballet lessons.

When she arched her back and stretched, the prominent swell of her breasts strained the fabric of her blouse. With the reverence in which I held Heather, there weren't such things as tits and ass; she had breasts and a butt. I couldn't even make myself think about what treasures she might hide between her legs. She was a Good Girl.

After a couple hours, we were burned out on the project for the day, and sat back and just chatted for awhile, about school, books we'd read, and plans for the future.

"You know, David, I used to really enjoy talking to you when we were younger; we used to have great conversations about all kinds of things. I really miss it. What ever happened to that?"

"I miss it, too. I guess we just kind of socially drifted apart."

"All guys want to talk about is sports, or cars, or some other kind of mindless drivel. And all the girls talk about is how far they go with their boyfriends."

It was time for Heather to go home. I walked her to the door, and just before leaving, she gave my arm a little squeeze. 

"I really like talking to you again, David."

My God, she touched me. This golden haired angel actually touched me.

The friendship we'd had as kids began to renew itself. We walked together down the halls at school, ate lunch together in the cafeteria, always talking away. We were both hungry for intelligent conversation.

The next time we got together to work on our term project, she wore a pair of hot pink shorts; not short shorts, they came down to mid thigh, and a sleeveless blouse. There was one more button undone. I wondered if there was any significance to that?

Heather took over the computer that night. She was good at doing spreadsheets, and I didn't know anything about them. She listed all the different Crusades, the countries they went into, who was the Pope at that time, and all kinds of relevant details.

I loved watching her work. When she was concentrating, sometimes she'd frown at the screen, or tip her head at an angle that caught the light in her eyes. She'd draw her lower lip between her teeth, or wet her lips with a flick of her pink tongue.

One of her bra straps had slid out of the top of her sleeveless blouse, and rested on her creamy white shoulder. I fixated on it; the strap is connected to the cups; the cups cover her creamy white breasts. I wondered what color her nipples were? Probably pink. Were they puffy? How big were her areolas? 

When she scooched forward in her chair, her shorts pulled up tight into her crotch. Was that a real camel toe, or was I just imagining it? All of a sudden Heather, even if she a Good Girl, was no longer off limits in my sexual fantasies. My cock started to swell.

I lost track of time the next night we were scheduled to work. I was playing my classical guitar, working on a piece called "Capricho Arabe," a very intense and spirited Spanish piece, that has one of the most beautiful melodies you will ever hear in your life.

When I finished the number, I was startled by the sound of applause coming from the doorway. 

"Oh, David, that was absolutely beautiful. Look, I've got goose bumps on my arms."

I blushed, and stammered a "Thank you," then wondered if she'd get goose bumps if I blew gently in her ear. 

"I've always wanted to learn to play the guitar, so I could accompany myself when I sing."

"Actually, it's really simple. All you need are three chords, G, C, and D, and you can play almost anything. Sit down and I'll show you the fingering."

She plunked herself down on the stool, and I set the guitar in her lap. I moved behind her so I could guide her hands. I got momentarily lost in her scent; the sweet strawberry rinse she used in her hair, and the lilac soap she used on her body. Her ponytail was tied up with a velvet ribbon; I wanted to untie it and run my fingers through her loose hair.

Looking over her shoulder, I could barely see the swell of her breasts down the front of her blouse. God, I could just slide my hand down there, under her bra, and feel that beautiful soft flesh. Then I could tweak her nipple and........

I reached around her and took her left hand in mine, to guide her fingers toward the right frets. Her soft, sensual hand was actually in mine. Her fingers were long and supple. I wrapped her hand around the neck of the guitar, wondering how it would feel wrapped around my cock.

As I guided her hand, my cheek was resting against hers. Did I just imagine it, or did press hers against mine. When I guided her right hand, to show her how to strum the strings, my arm brushed against her breast. My jerk-off fantasies had taken on a whole new dimension.

When I saw her to the door, when it was time for her to go home, I summoned up every ounce of courage I could muster. I put my arms around her and kissed her firmly on the mouth. She looked startled for a moment, then put her arms around my neck and kissed me back. 

We stood there in a firm liplock for what seemed to me to be an eternity.

Suddenly, she shouted "NO," broke away from me, and ran down the sidewalk as fast as she cold go.

I had royally fucked up. I had let my fantasies trump my common sense. She didn't want me that way, and I had totally blown a wonderful friendship. I didn't go to school the next day; I couldn't face her. I couldn't eat. I didn't sleep the night before. I couldn't get the image of the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen out of my mind. I felt like shit. She was a Good Girl, and Good Girls don't do that.

I sat there for awhile staring blankly at my computer screen. Without Heather, I had no desire to work on our history project. Or much of anything else, for that matter. I did what I usually do when I've got the blues; I picked up my guitar and started playing. I don't even remember what it was I played, just an open-ended improvisation with no beginning and no end. I was lost in the music, and suddenly there was a voice in the doorway.

"David?"

Heather was standing behind me. I jumped to my feet and went over to her.

"Heather, I'm so sorry. I don't know what got into me, but I promise I'll never do it again, and......."

"Shh," she said, and put her arms around my neck. She pulled my face to hers, and kissed me deeply, her lips so soft and supple. I returned the kiss, and she slipped her tongue between my lips. I met her tongue with mine, and we held each other for the longest time.

She pulled me close and held me tight, her firm breasts pressed into my chest. I tilted my pelvis back, so she wouldn't feel my hard-on; at this point I was terrified to do anything to offend her, or turn her off.

"David, I'm so sorry I ran away from you yesterday. Then, when I didn't see you in school, I was terrified that I'd never see you again."

"I guess I'm a little confused." Flummoxed is more the word.

"I want to kiss you. I want to make-out with you, but I've never kissed a guy before, and I don't know what to do. I don't want you to think I'm the dumbest girl on the planet. Then, yesterday, it kind of overwhelmed me, and I got scared."

"I've never kissed a girl either. But I have to say, for two morons, we were improvising pretty good there. I think with a little practice, we'll figure it out."

"Yeah, that's what my mom said."

"Your mom?"

"Don't worry, she's cool."

"This is the same mom who's married to Tank Pearce?"

"Oh, Daddy's just a big teddy bear." Yeah, I thought; a teddy bear that eats barbed wire sandwiches.

From then on, making-out was a daily ritual, and we did get damned good at it. Lots of lips, tongues, and heavy breathing. It was all I could do to keep my hands above her neck, but I made a concentrated effort to do just that. You don't grope a Good Girl. Which resulted in many attacks of blue balls, that had to be relieved by my good right hand.

Heather picked up the guitar really quickly, and it added a lot to her vocals. She was partial to folk-rock singers from the sixties and seventies, like Joan Baez, Joni Mitchell, and Judy Collins, or the timeless Emmy Lou Harris. She also liked country singers like Carrie Underwood and Taylor Swift.

I have a pretty good voice myself, and we would harmonize to songs done by Peter, Paul, and Mary, The Mamas and Papas, and some of the Beatles ballads, like "Imagine", "Michelle," and "Norwegian Wood." We performed occasionally at a local coffee shop, and usually ended a duet with a kiss. 

We were working right along on our project, when Heather caught me flat-footed.

"David, do ever look at porn on your computer?" 

"Uh, um....occasionally." I had promised myself that I would never lie to her.

"Do you masturbate when you watch it?"

"Uhhhh....occasionally." The occasion being days of the week that end in "y." 

"I've never seen any porn. I masturbate when I read romance novels."

Her tone was totally matter-of-fact, and that conversation ended right there. She went right back into the history project. Good Girls masturbate too?

I couldn't get the image of Heather doing it out of my mind. Her fingers rubbing her pussy. Her pussy. I wondered if her pubic hair is blonde, too? Maybe she shaves it? I rubbed the shit out of myself, thinking about her rubbing herself.

I was never a believer in coincidences, but the next day, her little brother, Kevin, showed up on my doorstep.

"Hey David, I got something you might like to buy."

"And what would that be?"

He pulled something out of his pocket. A pair of white lace bikini panties.

"Heather's?"

"Yup. Here, smell them," he said handing them to me. I held them up to my nose. A heavenly sweet, musky scent assaulted my senses. Pussy juice! Heather's pussy juice! My cock immediately got hard. Must be those pheromones that I read about. I had to have them.

"How much do you want for them, Kevin?"

"Twenty-five bucks."

"And how much blackmail money are you going to hit me for?"

"Nothing. This'll be just a straight deal." 

I'm not sure I totally trusted the little fucker. He'd have a great future collecting vig for the mob. But I had to have the panties, so I forked over the money. When I spanked my monkey that night, I laid them over my face. I had both the image and the scent of her pussy.

Heather wanted to go to one of our garage band rehearsals. I was a little hesitant, because some of the guys are a little weird, but she insisted. Our band isn't into grunge, or heavy metal or any of the new wave music; we pretty much do classic rock. 

She had never heard me play electric guitar, so we set up a couple solo numbers to impress her. I did a killer version of Eric Clapton's "Layla" and then really kicked ass on Jimi Hendricks' "Purple Haze." 

During a break, Tommy dragged out a cooler full of beer. He passed a bunch of Michelob's around, and when Heather stuck her hand out, he gave her one, too. I was sure she'd never had any alcohol before, but she chugged it right on down, and got another one.

I had mentioned that she was a good singer, so one of the guys handed her a mike and pushed her front and center. She did a couple of Annie Lennox and Stevie Nicks covers that blew them away. Then she did a spot-on version of Janis Joplin's "Me and Bobby McGee" that knocked everyone's socks off. We had talked about getting a girl singer, and it looked like we found one.

When we were all sitting around again, Monk pulled out a really fat joint, and fired it up. Oh shit, I thought. Drugs! Good Girls don't do drugs! She's gonna bolt for the door. But she didn't, and when the doobie got passed to her, she took a big hit, and sucked it right in. She didn't cough or anything. Then she took another hit. And another one. When it was apparent she was going to Bogart that one and not pass it around, Monk chuckled and lit another one.

"Wow, I really like that pot. I am soo buzzed," she said.

We stopped for a pizza on the way home. Heather couldn't decide what she wanted on it, so we got everything. She ate three-quarters of it. "Wow, best pie I ever had," she giggled, and then ordered a banana split.

When I took her home, we parked halfway down the block, under some big trees, so her father couldn't see us making out. She was particularly amorous, and went about kissing with a frenzy.




The Good Girl



"Hey, want to see my new bra?"

She unbuttoned half her blouse and held it open, so I could see this vision in white lace. The bra was pretty, but I really liked what was in it; the top half of her breasts were spilling over the top. They looked like alabaster, and she had a few cute freckles sprinkled across her chest. 

My lips worked their way from her mouth, down her throat, and to the tops of her boobs. She held my head in her hands, and was squirming in her seat and mewling. I was just about to slide my tongue under the top of her bra, when the DJ on the radio announced the time.

"Oh shit, I have to be home at midnight; I gotta go." She gave me a deep soul kiss, and said, "I love you, David," before jumping out of the car and heading for her front door.

Oh my God, she said she loved me. I wondered if that's really how she felt, or if it was the weed talking.

We had been hard at work on our term project. Heather, her brow furled, was staring at the screen. She pushed her chair back and looked at me.

"David?"

"Yes?"

"Can I watch you masturbate?" I was knocked for a loop.

"Well, I, er, ah, um...."

"I've never seen a penis before."

"Ah, er, ummm...."

"You can watch me do it if you want," this Good Girl said.

Well, that totaled all of my inhibitions. "Uh, who goes first?"

"May be we can do it at the same time?"

"I guess we should take off our pants, then."

I dropped my shorts, and my throbbing hard cock slapped me in the belly. I watched as Heather slowly pulled her shorts down over her curvy hips. Then her lacy black bikini panties came down. She had a blonde bush on her mound, that covered up her slit. We lay back on the bed together.

She examined my dick and my balls from every angle. 

"Wow, it's really big." I'm not that big. I know the average hard cock is six inches, and mine measures just a little over seven.

"So show me how you do it."

I took my shaft in my hand and started stroking it.

"Watch how I do mine."

She spread her legs just a little bit, and with two fingers, began rubbing herself at the bottom of her bush. Her fingers went round and round for a bit, then she started rubbing back and forth, picking up the pace. I was kind of disappointed that I couldn't see more, but it was exciting anyway.

I was whacking away for awhile, watching her intently, when I felt her hand over mine.

"Can I do it for you? You can do mine."

She wrapped her soft hand around my shaft, her long fingers encircling it. God, her touch felt wonderful; I'd never had a hand besides mine on it. She took my hand and put it between her legs.

"Do you feel that little bump there? Rub your fingers over it, like this."

I found the bump, and started rubbing it like she showed me, but I still couldn't see anything. It felt really good anyway; my palm rested on the silky soft hair on her mons. That same musky sweet odor that I had smelled on her panties permeated the air.

I slipped my middle finger into her vagina, and she gasped when it went in. It was so wet, so hot, so slippery. I went back to rubbing her the way she showed me. Her breath started to come in ragged gasps, and her hips rose up.

"Oh, David, I'm going to come...I'm going to come...OOOH GOD, OOO, Ahhhhh."

Wow, I had actually given a girl an orgasm! I was really proud of myself. I was getting close to coming, too, and Heather gave her full attention to me. I was oozing precum, and she smeared it over my head. My balls drew up, and I could feel the rush traveling up my shaft.

"I'm coming, Heather....move your head out of the way...ohh...now...NOW, oh Jesus God! Ohhh yes...yes...yes..."

She didn't move out of the way, and my first spurt caught her right under the chin. The next burst came slowly and oozed out of the head of my cock and ran down her hand.

"Oh, that was so cool! I love watching it squirt out." She wiped my jizz off her neck, and spent a minute or so playing with it in her hand.

"David?"

"Yes?"

"I looked at a Playboy magazine that Kevin had hidden under his bed, and all of the girls had their pubic hair shaved off. Do guys really like that?"

"Some guys do."

"Do you like that?"

"Uh, sort of."

I was time for her to go home, so we reluctantly put our pants back on. I wiped my finger under my nose, and kept her precious scent on my upper lip. I didn't wash my face for days. 

We were supposed to be working on our project again, but I was having a hard time concentrating. I kept thinking about her hand on my cock and my fingers in her pussy. She broke my train of thought.

"David?"

"Yes?"

"Can we do that again?"

"Do what?"

"You know, what we did with each other." "Sure." Oh boy, oh boy.

"Can I put my mouth on your penis?" 

"Um, sure." Does a bear shit in the woods?

" Ah, um.....would you use your mouth on me?" Is the Pope Catholic?

"I'd like that a lot. Why did you hesitate when you asked me?"

"Well, a lot of the girls at school say that they give their boyfriend blowjobs, but then the guys don't want to eat their pussies."

Blowjobs? Pussy eating? God, even Good Girls know the words.

"Could we take all our clothes off? I really like to feel your breasts, too."

"I hope you're not disappointed; my boobs are kind of small, compared to those girls in Playboy."

"Oh baby, those girls all have fake tits. They're filled with silicone. You have beautiful natural breasts. A C cup isn't small."

"How do you know I wear a C cup?" Oops. Busted! But I said I'd never lie....

"Um, Kevin told me. He went through your dresser drawer."

"That little shit," she said, and started laughing.

I didn't tell her about me paying him for the information. I told her the truth, just not all of it. Now I don't have to cough up the blackmail money any more. 

I guess it was okay, because she started unbuttoning her blouse. Underneath, she was wearing a lacy white half bra. Even Good Girls like foxy lingerie. It lifted her breasts up and pulled them together, so she had this magnificent cleavage. She moved to unfasten her bra.

"Wait, wait, let me do it."

I was going to do it, but I wanted to do something else first. I kissed the swells where her upper breasts spilled over the top of the bra. Then I ran my tongue back and forth in that beautiful cleft that the bra made between her tits. Another fantasy became reality.

With shaking hands, I undid the clasp between the cups. I held the bra over her breasts for awhile, then slowly, slowly let it down to reveal her beautiful orbs. I filled my hands with them. So soft, yet firm, with pink areolas and perky nipples. I bent to kiss one.

"Let's take the rest of our clothes off first," she said, with a suddenly very sultry voice.

In an instant, I had whipped my tee shirt over my head, and dropped my shorts. My hard cock was pointing up at the sky. Heather dropped her pink shorts, then her lacy bikini panties. Oh. My. God. Her pussy was as bald as the day she was born. With the hair gone, her slit was totally visible, with a hint of her minora peeking through. And in a little while, my mouth was going to be on it!

"I shaved it for you. Do you like it?"

"Oh yeah!" 

We lay together, holding each other tight. Skin on skin. Flesh on flesh. I ran my hands lightly down her back, over her magnificent ass, between the cleft of her cheeks, and back up again.

"I love you, Heather."

"I love you too, David. I was falling in love with you a couple weeks after we started our history project, and then when you kissed me, I knew for sure."

We held each other and kissed for the longest time, then my mouth started traveling south down her body. When I got down to her breasts, I rained kiss all over them; top, bottom, sides, and the valley in between. 

When I got to her nipples, I ran the tip of my tongue round and round each one, before taking them into my mouth. Feeling them swell and harden for the very first time was a wonderful experience. They felt like gumdrops in my mouth. I would suckle one, and roll the other between my thumb and forefinger. 

"Oh God, David, that feels soo good. The feeling is going right down into my pussy." Aha, she said "pussy;" now I don't have to come up with a polite name for it anymore. Now, if only she'd say "cock" instead of "penis."

"Oh David....David...I'm going to come, David ...OOH...OH...Ahhhhh. God, I didn't know you could make me come by sucking on my tits." 

I gave her some time to come down, then my mouth started moving lower on her body again. Across her flat stomach, down to her mound, along one inner thigh, and the across to the other one.

This was a whole new experience for me, and I hoped I could do it right. I read about how to give head in the "Playboy Advisor," and I really wanted it to be good for her.

I ran my tongue through the creases between her outer lips and her legs, and then started kissing the puffy lips themselves. Her body started to quiver when I ran my tongue up and down her slit.

Pushing her knees up, I spread her legs apart. Her clitoris and part of her inner lips were sticking out between her swollen lips. I took my fingers and spread them wide, revealing the treasures that lay inside. 

Everything was bright pink, and glistening with her moisture. Her engorged minora looked like angel's wings, starting under her hood and running down to the bottom of her cunt. I ran my tongue over them, tasting her sweet ambrosia. They say pussy is an acquired taste, but I was hooked immediately.

I kissed, and licked, and teased and tickled, listening to her moans intensify. I pulled her lips apart and looked into her vagina. I could see her hymen, just past the entrance; a thin pink membrane with a finger sized hole in the middle. Some milky white juice was leaking out, and I stuck my tongue into her love tunnel, lapping it all up. 

I could reach her maidenhead, and I wondered if that was sensitive too. The tip of her clit was just peeking out, and I slid her hood back so I could see more of it. I was entranced! It looked like a little cock head. I flicked at it with my tongue, then ran little circles around the glans.

I nibbled on it with my lips, and when I sucked her whole clit into my mouth, her hips rose and she pressed her cunt harder into my face, and started grinding it into my face.

"Oh God, David....don't stop sucking it....don't stop...Oh Jesus...OHHH FUCK FUCK FUCK...OHHH....I'm coming so hard, David....I can't stop coming...so good, so good..."

I didn't know the "F" word was in her vocabulary. I learned later that women often screamed the same things, during orgasm or childbirth, even Good Girls who wouldn't utter the words in any other context. 

She sat up, her face and her body still radiating pure heat, and reached for my cock. She is so beautiful. I loved the way her breasts dangled when she leaned over me, her nipples still hard from her arousal.

"I want to feel you in my mouth, David. I'm not sure I'm going to do it right, but I read an article in 'Cosmo' about how to please your man, so you have to tell me what feels good to you." 

"Just being in the same room with you feels good to me."

I reached up and untied the velvet ribbon that held her ponytail, and let her golden blonde hair down, making a silky tent over the lower part of my body. I filled my hands with her hanging tits.

She started licking my shaft with the flat of her tongue, from the base to the crown. She licked all around the rim of my head, over the top, then wiggled the pink tip into the little slit on top. 

Dripping her saliva on the head of my cock, she twirled her hand around it, while her mouth found my balls; licking, nipping the skin on my sac with her lips, finally, one at a time, drawing each testicle into her mouth.

Finally, she took my cock into her mouth. With her lips tight around it, she dipped her head, then pulled back up, letting it come out of her mouth with and audible "pop." Taking it back into her mouth, her tongue flicked back and forth over my frenulum, that little place just under the head that drives me crazy. 

All the licking, sucking, and pumping on my shaft was reaching a crescendo, and the tingling feeling started in my toes, finally reaching my balls. They tightened up, and I knew my climax was coming...big time.

"I'm going to come, Heather. Move your head if you don't want it in your mouth....it's coming, Heather....I'm coming NOW....OH GOD....Ahhhhh!"

She took spurt after spurt deep in her throat, swallowing it all. Her pink tongue snicked out and caught the last drop, at the corner of her mouth. She gave me a huge smile, showing all her pretty white teeth.

"Am I your good little cocksucker, David?"

My Good Girl can be soo BAD.

Progress on our history project had gotten really slowed down by our amorous adventures, so we reluctantly plowed back into it. After an hour or so of research, she pushed her chair back, and looked at me with a lopsided grin on her face.

"Can you show me some of the porn you look at?"

"I didn't know girls liked porn."

"I don't know if I do; I've never seen any. Some girls at school look at it."

I didn't want to turn her off with some of the raunchy stuff on-line. I have a subscription to X-Art, which has some really high-class stuff, so I brought that one up and typed in my password. I skipped over the girl-on-girl and the gang-bang stuff, and chose one that had straight sex, one guy and one girl.

The video started with this stunning girl, reclining on an upholstered chair reading a book. This really buff dude comes up behind her, leans over, and they start kissing.

"Oh, she's really beautiful, David."

"Not as beautiful as you are, my love." I dropped my mouth to Heather's, and had to push the pause button for a couple minutes, while we kissed.

There was a lot more kissing and tongue swapping on the screen, before the dude pulled her top off, revealing her pert, perky tits, which he proceeded to kiss and suck on. 

Heather sat with rapt attention to the screen. Her breathing started getting really heavy, when the dude started working on her pussy.

When they got to the close-ups of the freight train roaring into the tunnel, I toggled it up to full screen, which is pretty awesome on a thirty-inch monitor. Heather started squirming in her seat, and then her hand slipped inside her shorts, and down between her legs. 

Her musky odor escaped from her pants, filling the air with the scent of ripe cunt. Watching the pure lust on her face was as good as watching the porn on the screen. I was hard as a rock. 

"Wow, that was soo HOT," she gasped.

"I'm glad you liked it."

"Make love to me, David."

"W-what?"

"Fuck me, David. Fuck me now."

"I, uh....I, uh...."

"Don't you want to?"

"God yes, I want to. I just don't have a condom right now."

"You don't need one; I'm on the pill."

"Uh, you are?" Tank Pearce's daughter, perennial Good Girl, is taking birth control pills?

"Yes. My mom took me to her gynecologist, and I got a prescription."

"Does your dad know about it?" I had visions of him ripping my head off and shitting down my neck.

"Yes." 

"What did he say about it?"

"He said I'm of legal age, and he just hopes I don't do something stupid. And that I love the man I'm making love with."

"Does he know about you and me?"

"Yes. Now will you shut up and fuck me?"

"Yes."

As hot and anxious as I was, I wanted to go slow, and savor every moment. We kissed, and the promise of what was to come made it so much more delicious. I undid her blouse, one button at a time, my mouth devouring every inch of skin as it was revealed.

We were both on fire. Once I got her blouse off, she thrust her lace-clad breasts into my face, and held me tight against her. I kissed my way down to the lace, then snaked my tongue underneath it, licking and teasing her nipples.

She didn't wait for me to undo the clasp; she ripped the bra off herself, and pressed a tit right into my hungry mouth.

"Suck it, David, suck it hard." 

I alternated between nipples, licking and sucking. When I nipped one with my teeth, it sent her over the edge. I just love it that she comes so easily. The look on her face is exquisite when she reaches her climax. She takes her lower lip between her teeth, then she melts into this dreamy smile.

When I finally got my face down into the Promised Land, her panties were soaked. I tongued her pussy through wet silk, teasing and tantalizing, until I pulled them down with my teeth. 

I'll never get tired of looking at her pussy; at all the lovely folds and the hot pink lips that beckon me. She was already writhing in anticipation, before my mouth found her flesh. Her taste is honey with a hint of musk; her aroma is intoxicating.

I kissed. I licked. I sucked. She fisted the sheets when I took her clit into my mouth. She arched her back and thrust her hips up. 

"Oh, Jesus, David....I'm coming....coming....coming....OHHHH....AHHH....mmmmm"

Her breath was coming in ragged gasps. She pulled my head up to hers and covered it with kisses.

"I'm ready now, David, so ready....so ready. I want to feel your cock inside me."

"I'm afraid of hurting you."

"My mom says it's only going to hurt for a minute, and then it will all be worth it."

"You told your mom we're going to do this?"

"I told her I wanted to. She said I'll always treasure the first time."

"You get on top the first time, then you can control what happens."

"Okay, but before we're done, I want to do it in every position they did in the video."

She straddled me, and I pulled the ribbon out of her hair, letting it cascade over her shoulder. If I have one fetish, it's watching a woman's breasts emerge through a curtain of her hair.

My engorged cock was lying against my belly. She lowered herself so that her inner lips lay on either side of my cock. She slowly slid back and forth over my shaft, coating it with her juice. I could feel her hardened clit rub against my pole. 

She raised herself up, took my cock in her hand, and placed the tip of it at her opening, her minora almost covering my crown. Then, without warning, she dropped her entire weight down, burying me to the hilt in her wet, warm cunt.

"OH!" I could see her wince with the pain, then ever so slowly, the wince became a smile.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. It only hurt for a minute. It feels so good to have you inside me; I feel so full."

Slowly, she rose up, then settled back down again. She was so tight. So hot. So wet. My cock had never been bigger; her vagina gripped me like a velvet fist. Her breasts bounced up and down as she rode me, and I filled my hands with them.

"I love you so much, David; I'm so glad I waited for you."

"I love you too, Heather," and I'm glad I waited for you. This is the happiest day of my life."

She picked up the pace, riding me faster and harder. My thumb found her swollen clit, and she reached behind me and cupped my balls. I started bucking my hips, and drove into her as she came down on me. Her breath turned to gasps and each stroke produced a mewling moan.

"I'm going to come, David...ohh...Ohh....OOH...Oh God, OH FUCK...OH YES!"

Her cunt contracted, squeezing me tight, and I came, too, emptying my balls deep in her womb, shouting her name. My cock slipped out of her, and I could watch my cum ooze out of her, tinted pink with her virgin blood.

That weekend we managed to try every position we saw in the video.

My Good Girl is soo good! 



The Good Girl



I lifted my head off the mattress just enough to glance at the bedside clock. 11:25. Shit. He was keeping a tight grip on my hips as he stabbed into me, my ass angled rudely high, my face scrubbing against the sheets, my arms stretched above my head, elbows slightly bent to absorb the shock. I pressed my palms against the headboard to push back against his relentless pistoning that was threatening to grind me along the mattress until my head thumped against the wood.

I wiggled my hips at my husband, trying to nudge his arousal forward. He had already jabbed my cervix three times, two of them hard enough to really hurt. After twenty minutes of this pounding, most of it in this position, I knew I'd be hurting in the morning. My demanding three-year-old climbing into our bed at six a.m. wasn't going to allow for much sleep. Again.

To make matters worse I was beginning to dry out, and Josh wasn't slowing down. I was already feeling abraded. And that damn thumb of his was prodding at my asshole again. That seemed to be his new thing of late. It was time to finish.

"Baby," I cooed to him, "lie on top of me, baby. Make me come."

Josh grunted and, thankfully, mercifully, his fat cock dragged back and felt as if it was pulling me inside-out. I couldn't take much more of this. I rolled on my back, spread my legs wide and welcoming and smiled up at him, my arms outstretched. "C'mere, baby."

He loomed over me and quickly rediscovered my vagina. Two short strokes later and he was back into his rhythm with full-length tip to root plunges. I closed my eyes and hung on. His hairy, muscled body pressed heavily on my breasts and belly, making it difficult for me to move -- I dug my heels into the mattress as best I could, trying to find some leverage to begin my matching hip thrusts. Those always seemed to work.

"Oh, baby, that's so good," I murmured into his ear. I began to dig my fingers into his shoulder blades on every driving inward thrust. "Make me come, baby. Make me come." Josh was grunting from his effort. His plum-sized testicles thumped against my butt on every instroke. The friction was getting worse. It was time to finish him.

I sped up my breathing, then I began to moan, at first softly, then progressively louder, and my fingernails clawed in deeper and deeper. Move the hips, I reminded myself, keep moving the hips. "Oh baby baby so good baby baby," I groaned. He was breathing harder himself. That was a good sign.

I could always read my husband, but in truth he wasn't a very difficult book. He was a patterned lover. Predictable in his aggressive, athletic movements, and slow in his arousal. But now I knew he was just about ready to explode.

"Oh baby baby so good." I began to gasp. It was time. "Oh baby oh baby oh fuck oh fuck me fuck me." I undulated my hips as fast and furiously as I could, whipping him onward, now gouging my fingernails in and not backing off. When I felt that telltale surge of rigidity, I just drove him over the finish line with a high-pitched squeal and as much clenching of my vaginal muscles as I could manage.

It worked. It always worked. Josh exhaled a throaty groan and jammed his ramrod into me and held himself there, his body stiff and paralyzed. He had nicked my cervix yet one more time, but I just ignored it and kept doing my hip thrusts. I didn't want any retreat at this point. Up, up, up and then I felt the first big jerking jump of his penis. He exhaled a wet, wheezy moan. Up, up, up. I knew I could milk him like this, knew how much he loved to have me keep buffing myself up and down his shaft while he was frozen motionless and spurting.

And he was definitely spurting. "Come for me, baby, come for me," I urged his ear. He pulsed again and again. "Oh that's a good boy, oh so good, squirt it in me, baby." I worked his throbbing erection with my sheath. I was slippery again, bathed with his white balm. And when he could again move his hips, I stopped my own and let him take over, stroking himself through his creamy release. I wanted him to empty those big balls of his. I was going to be too sore to repeat all this tomorrow night.

And finally he was done. I always looked forward to this time, with its gentle kisses and whispered sweet nothings and the languid, sloppy connection of relaxed bodies. He wasn't pounding me now. He was thanking me. He twitched inside me. I squeezed back.

It was funny, I thought to myself, how much control I had over his orgasm. And how little control he had over mine.

After the kisses and whispers, after his spent erection had shrunk back to merely meaty flesh, after he had slipped away to his side of our king-size bed, I waited patiently for his soft snores before I again spread my legs and began to touch myself.

I was raised to be a Good Girl, lectured from birth to keep my hands away from Down There, to resist temptations, to have control. To walk down the aisle in a white gown and then, on my wedding night, to give my virginity to my husband. No one prepared me for the shock of learning that my best friend in high school, my freshman college roommate, had gotten herself pregnant during the summer after that first year.

The following Fall I found myself with a new roommate, who startled me with her ritual of nightly masturbation. I would feign sleep and watch her in the dark. She was always so quiet, so restrained, even when I could hear the liquid sounds coming from between her legs and the suppressed quickening breaths rushing through her nostrils. At the end, when her knees would rise to form twin islands of bedsheet, her breathing would halt for a few curiously delicious seconds as her head arched back into the pillow, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Even when sweet Barry patiently seduced me that winter, I held onto the essence of my virtue. Though his mouth would nuzzle my hard brown nipples, from one to the other and back again, and his fingers would separate my slick pink petals and tease life into my clitoris and slip delicately into my vagina, I never gave him my pleasure, my soul.

And even when his persistence finally found his nakedness pressed against mine, and his horny hardness rubbed forever up and down my slit to spread me wide and wet, I would only allow him to spurt his sticky white lava across my belly. I was a Good Girl when I protested his gentle exploratory nudges into my secret folds. We would argue, he would plead, I would resist. I never let him hold onto those temporary territorial advances into my intimate inner place.

We were doomed, he and I, as he grew tired of the persuasion and I grew tired of the struggle, and when we parted ways I knew I was right. I had recaptured my lost territory. And then I met Josh.

Josh was handsome and fun and friendly. He swept me off my rebounding feet, both figuratively and literally. The four months of persistent grinding forward march that was Barry was equaled in a two-week blitz that was Josh. But his frightening erection wasn't content to languish on my belly. Before I could explain I was a Good Girl, he was inside me, painfully stuck halfway and shuddering his seed. Only then did I surrender the rest of my insides, his path made slippery by the very stuff that produced Jason, one dress, one aisle, and nine months later.

The Good Girl became the Good Wife. "Keep him satisfied, and he won't wander," my mother had whispered to me. I did the best I could do. I gave him my body throughout my pregnancy, up until the last two months when I feared that his length would damage the baby. Almost four long, exhausting months with only my clumsy hands and inexperienced mouth, then on to a normal married life, this time blessedly protected by the Pill.

No one told me it would be like this, though. Not my mother, not my friends. My son and my husband were both insatiable, each in his own way. The Good Wife and the Good Mother were always busy.

And now, as my solitary right forefinger traced slow figure eights on my clitoral shaft, I was careful to stay away from the electric sensitivity of the exposed tip. It was a languid rise I sought, for I rejoiced in the journey, not solely in the arrival. My finger dipped periodically into the oozing reservoir below to retrieve its soothing treasure. I was still sore.

But this night, the same as countless other nights, the essence I spread across my plump lips and around my increasingly quivering clit did not remind me of my sleeping husband, nor did it remind me of Barry and what he would leave on my belly. Rather, it evoked memories of that college roommate and her private pleasure.

My finger was joined by a second, then a third, and with their slippery quickening pressure the controlled figure eights became crude zeroes, then frantic sloppy diagonals that shouldered aside my fat lips to focus on the proudly upthrust bud that was my core. And when my orgasm burst forth and captured me, only then did I allow myself to remember that penis pulsing its white streams inside me, inside the Good Girl who wasn't me.



The Good Girl



This story could also have been placed in the "Reluctance, Non-Consent" category. If you don't like that type of story, don't read on.

_____________________ 

"You always seem so content with your marriage, Liam," one of my business partners and friends said to me as we were driving to a ball game.

"I guess because I really am, Mike," I replied. "Plus, once you turn 50 – like I did last year – your available options seem to drop precipitously," I laughed.

"I doubt that," Mike laughed back. "I think you could have your pick of any girl at the office, single or married, if you so choose. Don't you see the looks that they give you?"

"Just trying to get on the boss' good side," I smiled.

If I weren't humble, I would have agreed with Mike. With almost no effort on my part I have always been attractive to members of the opposite sex. I'm told that it is because I have an open and friendly face with sparkling blue eyes, I am a good listener, and thanks to good genes I have a high metabolism so that I've never been the least bit overweight, and with only minimal exercise (mostly bicycling, kayaking and weightlifting, a total of only two or three times a week) I've maintained good muscle tone. It certainly is not because I'm the best looking guy; I consider my facial features to be only slightly better than average.

I've been married to the same woman, Kathy, for almost thirty years because we are simpatico. We both have giving and upbeat personalities, similar intelligence, and enough interests both in common and different that we always have something to talk about. We also have three great kids.

The only thing less than perfect about our marriage is the sex. It is difficult to admit, and I would never even hint it to Kathy, but she is bad in bed. No matter what I have tried over the last twenty nine years (we never had sex together before marriage, if you can believe that) it came up "nada!" She simply is not as passionate, playful, inventive, or lustful as any of the women I had sex with before we got married. While even after we turned 50 we still have had sex about once a week or ten days, on a scale of one to ten it is only about a three or four as far as physical satisfaction is concerned, although a nine as far as an expression of love is concerned. Despite the lack of physical fireworks I never had any interest in having sex with other women despite almost daily opportunities to do so, and I'm quite sure that she hasn't either.

There was only one rough patch in our marriage – actually a continuation of when we got married. Kathy's parents are ultra-rich. Her mother, Grace, is an heiress who never earned a dime in her life, but could manage money very well; and her father, Chamberlain, is a sycophant, at least where Grace is concerned. Unlike the normal situation he had the looks and she had the money, and thankfully Kathy's face is more like Chamberlain's so that she is a very attractive woman. Her personality is nothing like either of her parents', and if she didn't look like Chamberlain and have her Grace's nice round ass (the only good feature her mother has), I'd think that she was adopted.

Even though Kathy and I fell madly in love our senior year in college, I wasn't good enough for her, in Grace's eyes. Apparently since my parents didn't have big bucks, and since I went through school on a football scholarship – "What a distasteful, boorish game, only for thugs and miscreants," according to Grace – the facts that I was desirable to woman and at least smart enough to graduate from the same school as her daughter, were not enough to make me acceptable.

For the first time in her life Kathy defied her mother and we got married in a civil ceremony with only her brother, my sister, and my parents in attendance. This denied Kathy the big wedding she had dreamed about as a little girl. Grace disowned us, and Chamberlain was too big of a milquetoast to stand up to her.

It's funny how financial success and a grandkid can change things.

By the time that our first child, Kevin Jackson Williams, was born I had become a success in business. With my two partners we already had about thirty employees, and enough money to have a nice lifestyle. This included a beautiful four bedroom home, not like the mansion that Kathy grew up in, but one that 99% of the population would love to have.

When Kevin was about four months old I came home from work anxious to see him. A limo was parked on the street in front of our house, a very strange occurrence. When I entered the house the first thing that I heard was the unmistakable grating voice of my mother.

There in the living room was Kathy, holding Kevin, Grace and Chamberlain.

In an agitated voice I said "What are you doing here Grace?"

"We've come to see our beautiful grandson; Chamberlain and I have decided to let you back into our lives," she said with a smile.

"Oh really, how thoughtful," I said with as much sarcasm as possible. Apparently she thought that it was sincere because she had the gall to continue.

"Yes; well I was just telling Katherine here that it would be wonderful if Kevin's last name was hyphenated to Williams-Smythe, so that people would immediately know his proper roots."

I was stunned for about twenty seconds. Grace or Chamberlain might have said something else, but I couldn't be sure because I had zoned out. I glanced at Kathy and she had a disturbed look on her face, was staring at me and shaking her head "No."

I walked over to the front door, opened it, walked back to Grace, grabbed the rear of the collar of her dress suit with my left hand and her belt with my right, lifted her up and walked her out the door screaming. I dumped her on the hood of the limo and told her chauffer "Get this piece of shit out of my sight, NOW!"

Apparently Grace was screaming for Chamberlain to do something about it, so even though he was terrified he swung at me with his right hand. I caught it in mid-air with my left and crushed it enough to bring him to his knees. "The only reason I'm not going to break every bone in your hand Chamberlain is because you are a sorry piece of shit who never had the balls to stand up to the uber-bitch that you're married to. But if you ever swing at me again I'll break your spine."

I released Chamberlain and he cried out, trying to massage the life back into his right hand. Then I turned to Grace. "Unless you get on your knees and apologize to me for being the incredible bitch that you have been to me, and then beg your daughter for her forgiveness for ruining her dream of a big wedding, you will never see Kevin or any other children we have, and neither Kathy nor I will ever speak to you again. She will have to choose between you and me and while nothing is certain in life I believe the odds-makers in Vegas will make me a 20-1 favorite."

Kathy had witnessed this exchange from a position about twenty feet behind me. When I turned her mouth was agape, but she said nothing. I gently escorted her and Kevin back into the house, closed the door, and started playing with Kevin. Kathy simply sat in the living room shell-shocked.

After Kevin went to bed Kathy lit into me. She had no problem with me telling her mother off – in a gentle manner. She had a real problem with me physically throwing her out and the language I used, and the demand that any apology she made be on her knees. For the only time in my life, before or since, I told Kathy that I had not the slightest regret, that I would never apologize to her or to her parents, and that I meant what I said. If she ever even talked to her mother again without the apology I was history.

I don't know if I meant the last part, but I convinced Kathy that I did.

Things were icy around our house for a good month, including no sex. Things gradually thawed and a year after the incident we were back to where we were before it occurred – a loving family.

Apparently Kathy's brother, Reggie, was an intermediary between Kathy and her parents; I know that Kathy did not want to call my bluff about her talking to her mother. Kathy gave Reggie photos and videos of Kevin and our happy family, and apparently it was too much for Grace to bear once Kathy got pregnant with our second child about three years after "the incident." When I came home on a Friday night, once Kevin and I had a good "wrassle," and I gently stroked Kathy's belly, she had some news.

"I talked to Reggie at length today," she said smiling.

"Really? What about?" I inquired.

"My mother and father want to visit us this Sunday," she said with a lilt in her voice, like it would be good news.

I controlled my blood pressure rise fairly well, considering. "Is the bitch ready to get on her knees and apologize?" I asked in a snarky voice.

"She told Reggie that she will sincerely apologize to both of us, but not on her knees," Kathy hesitantly said.

"Then tell her not to bother," I snarled.

"Actually, Liam, I've already told Reggie to have them come by at noon on Sunday. If she isn't sincere with her apology we will ask her to leave. But we will not make her get on her knees, and you will not physically evict her," she said in a well-rehearsed voice.

With anger in my eyes I started to retort something vile, but she held up her hand to stop me and used words and a tone with me that she never had used before. "Shut up, Liam, and listen. There is no way you'll leave me when I'm pregnant, there is no way that you'll leave Kevin without an everyday father, and there is no way that you'll throw away our love over this. IF her apology is sincere, and if she agrees not to meddle in our lives, we will accept it and allow my mother and father back into our lives. Is that clear!"

I could tell that she was on the verge of tears, and was absolutely no way that I was going to let my loving pregnant wife break down over this. Plus, she actually was being reasonable. So I softened my look, simply said "OK," then took her into my arms and let her sob.

Believe it or not but the bitch did sincerely apologize to both of us, Chamberlain followed suit, and with only minor lapses from that day forward they both have acted almost like normal people. They both are still terrified of me, and I have done nothing to mitigate that terror over the years. However, I am civil to them primarily because my three kids are happy to have four grandparents instead of just two and I don't want to set a bad example for the kids.

That is likely far more than you need to know but it is background for the main theme of this recitation.

Over the years Kathy and I have had a large circle of friends. Most have similar values to Kathy and me, and most like to party a little wildly – while not being gross or too "handsy" or "huggy!" The one consistent exception was William and Angela Horton.

The Hortons had always been a profoundly religious strict Catholic couple. They both went to conservative Roman Catholic schools from elementary through college, and in the vast majority of situations seemed to let religion dictate their actions and politics. I often got the feeling that the only reason that they socialized with us was to see how the other half lived, although they did avoid our occasions when they predicted that they might be too "extreme." I do remember William once saying, in all seriousness, that "sex should only be for procreation."

Angela was the only one of our regular female friends that didn't flirt with me at least a little. I tried on occasion to harmlessly flirt with her, but it was usually met with indifference, lack of understanding, or sometimes even indignation. I do remember a number of times thinking "what a waste" when interacting with Angela because she is a good looking woman and if she dressed less conservatively and didn't have a bone up her ass would probably be one of the sexiest women in my experience.

Angela had three kids, and couldn't have any more after the third for medical reasons, so I often wondered if that meant – in view of William's apparently serious comment and her stiff nature – that she hadn't had sex since her youngest child was born eighteen years ago. That occasioned a number of other "what a waste" contemplations in my pea brain.

The only time that Angela had made any body contact, aside from a handshake, with me in the fourteen years that I knew her was when I helped her oldest son out of a jam about two years before the critical part of this story. What the jam consisted of is irrelevant to this story, but it was serious and something that she did not want to tell William about. For that I got a hug and a promise of financial compensation; I firmly declined the latter, but to my surprise was actually aroused by the former, so much so that I'm afraid that my little friend poked her in the belly before she released me.

Considering Angela's history, she flabbergasted her friends by holding a "re-commitment ceremony" that could only be described as bizarre. Angela had her ample-size house decorated for a wedding, including with a variety of elaborate flower arrangements. The food was a bountiful catered buffet, and the music for the ceremony was provided by the string and coronet parts of an excellent local rock band. Those were not the flabbergasting parts.

The flabbergasting parts were that the re-commitment ceremony was not conducted by a Catholic priest but by some sort of Eastern guru, affiliation unclear, and that the vows had been written by Angela. The vows included the words "Recanting all previous vows made during our initial ceremony," and conspicuously did not include the word "obey" or the phrase "forsaking all others." Although not quite as flabbergasting, but certainly surprising, were Angela's almost see-through short dress, and the other parts of the rock band that had played at the ceremony playing at the reception, held in a large tent with portable dance floor that filled William and Angela's back yard.

Angela was effervescent after the ceremony and made a point of going around and chatting up and hugging all of the guests. Not only was the hug I received startling but so was her invitation to dance a couple of dances with me, during which she displayed a talent that I had never seen before. She laughed when I complimented her on her vitality and replied "I've been taking lessons."

Just before Kathy and I were getting ready to leave what had truly been a fun and totally remarkable evening Angela asked me to dance with her one more time. This time it was a slow dance. I couldn't believe it when she put her right thigh between my legs as we whisked each other around the floor, or her comment when we broke as the song ended. "There is really something I need to talk with you about. Is it possible that you could come to my house sometime Tuesday morning – please, I'd be forever grateful?"

Since I'm the boss at work, and since Tuesday has the lightest workload 90% of the time, I said "Sure; how's 10 a.m.?"

"Thank you, Liam," she gushed with a big smile on her face. She kissed me on the cheek – adding to the "firsts" of the evening – then said "See you at ten!"

On the way home, and before we fell asleep, all that Kathy and I could talk about was how strange – though fun – the evening was, especially Angela's actions. 

"It's like she had a personality transplant," I laughed at one point. 

"Maybe a mid-life crisis," Kathy giggled in return. 

"What do you think that she wants to talk to you about on Tuesday, Liam?" Kathy asked at one point.

"I really don't know – probably something to do with Jim again," Jim being Angela's oldest son, the one I had bailed out of trouble two years earlier.

"You never did tell me what 'situation' you bailed him out of last time," Kathy said with an expectant smile.

"Nor will I this time either," I said, sweeping her off her feet and carrying her to bed. Unfortunately she was not as sexually charged that evening as I was, and our night didn't end up with my cock in one of her orifices. I embarrassed myself by going into the bathroom and jacking-off after Kathy was asleep. My embarrassment was heightened because I was primarily thinking of Angela while vigorously stroking my cock.

When I arrived at Angela's house Tuesday morning promptly at ten I was greeted by Angela wearing a skimpy nightgown. "I'm so sorry, Liam," she said when answering the door, "I slept late and haven't had a chance to dress. Please forgive me."

"No problem," I replied, trying not to stare at her sculptured bare legs.

After she brought us some tea, and we engaged in some small talk, she once again shocked the shit out of me.

"Say, Liam," she murmured, switching her gaze between my eyes and her exposed thighs as we sat facing each other on living room chairs, "did you notice anything unusual about our vows at the re-commitment ceremony?"

I noticed lots of unusual things, but didn't want to mention any. "I'm not sure, Angela – you know that I'm not the most observant person in the world."

"I believe that," she chuckled. "Well, did you notice that the vows did not include 'forsaking all others?'"

"HOLY SHIT!" caromed around my brain for what seemed like a full minute. I finally regained my composure and said, after trying to clear the nervousness out of my throat, "Uh, well, uh, maybe, uh, yes, now that you mention it I do think that I, uh, noticed that!" I felt my collar get tight.

"Do you know why that wasn't in there?" she asked, rubbing her left foot over her right leg.

"Oh, uh, not really," I squeaked out, sounding like a trapped mouse.

"Because I haven't really had much sex, or enjoyed it like I imagine most people have, the first fifty years of my life. I decided to change that, and since I don't think that I'll ever experience what I'm looking for with William I told him that we change our vows or we split. He's so fucking Catholic he'd never get divorced, so I had him by the balls, so to speak. I still love him in a plutonic way, and want to stay together for the kids even though they are technically adults. But I intend to get fucked regularly and vigorously. Understand?"

"Oh, well, yah, I guess so," I retorted, now in full blown internal meltdown.

"Liam," she said in the most seductive way she had ever spoken in my experience, as she rose and walked over to me, putting her crotch even with my face and gently stroking my cheek, "do you think that you could help me fulfill my need?"

As I stuttered and stammered, she undid the belt of her nightgown and the open front sides parted, giving me a clear view of her pussy. "I've even shaved my cunt for you – do you like it?" she questioned, rhetorically. 

As I could feel sweat pouring down my face I couldn't help but stare at her pussy, and marvel that she had called it a "cunt." As she started moving her crotch even closer to my face I suddenly was jolted back to reality, stood up while gently pushing her away, and said, "Uh, wow, uh, Angela, you're an uber-sexy woman. However, I did have 'forsaking all others' in my marriage vows, and I can't do it to Kathy. God, you have a fantastic looking pussy – I mean, I'm sorry, uh, well, I've got to get out while I can..."

I don't know for sure if I actually said, or just thought, the last sentence. I probably did actually say it, though, because Angela got a wicked smile on her face as I scurried out the door, still switching my gaze between her face and the work of art between her consummate thighs. As I left she called out "Are you sure that your vows contained 'Forsaking all others?' Many civil ceremonies do not."

Fortunately that Tuesday was slow at work, even for a Tuesday, because I sure as hell didn't get anything done. All I could think about was how sexy Angela was and how I would love to shove my tongue, then my cock, up her moist slit!




The Good Girl



I was still horny when I got home, and fucked Kathy on the living room couch with an intensity that was highly unusual. After I came down from my high Kathy frowned when she looked at me – apparently she hadn't enjoyed my attack as much as I had.

"What got into you?" she smirked.

"Can't I just be horny for my lovely wife once in a while?"

"Yeah, but you were more like a bull after a cow in estrus," she said, again with a smirk.

"Uh, sorry," I replied, stroking her breast – then realizing that I hadn't even taken her top off in my zeal to pork her.

We had a very unsatisfying chat, but after she pulled up her panties and walked into the kitchen I closed my eyes and fantasized that I had just fucked Angela.

I couldn't believe that I took Angela's last comment to me seriously, but I got on the Internet and found the phone number of the courthouse where the Justice of the Peace that had married Kathy and me worked. Not surprisingly, when I called the courthouse the Justice who married us was no longer there – he had retired ten years earlier – but there was a new Justice who was happy to talk to me.

"Judge Kern," he said when he got on the line.

"Hi, Judge Kern. This is Liam Williams. My wife and I got married at your Courthouse almost thirty years ago. I can't exactly remember the ceremony, but I have some questions about it?"

"You do, huh?" he laughed. "Well once thing that I can tell you is that it is exactly the same now as it was then for heterosexual couples. We have added two new versions for homosexual couples, however."

"Oh; I see," was my brilliant response. "Is there some way that I could get a copy of the heterosexual couple marriage ceremony?"

"Sure. Just give me your email address," Judge Kern responded.

After I gave him my address I thanked him profusely.

I got the email from the Judge just about an hour later. I read it over carefully three times, not that it was so long or complicated. In fact the only relevant portion of the vows read "I (Groom's name), take you (Bride's name), to be my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forth, to love, honor, and cherish, to comfort and respect, in sorrow or in joy, in hardship or in plenty, as long as we both shall live."

"I'll be damned," I said to myself, then continued "A case could really be made that fucking some other women doesn't violate 'honor,' 'cherish,' or 'respect.' Oh well, I'm still not going to have sex with Angela."

Though resolved not to fuck Angela, I still was turned on by my interaction with her. Kathy was not turned on, though, nor was she happy with my sexual advances every night that week, although she did give in once and seemed to reasonably enjoy it; though apparently not as much as I did. After that week the image in my mind of Angela's bare twat faded a little, and my libido almost returned to normal. "Almost!"

A month passed and I had almost gotten Angela out of my mind when on a Monday I got a call at work. "Mrs. Horton on line 3," my secretary said. I almost told her to tell Mrs. Horton that I was in a meeting – but then a vision of her puffy pussy lips flashed into my mind. "Thanks," I replied, and then pushed the button for line 3.

"Hi, Angela, what a pleasant surprise," I said trying to sound upbeat.

"Thank you for taking my call after the way I behaved the last time that we met," Angela solemnly said. "Can you forgive me?"

"Forgive what?" I replied with a laugh that I hope didn't sound forced.

"Thank you, Liam; you've always been the most gracious of my male friends."

"No problem," was my almost sincere response.

"Liam, I hate to take advantage of your good nature, but – well," then she started to quietly cry.

"What's wrong Angela?" I asked, with real concern in my voice.

"It's Jim again. I know that I – sob, sob – have no right – sniffle, sniffle – to ask for your help, but I have nowhere else to turn. Please – choke, choke, sob, sniffle – help me!"

"Is it the same problem?" I asked.

"No – different, and hopefully not as serious, but I simply can't involve William," she responded, trying to regain her composure.

"What can I do?" I asked.

"Could you please come over tomorrow morning? I promise not to answer the door in my nightgown," she said, completely serious.

"OK – is ten alright?" I inquired.

"Yes, perfect. Thank you Liam, I'll have everything ready when you come," she answered, before hanging up.

I thought her last comment was a little strange – "everything ready" – but I realized that she was under stress.

When I knocked on Angela's door the next day, promptly at ten, part of me hoped that she would answer the door in that skimpy nightie again. She answered it in a business suit, however, and seemed to be all business. "Thank you so much," she gushed, without reaching out to hug me, as she invited me in with her body language.

After some small talk she somberly said, "Well I really need to show you the problem, right away. Can you come with me to Jim's old bedroom?

I wordlessly followed her up the stairs. When we got to what I presumed was Jim's old bedroom she motioned for me to precede her through the doorway. When I looked around the only thing out of the ordinary that I saw were two pairs of handcuffs connected to the headboard, and two more to the footboard, of a sturdy bed. When I started to say something suddenly I was knocked off of my feet by what seemed to be a lightning bolt.

As I lay dazed on the bedroom floor I felt a pin prick in my neck. I woozily got to my feet and saw Angela approach me with a sly smile on her face, and push me backward. I landed on my back on the bed, and tried to get up again but must really have been weak because Angela held me down with just one hand until everything went blank.

When I awoke I saw Angela standing over me, naked, with a syringe in her hand. "I just gave you the wakeup chemical," she said with a smile. "You'll be feeling fine within two minutes."

I looked down at my body, and tried to move my hands and legs. I was naked, except for my socks, and my hands were cuffed to the headboard and my feet to the baseboard, of Jim's bed.

"What are you doing?" I naively asked Angela.

She sat next to me and stroked my head as she purred more than said "I'm sorry, Liam. However, in the last few months sex has become the most important thing in the world to me. Can you imagine, repressed for the first fifty years of my life, and now all I can think about is sex – especially with you."

"Why with me?" I queried. 

"Oh, Liam," she giggled. "All your female friends are hot for you. You're always so open and friendly, and such a good listener. Plus, you have a really nice body, although I didn't know it was quite this nice," she giggled again as she stood up and stroked my chest with one hand and my balls with the other.

"You really shouldn't do this," I said, trying to sound cross.

"I know, Liam; but you're the only one who I approached who wouldn't fuck me, and it wasn't as good with the other four guys as I thought that it would be."

"What other four guys?" I asked, curious and perturbed at the same time.

"I won't tell you their names, because you know three of them. They were just guys who were happy to get their rocks off. I was very pleased that they found me very attractive, and all four wanted to continue fucking me. Do you believe that?"

"Well, you are a beautiful and sexy woman, Angela; but weren't you concerned with STDs?"

"Of course, that's why three of them had to be tested before I'd let them fuck me, and the fourth one seemed like he couldn't wait for that so he had to use a condom," she matter-of-factly replied while now stroking my cock.

Trying as hard as I could to suppress an erection – clearly a losing cause – I said "Well you haven't had me tested."

"I know – only you can get yourself tested. However, I'm absolutely certain that you have been true to Kathy and have no diseases. Plus, the aspect ratio, and head, of your cock are optimum," she replied, the last part while licking her lips and stroking a little more vigorously.

By that time I was almost rock hard, but still trying to resist, so I said "What do you mean? I've never heard the phrase 'aspect ratio' with regard to anything except a television screen."

"Well, I've actually consulted with a sex therapist and read up on the subject. 'Aspect ratio' when it comes to a cock is the ratio of the circumference to the length – and yours is 'just right' for optimum pleasure for your partner. When this is combined with the distinctly mushroom-shaped head, as opposed to a bullet shape, it almost guarantees that Kathy – and soon me – are or will be happy campers!" she chortled.

I think that I protested some more, but can't be sure because as soon as the word "campers" got out of her mouth she shoved my dick into it and started sucking like crazy. I got completely hard quickly, and once my dick was to her liking she mounted me in a very deliberate manner, slowly lowered her tight twat over my upright flagpole, and then started bucking.

For someone who was very likely inexperienced, she rode me exquisitely. She was almost a rodeo champ as she twisted, turned, and pumped her ass up and down. Her pussy was so slick, yet snug, that not just my cock was energized, but every nerve ending in my body. She momentarily stopped her bucking when her first orgasm hit, then continued. When her second orgasm hit it was a monster, causing her to involuntarily contract all of her pussy muscles, and her ample tits to smack together. This quickly put me over the edge and I rocketed what seemed like a liter of cum into her cozy cunt.

By the time that my last cum grenade had detonated in her, Angela had collapsed on my chest, groaning loudly and continuously. My head was spinning. If it wasn't the most physically satisfying – and draining – orgasm I had ever had in my life, it was so close that it didn't make a difference.

I don't know how long we lay together, my cock still up her channel, before we both regained full cognizance, and she lifted herself up to move her pussy off of my deflating cock. She snuggled up to me and we exchanged kisses on the lips. She had lots of questions about my pleasure.

"I hope that you enjoyed yourself," she giggled.

I wasn't going to admit how much I liked it, and wanted to play coy, so I simply said "What do you think?"

"Uh, I-I, uh think that you did like it. It was my best fuck ever!"

"Really?" was my terse reply.

"Did you notice how perfectly your cock fit my cunt?" she purred.

Actually, I had noticed, but I wasn't going to tell her. "I guess," I nonchalantly replied.

After another minute or so of these parries and thrusts, with a straight face I said, "I will admit that it was not as bad being raped as I thought that it would be."

Angela got a serious look on her face. "Uh, I'm sorry. I guess that I did rape you, didn't I?"

"Yes, Angela, you did," I said without anger or disgust. "But you don't have to worry, I won't be reporting it to the police. Who would believe me in any event, huh?"

"Uh, thanks," she murmured.

"Well now that you've had your fun you can thank me by releasing me so that I can go to the can – I need to badly!" I chortled.

"Oh, sure – I'm sorry," she stammered, looking around for the handcuff key, and then quickly unlocking both of my wrists, then both of my ankles.

I rubbed my wrists and ankles for a few seconds as she said "Are they hurt?"

"Not really, I just need a little more circulation in them," I said with a half-smile, then got up and went to the can to pee. While there I looked through the cabinets and found just what I was looking for – a container of petroleum jelly.

When I returned to the bedroom, while hiding the petroleum jelly behind my back I said "I'm impressed that you could get my clothes off and handcuff me by yourself. I don't think that you could have also gotten me onto the bed, so it's lucky that I tried to get up and you pushed me on it."

"That was serendipitous," she snickered, now clearly a little bit nervous about what I would do. "I'm sorry that I Tasered you, and then injected you with a knockout drug, but I assure you that they were safe."

When I looked at her sternly she said "You're not going to report me to the police, are you?"

After a pregnant pause I said "No; but I am going to teach you a lesson."

With that I pushed her down on the bed and quickly handcuffed her wrists to the headboard. If she was trying to resist she didn't do a very good job of it, but I couldn't tell for sure because I am eighty pounds heavier and a lot stronger than she is. I didn't shackle her legs.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, not really scared, but a little outside of her comfort zone.

"Well, first, you're going to suck our combined cums off of my cock, and then we'll find a use for this," I said, holding up the petroleum jelly and then laying it next to her. Kathy had never sucked my cock after intercourse, but I sure wanted Angela to.

I straddled Angela then put my mushroom head to her lips. She willingly took it in and did a good job of removing everything caked on off of it. She did an even better job of getting me hard again. Once I was completely hard I redid her handcuffs so that her arms were crossed, then turned her onto her stomach. Once she was in that position I put two pillows under her stomach to lift her ass in the air and then opened up the jar of petroleum jelly.

When my first lubricated finger touched her pucker hole her entire body spasmed.

"What are you doing?" she wailed.

"You had your fun, now I'm going to have mine," I chuckled. "I haven't fucked an ass since I got married almost thirty years ago, and you have a truly beautiful, symmetrical one, that's calling to me."

"No, please don't, I've never done that before," she whined.

"Well I've never been raped before, and I survived," I coldly said. "It's gonna happen so you might as well try to enjoy it."

Angela continued to moan and protest as I lathered up her anus then stuck first one lubricated finger, then a second, and then a third, into her hole, and gently swirled them around. Her moans of protest changed to moans of pleasure after my three fingers had been exploring for about a minute. About a minute after that I lubricated my cock – which was still rock hard in part due to the excellent visual stimulus that her magnificent thighs and inviting pucker hole provided – and slowly inserted it into her anus.

Angela was warmed up enough that I doubt that she experienced any pain as I carefully buried myself completely. Once I started slowly stroking in and out I'm sure that she was enjoying it, and when between moans she started pleading "Oh, God, please fuck me harder, pound my fucking ass..." she obviously loved it. I pounded her hard until I blew my wad. She clearly had a minor orgasm as my man cream scrubbed her intestine walls, and once I withdrew she was almost incoherent and babbling stuff like "Holy shit that felt good!"

After I lay next to Angela until I was sure that we both had recovered I unlocked her cuffs, swept her off the bed, and carried her to the shower in the master bedroom. We fondled and kissed as we cleaned each other up. Once we dressed I held her hands while staring down into her eyes while standing in her vestibule. 

"Although I was completely unwilling to admit it before, fucking you today gave me the most physical satisfaction that I can remember. I hope that you want to keep fucking me, because I have every intention of pursuing you. I didn't get a chance today to eat out that magnificent cunt of yours, but you can be sure that I'll be tonguing, fingering, and sucking it next time," I said as I alternately squeezed and released her hands. "Plus your tits are the perfect size and firmness for a titty fuck, and that's gonna happen too!"

"What about Kathy?" she said with a wicked smile.

"I have every intention of honoring, loving, comforting, and respecting her. But you were right – my wedding vows did not say 'forsaking all others,' and, anyway, you're too fantastic of a piece of ass to pass up."

"I can't believe it," she giggled. "A year ago I would have been so insulted if you called me a 'fantastic piece of ass,' and now I am thrilled and overjoyed."

Angela got on her tip toes and passionately kissed me as I moved my hands from hers to one tit and one ass cheek. "When do we swap fluids again?" she asked; "you know that I'm not going to be fucking anyone else besides you unless William gets off his 'sex only for procreation' soapbox."

"And I'll only be fucking you and Angela," I replied. "How about Thursday morning, the same time and place?" 

"I'll fuck your brains out," she fake sneered, then gave me one more kiss before I exited.

My initial sexual interaction with Angela was about a year ago. With only minor exceptions we have had sex, of all types, at least twice a week since then. It seems to get better every time, especially if I eat her to two or three orgasms before doggy or wheelbarrow fucking her. We even got to spend one entire weekend together, during which I set my all-time record by busting my nut six times in two days and two nights, while giving Angela more orgasms than she had in her entire life before her "re-commitment" ceremony.

Getting all the physical sexual satisfaction I need from Angela, I don't have to "over-demand" with Kathy anymore. She is as happy as a pig in poop to have vanilla sex every seven to ten days, and to have me love, honor, respect, and cherish her at all times. Our relationship is better than ever.

I'm still not sure what caused Angela to change from a prude to a sex goddess, but instead of looking a gift horse in the mouth, I'll be shoving my cock into hers.



The Good Girl



My name is Tim and I have my ideal life. I work hard five days a week and spend time at home with the girl of my dreams. Before I started my new life with her I already had two great kids that I was proud of, but she gave me even more. My first wife passed away a few years ago, and it devastated me. It took me a long time to recover but I learned to look at all the good parts of life. My son was close to graduating college and my daughter was still in high school. I had gotten a raise at work, and combined with my wife's life insurance, I and was fortunate enough to support my kids and make my family comfortable. They still had part time jobs even though they didn't need to, which made me proud. I grew up in a much lower tax bracket than I'm in now and I am glad I was able to raise kids that don't act spoiled. 

If you asked me a year ago to guess how things would eventually turn out, I never would have thought I'd be lucky enough to start a new family with the most perfect bride a man could ever ask for.

It was a good day. I had a normal day at work and as I walked through the door, my love was waiting for me just like she should be, on her knees with an open mouth, short skirt, and a thirst for my sperm. After her daily snack, as she sometimes called her essential daily routine when talking to her unknowing friends, I snacked on her, then we had a good dinner and relaxed in the family room. I decided to continue where I left off in my most recently acquired fantasy novel and she grabbed her handheld video game and threw herself on the sofa. As I was reading I heard a rhythmic noise coming from the floor above. I knew what it was because I heard it all the time nowadays. It was my son Luke's bed shaking around because he was fucking his slut Jessica again. I say slut with respect. She doesn't sleep around, she's just a slut for his cock, like a good girl should be. I was proud of Luke for picking out a girl like Jessica.

Luke and Jessica go to the same college but she moved here from a few states away. She has been around the house a lot lately, saying that the place reminds her of her old home where her father and sister live. She also mentioned multiple times that her father and I have a lot in common. I'm sure that more than once she's gotten an eyeful of my lovely angel and I being intimate because I take her whenever I get the urge. Wherever, whenever, and however I want, because it's my house and she's my woman. If anybody else in this house doesn't want to see our expression of love they don't have to stay in the room. This all only made Jessica feel more at home.

The first time I met Jessica she had come in through the back door looking for my son, and I had my sweetheart bent over the kitchen counter with her skirt flipped up over her ass as I fondled it. Jessica was a little shocked at first, but Luke had told her what life was like in my house and she learned to adapt quickly. She apologized for interrupting but I told her that was nonsense. I asked her to take a seat at the kitchen table and I took a seat myself. The ass I own backed up to me and bounced on my lap while the conversation continued. I held the waist of the body I owned and held her still at times to signal my love to slow down so I wouldn't be rude and cum in the middle of a conversation with my son's girlfriend. The pussy that I claimed as mine, by filling it with my seed multiple times a day, bounced up and down while we had a good talk. My son had dated girls before but I had a feeling this one might be a keeper. I had just notified Jessica of the house rule to wear a skirt, as I noticed she wasn't at the time, and that she had better remember to do so in the future. She apologized for not knowing and promised she would. At that point my son came in the house and she ran over to him, whispered something in his ear, and they both ran upstairs. I had a good feeling about her. She seemed to have good and proper values.

I was jerked back to the present and out of my reminiscing when my daughter Trisha mentioned the racket above us as well. "Wow, Daddy, they're at it again, aren't they?"

I looked over at her on the couch, facing away from me while lying on her stomach 

and playing a video game. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back and over a skimpy light blue top matched with a scandalously short blue plaid skirt.

"Yes hon, just try to ignore them."

I looked over my daughter's legs, past her impressive calves and thighs, all the way up to her sweet spot which was barely covered by the shadow of her skirt. Her breasts were a delicious handful, tightly pressed through her practically threadbare top into the couch cushions. When she dressed like that she left little to the imagination. She has always dressed "comfortably" like this around the house, and I'd never dream of complaining about it. She knew I enjoyed her outfits. Girls who live under this roof dress however Daddy wants them to.

My gaze was taken back down her body, where I could see my daughter's pussy peek out as her legs opened slightly. I was caught; she had spotted me peeking from a reflection off of a mirror on the wall.

My cock was getting hard.

Trisha kept at her game and said, "He's going to get her pregnant you know."

"Really?" I replied, already aware of that fact.

"Yeah, he said he was going to. She's not on the pill and he stopped buying condoms. This isn't even the first time they've been at it today. She isn't even leaving the bedroom unless she really needs to. Between sessions she just lies back on the bed with a pillow under her ass to let it soak in. I walked by earlier and the room just reeked of sex, and I saw her swollen pussy with cream oozing out."

My cock twitched a little more.

Trisha pouted a little while saying, "He wasn't doing that yesterday, he must have learned that trick last night. Now he'll get her knocked up fast for sure! You gave him advice, didn't you?"

I wasn't going to lie to my little girl. I already knew what they were planning before my daughter mentioned anything. They had come to me earlier to make sure that I was OK with it. Nothing happens in this house without my permission. My son's slut was a sexy thing, and he needed to claim that body as his as soon as possible. I admit, I wanted to see her with a swelling belly. So did my son, of course. He must have picked up some kinks from his old man. My son would be out of college soon and wanted to get a head start on his own ideal family, and they didn't have anywhere else they felt comfortable conceiving a child. I had no reason to prevent them from going at it like minks, especially with my thoughts and actions involving my own daughter.

"Well that's their business, then," I said.

Trisha turned her head towards me and we locked eyes, displaying to me a spot of dried cum on her cheek leftover from her earlier snack and said, "But Daddy, he could be doing it RIGHT NOW. It's just the right time for her!"

My daughter then turned her head back to her game and widened her legs just a little bit more. I saw a drop of wetness emerge from her delicate folds.

In a lower voice, sounding almost disappointed, she said, "For me too... and you promised I'd get a baby bump before graduation..."

Her voice picked up to it's previous volume and said, "Besides, I don't think I could stand it if he beat me."

My daughter's legs were even further apart now.

Putting my book down, I said, "I didn't know this was a competition, but I can't disappoint my angel and let your brother get away with that. He might be trying to start a family with his little slut, but my little slut deserves to be taken care of properly and get what she deserves."

My daughter jumped up from the couch and jumped on my lap.

"Oh Daddy, thank you, it will mean so much for me to win! We just have to beat them! And with your baby in me, we'll be as linked as two people can be, forever and ever! I can't wait to be walking around the halls at school with my own daddy's baby growing in me!"

She was directly facing me, her legs on each side of mine, with her supple ass writhing around in excitement, as she leaned in to kiss me. My heart melted as I breathed in her scents, and my cock was straining hard against my pants in an outline that always made my daughter drool as she sank between my legs for my daily stress relief. She always took my cum deep inside her, one way or another. At least once a day, though, I needed her looking up at me with her brown eyes with a mouthful of her favorite toy. Every day I had the privilege of seeing the most gorgeous, heart-melting sight a man could see. This time, though, the cum building up was destined to plant a seed in the sexiest, most delicious, sweetest girl in the world.

Breaking off the soul-kiss, I said, "Let's get up there and show them how it's really done."

My daughter was up in a heartbeat, grabbing my hand and practically dragging me upstairs to her bedroom. She didn't sleep in it anymore, but she kept it furnished for appearances. She told me she liked the smell of the place that we first consummated our deep love for each other. Once we were inside she slipped off her top and I started a trail of my own clothes as I went towards her bed. Her room was right next to her brother's, sharing a wall. The squeaks and bumps were louder now, and they had been joined by audible moans and grunts, easily audible through the wall.

By the time I slipped off my boxers my daughter was on her bed face down, ass up. She knew how to entice me. Her short skirt was still on and she wiggled her luscious ass and delicious pussy lips as they peeked out from underneath.

My cock was as erect and thick as ever when I got on her bed behind her looking down at what was mine. The sex show going on in the next room was helping to set the mood, but knowing that this sweet body was mine and mine alone, whenever I wanted it, was enough to get me hard. I licked a couple fingers and reached down to feel my daughter's folds and found that she was practically gushing. I swiped my cock a few times across her pussy to get lubricated and then started to slide into the tight hole that my daughter gave me on her 18th birthday, not long ago, after teasing and seducing me long before that. Not even out of high school yet, and she regularly got what every good girl deserves, a pussy full of rock-hard daddycock. I swelled with pride when I thought of how I raised such a good girl.

"Ohhhh Daddy," Trisha moaned, "you're so big today! Oh give it to me, put it all inside!"

The action from the other side of the wall started to speed up and the wall started to shake. A picture hanging on the wall became a little crooked. My son must be on his final stretch. 

"I'm going to fill you full of babies," I growled as I slid in and out of my own daughter. "Your own brother or sister will be growing inside you, making your belly get bigger. All because of me."

I made sure that I said it all loud enough that the occupants of the bed next door would know what was happening. I chose what happened to the pussies in this household. I allowed what was happening only a few feet away through a thin layer of drywall. I also raised a good, sexy, faithful, obedient daughter. A perfect daughter. I'd never do anything to hurt her but she's always been daddy's girl. She knew her place in the world, and that involved letting me fill her with cum wherever, whenever, and however I wanted. She loved it. If I wanted to impregnate my daughter, I was going to, and she not only accepted it, she loved the idea. I didn't even have to convince her of it, she's the one who brought up the idea in the first place. She read my mind.

"Fill me with your baby-juice," Trisha yelled, getting into it. "Make me yours forever. Put a baby in me and make me yours forever!"

I had to slow down as she tightened up when she screamed those words as I didn't want to release yet. I held on to her ass, which was mine, and strengthened my grip. We heard a female moan from next door followed shortly by a male groan. The wall stopped shaking.

Now it was my turn to make that wall shake.

I withdrew my cock almost all the way out of my daughter, and my daughter moaned lightly knowing what was going to happen next. Then I pushed in, withdrew, and repeated, over and over, as I said loudly, one thrust per word, "Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine! This sexy body is mine and nobody else can touch it!"

My daughter's cream started to build up in a thick froth on my cock. She knew who owned her body and loved it. Her moans were like music to my ears.

I kept thrusting, noticing the picture on the wall was even more crooked now.

"Yes Daddy, give it to me, fill me up," my sweet, adorable, love of my life moaned to me.

"Your belly is going to puff up, all because of me. Your tight skirts are going to look so obscene on you, all because of me. I'll have a permanent grin on my face as I walk around with my arm around your obscene body with your swollen tummy, and anyone who sees will know I did that. They will know your body is mine. I'll suck milk from your breasts as they swell up. For the rest of our lives, whenever I look at you, I'll think, 'I own her completely.'"

My daughter moaned loudly with her pussy squeezing down on me. "Oh Daddy I'm yours! I'm yours forever! Ohhhhh! Only you! I'm only yours! I'm your slut! I'm your toy!"

After she stopped with her orgasm, I stopped and pulled out, then flipped her over.

"You are more than that to me, Trisha." I looked into her eyes and held her gaze. "You are my little angel. You are the girl who gives me purpose. You are the brightest part of my life. Ever since you were born I've only loved you more every day."

My daughter smiled, with a tear forming in one eye, "Oh Daddy I know, you are mine and I am yours. You make me so happy!" With that she widened her legs and held out her arms. I got between her and started sliding back into that pussy that I made and that I owned.

I lowered myself onto Trisha, pressing our chests together, as I entered her with my throbbing daddycock. She wrapped her legs around me and hugged me tightly as I leaned down, fully inserted, and we kissed. We felt connected more and more each second of every day.

My daughter broke the kiss and whispered, "I've got some great outfits picked out as my stomach gets bigger and bigger. You'll love them." My daughter knew how to turn me on. "Let's get started with the rest of our lives. Put that incestuous seed inside me, and knock me up with my own sibling. Make me yours forever. Mark me as yours, you incestuous, daughter-fucking pervert! 

I growled through my teeth, "You've always wanted a little sister and now I'll fuck one into you! You're own sister-daughter!"

Trisha moaned out, "Oh, oh, yes, fuck me Daddy! Fuck your good little girl! Fuck that baby into me! Fill me with enough of your cum to keep me pregnant for the next ten years! Oh yes! YES!"

I sped up, with my hips swinging, my cock gliding in and out of the pussy that belonged to the girl that I loved more than anything. My girl. Mine. 

The bedsprings creaked more than ever before, the bedposts slammed the wall and denting it, and finally the picture fell off the wall and crashed onto the floor. No matter what, though, I wouldn't stop until I put a child in my daughter. With my kid inside her, she would be marked as mine forever. Mine and mine alone. No other man could or would ever touch this body.

I couldn't hold out much longer when my daughter moaned more, and used her legs to squeeze me closer to her. My daughter's tight pussy and gyrating hips as she convulsed under me put me near the edge.

It was getting difficult to keep control. I tried to think of other things to keep going longer, to make my daughter cum over and over again, but fantasies of her kept creeping into my head. Thoughts of my daughter Trisha's belly swelling up. 

I thought of walking around in public grinning like an idiot with my arm around her, obviously proud of what I did and causing jealousy in every other man that they weren't the ones who did it. 

Another thought popped in, this time of us sitting on the couch with her on my lap and her bulging belly stretching out her skirt. My arms wrap around her, feeling her tummy as I make jokes about watermelons.

Finally I thought of her with a big belly and lactating breasts, her long, silken, dark hair in a mess, wearing a perverted outfit. She was wearing a schoolgirl outfit, with her button-up shirt in a mess with missing buttons as her generous features strain against it. Her skirt had streaks of cum, and she was wearing panties that said "Daddy's Cock Only" right over her pussy that had been pulled aside, allowing my cum to run down her leg making an obscene streak down her thigh. Her fingers scooped up my cum as it gushed out of her, took it up to her mouth where her tongue hungrily danced around them and licked it up as she said, "Daddy give me more of your cum! It's so tasty and I need more of it inside me! It's good for the baby, too. Look how big it made me! Make me even bigger, Daddy!"

I couldn't take it anymore, all these fantasies pushed me far over the edge, causing me to cum more than I had ever cum in my life. I let go inside her, giving her all I had, bellowing out. Pulse after pulse of life-making seed was being pumped into my own offspring.

Anybody within earshot would know that I was fucking and impregnating my own daughter, and that turned me on immensely.

We kissed and caressed each other as we laid there in the afterglow. I held her face in my hand as I pressed my forehead into hers and said, "I promise you, we will start a new family filled with love and happiness."

Trisha's face lit up as she blushed, and we kissed and fondled each other as we connected our souls.

I keep my promises. Our daughter Michelle, the first of our children and who had just been conceived, would agree.



The Good Girl



She always considered herself the good girl. She had been married to the same man for ten years. Never slept around and was never bad in anyway. She loved her husband and he provided well for her. But he was never a very sexual person and by the time she found that out, she just figured she might as well stay in the marriage.

Annie and her husband Marcus were one couple in a wide circle of couples all in there 30s and 40s. The couples had been married anywhere from newlywed to almost 2 decades. Some went to the theatre together, dinner, and all sorts of activities including bowling. The men usually talked shop while the women gossiped together. It was a nice circle of friends, which included about 12 or 13 other couples.

Annie was one of the younger women at 30 years old. She had never really noticed any of the other men in their circle until the other night. She stepped out of her terry cloth robe and sank into the luscious feel of soapy bubble bath.

The other night had been a night of dinner, theater and after dinner drinks and coffee. Annie had been sitting with the women after the theater and sipping her coffee. It had been about 6 couples and the women had been chatting about the sale at Macy's and the new diet everyone was trying. She had raised her glass to take another sip when she had noticed him. She wasn't sure exactly who he was but she remembered vaguely that he was Annette's husband. He had those smoldering dark eyes that she loved and those sensuous lips. He was watching her and must have been for some time because George sitting next to him had to pull him back into the conversation.

Annie's soapy hands traced down her breasts and dipped between her legs. She could feel her pussy begging to be used. She thought of him between her legs. She moaned.

She found out later his name was Jacob. A writer in the Chicago area. She had never noticed him. His wife had been good friends with another couple and had been asked to join their little soiree. His wife was attractive, slim and elegant and Annie found herself jealous that she had him every night.

She slipped her finger inside herself and found it so tight and wet. God, she wanted a fuck. Just a quick fuck. She rested her head on the edge of the bathtub and continued her assault on her little pussy until she came. She sighed quietly.

The next weekend the couples met at a Chinese Restaurant. Annie dressed with care. She wore a black mini skirt and pink sweater with high heels. Marcus was deep in conversation with George when Annie saw Jacob and his wife enter the restaurant. They immediately parted as Annette walked toward the group and Jacob disappeared down the long hall toward the restroom.

Annie excused herself to the restroom also. There was a long hall from the front dining area to the restroom. The hall was dimly lit and one broom closet alcove was almost invisible from the hallway. She hid inside the little alcove to wait. She heard him exit the bathroom and walk slowly down the hallway.

"Damn." He swore to himself. He hated going back out there. The little couple group was so annoying. Annette had thought it would be fun and so it had been the first few weeks. But then the little blonde with the curvy body and green eyes had started showing up. She and her husband came irregularly and so hadn't come the first few weeks they had. She looked like a yummy little piece and he ached wanting her. His wife for all that he loved her, was not very sexual and his sex drive just kept climbing. He had watched her the other night and loved the way the blonde crossed and uncrossed her legs. So slow and seductive. Did she do it on purpose? Couldn't be. And when she swallowed her coffee, her neck muscles contracted - he thought of her lips all over him.

Another night of this, god, he groaned inwardly. He started walking toward the dining area and suddenly was pulled into a small niche in the hallway.

Was he dreaming? It was her!

"I'm not really good with subtlety." She whispered into his ear.

He looked over her body slowly. That pink sweater so soft and alluring clinging to her breasts and the black skirt covering her feminine hips.

"What are you good at?" He almost grinned in the dark as he whispered to her.

"Do you want to find out? Or do you want to just fawn over me?" She deliberately pressed her body into his masculine one.

His hands couldn't stop themselves. He spun her around and pushed her body into the wall. His hands slid down her neck and then moved in front of her. His hands moved over her body and underneath the soft pink fabric. He groaned aloud. She wasn't wearing a bra and her small nipples were erect and begging him to taste them.

"Oh god." His mouth dipped to her neck and teased her earlobe. She was so soft and feminine.

She arched into him like a little kitty trying to get him to touch and tease where she wanted him. She moved his one hand to the hem of her skirt and arched her ass into his hard cock. He took the hint and edged it up. Her little pussy lips were wet and inviting – no panties of course as he slipped his finger inside her.

He almost chuckled. "Your just a little bitch in heat."

"I am." She groaned and pushed her ass against him again.

"You just want a quick fuck is that it?" He whispered into her ear. His finger continued tormenting her little cunt as his other hand tugged on her left nipple.

She shivered. Those same words she had told herself. And she did. Just a dirty, quick fuck in a hallway no less. Just a hard cock inside her.

"Yes," she moaned. She moved her head to the side as he lips kissed hers.

"Oh god." He must be lost in some pornographic dream that made him feel this good. It was awesome.

He pinned her tightly against the wall and she pushed her skirt all the way up exposing her ass to him. He undid his button and zipper and his cock was throbbing to be inside her. He moved her hips forward and thrust his cock inside her tight hole.

He used her hips to move slowly inside her and then to bang away. He could hear the slapping of his hips against her ass and loved stretching her pussy to the hilt.

"You're a sweet little bitch in heat." He ground out as she moaned. He was so filling and she loved being in the submissive position as he used her.

His hands came suddenly to her breasts and he used them to anchor her to his hard cock. She pushed her hands against the wall and moved her ass up and down as he set the rhythm.

She looked so incredibly sexy standing there with her high heels, ass exposed and blonde hair shimmering to the side of her.

His hands moved up and he grasped her long blonde hair in his hand. He used her like a dirty whore and wrapped the hair around his hand as his other hand spanked her tight ass. It jerked her head up sharply as his cock continued to slide in and out of her tight cunt.

"Oh yes, Jacob harder, fuck me harder." She murmured to him.

He smiled in the dark. She was a hot little piece. She just begged to be fucked.

"Beg me Annie. You know you want my cock banging your little pussy."

"I do. Please I do." She begged him.

"Good girl." He told her.

His hands moved away from her hair and dipped down to her slim waist and then back to her hips. His one finger dipped suddenly into her little rosebud hole.

"Oh god," she cried as he continued to pump inside her. Her little rosebud hole was tiny and he knew she had never been used there. Once his finger continued its assault she began to cum quietly.

"Cum for me." He whispered to her.

Her pussy was like a greedy little girl that milked his cock as his cum poured into her. His cock poured its milk inside her as he groaned to orgasm. 

He released her hips and she straightened her clothes. Her legs were wobbly but she felt amazing.

"Wait a minute or two and then follow." She told him, smiling.

He watched her walk down the hall in amazement still admiring her ass. 



The Good Girl



After having to kick my last two roommates out, it was really the only decision I could make. Sure I had a great time drinking and girl chasing with my former two roommates, but in the end, the rent has to get paid. Chris was maybe a little too uptight, too conservative. He was just a straight arrow kind of guy. But I knew, without a doubt, he would pay his share of the rent and that's all I cared about. 

One of the other benefits of having Chris around was that he came with a girlfriend that was pretty, personable and helped clean up around the apartment. She would even cook meals. Bonnie was as conservative as Chris, the blond hair pulled back, prim, proper kind of girl, and genuinely nice to have around. She would wear flattering clothes, wool skirts, button up sweaters, always stockings, but nothing ever revealing. They were such straight arrows that when Bonnie slept over, either she or Chris was on the couch.

Chris had been living with me for about three weeks and I casually asked him about it. He answered with, "Well what do you mean, we're not married yet." It was like I had asked him why he breathed. I dropped it. 

Working freelance meant that I kept an irregular schedule, which I'm sure drove Chris nuts. I would often wake up after Chris had gone to work early, as usual. Bonnie would be getting ready for her classes at the graduate school she was attending. She was usually in the shower and I would have to wait until she was done to get in the bathroom. 

One morning I woke up, she was in the shower, and I had to pee, badly. I tied to wait her out, but I got to the point of not being able to.

I knocked politely on the bathroom door, "Um, Bonnie. Bonnie."

"What, whose that?" she said in a startled voice.

"Um, so how much longer you, ah, going to be." 

"Oh, sorry, you scared me a bit. Well I just put soap in my hair. I'm sorry. I'm in your way aren't I?"

"Well, I just have to pee. I don't mean to rush you, but..."

"Oh, um, well just come in. It's fine."

"Really, you sure?" I said stunned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it."

I pushed open the door and headed straight for the toilet to pee. 

"Thanks. Really. I'm not sure if I would have made it."

She giggled. "Don't worry about it. Just don't say anything to Chris, he'd have a bird." 

"You got it."

The bathroom was your usual small city bathroom. The bathtub was old and it took two shower curtains to cover all the sides. The curtains were installed non-to expertly by myself. 

It was a relief to finally be peeing. I was a little embarrassed for Bonnie. I finished, put myself away and swung around to wash my hands at the sink. As I did I noticed three inch opening between the two shower curtains. I also noticed Bonnie turning in the shower to face the shower head. I got a quick peek at her cute little ass. It must have been all but a second of peeking. I finished washing and couldn't help but take another quick peek and headed out the door.

"Thanks again Bonnie." And I smiled to myself. "You're a life saver."

"No problem, my pleasure." And she paused. "But make sure you..."

"Don't tell Chris." I finished.

And she laughed and I headed out the door. And as I did it kind of dawned on me. If I saw her through that little opening, was she watching me? Nah, not Bonnie. And I went through the door, with my little fantasy in my head. 

I was making coffee in the kitchen, and Bonnie stuck her head in. 

"See ya, and, um, I really try not to be in the way here, so, if you have to pee when I'm in the shower, um, just come in. Ok?" and I could see her cheeks start getting flush. 

"Your no bother around here, really Bonnie. If anything you're a great help. And thanks, I will."

And I thought I saw her trying to repress a smile as she popped her head from the doorway. And I kind of stood there dumbfounded. Maybe she actually was watching. And was she aware of my peeping? I really couldn't see it. It had to be my dirty little mind working overtime. 

Over the course of the next few days, nothing else was said. We had talked a few times, but I was busy and Bonnie and Chris were in and out the apartment living their straight arrow lives. 

One morning I woke up and heard the shower running and decided to see what would happen. I checked to make sure Chris wasn't around, even though it was 9:30, and I knew he had been gone for hours.

I knocked on the bathroom door. "Hey Bonnie."

"Hi." She said in her usual bright voice. "Need to pee?" She giggled.

'Yeah, is it ok if I come in?"

"Of course."

I walked in and thanked her. And went about my business with the idea in my head that she was watching. Which of course lead to my to my cock growing bit, thus making me take a little longer to finish peeing. I did what I thought was my part and took a little peek through the opening in the curtains. She again was turning and I saw what I thought was a tattoo on her back, about 3/4 down her spine. On my way out I confirmed it with another quick peek. Maybe there was more to this girl than I knew.

"Thanks Bonnie." I said on my way out.

"Sure, and you can stop thanking me." 

"Ok, ok, I will."

We both laughed as I headed out the door.

It worked out that her shower schedule coincided with my waking three days that week. The second day I made sure I moved little more to the side so she would have a better view if she was looking and my eyes lingered a little longer when I peeked inside the shower. I couldn't get a full view through the opening, but I made sure to get a longer look at her perfect back, cute ass and legs. I wasn't sure how long this little game would last, but I wanted to take advantage of it while it lasted. 

By the third day, Friday, I noticed on my way in that the little opening had gotten bigger and my cock got immediately hard when I walked in. I stood there off to the side, holding it for what seemed like forever waiting for the piss to work its way through my hard cock. Finally it began to stream and at first I had hard time making it into the toilet. After what seemed to take an eternity, I finished and took my requisite glance into the shower. Bonnie was rinsing her hair under the spray and I stood there peering at her beautiful body stretched out before me. She had a big grin on her face as she moved her hand through her hair. My eyes moved down her body to her breasts, stomach and to her little patch of blonde pubic hair. It was probably five seconds, but it seemed like hours. I quickly washed my hands and stole another quick look. 

"Hey see ya." Was all I could come up with as I left.

"Yeah, you bet." And I imagined her smiling at how flustered she made me.

Was she really doing this? Hell was I? I thought as walked to my room. Was I really displaying myself for her, and she for me? It was going to be a long weekend. 

As usual nothing was said either that day or the next two. The three of us had dinner on Sunday together and I couldn't help but keep picturing Bonnie naked as we ate. I wasn't even sure if Chris had seen her naked yet. I excused myself after dinner to go down to the local bar for a drink. It was getting a little uncomfortable in the apartment.

Bonnie had gone to her apartment on Sunday night and I got home late on Monday night and couldn't be sure if there was someone on the couch. But I woke to the sound of a shower Tuesday morning. I jumped out of bed and didn't bother to put anything on over my boxer shorts. 

I knocked on the door wondering if out game was still being played. "Hey Bonnie, mind if I..."

"Come on in!" she almost sang.

"How are things morning?" I asked while walking in.

"Umm just fine, thanks." 

I had been hard since my feet hit the floor and I was fully erect while I stood at the toilet waiting to the piss to start. I heard the little rings on the curtain move and could feel Bonnie's eyes on me. After struggling to pee while I was hard and not make too much of a mess, I had to take a peek to my side. There was Bonnie standing in the tub watching me. She just stood there and smiled, watching as the piss flowed into the toilet until the last drops seeped out.

"Why don't you put the lid down, sit and talk to me while I finish up." She said to break the silence. "No, don't put it away. Just sit there." 

Bonnie pushed open the curtains. She leaned over and grabbed the soap off the shelf and began to rub the bar across her chest and down her stomach. 

"You can stroke it while you watch me if you if you want." 

She put the soap down and continued to spread the soap over her body with her hands, stopping to pull gently on her breasts. I just sat there and stroked my cock. She toyed with her cunt, sliding her fingers down through her folds, then back up her stomach. I was stunned and hot. She moved to the edge of the tub and turned so I could watch her soap her ass. She was about a foot from me now. She turned back to face me and bent slightly, and offered the palms of her hands.

"When you cum, just cum in my hands." And she made a little cup shape. "Go ahead, look at me so you cum. Right here."

I stood and stroked faster. I erupted into her hands. She cupped my cock so nothing would leak out and waited for me to stop. 

"It's been so long since I felt this." And she brought her hands up to her nose. "It smells so good." 

She seemed completely lost in the moment, like I wasn't sitting a foot away. Then she looked right at me with a lusty smile and rubbed my cum all over her tits and stomach. She moved it all over with the palms of her hands like she was soaping up, getting clean. I wanted to touch her, but I knew that wasn't part of the game. 

"Thank you." She said and she began to blush a bit and closed the curtains. 

"No, thank you Bonnie." And I left. 

I sat in my room trying to think of what to say to her when she came out. I heard the door open. Then he front door open and close. She must have had her clothes with her. Chris was leaving for a business trip that night. I wasn't sure when I'd see Bonnie again.

- 

That night I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard a key in the front door and saw it swing open. 

"Hi, I was bored and I thought I'd come over." Bonnie said as she closed the door behind her.

"Did Chris go on his trip?"

"Yeah, but what the hell else am I going to do tonight. And Bonnie pulled a six pack from the bag she was carrying. I think it was the first time I heard her utter anything that could be called a swear. "I brought some beer, been a while since I had one. Here you go." And she handed me a bottle.

"Thanks." I sputtered and took a long swig.

She was wearing her usual grad school attire. White button down shirt, red skirt about half way down her thighs, white stockings. The only difference was her shiny red, pointy toed shoes with an open back. And a heel. A thin three-inch heel. Bonnie never wore a heel. She said they weren't proper.

"Sorry ran out of here the other day." She pulled back almost half the beer and she sat on the chair next to the couch. " I guess I got a little, ya know, nervous."

"Really, why?" I said with a large grin on my face.

She laughed, and it seemed break the tension in the room. She finished her first beer and opened a second for both of us.

"I guess I have a little explaining to do." 

I sat on the couch next to the chair she was in. 

"Well, it was only a few years a go, and I was pretty wild. I had just gotten out of college, barely, and was living from friend's apartment to friend's apartment. I was just one party after another, taking way to many drugs, having a lot of sex, drinking and, did I mention having a lot of sex? It was crazy, sometimes kinky, it kind of just opened me up." 

She paused to take a swig of her beer. I was hoping my jaw hadn't fallen open too much.

"It was really getting dangerous. The drugs were really out of control. And then right as I hit rock bottom, I found Chris, who, as you know, is the most conservative guy in the world. But he kind of saved me."

I drank my beer. She drank hers. She looked right at me and her eyes were all fiery.

"That was more than two years ago. I got cleaned up. Chris was amazing and patient, and we had this wonderful relationship. No sex. Nothing." And she seemed rather pleased with her self. "I was going to a therapist at the time, Chris didn't know. Never would have liked that. Thought they were a waste of money. But she said I probably shouldn't go cold turkey like that." 

"But..." I said.

"Well it was just too good then. I felt too, I don't know, nice." She finished her second beer and began to open a third for us.

I wasn't sure why she was telling me this. Was she trying to apologize for everything. Maybe telling me to forget the whole thing, because she is really a nice girl. She handed me another beer.

"Um, thanks. Before you go on, I have to use the..."

"Hang on, let me finish my story." She smiled. "Well, lately I've been feeling the need to be a little wild, like part of my old self peeking through. When you knocked on that door, it began to rush back. You like my new shoes?" and she stood up to model them. 

"Actually I really do Bonnie. I just thought you'd wouldn't wear...so why is it your telling me all this? Although it does explain the tattoo on your back."

She put her hands on her hips and scolded me, "So you were watching! And I thought I could trust you!" 

And she had me until she fell out laughing.

"Finish your beer like a good boy."

I drank the last of the bottle and she did the same.

"Now come with me." And she led me to the bathroom. She pushed the shower curtains back out of the way and stepped in the tub. She turned around, put her hands on the wall and bent over slightly. "Unfasten my skirt."

I guess she wasn't apologizing. I unbuttoned the top button and pulled down the zipper. She turned around and let the skirt fall the bottom of the tub and kicked it to side. She was wearing thigh high white stockings and she pulled up the bottom of her shirt so I could see her white silk panties. 

"I loved watching you piss. Your turn now." 

A dark wet spot began to form on the front of the white panties as her piss started to stream out the sides and through the silk. Large dark patches formed on her stockings as they became wet and I watched the pee trickle over her shoes. She was rubbing her hand over the outside of the panties, letting the wetness flow over it. She pulled aside her panties to show me her piss flowing out of her cunt and looked up at me. 

"You like watching me wet myself? I've been dreaming about showing you." And a finger slipped into her cunt as piss slowed to a trickle.

She slipped down to the bottom of the tub, with one foot under her and one perched on the side of the side. Her panties still pulled to one side, a finger rubbing the outside of her cunt. 

"Take out your cock. I bet you have to pee real bad after those three beers. No, no...stand right there. I told you kinky right? Jut hold that hard cock until you piss." And she sat there waiting for it, her eyes on my cock.

It took a little while but the piss began to flow. It hit her in the chest and within seconds the front of her shirt was soaked, the brown of her areola and nipples showing through the now sheer material. I pointed the stream at her cunt while her finger moved furiously in and out. She came almost immediately with a scream. She moved her leg down after she peaked and dove her head under the now waning stream, wetting her hair, piss dripping down her face. She wiped her face with her hand. A few drops leaked out of my prick as her mouth opened to take it in. Her head moved back and forth on my cock as she pulled open her shirt and pulled down her soaked bra. 

"You are so fucking great...uuugh, I'm..." and she pulled her mouth off my cock and began to pump it with her hands until I came. 

She pumped the cum over her chest and caught the last few spurts in her mouth. 

"I hope that wasn't too wild." she said kneeling in front of still stroking my twitching prick. 

"No, I think that was just right." I said, not quite sure what to make of all this. 

"Gooood." She said with a big grin. "I didn't want to scare you. I'm really a mess." She said as she leaned back against the tub surveying her body. "You like seeing your cum on my tits?"

I like seeing my everything on your tits." And I reached down to touch them, but she slapped my hand away. 

"Go away now, let me get cleaned up." And she stood up, slipped her shoes off and peeled the soaked white stockings from each leg, pushed down her panties and pulled off her shirt and bra. She stood there for a moment, letting me look at her naked. "Shows over. And thank you for watching." And she laughed, closed the curtain and started the shower.

I stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. I wanted to watch her. I put my cock back in my pants, opened the door and left.

I was sitting on the couch when she walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her. And her red shoes. The towel was just big enough to cover some of her tits and end just below her ass. She walked over to me and stood in front of me, straddling my knees, smiling.

"So, what do you think?" she asked while looking down at me. 

"That was the most beautifully wild thing I've ever done." I said.

With that she leaned over and kissed me. 

"It was pretty naughty. We'll talk about it more after. But now I need you to pleasure me."

She the unwrapped the towel from her body and let it fall to the floor. Her cunt at eye level. I moved my mouth closer and let my tongue lick between the folds.

"Mmmmmm...that's right, your turn to make me come." She said as she pushed the back of my head closer. 

I fucked her with my tongue and then started sucking on her clit, inserting a finger into her pussy. 

"Yes, oh you don't know how long...faster please...two fingers. Uuuuugh suck on me yeah that's it. So long...for this...you fucking making me come..." And she went over the edge pushing my face hard into her pussy.

I leaned back enough to see her chest heaving. Her left hand still rubbing her nipple, her right hand still grasping my hair. 

" Thank you." she whispered her eyes closed. She bent down and kissed her wetness off my face. "That tastes good." She grinned. And just stood there over me, looking, still standing straddling my knees. "I promised myself." She said biting her lower lip. "That I wouldn't. But..." Her hand reached down to her cunt and she softly began to move her fingers through the folds. "Take out your prick."

I reached down and unzipped my pants and pulled out my hard cock.

"Now I'm not promising I will." And she kneeled on the couch, straddling lap.

"Do you need some convincing? I could put one of those beautiful tits in front of me in my mouth." I said.

"Um, yeah, maybe..."

I took one nipple into my mouth and I caressed the other in my hand. For about a minute she said nothing. Just cooing and aaahing as a sucked on one tit, moving my tongue across the nipple. 

"Fuck." She finally said. And she reached for my cock with her hand, holding just below her pussy. "Now I'm going to fucking ride you." She said with a little anger in her voice. "You better make this worth it." 

And she plunged down on my cock and held it there. Sitting there with her cunt totally engulfing my cock. Breathing hard. 

"Fuck me!" she screamed and she began to wildly move up and down over my prick. I met her thrusts, our hips slamming into each other. I leaned back and watched her tits shake with each thrust. I put my hands on her shoulders to help pull her down with each stroke, sucking on her tits as I could catch them in my mouth. I was about go over the edge. My head was swimming in all the lust.




The Good Girl



The text message on her phone simply says, "you will submit to your Daddy tonight." 

When Amy gets that text she knows what I expect. She knows when I will be arriving and she knows what she must do. Its not a long laundry list of things. I have my standards and she knows that they must be met.

I am flexible to be sure. Amy knows that when she submits that she must be cleanly shaven. I have no use for cute pussy hair trimmings, she knows exactly what she is to wear. Though like I said before she has some flexibility. If she chooses to wear the football jersey she must have wear thong panties and have the vibrating egg already in her shaved pussy. Its kept on a low speed just enough to stimulate but nowhere close to getting her off. If she chooses to wear the nightie, she doesn't have to have the egg in but she must not wear any panties. In either case she has a butt plug firmly nestled in her ass. She knows as soon as she gets the text message that she needs to put it in. She does this before her shower and before she shaves. I have trained her to keep it in. Amy knows that when I arrive that she will be kneeling in her submissive position on the floor in front of the couch on her knees, hands on her thighs, eyes down. She only greets me with a "good evening, Daddy" 

If I'm feeling generous I'll kiss her lightly on her forehead, other occasions I'll take my time to acknowledge her as is the case this time. I go to the kitchen and get something to drink. I check to make sure that Amy has ice ready in the freezer. She has forgotten to open another bag...but I say nothing. I silently file it away for later. I return to the living room, to see Amy still kneeling in front of the couch. Her long dark curly hair is down nearly between her shoulder blades. She is wearing the nightie. It is a silver tone and very low cut in the front. I can see the curves of her breasts and the nipple rings through each one. She is beautiful...I call her my angel. But she needs discipline on a regular basis and I am not here to rave openly about her beauty. I reach down and lift her chin to look into her dark eyes. 

"Look at me, my angel." I command her and her eyes look up to me. "I see that you've chosen the nightie."

"Yes daddy."

I look over her shoulder onto the couch, the vibrating egg is sitting there. She knows I will put it in her soon but I must inspect her."Stand up my angel."

"As you wish Daddy."She stands and I reach under the bottom of the nightie. She is smooth and very very wet. I reach further under her and feel the butt end of the plug. I push on it a couple of times and a whimper escapes her lips.

"Did I tell you that you could respond? I ask her.

"No Daddy, I couldn't help it."

"You know better."

"But Daddy..." I reach behind her with my other hand and pull her hair.

"Are you sassing me?"

"No Daddy."

"I think you are." I take my hand away from her increasingly dripping pussy and while keeping a hand firmly entwined in her hair I step behind her. 

"You have a smart mouth and you don't follow directions." She says nothing, eyes cast downward. I watch the look on her face via a mirror hung perfectly to see everything. I let go of her hair and sit on the couch. "You must be punished." Without a word, she turns and lays across my lap, her pale ass sticking up. She knows not to resist. I raise my hand and ask. "What are you?"

"I am daddy's good girl."I smack her left ass check and she sucks in her breath.

"What are you?"

"Daddy's good girl."I smack her right ass cheek and the echo reverberates through the living room.

"And what does my good girl like?"

She says nothing.I smack her square on the butt plug and a soft moan escapes her lips."I told you not to respond." I smack her on the ass, it reddens quickly.

"Yes Daddy."

"What do you like to do?" I ask her again more sternly.

"Mmmm...I like to fuck." She tries but cant help but have a husky sexy tone in her voice.

I smack her ass again."You like to what?" I ask her smacking her ass again.

"I like to fuck."

"What else do you like to do." Still more smacks on her ass that echo about the room.

"I like to suck my Daddy's cock."

"What else?" Repeated smacks on her ass."

"I like to taste my Daddy's come."

"What else do you like?" The spanking continues and her ass is a deep red.

"I like to feel my daddy's hard cock cumming in me."

"Is that all?"

"No, I like to feel Daddy's hard cock." She is squirming on my lap, trying to grind against my ever hardening cock. A quick slap on the plug stops that.

"You have a dirty mouth."

"Yes daddy."

"Who do you belong to?"

"You daddy."I smack her ass cheeks again and again. relishing the redness that is forming on each cheek. She is sopping wet and squirming. If I keep this up she might cum. But she isn't ready for that yet. I tell her to stand. She does and unconsciously rubs her ass.

"What are you doing?" I ask her. She winces knowing she is not allowed to rub her rear after she has been spanked. I yank her back across my lap and spank her another few times. 

"You are a brat, aren't you?" Every question and response is followed by a smack to her new deep ass.

"No Daddy." 

"Then why do you misbehave?"

"I can't help it Daddy."

"You know you need this punishment."

"Yes Daddy."

"Tell Daddy why you need it?"

"Because I'm a bad girl."

"But I'll will make you a good girl, won't I?"

"Yes Daddy."

"Now I will allow you to worship Daddy's cock."She quickly springs up off of my lap, kneels, unzips my pants, and pull down my boxers my aching hard-on comes free and she takes it all into her mouth. With every down stroke, I pull her long hair back and she looks up at me. She is very good at giving head and I enjoy every bit of it. I suspect that she is too, I can see her, nipple grow erect and the nipple rings push against her nightie. She speeds her pace and massages my balls. She wants me to cum in her mouth and I won't have that. I pull my cock back from her mouth and the briefest of whimpers escapes her lips. She looks up at me with the most sultry look, her eyes half-lidded. But I know that she couldn't help herself. I sit back down on the couch and pick up the vibrating egg. 

"Come to me, my angel"

Wordlessly she steps toward me and spreads her legs. I take the egg and slowly insert it into her dripping pussy. She draws in a breath, but knows better than to moan without permission. She bites her lip and closes her eyes."Look at me, my angel"

"Yes, Daddy." The response is breathy and I can tell she is fighting hard not to moan, sigh or whimper. I turn the egg on low and nod my head, indicating that she should kneel or sit in front of me. I reach for the remote and turn the TV on.

For the next few minutes, I play with the vibrating egg's remote while channel surfing. I pretend not to notice that the vibrations from the egg and the butt plug still firmly lodged in her ass are making her hotter and wetter. Alternating the speeds, at times she is on the verge on of an orgasm and I can see her skin redden. I bring her over and over to the edge, but never quite over it. 

"You want to cum, don't you?"

"Yes Daddy." Her voice ragged, barely above a whisper.

"But are you allowed to?"

"No Daddy."

"Why not?"

"I'm not allowed to cum, unless Daddy tells me to."

"Are you a good girl?" 

"Yes." The last part is almost a hiss. 

"Cum for Daddy."

She let out an deep breath and lets go. I sit back and watch her, shake and tremble as wave after wave rolls over her. She pulls on her nipple and and continues to cum. I turn the egg slowly down and let her recover. Amy reaches down to take the egg out.

"Did I tell you that you could do that?" She is caught off-guard by her own lapse.

"No Daddy, I"m sorry."

I stand up, and pull her hair. Not roughly but enough for her to stand up. 

"You are going to be punished. I let you cum and you lose your head." I turn off the TV and after checking that the egg is still in her dripping pussy. I lead her by the vibrating egg remote to the bedroom a few steps away. I was pleased to see that she had prepared the bedroom properly before I got there, lit candles illuminating the room. A pair of silk ties laid across the bed. A paddle underneath the ties. There was no ice though, I remembered I would have to get it. But first I took the Amy's nightie off and tied her up, fastening one arm to the bedpost and the other to the doorknob. She was standing but was firmly tied could move but not very much. I left the egg vibrating in her at a slow speed and turned wordlessly away and left the room. I took my time, taking a quick shower then going to the kitchen, getting the ice and putting it in to a glass. When I returned, Amy was trembling. The egg was buzzing in her and I could tell even in the candle illuminated room that she was extremely wet. I walked to her and took a piece of ice out of the glass.

"Did you forget something, angel?"

"Yes Daddy."

"What did you forget?"

"I forgot to open the ice Daddy. Please forgive me."

"You need to be punished."

"Yes, Daddy."I took the ice cube and started at the base of her neck, and moved slowly downward. I stopped at each erect nipple and slowly ran the cube over it. The nipple, already erect, shimmers with the moisture and Amy's breathing became even more ragged. I continued my ministrations going over one nipple then the other. Then I take a piece into my mouth and kneeling from of her run the ice up one leg and up to her throbbing clit. When I ran the ice over her clit, she moaned. She was lost in her own sexually charged haze...I stepped back and looked at her, she was trembling trying to herself back. I then decided that she had been punished enough. I untied her and led her to the bed, getting her on all fours. She knows what is coming to her. I slowly pulled the egg out and replaced it with my throbbing cock. She let out an audible moan and I smacked her on her ass."You came on the egg didn't you." I whispered in her ear as I buried myself deep into her."

"No Daddy, I was good."

"Tell me the truth." I asked her as I pulled her hair. In front of the bed was a full length mirror. She could see herself and me behind her driving myself in deeper.

"No Daddy...I...was a...good...girl."

"Then tell Daddy the truth." I smacked her on her ass, reddening it even more.

"I made myself cum."

"Did you cum on the egg?" I was driving myself deeper into her as I whispered in her ear.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Did you cum hard?"

"Not as hard as I want to cum on Daddy's cock." Always the smart mouth I smacked her hard on both cheeks and on the plug.

"You're a bad girl."

"No, Daddy I'm a good girl."

"Are you Daddy's good girl?"

"Yes."

"But you like to to fuck."

She was hesitant to say it. I smacked her hard on the plug to get her attention."You're a good girl?" I asked her.

"Yes."

"What do you like to do?"

"I'm a good girl, that loves to fuck."I was consumed by her raw sexuality, the beauty of her porcelain skin in contrast with my brown skin. I pulled her hair again and made her watch.

"You like to watch don't you."

"Yes Daddy I love to watch you fuck me hard."

"You love looking at watch yourself get fucked?"

"Yes Daddy, I love that dick inside of me."

"You want it bad?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Who's pussy is this?"

"Yours, Daddy"

"Who do you belong to?"

"You Daddy."

"You need to be fucked hard don't you?"

"Yes Daddy!"

"You want to cum?"

"Give me that big dick, Daddy. I need to cum!"

"Do you want to feel my cum."

"Yes, Daddy oh please give it to me!"

I could feel her body tense, and her pussy tightened around my dick. I held out all too briefly and as her body tremble and she began to scream. I felt myself beginning to cum. I came hard inside of her, never stopping as a I continued to smack her ass and pump harder. She collapsed forward on the bed, her body covered with sweat. I collapsed behind her. She sighed heavily and I pulled slowly out of her savoring the sweet release. I rolled over and reached for a towel and after letting some of my cum dribble out of her, I carefully dried her off. I pulled the plug out of her and pulled her close to me.I kissed her gently on her forehead, letting her know that she had my approval.

"You were very good tonight, angel. Go to sleep."

"Thank you, Daddy." She whispered as she drifted off to sleep.



The Good Girl



"You can't really mean this? What about Jessica and Rebecca" My husband growled.

"Yes, I'm positive of the way I feel...and our daughters will spend equal time with both of us. You'll get to see them a lot more than you do now..." 

"Jesus Lori, where did I go wrong?" He said sadly. 

"It's not just you...I'm just as much at fault here..." I stated. 

I guess it was bound to happen. My husband and I pursued the American Dream; big house, cars filling the driveway, expensive vacations, the country club membership etc. We were two mindless zombies serving the lifestyle that we created.

Our plan to keep up with the Joneses failed to take into account the time we needed to spend together as husband and wife. Jerry worked long hours, out by six am and rarely home before nine. Sundays were family day and the only time my daughters interacted with their father. 

Me, I was the typical soccer mom, running a tight household on a tight schedule. The one exception? I also worked full time because there never seemed to be enough money leftover at the end of the month to pay the multitude of bills. 

It was an exhausting lifestyle that once a person was mired in it, they felt trapped. I know that I did and so did a lot of moms and dads who I got to know over the years. 

My daughters, Jessica and Rebecca were in high school when I finally woke up and decided I needed to smell the coffee. I no longer knew who my husband was because the person he'd become was nothing like the man I stood at the alter with and said "I do" 

My deepest regret? Jerry was incapable of seeing the rut that we had fallen into. My endless arguments that we needed far less material things in our lives to be happy went right over his head. 

His pursuit of the almighty dollar preceded most everything in his life and in the end it cost him dearly. Whenever I brought the topic up for discussion, he'd dance all around it but refused to come to any life altering decision. His constant refrain,

"I love you Lori," rang false, and while I don't doubt that he really believed it, he didn't show me in the simplest ways. 

Somewhere along the way the love went of our marriage, at least it did for me. The morning and nightly hug and kiss seemed so perfunctory and insincere. Our sex life during our last five years together was close to non-existent. 

I caught him "jacking off" more than a few times and while I know that is perfectly normal behavior for a man, I was more than ready, willing and able to have intercourse with him and tried to initiate sex on many occasions. 

Although, my love for the man was in question I still desired him sexually and wanted his cock in me but he preferred spewing his seed in a clump of tissues. I'd managed to maintain a nice svelte physique over the years and his behavior hurt me to my core. 

At that juncture, my girls were in college and I felt overwhelmingly alone. My fortieth birthday came and went and I knew that I needed a change. I'd rather live a solitary existence than spend time with someone telling me he loves me and its just lip service. 

The divorce was inevitable if I had any hope of finding some happiness in my life. I wanted to love again and feel loved by someone but what transpired has shaken me to the foundation of my value system. 

First, there was Bree and then Kelly. To my utter shock and amazement I fell in love with a woman; a mature, sexy and full of life female.    But, I'm getting ahead of myself. There is so much to tell...so here goes...

The Good Girl: 

That was me, the "good girl" who could do no wrong in her parents eyes; the perfect daughter, the perfect sister. Top of the class, excellent grades, athletic, very intelligent and pretty to boot; at least that's what I heard about myself. 

No teenage rebellious period for me. I dated the jocks but my prim and proper ways must have driven them crazy. My mid-teens could best be compared to a half hour Disney Channel dramedy that teenage girls love to watch.   

Need a volunteer for a class project? Ask Lori. Need a student volunteer for career day? Ask Lori. The geek supreme who would commit her time for just about any extra curricular activity that came down the pike. I was responsible to a fault. 

My room at home? Not an object out of place, bed made every morning, dirty clothes in the hamper, and my closet? Lets just say it was ultra organized. A place for everything and everything in its place. 

For years I blamed this affliction on "first child syndrome" but gradually I came to think of it as an excuse. My sister Rachel was the complete opposite and in spite of her "flaws" is a happily married, successful real estate agent with four terrific kids. 

Sadly for me, I wed someone like myself. Our early years together in college were happy, full of love and loving. I lost my virginity to Jerry and he was a kind, warm and caring husband. But, we lost the fun loving spirit that imbued our courtship and first years of marriage. 

I brought that military type orderliness of my teen years to the running of a household. It consumed me and robbed my family of something very precious, spontaneity. Lists, charts and schedules dominated our lives. If it wasn't pre-planned, forget it. 

What surprises me today is that my daughters appear to be well adjusted, happy individuals. 

**** The first months after my divorce were difficult because the liberated feeling that inhabited my being vanished and was replaced by a terrible case of the lonelies. I felt sorry for myself, stopped going to the gym and rarely socialized with friends despite their pleas to the contrary. Eat, sleep and work dominated my life and rather quickly I fell into a rut, a very deep rut. 

Almost daily, I wondered if I'd meet someone new, if I'd ever have a satisfying sex life again. My ex was the only man I was intimate with and I kicked myself for having that "good girl" image growing up. I should have been experimenting with guys and girls while I was at college but I met Jerry as a freshman and that was that. I was loyal to a fault too. 

One hot steamy afternoon in July, I took stock of my nude reflection in the bathroom mirror. Not bad, I said to myself. My slim figure could use some tightening and firming. Although my breasts had some sag, I retained a youthful appearance and made a resolution to start working out.

My daughter Rebecca suggested that I join Harry's Hardcore Gym. 

"Why that one in particular?" I asked.

"For starters, they specialize in body sculpting, a combination of cardio and weight training." she replied.

I must have looked puzzled because Rebecca brought out her laptop and surfed different websites that demonstrated what she was talking about. The pictures of amazingly fit women stirred my interest and my libido, a first for me. 

"That's how I want to look," I stated absentmindedly.

"If you can achieve that...you'll be one red hot mama...fighting them off with a stick and I don't mean just the guys!" she crowed.

I gaped at Rebecca. 

"Girls too?" I asked a bit dumbfounded.

"Mom, where have you been? Women today are much more open about their sexuality, especially my generation," she stated. 

"Have you..." I couldn't go on. 

"We're not talking about me, I'm simply stating the facts," she said with finality, and that was the end of our discussion. 

Harry's Hardcore was in a converted warehouse, taking up an entire floor. The day I visited, I signed up for a membership and the very fit young woman behind the desk asked if I was interested in a personal trainer.

"I dunno, never gave it much thought," I answered.

Debbie gave me a list of names and contact numbers.

As I was leaving, I stopped at the bulletin board near the front entrance. I recognized a name from the list and scanned her small poster with photos. 

The pictures of Bree in her workout clothes advertising herself caught my attention. I guessed her age as early thirties but she looked much younger. The blonde haired girl looked positively "shredded" with eye popping muscles. 

Would I be able to achieve that look at the advanced age of forty-one? I hoped it was possible and wrote her number down on a slip of paper.

That evening I called and got her cell phone message center,

"Hey, this is Bree. I'm either at the gym or..." 

Bree had the most cheerful female voice and after I left my mumbled message, I kept wondering if my age would be a factor in her accepting to train me. 

While I was well acquainted with the inside of a gym, most of the weight training machines were foreign to me. I used light dumbells to a limited degree but only six or so basic exercises.

It was a little past nine when my cell rang. 

"Hello" I answered in a groggy voice, I had dozed off during "American Idol".

The person on the other end introduced herself as Bree and I immediately woke up. I expressed my interest in achieving a more fit look and commented on her form as it appeared in the photo. 

"Thank you," she stated sincerely. 

When I asked if she'd be interested in training an old hag, she laughed in the most charming way and told me she had clients in their sixties. We agreed to meet at the gym and discuss my goals. She wanted to make sure that she'd be a good match with what I had in mind. 

The next morning, I sat with Bree and looked through a binder of photos showing the transformations that some of her clients had accomplished. The results were astonishing and I gawked at the before and after shots doubting that it was the same person. 

"Hard to believe," she said, as if reading my mind. 

"It's...well...incredible..." I gushed.

One very pretty thirty-six year old mother of two dropped twenty-six pounds and after a year of training entered her first fitness contest. She looked awesome with a ripped body that still maintained its femininity. 

"I might be able to look like this?" I asked, pointing to the photo. 

"With the proper diet, exercise and lots of dedication, yes...I think you can." 

Bree was looking me over carefully,

"I need to do an evaluation to determine what course of action I'd take with you..." she hesitated momentarily.

"Give me six months and I know you'll be impressed, give me a year and I think you'll be amazed." she stated emphatically. 

I gawked at her unable to speak. 

"The key to any body transformation is the commitment level of the person involved. The more committed the individual, the greater the results." 

As I stared at Bree, I started to think that her photo didn't do her justice, in person she looked even more stunning. I was sold until she mentioned her fee. She wasn't cheap but if the results came even remotely close to what I saw in the book, then so be it.

Bree put my old ass through the wringer but not all at once. Gradually at each session she increased the tempo until I was pumping iron and loving it. I followed her diet plan as best I could but tended to cheat a little on the weekends, especially for a glass or two of wine. 

But, the pounds Bree wanted me to lose gradually came off and in six months I did notice the results just like she said. Overall, my body looked much trimmer and harder. I had "little" muscles where none existed before and it thrilled me. 

Bree worked my butt until I cried "uncle",

"One more rep Lori, come on girl! Give me one more!" she implored, and damn if I didn't do want she wanted. 

Another six months elapsed and it was evaluation time. In a sports bra and short/shorts, I flexed in front of the wall mirror with Bree appraising my look. 

"Look at your before picture," she stated, and held the photo up to my face. The transformation was amazing and although I wasn't shredded, I was close. 

"Wow, Bree...I can't believe its me," I gushed.

"How bought a victory celebration?" she asked, and invited me to a barbeque at her home.

During the twelve months that Bree trained me, I often wondered about her sexual preferences. I knew she was married but there was something in the way she looked at me that silently communicated some desire.

But, I found it hard not to fantasize about Bree also. The girl took great pains to maintain her bodies ripped look and she was a vision of muscle and femininity. If I had been in my twenties I guess my reaction would have disturbed me but I think most women are bi-curious at some point in their lives and for me it happened much later.

Although, I didn't know what to expect when I went to Bree's, it was the height of summer and she mentioned she had a swimming pool. Earlier that same day I shocked myself and went bikini shopping to Abbie's Place in Manayunk. I'd been there with my daughters but I only ever purchased a one piece. 

The yellow number I chose showed a lot of skin but I had to admit it looked darn good on my new body. Janelle, the salesgirl, whistled through her teeth.

"You look...well amazing!" she gushed, and I felt my face grow hot. 

Janelle, easily twenty years my junior, was giving me the once over and I felt some tingling in my groin area, a new experience for me. 

Of course Bree invited me to use the pool and when I emerged in my itsy bitsy teeny weeny bikini, she eyed me up and down. But, she was wearing something just as revealing and I ogled her too. 

"Bob's away for the weekend so it's just us girls..."  

In my heart and in my loins, I knew that my sexual drought since my divorce would finally be over and done with. Bree fired up the grill and we toasted to my achievement. By the time I downed my third apple martini, I was ready to throw caution to the wind. 

We were giddy from the booze when Bree stood and shed her suit.

"Skinny dippin' time!" she yelled and dove in the pool. 

I couldn't strip fast enough and followed her. We clowned around for awhile but my pussy dampened from gazing at Bree's luscious body. I was positive that she was no stranger in the art of seduction and had set-up the whole scenario. 

However, Bree was unaware that I had painstakingly researched girl-on-girl lovin' on line. I fingered myself silly looking at the pictures and videos of two girls in heat.

My favorite? A short video of a very pretty young woman performing oral sex on someone close to my age. It got me so hot that I pounded a newly acquired dildo into my pussy until I screamed my orgasm. 

Bree was leaning against the side in the shallow end of the pool, her nipples jutting proudly when my hunger reached the burning point. I swam over to her and the look of triumph on her face was indelibly imprinted on my brain. 

I lowered my head and suckled my first tit. In no time flat, I was addicted to the incredible sensation of the hard protuberance between my lips. 

"Oh Lori...yeah girl...that feels great!" she crowed.

I nursed her hot nips until my craving was sated. It was time to move on and I licked every centimeter of her amazing upper torso. 

Bree pulled my mouth to hers and we engaged in a heavy lip lock session. Girl's a damned good kisser, I silently mused and drove my tongue between her lips. 

When we took a breather, Bree hopped up on the pool deck butt first and opened wide with her feet on the edge. Her private area was groomed and free of any pubic hair. A consuming lust to eat my first pussy enveloped my being as her pink slice yawed open and looked so damn inviting. 

While I devoured Bree's delicious pussy, I reveled in the extraordinary sensation of my mouth glued over her sex as her hole leaked tart creamy juices into my thirsty throat. I never realized that the taste of a female could be so rich, so refined and craved more, lots more. 

With determination, I hefted her rock hard ass in my hands and drew the sopping flesh of her vagina closer, burying my face even further into her swampy folds. My tongue sought her clitty and oh my but the girl did yell her approval. 

Poor Bree had to push me away after she succumbed to several orgasms. I instinctively knew that her sex had become far too sensitive for me to continue and anyway it was my turn...

My ex-husband was no stranger to cunnilingus but having a woman perform on me? As they say, nothing could be finer! Bree's unbelievably talented tongue had me soaring to new realms of visceral pleasure.  

I spent the weekend in Bree's bed, exploring every part of her body. I tossed my first salad. devouring her butt with equal zeal. But, the girl was just as hungry and liberally used her dildo on me. By Sunday, I was sore but sexually satisfied, something I hadn't felt for a very long time.    Unfortunately, our brief liaison ended after that incredible weekend. Her husband was an impediment to any lasting relationship and unless she planned on getting a divorce, I knew there was no future for us. 

After a spirited workout, I expressed my feelings to Bree and her revelation as to her true feelings shocked me. 

"I like having my little affairs with women, my career affords me the chance to meet some very hot ladies who are all too willing to delve into that unexplored part of their sexuality," she stated succinctly.

I gaped at her open mouthed. 

"Look Lori...its like this, I'm happy with my marriage but I've always been attracted to my own sex too. Before, I started bodybuilding, I was an overweight schlumph of a wife in a dead end job that I hated. I remember leafing through a magazine one day and reading about this woman's transformation from fat to fit. Right then I vowed to do the same thing," Bree stopped for a moment with a pensive expression.

"Looking the way I did in size twelve jeans I realized I had about a zero chance of re-exploring my bi-side. Something I did quite freely in college until I met Bob. I purposely chose a very hot looking female personal trainer and I dedicated myself to her program. It took me about a year to remake my figure and I've never looked back. 

My trainer Tessa insisted that I enter an amateur fitness competition and I finished in first place. Later we went out to celebrate and after a few drinks...well we wound up back at her apartment...I'll just say that it was a night to remember." 

Bree gazed at me with a heartfelt expression and there were no ill feelings on my part. I understood perfectly. 

"Thanks for telling me..." but I was unable to control my emotions and tears traveled down my cheeks.

Bree was my first woman and except for my ex-husband the only other person that I had intimate relations with in my entire life. God, I felt so inexperienced and naïve. When I conveyed my feelings to her, she took me in her arms and held me very tenderly. 

"Am I still your trainer? Your friend?" she asked, and the fond look on her face touched something deep inside me. 

"Of course you are..." I blubbered on her shoulder. 

"Do you think less of me now..." 

I pulled back from Bree and gazed at her curiously. 

"Why would I think less of you? You've done what some people spend a lifetime thinking about but never act on. I admire you for that...but does your husband..." 

"Oh, he knows, in fact he was completely aware of my desire for same sex loving and encouraged me to explore my sexuality. Bob's a smart man...he knew that I would become unhappy and miserable if I didn't and it might doom our marriage...you see Lori, I love him a lot and I know he loves me...I don't want to lose that love," she stated sincerely. 

Bree's honesty had wet my eyes again. In her embrace, I slowly realized that she was in touch with who she was. Four days a week I met her at the gym for a strenuous butt kicking workout. Our friendship deepened and I looked forward to seeing her. 

Bree invited me to informal social affairs at her house; picnics, parties or just to hang out and socialize. I met her husband, Bob and it was anything but awkward as he was as sweet and charming as his wife. 




The Good Girl



The one thing I was grateful for? They didn't try to set me up with anyone. Although I was lonely and wanted to meet someone, that type of social situation would have been extremely uncomfortable for me. 

However, to my absolute delight, I unofficially became part of her family and not a weekend went by when I wasn't having dinner or attending some little function at Bree's home. Plus, she was my shopping buddy and I rarely went to the mall without her. The girl had an innate sense for fashion and I always deferred to her in such matters.     

And, life went on that way for me. I had a host of casual friends but Bree was far and away my closest gal pal. I had sex with three people the entire time; me, myself and I, or my fingers, a dildo and a vibrator. 

Unlike Bree, I had no skill at picking-up someone of either sex. Sure I had plenty of acquaintances at the gym and my bod got some very appreciative stares but I was clueless on how to react to the attention. In spite of my hard body, I kept thinking that my age was a deterrent and I would never meet anyone interested in me. Oh, how wrong I was! 

**** It was late Spring when Bree invited me to her annual party that she gave for her present and former clients, friends and co-workers. I missed the last one because I wanted to take a long overdue vacation with my daughter's.    

Reluctantly, I went to Bree's party. I doubted that I would know anyone there but she usually invited an eclectic mix of people. Sure enough there were some very hunky guys from the gym that I was dying to meet. But, I lacked the confidence to just go up to someone and start a conversation. 

It was difficult for me to relax and I drank too much in a vain attempt to calm my nerves. I was trying to blend in with the hedges that lined the pool area when I backed in to someone. I was immediately apologetic,

I'm so sorry...please forgive me..." 

I turned and gazed at a very lovely woman about my age. 

"You don't seem to be enjoying the party very much," she stated in a lilting voice. 

"I'm not good at this sort of..." and my voice trailed off. 

"I should introduce myself...Kelly's the name and don't forget it," she said with a chuckle. 

"Lori," was my only utterance as I continued to stare at her pretty face. 

"So Lori, what brings you to one of Bree's little soirees," 

"Oh, ah...she's my personal trainer and I figured what the hell, maybe I'll meet someone interesting..." the alcohol in my bloodstream was doing the talking. 

"Have you met anyone interesting this evening?" she asked with a smirk.

"Nah...but I'd like to meet them..." I stated and pointed in the direction of the hot looking guys, easily ten years younger

Kelly leaned close to my ear and whispered,

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news sweetie but...they're gay." 

The look of disappointment on my face made Kelly laugh out loud. I felt like a complete and utter fool, a close to inebriated fool. 

But, I was captivated by Kelly too. There was something so familiar about her face but I couldn't put my finger on... 

After a few minutes in Kelly's presence, I found her to be utterly charming. My drink glass was empty and she volunteered to get me another. 

"What poison are you drinking these days," she asked, taking my arm and leading me to the makeshift bar in the kitchen. 

"Vodka and grapefruit juice..." I slurred.

"Vodka and grapefruit it is...heavy on the vodka or juice?"

I leaned against the wall to keep from swaying and Kelly picked up on that right away.

"Looks like heavy on the grapefruit..." she stated with authority.

After Kelly handed me my drink, she guided me to the far side of the pool away from most of the guests. We sat in a couple of chairs along a wood rail fence and suddenly I felt very self-conscious. I sipped my drink nervously and kept my eyes averted from her intense gaze but a question bubbled from my lips. 

"I'm curious...why haven't I seen you here before? How long have you known Bree" I enquired. 

"Oh...six or seven years, maybe longer. She was my trainer at Harry's Hardcore Gym...we keep in touch but only in a very casual way..."

Then it hit me like a thunderbolt. I remembered where I saw her lovely face...

"Thanks to Bree, I was able to change my body...  

"Yeah, I know...I said bashfully, interrupting her in the process

The astonished look on Kelly's face dissolved to one of recognition. 

"You mean I'm still in that book of transformations that she shows to clients?" 

"Yep!" I replied, looking deep into her gorgeous brown eyes.

"Why that little...I gave her permission but...aren't the photos yellowed by now," she stated sarcastically.

"Not yet...and your story convinced me enough to train with Bree. I mean you looked fantastic and...ah...still look..." The booze in my bloodstream had emboldened me.

"Aw...yer making me blush ..." 

"No, that's the truth..." I was positively gushing. 

Kelly gazed at me fondly, effectively turning my insides to goo.

"That's very sweet of you to say..." 

When Kelly took my hands in hers, the sensation from her touch traveled throughout my entire body. Oh my god! My mind reacted.

"...The part Bree left out was how I divorced my prick of a cheating husband years before I went to see her. Turned me off to men forever...anyway I discovered something about myself..."

Kelly didn't elaborate and although my curiosity was killing me, I let it drop. I finished my drink and was very unsteady when I got up from the chair. 

"Whoa there girl...need some help?" 

"Nah...I'm...ok..." and promptly slid to the ground on my knees. 

I leaned forward with my hands and wondered how in the hell I was going to get up and walk to my car. 

"I see you're making progress..." she intoned with sarcasm. 

I could just hear the talk, Lori the drunk as I crawled past the guests. 

Kelly helped me to my feet and put her arm around me for support.

"I should leave...I warbled drunkenly.  

"Why don't I take you home...it's a lot safer..." she suggested, and at the moment I was in no position to argue. 

"Ok," I slurred.

The next thing I remember, Kelly was helping me up the steps to my front door and looking through my purse for the keys. Then I smelled coffee and discovered I was lying on the sofa with a moist towel on my head. 

Kelly pulled me up to a sitting position and I tasted java on my lips. Slowly, I sobered up and felt like a complete idiot for allowing myself to get so stinking drunk!

"Sorry about this..." I stated apologetically.

"Not to worry, it happens to all of us at one time or another," she said. 

I put my arms around Kelly and hugged her.

"Thanks...you've been so kind..." I stammered. 

Kelly patted my back as I let out a chest rattling yawn.

"I better go and let you get some sleep..." she got up to leave. I was feeling better but I was ready to lose consciousness. 

"I'd like to repay you...please...a token of my appreciation...Perhaps dinner?" I asked.

Kelly smiled and appeared to be mulling over my invitation. 

"Sure, that would be nice...here's my card." and left it on the coffee table. 

I never made it to my bed and spent the night on the sofa. The next morning I awoke to a sour cottony taste in my mouth and a colony of bees buzzing in my head. It took me the better part of the day to regain my senses and oh brother did I kick myself in the butt for my behavior. 

A vision of Kelly's tall, lanky body swam into my conscious mind but her unflinching act of compassion impressed me even more. Thoughts of her dominated my psyche until my daughter made her usual Sunday afternoon call. 

As I sat talking to Rebecca on the phone, I spied Kelly's card and reached for it,

"Kelly Neall, Attorney At Law" 

Except for a cell, office phone numbers and email, no mention of a specific law firm. 

After I ended my call, I stared at the card again; "Specializing In Family Law" was printed in italics on the bottom. I wonder what that means I mused silently.

A mental image of Kelly slowly paraded across my mind. Vivacious, mature and sexy were linked to her lovely visage. I remembered that she was dressed in a spaghetti strap "T" shirt and Capri pants that looked molded to her body. Her shiny chestnut hair was clipped short but not too short and accentuated her pretty facial features. 

One physical attribute that really made an impression on me were her intense brown eyes. Then there was the electric sensation of her hands on mine. All this occurred while I was six sheets to the wind. What would I experience if I was sober? my brain questioned. 

Kelly had seen a side of me that rarely surfaced and a feeling of shame washed over me. I was past forty years old and my "good girl" image still haunted me. Although I was apprehensive, I picked up my cell and punched in her number. Kelly answered and my usual self-confidence evaporated.

"Hi...ah...it's me Lori...remember me...last night..."

"Of course I remember you..." 

"I'm real sorry about...I'm not usually like..."

"Hey...don't sweat it...you looked like you needed a friend," she said warmly.   "I was hoping you were free this Friday or Saturday night... " 

The way I was speaking it sounded as though I was asking her out on a date. I suggested Del Buono's, a classy bistro in Manayunk. 

"Sounds great! What time?" she asked enthusiastically. 

Since it was my treat, I volunteered to drive and not consume any alcoholic beverages.

"Oh...by the way...how ya feelin?" she asked. 

"Not bad...a little hungover..." In truth, I was still hurting. 

When I ended the call, I lay back on the sofa and sighed. There was something about Kelly that had me intrigued, I just couldn't put my finger on it. Later that night, I lay in bed thinking about Kelly, wondering why I was enthralled by her. Then, it hit me right between the eyes; my car was still at Bree's house!

On Monday, Bree gave me the raised eyebrow look when I showed for our session. 

"Have fun Saturday?" she asked in a smarmy voice.

My face grew terribly hot and I knew I was blushing.

"Jeez, I'm sorry..."

Bree held her hand up, stopping me in mid-sentence.

"No apologies necessary...I heard Kelly took control of the situation."  

"Yeah...kinda like my guardian angel."

"Ready to sweat all that booze out of your system?" she asked.

Bree worked me extra hard and during a break I mentioned that I was taking Kelly to dinner as repayment for her act of charity. 

"Del Buono's is nice, don't ya think?" I asked nervously. 

"Hmm...great food...intimate...perfect place to take someone for a romantic dinner," she stated in a matter-of-fact way.

Bree's words thundered through my head. Is that why I'm taking Kelly there? I silently questioned. 

"Lori...you realize that Kelly's gay...she likes girls exclusively..."

I'd had my suspicions from part of the conversation on Saturday night but it never sunk in to my alcohol fuzzed brain

I spent the rest of the week in nervous anticipation. My boss caught me daydreaming at my desk a few times and by Friday was giving me dirty looks. 

On "D" day, I went through my closet, trying on every classy outfit I owned. The only one that appealed to me was a black sparkly top and matching skirt with shiny pumps. Too formal? My brain questioned.

Why I was acting like a schoolgirl was beyond my comprehension. I left far too early and drove below the speed limit to make up some time but I was a good fifteen minutes early when I rang the doorbell.   

When Kelly opened the door, I just stared at her. She was no spring chicken but damn the woman was lovely. My gaze shifted over her sleek torso and stopped at the long lean legs that grew out of her tasteful skirt. 

"I'm sorry...I'm a little early..." 

"Hey, no problem girl...come in," she greeted me very warmly.

Kelly's townhouse was an eclectic mix of new and antique furnishings. 

"Have you decided on a restaurant?" she asked.

Kelly's intense gaze was withering my resolve to act like a strong, confident female. 

"Oh...ah...Del Buono's...if that's ok...or maybe we can try somewhere else..."

"No, No, I've been dying to eat there, just never had a reason." 

At the bistro, the maitre d' seated us in a booth along the wall and away from the bustling tables in the center of the room. After we ordered, I gazed at the very pretty woman across from me and inwardly sighed. 

While Kelly sipped white wine, she looked around at the elegant interior.

"Come here often?" she asked.

"Nah, first time for me too...I wanted to express my gratitude by taking you someplace special..." I stated shyly.

Kelly's brown eyes held my gaze. 

"I couldn't help but notice on your business card that you're an attorney?" 

"Yes, I am but don't hold that against me..." 

I must have looked confused.

"It's a joke Lori...you can laugh now..." 

I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at my attractive companion. We barely knew each other but we had one thing in common, Bree. 

Kelly described meeting Bree, who was a fledgling trainer at the time. 

"I was overweight, out of shape and very unhappy with my life and physical appearance. But there was something about her that I trusted and lets face it, it's not easy transforming ones body. It does take a lot of hard work and plenty of determination but I was pleased with the results." 

Momentarily, Kelly looked lost in thought. 

"It gave me renewed self-confidence. I went back and finished law school..." 

Kelly looked directly in my eyes.

"Hey, enough about me!  

I spoke honestly about my life with my husband and the bitter disappointment of divorce. How difficult it was starting over, the uncertainty of finding someone new. 

While I was talking, Kelly covered my hand with hers as a sympathetic gesture and it warmed my heart. Our dinners arrived and we chatted idly until it was time to leave. 

When I pulled up in front of her apartment, I felt sad that our "date" was over.

""Come in for a nightcap...I promise I won't take advantage of you...Girl Scouts honor!" 

Instead of the usual salute, she held up her right hand with crossed fingers. I loved her sense of humor and readily accepted. 

In her living room, I gazed at framed snapshots of her with two young men, obviously her sons as they both looked a lot like Kelly. 

"Your boys?" I asked when she entered the room with our drinks. 

"Yeah, those are mine," she said wistfully, and handed me a white wine.

"Cheers," we toasted simultaneously.

Kelly pointed to the photograph in my hand,

"That's Michael on the left, he's twenty-three and got married last May. And, that handsome devil on the right is Ryan, he's twenty-one and lives in Saint Louis with his girlfriend...god, I really miss him"

Suddenly, Kelly turned toward me,

"Now take your time and SIP your wine...enjoy the moment...er...the company," and batted an eye at me in an exaggerated but seductive way.

We both laughed and clinked glasses. Kelly was seated at the other end of the sofa facing me with her legs folded under her lithe body. She wore form fitting clothes that accentuated her extraordinary figure. Especially striking was the distinctive "V" shape of her upper torso that bodybuilders get from heavy weight training.

Damn, I wonder what she looks like without her clothes...my mind wondered. I expelled those thoughts from my head, after all, we barely knew each other.

"Do you still compete?" I blurted out mindlessly.

Kelly was confused momentarily, as my question came out of left field.

"You mean in fitness competitions?"

I nodded my head dumbly.

"Nah, I entered one because Bree wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. I have to admit it was thrilling participating my first time but...I'll just say that Bree and I parted ways when I refused to continue...but it was amicable and we're still friends...I had bigger fish to fry...Law School and..." her voice trailed off.

Then it hit me, did Bree seduce Kelly or vice versa? I dared not ask. 

"Bree woke something inside me that I was aware of but denied for many years...I even got married thinking I could repress that part of myself..."

Kelly appeared to be introspective and absentmindedly toyed with her wine glass.

"You ok?" I asked with concern.

Kelly smiled at me and her entire face lit up. 

"Yeah...it can be a bitch remembering the past...the only good thing that came out of my marriage was my two sons...I wouldn't trade them for all the tea in China...enough!" 

The hour had grown late and I let a light yawn escape my mouth. I set the wine glass on the coffee table and got up.

"Thanks for accepting my invitation, I had a great time..." I gushed.

When Kelly hugged me, I looked deep into her beautiful brown eyes. 

"Will I see you again, Lori? 

"Yeah...sure thing, I'll call you..." 

While in her snug embrace, Kelly brushed her soft lips over mine, I audibly moaned but she pulled back. The sensation sent chills up and down my spine. 

"Safe trip girlfriend...you're not feelin' the..." 

I shook my head and we parted company. 

Kelly dominated my thoughts on the ride home, that night in bed and the next day as well. My cell rang interrupting my daydream,

"Hey girl, I thought you were comin' over for a barbeque..." Bree's voice sounded concerned but not angry.

"Shit, I'm sorry Bree...I..."

"No worries girlfriend...how'd it go last night...with Kelly?"

I hesitated for a moment.

"Oh...ah...very nice...I'll see ya in half an hour."

I hurriedly changed with Kelly still taking charge of my waking thoughts. Fuck, I never felt this way about anyone in my life except maybe Jerry. But, somehow this felt different and I could see myself falling for her. What about my desire to meet a man and...?

As I sped down the Blue Route, I realized that it didn't make any difference to me, male or female. I reached for my cell and called Kelly but got her voice mail. I was instantly disappointed. 

Later, Kelly called as I was getting ready for bed. It was past twelve midnight. 

"Hey, I'm sorry I missed yer call earlier but I had my stupid phone on vibrate in my purse. I was at my sons house and well the time flew by...so if it's not too late, what's up?"

I hesitated far too long. Why did I call? And, although I knew the answer, I lost my courage. 

"Lori...hello...ya there?" 

"Yeah...I...ah...how are you?" I asked.

"I'm fine but was there a reason that you called me..."

Dear God, the woman must think I'm some kind of nit wit, I thought silently.

"I...ah...would you like to have dinner with me again...ah maybe next week or some...other time..." I sounded like a complete idiot.

Kelly, bless her heart, took charge of the situation.

"That would be lovely, I'd like that. I'll call you mid-week and we can decide on the day and time." she replied.

"Oh...ok, yeah...great," I stammered and lost my voice.

"Lori? You can hang up now. Talk to ya soon." 

My phone fell silent and I stared at the opposite wall. Why was I acting this way? 

On Wednesday my cell rang as I was taking a load of wash from the dryer. I raced to answer the urgent tone and when I heard Kelly's voice my heart leapt. 

"Hey Lori..."

Kelly explained that she was still working but didn't want to call too late. 

"Dinners on me this time, my treat and I insist. Would you mind very much if I cooked for us?" she asked.

"No, not at all. Can I bring anything?"

"Yeah, a nice red or white."

The rest of the week dragged along and I thought Saturday would never arrive. I changed outfits several times and finally settled on one that I thought looked chic and highlighted my lean form.

Surprisingly, I wasn't nervous or hyper when I arrived at Kelly's. I realized that I needed to elevate my maturity level and self-confidence if I wanted to be appealing or attractive. 




The Good Girl



I sat at the kitchen island and watched Kelly in action. The girl whipped up a salmon dinner that had me salivating. As we sat in her dining room and consumed the delicious meal, I noticed that her complexion had a nice olive tone. 

I'd always thought of girls named Kelly with blonde hair, blue eyes and pale skin but my dinner companion looked decidedly ethnic. I mentioned my curiosity to her and she smiled in the most charming way. 

"My dad's of Irish descent and my mother, Italian. With my brown eyes, brown hair and coloration they should have named me Maria or some such..." 

As we drank an after dinner aperitif, I couldn't help but notice a palpable sexual tension in the air. The fond glances that we exchanged were no accident and I was yearning to feel her lips on mine. 

With soft jazz playing in the background we adjourned to her living room albeit at opposite ends of the sofa. My apprehensive behavior returned and I could see a touch of curiosity in her mien. Did I want a full blown romantic relationship with a female? Was I ready for one? Kelly picked up on my feelings. The girl was absolutely prescient about such matters.

"Having second thoughts?" she asked.

"About what?" I returned.

"Lori, I think you're very attractive but I'm not going to chase you...and I don't play games...I'd like to be more than just friends...but if you're not ready then...we can take it slow."

I felt childlike in her presence but her words rang true. What did I want? 

"Maybe I should go...I feel kind of foolish..." I mumbled, and rose.

"You don't have to leave..." she stated.

I immediately sat down in the spot that I just vacated. 

"Tell me, what do like to do for fun?" she enquired.

The soft sound of Kelly's voice was having a hypnotic effect on me. I relaxed and thought about her question. 

"Let me see...I like movies...when the girls were young, I loved taking them to the amusement park. I had a great time riding the roller coaster...when Jerry and I were dating, I really enjoyed slow dancing with him...God, I haven't done that in years...I'm sure there's more but that's all I can recall on short notice..." my face grew hot, I was blushing.

Kelly's mien lit up with a broad smile.

"I love to dance..." she said, and suddenly she got up and stood before me, offering her hand.

"Here? Now?" I asked incredulously.

I helped Kelly move some furniture until we had a small but manageable area, then she put some soft romantic music on the cd player 

"May I have the pleasure?" she asked.

It took us a couple of awkward moments to figure out who was holding on to who and where...

Kelly's body moved in the most liquid and sensual way against me. I looked up into her lovely eyes and felt my earlier trepidation dissolve. Her fluid gracefulness matched the tempo of each song and I rested my head on her shoulder, completely lost in the wonderful sensation.

As the music played on, Kelly tightened her embrace and a feeling of security, of peace radiated throughout my entire being. She pulled back a little and gazed at me with a fond expression.

"Having fun?" she asked.

"Yes, oh yes..." I murmured, and pulled her tight against me until the music stopped. 

Still securely enfolded against her body, she kissed me and I kissed her back with enthusiasm. No tongues were in play but it felt so extraordinary having her lips pressed against mine. By the time we stopped, I was shaking. 

"Hey Lori...you alright?" she asked in a sweet voice.

"Uh huh," I could barely speak.

"Can I see you again tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'd really like that." 

Obviously it was time for me to go but I was having a hard time dislodging myself from her arms. Kelly was sticking to her plan and playing hard to get. While it irked me on some level, I had to agree with her logic. 

When I divorced Jerry, I never for a moment contemplated that I would find a women. And, yet...

The next afternoon found my lovely companion and me at Hershey Amusement Park. I hadn't been there since my daughters were in their tweens and the place had grown by leaps and bounds. 

Kelly indulged my fondness for Roller Coasters and we rode until she looked green around the gills. During breaks, we ate funnel cake, French Fries, just about any type of junk food that caught our fancy. 

As we sat pulling apart a spun cone of warm cotton candy, Kelly looked at me with a broad smile,

"If Bree could see us now, she'd have a heart attack..." she stated gleefully.

Bree was one of the most health conscious eaters on the planet and her mantra that her body was a temple, she preached at almost every workout session. 

"Hell, I say, if ya can't live it up once in a blue moon why live at all?" my pretty friend declared.

Kelly looked so radiant in the late afternoon sun, the way it captured her face, the look in her eyes as she gazed at me with a mirthful expression. She wore a form fitting "T" shirt and denim shorts that showcased her sleek female body to the max. Her appearance garnered quite a few glances from both men and women. The girl's a head turner, I quietly mused, and felt damn lucky to be with her.  

By early evening, we were back in Kelly's car headed for home. I was stuffed, feeling happy and couldn't wipe the smile off my face.

"Did you have fun?" she asked in a parental sounding voice.

"Yeah...lots!" I crowed like a little girl.

Kelly wanted to stop at a Starbucks near her home and it pleased me because I hated to see our time together end. While I sat sipping my very hot latte, she eyed me curiously.

"You really had a good time today?" she asked.

"Oh yeah...couldn't ya tell?" I returned.

"Sometimes, it's the simple things in life that make us happy...I had a great time too...because I was with you..."

Kelly's sentiment startled me and I felt my face grow ferociously hot.

"Ooh...someone's blushing..." 

My heart thudded rapidly in my chest and I was certain that Kelly could hear it. Temporarily robbed of speech, I took her hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. My gesture spoke volumes because I saw a bit of moisture invade her eyes.

Wide awake from the coffee infusion, Kelly invited me in to watch a movie. We took our usual spots at the far ends of the sofa but as she channel surfed, I made a bold move and sat next to her.

Kelly stared at me and for once she was speechless.

When the show started, I leaned ever so slightly against her and an arm encircled my shoulders. The sensation was indescribable and I snuggled closer. The warmth from her body felt so soothing but my caffeine high didn't last long and I dozed off.

I woke to find the movie over and Kelly tenderly stroking the side of my face and hair. My body was stretched out with my head in her lap. 

"Hey sleepyhead...have a nice nap?"

"Yeah," I answered, and realized a thin line of drool had leaked from the side of my mouth. I hastily wiped the offensive liquid with the back of my hand and sat-up.

"I'm sorry...I can't believe I slept that long..." I was angry with myself. 

"No biggie, I enjoy watching you," her tone was earnest. 

Kelly took me in her arms.

"I like when you hold me," I breathed huskily in her ear.

Kelly brushed her soft lips along the side of my face and neck, sending shivers down my spine. 

"I know you do...and guess what?" 

Before I had a chance to answer, Kelly kissed me ardently and I melted in her embrace. With the gentle pressure of her lips on mine, her tongue slid into my mouth. To say the girl was skilled in the art of French kissing was an understatement. It was by far one of the most erotic experiences of my life and I gave it my all.  

When we stopped for a breather, I was literally shaking.  

"I like having this effect on you..." she panted in my ear. 

"Oh Kelly..." I moaned, and another torrid round ensued.

My will was no longer my own. I was Kelly's and I knew it with every part of my being. 

"Do you want to make love to me?" she whispered in a passion filled voice. 

"Yes Kelly...please...yes..." I groaned in return. 

Not even my ex-husband in our early years of dating turned me on to this volcanic level. 

"Hmm...I thought we were gonna take it slow..." 

All I could do was moan in response and clung to Kelly, delicately bussing her face and neck.

"I don't think we should go all the way...just yet...but I can make you feel good..."

As Kelly kissed me with inflamed desire, her hand fondled my breast, gently squeezing. A thumb probed for my nipple, poking mightily against the sheer fabric of my bra. Encountering the hard knob, it urgently circled and rubbed sending small jolts of electricity into my already soggy slit. 

"Oh...oh...oh Kelly..." I groaned.

Searching fingers crept under my shorts, into my panties and up my crease. Finding the slick moisture, Kelly's digits strummed my slice, concentrating on my throbbing clit. 

"Oh...oh...that feels so effing good..." I growled with delight. 

Kelly played my pulsating pussy like a guitar virtuoso. Sweet Jesus, the girl is incredible, my brain shouted in ecstasy. At the same time, she kept tweaking a hard nip until I went into sensory overload and a rush of sensation heralded a pulse pounding orgasm. 

"Oh God...oh God...oh God..." I cried out.

My body shook and froze as wave after wave crashed over me. Finally I calmed down to discover Kelly holding me close but I was wringing wet with sweat and shivering. I looked up at my friend, now my lover and smiled. 

"Kelly, that was..." I couldn't find the words and was as limp as a rag doll.

"Shh...rest, ok?" 

But, I was too keyed up and the fires of desire burned bright inside me. I wanted to do the same for Kelly and got my second wind in record time. As I nuzzled my companions neck, I left a trail of light kisses on her downy skin. 

"Umm...nice..." she purred. 

When I tried to fondle her tit, Kelly stopped me and I gazed at her with a very confused expression.

"What's wrong..." I asked in an injured voice.

"Nothing...but we're gonna take it slow...remember..." 

As hot tears enveloped my eyes, Kelly clasped me tight to her hard body.

"I want you..." I bleated like a lost sheep. 

"I know you want me...and Lord knows, I want you..."

Kelly kissed me with a mouth on mouth crush that helped to partially allay my fears. I saw that she was deep in thought about something and I kept silent. 

"...this time I want the person to be sure of their feelings and lets face it, the tension, the waiting will only make the sex better...don't ya think so?" She asked, and I could tell that she was speaking from her gut.

Although I didn't agree, there was no point in arguing. However her comment intrigued me. 

"Were you hurt by someone?" I asked, my curiosity was on full alert. 

A huge sigh escaped her lips and seemed to originate from deep inside her. 

"Yeah...first by my abusive ex-husband and then..." her voice grew thin and I saw tears in her pretty brown eyes. 

"Oh...I don't know why I'm acting this way...it's been over and done with for four years now but...Jocelyn...I made a big mistake falling for one of my clients..." 

Kelly's sad demeanor had my eyes leaking in empathy and her embrace tightened around me.

"...someday when we've had a few too many drinks, I'll tell ya the WHOLE story..." she said pensively.

Kelly kissed my cheeks and forehead very tenderly and gazed at me with the fondest expression.

"Don't fret dear one...you have a special place in my heart already..." 

"Oh Kelly, I feel the same about you..." I blubbered and bawled quietly on her shoulder. 

Somehow, I gathered my strength for the ride home. We promised to stay in touch but as I was going out the door,

"Will I see you next weekend?" I asked.

I must've had a forlorn look on my face because Kelly put her arms around me. 

"Yes, dear one..." and kissed me ever so sweetly. 

I scarcely recall driving home yet there I was in my driveway, the engine still running. How long I sat there contemplating the events of the evening as they unraveled in my head, I can't be sure. I was falling in love and was entirely cognizant of those very familiar feelings as they resounded in my body. 

However, instead of a clear headed vision of what might lay ahead, I saw the future as cloudy. What would my family say? My daughters? How would they react? Would they accept Kelly as my companion if indeed it progressed that far? And, that was just the beginning. How would the people I worked with respond? My ex-husband?

As the questions flooded my psyche, I knew with absolute certainty that in a short span of time, Kelly had become part of my life. That our relationship would continue to grow stronger and stronger. 

In my soul, resided a feeling of inevitability, that somehow it was destined to happen, was meant to be. And, like the surf pounding relentlessly on the shore, was unstoppable. 

The week progressed at a snails pace and the days seemed drearier. Although we made plans for the weekend via email, I longed to hear her sexy voice. Late Friday I called. It was past eleven and a sleepy Kelly answered. 

"Hey, it's me Lori. I...ah just wanted to talk and..." 

"Couldn't wait, huh?" 

"No...I...miss you," my voice earnestly expressing my true feelings. 

"Yeah? I miss you too but...about this weekend..."

My heart sank to my knees.

"I think I'm coming down with the flu or something. I started feeling sick around lunchtime...I cancelled my afternoon appointments and I went straight to bed. Jeez, I feel worse than ever..." 

My first reaction to cry like a baby at the mere thought that I wouldn't get see Kelly was replaced by my mission of mercy plea. I begged her to let me take care of her and nurse her back to health, at least until Sunday night. 

"But, I'll be piss poor company and I don't want you getting the same thing, dear one."  

When she called me "dear one", my heart rocketed to the stratosphere. I stated my case again and she begrudgingly accepted.

I was the complete mother hen for two days and took care of Kelly. A pot of homemade chicken soup bubbled on the stove, my mothers own recipe and I served her bowls of the medicinal concoction. 

Poor Kelly was running a high temperature. Carefully, I laid soothing cool towels on her overheated brow, adjusted the bed covers and put extra blankets on when she got the chills. All in all, I did the same for Kelly as I did for my daughters when they were growing up. 

Saturday night I slept on her couch and rose often to check and see if she was sleeping, awake, felt better or simply wanted my company. But, she slept most of the time and I remembered my mom telling me how medicinal a good amount of shut eye could be. 

Sunday morning, under a plethora of blankets, Kelly's fever broke and when I checked, the bed sheets and her flannel pajamas were soaked. I had to change the linen and Kelly.

I found another pair of pj's in her dresser and fresh linen in the hall closet. I gently toweled Kelly's face and neck, removing any excess moisture.

"I've got to change you...get you out of these wet things," I stated, and she nodded her weary head.

When I pulled back the covers, I quickly removed Kelly's dank sleepwear and wrapped her in a plush terry cloth robe. I pulled her upright and helped her to a small divan in front of the bed. 

With as much speed as I could muster, I remade Kelly's bed and dumped everything into the bathroom hamper. When I re-entered her bedroom, she was smiling weakly at me.

"Thanks," she croaked in a tired voice.

I leaned towards my sick friend and planted a smooch on her now cool forehead. As I assisted her back into bed, I slowly realized that I had seen her naked body without giving it much thought. I wracked my brain trying to recollect what she looked like but my concern for her well being preceded any other feelings I might have had. 

After I served Kelly some tea and more soup, she slept soundly the remainder of the day. I sat in the wing chair, gazing fondly at her, wondering how I was going to explain to everyone I knew that I was in love with Kelly. 

When I left that night, Kelly was on the road to recovery. I was drained from my mothering chores and barely made it to bed. 

On Tuesday at work, the receptionist informed me that she had a delivery for me at the front desk. When I walked into the lobby, a beautiful array of fresh flowers greeted me. I opened the note card,

My Dear One, 

Words alone cannot express the gratitude that I feel. You took care of me in my hour of need and only a true friend would go to such lengths.

I'm counting the hours until this weekend. I can't wait to see you. I miss you. 

With loving thoughts,

Kelly

As I carried the flowers back to my desk, my eyes flowed like a leaky faucet. With Kelly's card in hand, I hid in a bathroom stall trying to regain my composure but every time I read her words of endearment my emotions got the better of me. 

Over the summer our relationship deepened. Weekends and gradually some weeknights were spent together but her reluctance to bed me, to make love to me was maddening. We made out like two oversexed teens and groped each others body only no clothes were shed. My orgasms via her fingers were satisfying but I wanted so much more and Kelly knew it. 

But, the pleasure of her company was something that I cherished even more. Kelly's sense of humor, her intelligence, her kind and caring personality made me fall harder than hard for the brunette beauty. 

When I was with Kelly, I felt alive. I could be myself, no false pretenses, no put on airs; she accepted me for who I was. The girl possessed a quiet self-confidence that shone through with nary a hint of conceit. And, her maturity level eclipsed mine rather easily. 

My family and friends would scarcely believe that me, "the good girl", adored a woman.  

On a hot August day, Kelly informed me that she would be away the next week visiting her son in Saint Louis. My heart dropped and she saw the sad look on my face. 

"It's only a week dear one..."

"I know but...I'll miss you," I mewled.

Kelly held up her cell phone.

"You can call me, ya know," she stated.

I would but sparingly. The importance of spending time with ones family was firmly rooted in my basic principles.

When I saw Kelly the Sunday she came home, my heart leapt with joy. As soon as she closed the front door, she embraced me and kissed me passionately. 

"Hey you, miss me?" she asked.

"Gosh Kelly, I missed you so much..." I whispered fervently. 

The hour was already very late and Kelly was beat from traveling. As we lay on the sofa side by side, I stroked her face and hair. Her eyes were heavy with sleep. A few well placed hugs and kisses would have to satisfy me. 

Kelly slept peacefully in my arms and my gaze never left her lovely visage. 

My mind was a torrent of feelings but one kept pounding away at the forefront. The one sentiment that preceded all others in the importance of human emotion and no amount of rationalization from me could chase it away; I was in love with Kelly. 

During the period of my sexual "torture", the only other means of relief (besides Kelly's fingers) was via a dildo and I used it quite liberally in the privacy of my bedroom. But, all my carnal frustration and tension was nearly at an end...

**** Kelly often talked about going antiquing in Adamstown near Reading and I learned that she acquired many of the diverse items in her home there. She called me late in the week and asked if I was interested in going with her. Christ, I would have followed the woman to the gates of Hell and back. I enthusiastically accepted. 

"We have to be up by five thirty and out of the house by six am so plan on spending the night, ok?" she asked commandingly.




The Good Girl



It was September 5th, the first day of her senior year, 5 am. Morgana Felicity Avingone, or Morgan for short, had turned 18 just a week earlier and awoke in a drowsy state that normally accompanies 5am. It was still warm out and as she stretched attempting to open her eyes to greet the morning sun, her pajamas pulled against her supple young body. She smiled, knowing what day it was and turning off the alarm that she so gently arose to. It was time for a quick swim before school. It always woke her up that much quicker. 

Morgan was the single daughter of Michael and Mary Avingone, a French/Mediterranean descent 3rd generation American family, whom were of old money, and made lucky choices in the stocks for placing their money. She had slipped out of her bed, pajamas and into her suit quickly, sliding down to the fitness level of the dormitory. Her fitting one piece bathing suit showed off her body well, and rubbed lightly under her knee length robe, it was the tightest piece of clothing that she had. It was always a little cooler in the dorms at night, the headmistress saw to that, keeping the dorms well maintained with an expensive environmental system. No matter what time of year it was it was always 63 degrees at night and 72 degrees during the day. Morgan's parents were well to do in the community and in life, and had sent her away to the same boarding school her mother had attended, which happened to be located in northern New Jersey. As her classmates slept in their beds ticking off the few more moments they had until their own alarms would go off, Morgan quietly crept past them down the stairs to the pool outside. She always said a little prayer of thanks for being there as she past them.

100 quick laps before she had to be at morning service and meal. Morgan loved to swim, almost as much as she loved to pray. Her parents had seen to her having a good fitness program every day of her life since she started swimming back when she was 4 years old. They also saw to her modesty, morals and beliefs to be in line with the highest catholic standards; Questioningly tolerant, silently bigotus, and unquestioningly modest. They were reinforced by her daily services at boarding school, only to be refreshed by Morgan's own resolve. She dove into the water as she does every morning thinking to herself the Hail Mary.

She would repeat the Hail Mary and the Lord's Prayer every morning and had done so since she first discovered her body. Morgan was both prideful of her looks and ashamed of the lust that escaped from between her legs every night. Like clockwork, since she was old enough to realize she was female, she masturbated nightly, woke every morning at 5am and swam her repentance for the previous night's sin. Every night she would succumb to her body's lust, dipping her fingers past the point of no return that was the elastic of her waist band, past the forest of her dark mound of pussy hair, and diving into the burning, soaked flesh that was her pussy. Morgan tried as she could to quell the scorpion of her sex, but every night when she was alone it would return to torment her to sleep. So ashamed of herself, she would always bite the pillows, her tongue, her lip anything she could find, to stiffel her moans from her roommate, as she could never let it escape that her closeness to god was tainted by the sin of lust.

Each stroke in the morning, the water's caress against her skin, as she prayed into her blue confessional, would remind her of how she fell into the devil's grip the night before. As soon as she would close the door to her small room, she would pull at the firm nipples atop her full heaving breasts, caress her soft taught skin, and bite at her tongue to stifle her whorish moans. Morgan pushed faster into the water, as she felt herself being turned on yet again by the thoughts that coursed through her mind. Screaming into the water "Hail MARY FULL OF GRACE...*gasp*... THE LORD IS WITH YOU...*gasp*... BLESSED ART THOU..." but it went on like this until she began to loose count of her strokes, her laps, even the time she spent in the water. Her thoughts were torn between the pleasure she gave herself and her self-inflicted modesty. Night after night she would wet the sheets of her bed by orgasming over and over again until her lust was satiated by exhaustion, fingering her flaming cunt for two sometimes three hours a night, and spending the morning in repentance with her the pool and God. 

"GIVE US THIS DAY... ooohhhhhhhh...." She moaned as she came, the water's fast flow stimulating her clit just enough despite the bathing suit and thick hair that surrounded her denied sex. She tried to catch her breath but the waves of pleasure were washing against her as her own current caught up to her and washed against her back.

"Morgan, don't be late for early bell now it's nearly 6am, you still got to eat breakfast!" "Thanks Delilah, I'm done now..." Morgan hadn't noticed that she had swam nearly 3 kilometers this morning in her feverent rush. Pulling herself out of the pool, her toned legs carried her well back up to her room where she showered and put on her uniform for school. The sounds of alarms had invaded the stone walls to her room as he pulled up the white cotton panties over her still burning pussy, trying desperately to ignore it's cries to be touched. The broad fabric C cups of her bra pulled her breasts tightly back against her chest, pushing her erect nipples back into her own soft flesh. Firm and taut, it slightly pained her every time she put the bra on, but pain she felt was just a part of her redemption. Over that her blouse and stockings came, covering more of her shapely body, so young and already so fit. Next came the long skirt and penny loafer shoes. She particularly liked the skirt, and prided herself for how long and thick the material was, every year she sought the longest heaviest material, and even one year lengthened her skirt to cover up her legs. It always came past down to the mid calf, and unruffled it was nearly a full meter and a half of material. It hid her figure well. As Morgan sat before her mirror braiding her long dark hair back into it's familiar thick ponytail, she smiled at herself, smiling at her modest appearance and her lack of need for makeup. Her morning routine had finally calmed the familiar cries of sexual gratification she so scorned in her life, and she happily came down the stairs to the kitchen where mother superior and the other girls were finishing breakfast.

"You did it again didn't you Morgan?"

"Shush you, I won't dare speak of it."

"Oh I heard you last night..." 

"Delilah, you didn't!" Morgan exclaimed, blessing herself with the sign of the cross as she began to dive herself back into prayer.

"Oh will you stop it morgan, I didn't hear anything. I don't know what it is your hiding, but whatever it is I hope it's worth all the praying and laps in the pool."

"Now that's just not nice, you know I like my privacy." Morgan looked up at her friend with disdain. To everyone observing it was directed towards her friend's petty joke. To Morgan it was directed to a more local target.

"I know I know." Delilah had taken a quick bite of her dry toast and smiled towards her best friend. Delilah and Morgan had met only when each had come to stay at the boarding school. They were the best of friends, but you could never have more polar opposites. Delilah's short red hair always had too much product in it, enough to impale small birds and insects, which found attraction in the chemically induced sweet scent. Despite the myriad of punishments and penances that Delilah had to undergo, she still was a wild child at heart. Speaking her mind about all sorts of subjects, openly questioning the doctrine of the church; the Headmistress thought it would be a good idea to have her room with the most devout of young ladies, and thus Morgan and Delilah became good friends.

It would be their influence on one another that would change their lives forever. 

"So I'm sneaking out tonight and I want you to come."

"Delilah, No! You know we aren't allowed out of the dorms without a chaperone."

"Yeah but this time I've got a full proof plan, we will be back before anyone notices." 

"We can't sneak out after 10pm bed check, that's just lying."

"Oh so you are a quick one aren't you, and here I was thinking you didn't have a mind for this sort of thing."

"Delilah, stop it. I won't go through with it." One of the nuns walked by with her watchful eye gazing over the two young ladies, Delilah smiled and curtsied a bit in her seat. She loved so to incite the suspicions of the women she called their 'captures.' 

"Listen, it's for our own good, how can we know what the true path of God is if we don't try a little bit of everything."

"Because it's wrong, Delilah, and doing bad things leads to a life of sin and away from God."

"But, God gave us free will didn't he?"

"Yes," Morgan felt her friend was right, but sipped her unsweetened black tea with closed eyes.

"And it's God's will to exercise that free will, right?"

"Yes..., what's your point."

"My point is that it's not much of a free willed choice if we don't know all the choices we have."

"I'm not breaking any rules though, the semester just started." Morgan and Delilah sat in silence for a few moments, as Priest Joseph Guarda, a traveling missionary from a third world country approached the pulpit, to welcome the students to a new year of school

"I didn't want to have to do this to you, but you leave me no choice then." Delilah leaned in closer to her friend, her warm breath washing over Morgan's ear. Everyone else had already stood up, at the request of Priest Guarda, but as Morgan attempted to rise with her fellow students a soft hand from her best friend landed on her thigh pinning her to the seat.

"If you don't I'll tell the head mistress that you've been ever so distressed every night that you lock yourself up and don't come out till morning."

Morgan could feel her pussy soak right into her panties, a wetness that wouldn't fade during the day unless she took action soon. She secretly cursed herself but knew she had to give in, and get away from Delilah soon. The hand on her thigh felt so wrong, her confusions came rushing back to her, and she panicked for a way to stop the ocean of lust that was being guided by doubt's controlling staff. "Alright... I'll do it... but if we get in trouble I'm going to say you threatened me, and so help me we won't be friends any more... " Morgan bit her lip, and Delilah knew that all it ever took to get Morgan past her doubts was just the slightest little touch.

The two quickly stood and joined the rest of the congregation in the Lord's Prayer.

***

As soon as the morning meal's prayer was finished, Morgan quickly stole away from everyone else and locked herself I the bathroom. Her cunt was burning with desire, and she knew she wouldn't be able to get through the day. Hiking up the heavy material of her skirt, and not even wasting the time to sit nor pull her panties down neatly, she thrust the material aside and shoved three fingers past the fur that surrounded her twat. Fingering herself furiously, her young deft hands had not taken the time to find their way to her clit, but instead were pistoning in and out of her throbbing hole, the hair around her pussy matted with the wetness from the initial gush.

Morgan's teeth were pressing into her tongue this time, she needed pain to stifle the moans. She bit fairly hard, trying to keep herself from giving in completely to her lust. Her fingers were soaked, and the small puddle beneath her spread legs as she held herself up on the wall of the bathroom stall was growing. Each drop, fell away from her as did her resolve. A tear ran down her cheek as she could hear herself release throaty whorish moans, her fingers moving rapidly within her milking her cunt for all the sex it could deliver. She looked up at the florescent light in the ceiling, throwing herself into the pain of her lips and the stretching that her fingers so roughly forced into her caused. 

Her eyes welled with tears as she thanked God for her orgasm, expanding the puddle at her feet and soaking her socks down to her penny loafers as her wetness trailed down her leggings. Then she cursed herself and begged for forgiveness as she fell upon her knees, knowing she had succumbed to the lust yet again. The heavy cotton of her skirt sopped up some of the cum she had just covered the floor in and her hands did nothing but direct the tears from her eyes to her blouse. Pulling her hands away from her sobbing eyes she realized her fingers were covered in blood and the tears began again. 

"I'm nothing more than a heathen." She sobbed to herself in the mirror trying to wash the red spots away from her hands, tears mixing with the water washing her sins away. 

It was around this time that the Gym Teacher, a Miss Argento, whom everyone called Miss A for short had overheard the sobbing coming from the wash room. It was about an hour before her first class of the day, and Miss A had plenty of time before she needed to be there, so she investigated. Miss A opened the door to see Morgan frantically washing her hands in the sink, seeing the last remnants of red wash down the drain.

"Is everything ok, Morgan?"

"Everything is just fine Coach A. I just had a little cut that's all."

"Well let me see, I can't have my star swimmer injured now, or out of the lists at the beginning of the season because of an infection." Morgan thought about it and wiped her face again, raising her right hand to her coach's eye level. "See it's already closed up, it was just a little scratch."

"That was a lot of blood to be just a little scratch." Miss A, knew Morgan's body well, she had made sure to keep it in top shape for four years. She looked over the hand and held it up with a little smile, knowing that something was still amiss. As Morgan took her hand back, Miss A noticed the small puddle on the floor and the red that seemed mixed with the clear liquid, "Are you having womanly issues."

"Yes, that's it Coach A, you caught me." Morgan tried to smile, which wasn't too had since her coach just gave her the excuse she needed to hide her secret. "My period just started, and I wasn't ready for it, I kinda freaked out. You know I hate the sight of blood."

"Well, if you don't have a pad come by my office and I'll be more than happy to give you one, ok, I'll let you finish up here and I'll let maintenance know they need to clean the floor. Nothing to worry about, it's not a Cardinal Sin to have a little loss of self control sometimes."

"Ok, Coach, but I've got plenty back at my dorm. Thank, you." Morgan punctuated it with a smile, trying to hide her shame at nearly being caught. As Miss A left the room, Morgan had already begun chastising herself, cursing her vagina, and wishing she hadn't been born. It was like this almost every day. As soon as she was turned on, even in the slightest she would have to run away to the bathroom or somewhere private and get it back under control. She hated herself for it and continued to curse herself as she snuck back to her dorm room, trying to keep from the noticing eye of her class mates. 

"Dammit, Dammit, DAMMIT" She spoke aloud sitting at her desk in the room. She locked herself back in the tiny bedroom and removed her soiled clothes. Sitting naked on her bed she began to sob once more. Morgan felt she hadn't been punished enough, and that Miss A's near discovery of her secret was a sign from God that she was too careless again. She had to be punished once more, or the demon may escape again. She slowly opened the drawer of her night table, and removed a 15 inch, metric and standard, old wooden ruler. She held it in her hands as an Athame to a Priestess, for it held just as much power.

Whenever Morgan slipped up, or was almost discovered, she felt she needed to be punished, corporally. She always felt it was in addition to the penance she served every morning, the good grades she fought so hard for, and her skill at swimming, all things she did to serve God better. Delilah's teasing earlier that morning had already made her consider the additional punishment, but Miss A's intrusion closed the deal. "Ten swats, for my weakness."

Stripping back to the nude, she released her breasts from their prison, and stood wearing only the dark hair on her head, still back behind her in a long thick pony tail, the hair over her vagina, the leggings over her mid thigh, and the penny loafers at her feet. Morgan made sure to lock the door, and sat on the edge of her bed, spreading her thighs wide. She had found a small bundled pair of socks and placed it between her teeth as she looked at herself in the mirror across from her bed and then up to the crucifix over that. The first swat of the ruler came down across her thigh.

"One, forgive me God." She moaned into the sock, tears welling up in her eyes once more, as she had felt her breasts and pussy swell with the sight of her own naked body. The pain flooded out from the strike to her thigh, and she knew the redness would dissipate by the time she had practice that evening. 

"TWO, forgive me God." The next swat came again, and she stared at her body, ashamed of her lack of control as she watched her pussy flood the sheets beneath her again. The thick bush from before beginning to show signs of catching the fluid that flowed from the lips between her legs. 

"Three, Forgive me God." Another moan and another flood, two swats to either thigh, and now a swat to her near perfect left breast. The pain radiating out, cleared her mind of the lust, as her nipples were straining against her chest, they were so hard.

"Four, forgive Me God." She slapped the long ruler to her other breast, breathing heavily now, as her pulse rocketed up another notch. Her focus was intense and she thought the look of herself in the mirror was begging for the lust to leave her. Morgan didn't realize her eyes were begging for the next swat. 

Her gaze broke with it'self as her eyes rolled back into her head, moaning into the sock gag, "Five, forgive me LORD." The latest attack was against her taut abs, as her pussy soaked and her heavy breaths drew her nipples against the cool air of the tiny bedroom. The crisp forced air was a gentle caress against her engorged tits, as the next swat came down across her clit, sending Morgan into a pain spiral, her mind mixing all of her thoughts into one pleasurable moment that streaked tears from her eyes, moans from her throat, and a forceful gush from her sex.

"Six, FORGIVE ME LORD!" She finally mustered past her tears as she dropped the gag from her mouth and drew deeply into her breath. Her holy relic, came down across her clit once again. So distressed from her deep rooted confusion, Morgan slid to her knees before the mirror, looking at the whore that lived within her body. Morgan couldn't have possibly realized that with each slap of the ruler she wasn't exorcising the harlot demon she thought she was, she was bringing herself to orgasm each time. The carpet, bed sheets, shower stalls, toilet bowls, and serenely clean water of the pool, had always taken pity upon her and hid well the evidence of her body's pleasure at her pain.

Incoherently, she continued to orgasm, taking every last ounce of her will to stifle the moans that escaped her throat. Morgan kept them held within her cheeks, as the tears reached her swelling breasts, red from the onslaught, just passing by on their way to her thighs, which of course were still sensitive to the touch from their chastisement. Ten, forceful orgasms in quick succession, and her body could take no more, she felt her sex satiated finally, and crawl away from her mind. 

Catching her breath Morgan stood up and undid the ponytail, beginning to brush it out, as she glanced at the clock. "Fifteen minutes till class... I'd ... better get... ready..." She continued to pant as she brushed out the long dark hair that was wet with sweat. She picked up the ruler, lying dormant on the floor by the round wet patch of carpet where she had disciplined herself and re-placed it in the drawer, accompanied by only two other objects. A small black book and a silver and gold pen. She picked the two up, both were going away presents from her mother and father, for her to write down the experiences she had at Boarding school. Instead were a column for dates, a column for times, and a column for a number. Each in sequence one after the other. She flipped through the pages until she found the entry from only two weeks prior, and began to write beneath it. 




The Good Girl



"September 5th 2008, 8:45am, 10" had found its self beneath, a lengthy string of comparable entries.

Now that you have taken the time to read the story, won't you please take a moment more to vote, and leave a comment. I love to hear feedback both positive and negative, and the more feedback I get the more I write. Thank you for reading this.



The Good Girl



I am a good girl. 

I have almost always tried to be a good girl. 

My father is a strong, certain, proper man who lives to be right with God in all things. I have strived all my life to be that way. But, as I have gotten older and moved away from home I have found that I can only really be a good girl when I'm in the presence of those that are perfect. Or those that think they are perfect. Underneath I am the world's largest sinner. 

Ok. That may be an exaggeration. But my point is the same. I love to fuck. There, I said it. I LOVE TO FUCK. I laugh as I write this and get kind of tingly all at the same time. I live the proper life and go to the proper places. But when my family isn't looking I like to go out and really get some fun. 

There is a bar done the street that has decent music and good liquor. The men aren't that bad to look at either. There's one man in particular that I like to play with. He's tall, dark and while not the most adorable he certainly makes up for that in other areas. I knew he was a single dad and that I don't normally get to take him home. But then again, I can always find another when he's not around. 

Last night I went down to the bar to hear some jazz and to see what was out there. David, that's tall & dark's name, was leaning on the bar surveying the room when I walked in. I, of course, pretended not to notice him there and went to sit at a table on the other side of the room. One of the girls came by and I ordered a drink. While the band began to play a softer number I picked at the label of my bottle and tried to look bored. But really I was thinking about David. His hot, hard hands lifting me and feeling me. His mouth was all everywhere in my minds eye. I was beginning to get hot and wet. My face must have shown some of what I was thinking. 

After a few minutes of working myself up I looked up to notice that he was watching me. I sent him a smile and he crooked his finger. Well, I did say I wasn't a good girl when no one was watching... So I went over and leaned right into him. You could tell he was taken a bit by surprise at first when I kissed him full on the mouth. It only took a fraction of a second for him to respond. His mouth opened and I felt his tongue tangle with mine. His hands wrapped around my bottom and lifted me so that I was flush against him. I could feel his manhood throbbing against my leg. He let go of my mouth long enough to catch my ear in his teeth and whisper a suggestion to me. 

I unwrapped my arms from around his neck and walked out the front door. He came out only seconds later and pulled me to him again. He hands roamed every inch of me and his mouth ravaged mine for what seemed like hours. He had a conversion van, his family vehicle, in the parking lot. Given the last seat in that van folded down to make a fairly comfy "bed" I wasn't going to complain. David pulled me in the direction of the van and all but pushed me inside. I don't mind a bit of rough play so when he grabbed my arm and shoved me toward the back it just made me even hotter. 

By this point I was ready to explode. I was pushed onto the "bed". He pulled at my top until the buttons gave way, some of them coming off altogether and flying around the confined space. His mouth immediately descended on my nipple. I could feel his teeth and tongue torturing the bud until I was crying out and begging for release. Instead he simply switched and gave the same treatment to the other side. I was squirming and crying out. My body felt like it was on fire and there was nothing I could do to stop it. His mouth left my breast and began making a journey south while he continued to hold my arms down on the seat. 

I could hear his mouth making sucking noises and feel each corresponding tug on my flesh. I was in a frenzy and couldn't even understand the sounds coming out of my own mouth. His tongue circled into my belly button and I felt my whole body buck under him. David smiled against my flesh and let go of my wrists in order to move lower still. I bunched my hands in his hair and my mind registered the feel of his clothes against my skin. I hadn't even realized that I alone was naked. My skirt raked up to my hips and nothing else covering me. 

Just as this realization dawned on me my mind again shut down and my body bucked up. His mouth had covered my most sensitive area. My hands pulled his head as deep into me as I could make him and his tongue laved at my folds. He knew what I liked and he worked his tongue in and out of me like I was his to have. As I grew more and more incoherent he licked and laved more and more until finally he bit down hard on my nub. I screamed at the top of my lungs and came in a rush. My body jerked and I felt David licking and sucking at the juices emitting from my body. 

He leaned back from me and began to strip off his clothes. I saw him but could hardly register that he wasn't done with me. I had cum so hard and my body was still singing and tingling with pleasure. It was then I opened my eyes again and realized he was nearly naked and was leaning into me again. This time when he took my mouth I could taste myself on him and my body began to respond again. 

He held my arms down again and suddenly pushed himself into me. The roughness of the intrusion made me cry out again but then he began to move and even though I was being held down by his hands and his body I could feel myself tensing again. He reached down and took my nipple in his mouth again. This time biting down on the nipple and I could feel the pain of it. His hips pumped into me faster and I ached to move against him but knew that he was holding me down for his own pleasure. He released my nipple and flexed upward to drive even further into my pliant flesh. 

I came again in a sudden rush. My hips meeting his thrust for thrust and my body milking him over and over. I could feel him tense as my body let go and then he was filling me. I could feel each jet filling me to my core. With a groan he fell down on top of me and bit my shoulder as he finished. As he lay on top of me I felt myself smile. 

It felt so good... not being a good girl.