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Hush

By: jennygrrl



He stood in the long corridor outside of the entrance to the bathroom. It had been a long time since he had been here, but every detail seemed to be etched into his memory. The tile had been hand picked, carved in India; its detail played beautifully, swirling rose and ivory marble. The fixtures were gold, glimmering in the half-light of the room. An enormous bath tub took up one end, octagonal in shape, edged with more ivory tile. In the center of the room was a vast walk-in shower, it was there that his gaze stopped. 

His gasp came sharply when as he looked through the smoky glass to survey the very masculine silhouette he had been hunting. Explaining his sudden presence here would take hours, but all the trouble he had gone to would be worth it. Just looking at him, even without seeing his face was like looking at a work of art; his art, his creation, his child fledgling.

He edged himself into the bathroom quietly. The sound of the gushing water covered up any noise giving him some relief. Armand's preternatural senses were always good; Marius quietly begged whatever god was listening that he wouldn't be heard. His mind raced and his heart thundered as he slowly began to undress. His clothing fell quietly to the floor, piece by piece, sending a soft warm rush around his lean naked frame. He had worn little that night, hoping to find this peaceful interlude with his angel. Standing there, absolutely nude, he took a deep breath and continued on his path. 

The large mirror spanning the wall caught Marius' eyes as he studied his own body while he walked. Nothing about him had changed in the time that had separated them. His hair was the still pale yellow that Armand had always enjoyed. His eyes were still a cold and icy blue. Without looking away, he continued his journey towards the shower with featherlike footfalls. 

He stood merely inches away from his Immortal Beloved, sheathed under a heavy torrent of water. The humidity clung to Marius' frame so thick he could barely breathe, but he lingered in it with mounting desire. It was then that he heard the distressing sound, the resonance that pushed away him away from his enjoyment and replaced it with pain: Armand stood but inches from him, crying. 

Slowly he reached out for the handle. The gold fixture was cold to the touch, even for the warmth of the bathroom, as he pulled against the latch. The door swung open smoothly, and released a cloud of warm, wet air. Armand's body spun around towards him in an instant, ready to attack or defend. He had pictured this scene with his fledgling a hundred times before; each image he'd envisioned was beautiful, but none could compare to seeing his Russian lover once again. 

Before beginning his descent to the shower, Marius had settled on offering Armand a smile in the form of a greeting. With his mind already made up, Marius looked up at him through the steam, and flashed a centuries old grin to set his boy at ease. He stood absolutely still, like a statue frozen in time, and then drew the door closed behind him. Blood tears still covered Armand's face, along with the look of shock and surprise. Marius reached out gently, stoking one tears path, and tilted his head to watch him. His eyes met Armand's with love; Armand's met his with pain.

"Amadeo," he spoke, "my beautiful angel. I have missed you." The sound of it filled the close space between them, echoing off the walls with a slightly Latin resonance. "Please don't cry." 

Marius slowly reached out to touch Armand's sloping shoulder. He moved his hand down the length of him to his hip, spreading his fingers gingerly to wrap around Armand's marble-like flesh. Softly he began kneading it, bringing the other hand to rest on the opposite side, reaching to pull him into his embrace. Armand had yet to pull away, so he drew him closer until Armand's body was pressed tightly against him, breast to breast. 

The stark white color of Armand's skin indicated he hadn't fed. It looked to him that it had been a considerable time since he had taken blood. Marius moved his hand to his chest and stood back for a second, letting the water wash over him. He doused his hair, running his fingers through it, to pull it out of his face and back over his shoulders. When he stepped back to him the only thing that separated their bodies was a thin veil of water clinging desperately between them. 

He wrapped his arm around Armand's back as he slowly sank towards him into the mist. Armand's tears were streaming down his face once again; pain contorted his gorgeous face, wrenching Marius' heart. He called out to him again, as if from a dream, "Armand, please. Hush, now." His words were soothing, softly spoken lullabies in the night. "You don't have to be alone, my suffering predator, my untamed hunter. I told you once that you never should be. I know your ache, my love, I can feel it, I can feel it right here inside me," he paused for a moment, touching his own skin. "But I promise you Amadeo, it will be alright. Everything will be alright, Angelo. Hush."

He stood back to watch his child's eyes. Armand had yet to speak, but his features gave all the truth away. Marius signed audibly, watching Armand carefully and lovingly as he spoke the thought into the small space between them, "The Vampire Armand with the auburn hair chasing against the water, rolling down his cherub face. How beautiful he is and always was." Marius breathed in as he finished his words while Armand blinked the tears and water from his face and fought to swallow the lump in his throat. A hoarse and ragged groan escaped him as he stepped back wiping at his face. 

Suspicion and question fluttered angrily across his features. "What are you doing here?" 

"You're starving Armand," Marius spoke gently with the temperate rushing water cascading over both. He reached out for his hand, wound his still warm fingers over Armand's and pulled him towards his neck in one violent thrust. Marius' neck bent to the side, using his force to overcome Armand's straining as his pushed his fledgling roughly against his collarbone. "Drink," he commanded sharply. 

Armand thrust back against him in defiance. "No, I won't. You have no control over me now." He turned and twisted in his Master's arms, held tightly at the wrists, grunting with frustration.

"You deny me so quickly Angelo, but I know what you want. I can smell it, I can breathe it in the desire is so thick in you, the need so great. What do you want Armand, tell me." 

The fight in Armand's spirit kicked into overdrive as he lashed out catching Marius off-guard for a moment, long enough for him to pry one hand free. The minute his hand was free he began striking Marius as hard as he could, his one fist flying with fury, with all the pain and anger of the ages of betrayal. Marius stood firm against each blow, leaning against the wall of the shower for support, until his fledgling slumped against him almost utterly spent. The lack of blood had made him weaker than he should have been; the sudden burst of energy used to break free had left him frail and panting. Everything had left him sobbing uncontrollably against Marius' chest. 

Marius dropped his hand down to Armand's face and cupped his chin, pulling his tear-stained eyes up to meet his. "There will be time for explanations, Angelo. I promise you this. There will be time for all of it; for you to yell at me, hit me, whatever it is that you want. Right now love, you need to feed. Please, let me feed you. Please." 

Armand looked at his maker with abandon. He shut his eyes as the water beat over both of them and took in a deep long breath, holding it for too long. He let it out in a short burst, wound his hands behind Marius' back and pulled Marius to him with a roar. His fangs sunk deep into his neck causing Marius to cry out with a soft scream as Armand began to draw. The blood flowed into him swiftly in thick hot bursts. Armand let his tongue lash out between his sharp teeth, lapping at the sweet enticing essence of his Master and one true love. The groan that escaped him was hungry and feral. Marius cried softly once more, letting his arms tenderly stroke Armand's spine from waist to hip with the slickness of the water coating his skin. The sensation, the familiar warmth, the seemingly unending draw was almost too much for both of them. In that one instant they shared a heartbeat, they breathed for one another and for no one else, they were a solitary being, sharing mind, body, and soul.

Finally Armand seemed mollified, letting Marius go sending him slumping back against the wall. Blood trickled down Armand's chin and his tongue darted out to lap it up. Armand threw his head back and laughed loudly, an angry, menacing laugh that Marius had only heard once before, as he hurriedly released his Master. Armand suddenly began shaking with tears again, dropping to his knees in front of Marius, shoulders hunching with mournful shudders. He slipped his wet arms around Marius' back and buried his head against the pit of his maker's stomach.

Marius stood against the back wall of the shower, weakly holding Armand to his cooling body. They both had been affected by the draw, yet Marius still willed himself to stand and hold Armand. Armand's blood tears were streaming down his abdomen, making beautiful red pathways along his ashen skin. He looked down at him and met his eyes; the pain looked more real than it had when he first saw him. 

"Please," Armand whispered. "Please forgive me. I know why you've come. I understand now. I just…" He trailed off returning his face back to the warmth of his Master's stomach as Marius ran his fingers through his wet auburn curls. 

"Amadeo," he spoke again, slurring the name. "Please, let us lie down with one another. I'm not sure how much longer I can stand here."

Armand looked up at Marius once more and struggling to his feet turned off the water. Without hesitation Armand dragged him into his arms and out of the shower. He wrapped a large white cotton towel around Marius' hips as he pulled him towards to the bedroom. 

Marius shut his eyes for a few minutes, regaining his strength, and breathing in the familiar scent of his fledgling's home. Armand slid beside him on the bed in the room that had been shrouded in black linens, and sat back watching Marius' face. He wanted so badly to reach out and be sure that his Master was real, that this wasn't yet another dream. Quietly he sighed into the dark.

"Touch me Armand," Marius spoke as he opened his eyes to face his dark angel. "I know what you're thinking Amadeo. Touch me." His words were soft, erotic and inviting. With unsure hands, Armand reached out to him and put two fingers to his maker's lips. 

"Angelo," he moaned against his fingertips. "My Botticelli, my stunning Botticelli artwork, carved here in this flesh, in this life." 

If he had had the tears to weep again, Armand may have done so, but instead he drew his lips down to meet Marius'. The feather light stroke of them made them both whimper, forcing them into a deeper kiss. The second Armand's tongue reached out to part Marius' lips, a gasp of nearly deafening proportions escaped Marius and he lay under his fledgling quivering. Everything he had thought of imagined for so long became tangible in that moment. His fingers reached up and wrapped roughly in Armand's hair, pulling him as much into the kiss as he could possibly be, tasting his blood-tainted saliva. 

Armand pulled back and Marius' eyelids flew open with a newborn fear. "No, don't stop," he pleaded breathlessly. 

"I just want to look at you; I just want to be sure that you're here this time and that you're not a fantasy."

Marius reached up and ran his fingertips over Armand's brow, around his cupid-bow lips, behind his ear to smooth back his now dried hair, and then back over his neck. The flesh left behind tale-tell signs that the affection was needed, as Armand took his turn to shut his eyes. "I am here with you. I'm sorry I ever left. I promise to you, here and now in this instant that I will make it up to you. When I'm done making it up to you, I'll do everything again, just to show you how truly sorry I am."

Armand's movements were impelled by preternatural speed and before Marius could speak another word, his fledgling lay on top of his long, flat body, holding Marius' arms against the bed, kissing him ferociously. A slow growl radiated from Armand's chest as he released Marius' captured lips and bit hard into the flesh. Blood flowed down Marius chin as he bucked his hips against Armand's invasion, but his vampiric lover held him tight. Armand suckled the blood, drawing it from Marius in searing mouthfuls, his hands moving up his arms towards his shoulders. Marius moaned as he watched with eyes-wide as Armand continued his urgent display.

Armand released Marius' lip and arms at the same time, raking his long sharp fingernails across Marius' bare chest in two sweeping motions. The reddened welted pathways trickled with tiny droplets of blood and Armand's mouth swooped down graciously to accept every one. "Bleed for me," he nearly hissed, caught up in all he was doing, in all that he was.

Marius arched himself from the bed with the feeling of his fledgling's hot mouth against his chest. "My blood is your blood Amadeo, drink it in," he panted, helplessly underneath him. His cherub's long auburn tresses followed behind the trail his lips made, smearing blood into them which Marius hungrily sought to recapture suckling on the ends of each curl. The sounds of each vampire's desire echoed around the room, bouncing off the fixtures, settling into their own ears.

"I need you Marius, I've always needed you," he moaned. "Give me what I want, and never leave me again!" The words were spoken as more command than request. Marius smiled up at this angel, his dark angel and fought to touch his face softly. "I surrender to you, Amadeo. You have conquered me."

Shades of orange began creeping into the once dark sky. The sun had started its climb into the day, bringing a sleep that only death could match. Marius looked up at Armand's face, still so young, as he became wearier with each passing instant. "You must sleep now my love."

Armand's face gave witness to his protest. With a show of his own strength, Marius rolled his fledgling underneath him, so he lay pressed against the bed, cradled in his arms. "I won't hear any disapproval, Angelo. There are some things that just can't be argued with." 

Armand shuddered with the speed and agility of his Master, capturing the softness of Marius' hair in his hands once he was settled underneath him. "I'm afraid to close my eyes. I'm afraid when I wake I'll be all alone again. You have no idea what it's like to wake to the smell of you, like something remembered only to cruelly find you missing. You have no idea what it's like to see remnants of old clothing that once clung to your form, and search each piece pitifully for the smell of you, the taste of you. You have no idea how painful it is, my Roman god, to feel you brushing against me in the dark, and find that you were never ever there." With the last thought, Armand's words slurred and soon sleep would overcome.

"Hush now, Angelo. I will be here when you wake. I promise you. When you wake I will fill each one of your senses, remake them into my own, and I will never leave your side until you are absolutely sick of me," Marius chuckled atop of him and they both smiled together, then Armand drowned into a peaceful slumber.

[Thank you for reading! Please vote or comment if you enjoyed the story. -smiling-]

Hush



An icy wind whips around my legs, briefly lifting my coat and exposing my nearly naked ass to the neighbors, as I step in your door. "I'm sorry it took so long for me to get here," I try to explain, "I got held up by a—"

"Hush," you say softly, pressing a finger to my lips. My mind goes completely blank. "I...uh..." I stammer.

"Hush," you say forcefully, pressing your hand over my mouth. "Now, strip."

Knowing better than to try and dissuade you from my punishment, I open my coat to reveal the skin-tight see-through black lace camisole and matching thong panties you ordered me to wear on the drive over. I pull the thin straps of the camisole over my arms, and shimmy it down my waist. I pause for a moment, unsure of whether to hook my thumbs into the panties and take them off with the camisole. "Should I..." I begin, then immediately regret my words.

"I said, HUSH," you say, grabbing my hair and yanking my head back with one hand while roughly pulling both camisole and panties down to my knees. "I can see you need help with that. Turn around and assume the position," you say with quiet force, releasing my hair with a jerk to my right,

Trembling now, I turn around, spread my legs wide, and bend over at the waist, with my fingers laced behind my neck, my back arched up, my shoulders down and back and my chest thrust forward. I brace for the blows I expect you will deliver to my ass. Instead, you drag your fingernails across my ass from my hips inward, then rake them around to grab my ass cheeks and split them open, fingernails digging perilously close to my tight asshole. I gasp in both pain and need as you spit on my asshole, anticipating either your finger or your cock entering it. To my surprise and frustration, you do neither, releasing my ass, your spit trickling down my inner thigh.

"I said strip. If I have to help you obey me again, your punishment will be more severe than the one I've already planned," you warn through clenched teeth.

I quickly pull the camisole and panties from my knees to my feet, bending deeply and keeping my legs straight and spread wide, hoping that exposing my pussy—slick with wanting you—will make up for at least some of your disappointment in me. I lift both stiletto-clad feet out of my clothing, grasp one piece in each hand, and reach around my back to hand it to you. I then resume my previous position, wrists crossed just above my ass.

"Good girl," you say, grabbing my panties in one hand and my hair in another, dragging my body by my hair up and around to face you. I open my mouth to cry out; you stuff my panties in my mouth. Then you reach for the roll of duct tape on the arm of the nearby leather loveseat, tear off a length, press it firmly over my mouth, and slap the camisole out of my hand. "Now, HUSH." 

You grab each of my nipples between a thumb and forefinger and pull me over my discarded camisole toward the bathroom. Once there, you move behind me and grab my ass, fingernails digging underneath my cheeks and push me over the threshold. Stretching your arm around my ribcage underneath my tits, you lift me off my feet and kick each shoe off, then set me down in front of the bathtub. I can feel the heat of the water from where I'm standing, and see steam rising off its surface.

"Get in, you filthy whore," you sneer. I know the water will be hot—too hot—but I obey, knowing that if I don't, the consequences will be much worse. The water singes my skin as I step in and crouch down, lowering myself into the searing water as slowly as I dare. 

"Stay," you bark as soon as I'm submerged. You leave the room for a minute, then return with the roll of duct tape. You wrap my wrists together, then raise my hands over my head and secure them to the wall of the tub surround. "Feet up and apart," you command. I obey. You dry each foot roughly with a coarse towel, then place each one flat on the cold tile, as high and wide apart as my legs will go, wrapping the duct tape around each ankle and crossing over each instep, long lengths of duct tape securing it to the tub surround, then again around each instep and back behind each heel, to keep my feet firmly fixed and motionless and my legs up and open wide.

The heat of the tub and the cold of the tile cause me to begin shivering. My nipples raise and harden. You reach into the water and pinch and roll them. I begin to moan in pleasure, and you pinch them hard and painfully. "Hush," you whisper fiercely. I now understand that I am to make no noise whatsoever, no matter what. I silently resolve to please you.

You begin stroking my clit. I clench my jaw and take quick shallow breaths to stifle any sounds of pleasure. You alternate between my pussy and my tits, pinching, rubbing, squeezing, fondling, but I make no sound except that of my breath, which I try to quiet by taking slow, deep breaths. "Good girl," you purr, which heightens my arousal.

Suddenly, you thrust three fingers into my pussy and spread them, stretching me open and allowing the still-steaming water into my cunt. I breathe in sharply in pain and pleasure, and you pinch my nose closed, looking me steadily in the eyes. "Be my good girl and acknowledge that I control every part of you." Panicked, but trying desperately not to show it, I nod, closing my eyes and surrendering my very consciousness to you. "Oh, yes..." you whisper, "very good." I beam with pleasure, waiting for you to send me into darkness. But as my breathing is withheld, my body betrays me and starts to struggle. I look deep into your eyes, begging you to forgive the involuntary actions of my body. You release me, allow me to take a few deep gasps of fresh air, then pinch my nose closed again. "Don't worry, my pet," you soothe, "I would never truly harm you. Only control you." 

I will myself to wait, allowing my swimmer's training to calm my panic. You hold my breath for a while, then release. Hold, wait, release. I allow myself to acclimate to the rhythm you set, and begin to relax into the pattern. With your other hand, you begin fondling and finger-fucking me again, bringing me to the edge of orgasm, my hips and chest bucking up and down in the rhythm you set for my breath, my hard clit, my erect and stiff nipples. You see and feel how close I am to cumming, then stop abruptly, stand up, and begin to leave the room. I choke back a whimper as you disappear out the doorway, leaving me desperate, helpless, and vulnerable. I close my eyes and wait, my hips and chest still throbbing with need.

I hear a shrill whistle. It stops suddenly, and I hear your footsteps coming toward me. I open my eyes as you come into the bathroom. You're carrying a teapot, steam pouring out of its spout. My eyes go wide with fear...

...to be continued...



Hush



There's nothing like waking up with a full bodied woman in your arms. Of course, it probably would have been better if I'd gone to sleep with her there. 

I woke up slowly and my confusion only made it take longer to gather my thoughts. The last thing I remembered was crawling into bed alone after a long evening of studying. My suitemates had gone out and it irritated me that I had to pass up joining them, but it was crunch time for me. I blew the first rounds of tests this semester and now I had to play catch up. I hated it, but for some reason I did the same stupid shit every time.

The coed snuggled deeper into my shoulder drawing my attention back to her, not that it had wandered far. How could it? There was a girl I didn't know in my bed. She was sleeping pretty soundly and the warmth of her body felt very nice. 

I glanced around my room and saw that the door was closed and no one else was here. I wasn't really expecting anyone since I was lucky enough to get a single this year. I looked down at the coed and smiled. One of the two guys I shared the suite with had to have let her in. It could have been Fred, but I was betting on Paul. This was more his type of thing to do.

I had a good group of guys in my hall this year. There were a bunch of us who went out every weekend. The Greek system at my school was big, but I didn't end up joining a fraternity my freshman year because I went home most weekends to visit my girlfriend. That only lasted until Christmas, but by that time the fraternities had already picked their pledge classes and it was too late to rush. I'd thought about doing it this year as a sophomore, but in the end I decided against it. I wasn't in the mood to deal with the typical pledge stuff during my second year of college. Besides, I couldn't imagine ended up with a better bunch of guys then the ones on my hall, especially my suitemates Fred and Paul. 

I shifted gently to try and get a better look at the girl lying on my shoulder without waking her up. She wasn't beautiful, but that was okay. I didn't go for the beauties. They were too high maintenance. I preferred full figured sexy girls and this coed was definitely that. She had dark hair that went just past her shoulders and very nice breasts. They were covered in a shirt with the Greek letters that clearly meant she was in a sorority. 

It took me a few moments to read the letters. It might have been because of the way her chest made them curve or it might have been because I had problems focusing on the letters and not what lay beneath. Did I mention that she had very nice breasts?

In either case, I finally recognized the letter as those from the newest sorority on the campus. They only formed this past semester. I looked at the coed's face once more and frowned. There was no way that this girl went to my school and I didn't know it. 

It took me a moment, but then I remembered Fred mentioning last night that this particular sorority was having a party because there was some big national thing that was being celebrated locally. I figured that some of the sisters from other chapters of the sorority decided to stop on campus and see what our school was about. I'm sure they weren't disappointed. My school had plenty of free beer and good parties most nights. 

I tilted my head a bit more and saw that the girl's face was tan with high cheek bones. Oddly, she also had some light freckling. I never saw someone who tanned as well as she did also have freckles. They weren't very pronounced. I found it all very enticing. She might not be a raving beauty, but she was more than a little attractive. It didn't hurt that her lips were full and inviting. 

I wrestled briefly with the idea of kissing her. It didn't take long to realize that there was no way I'd pass up a chance like this. She was very close to my concept of ideal and I'd kick myself if I didn't at least kiss her. 

I shifted down on the bed and felt her begin to stir. I threw caution to the wind and took her in my arms. Her greenish-brown eyes opened briefly as our lips touched. I thought she might pull away, but instead her eyes lit up briefly before drifting closed once more. Her lips were warm and welcoming. The kiss quickly grew more passionate.

I had no idea who she was or where she came from, but my God could this girl kiss! I brushed my tongue against her lips and they parted slightly. A moment later our tongues danced in each other's mouths. I let my hands caress her wide hips and slim waist on the way to her full breasts. They were even more impressive than I thought. I groaned as I felt them through her sweatshirt. She smiled at my touch and moaned, biting her bottom lip. 

I slowly kissed my way from her lips to her neck. The brunette stopped me after a while and sat up. I thought that was the end of it, but I was wrong. I looked into her eyes and saw her desire. She seemed at least a little drunk, but then again she seemed to know exactly what she wanted. She pulled off her sweatshirt. I'm sure my own eyes grew big as she reached around herself and undid her bra. It was white and plain and not particularly provocative looking, but what it held certainly was impressive, not to mention arousing! 

The coed had an extremely sexy smile and knew it. She used it to her advantage as she let her breasts come free. She watched my expression and smiled in satisfaction as I did my best not to let my mouth literally drop open. I only succeeded partially. She teased me by lifting her full breasts enticingly. I was tempted to fall on them. She clearly expected it. Hell, she was offering them to me, but suddenly I wanted more.

I pushed the girl gently back onto the bed. Her greenish-brown eyes watched me nervously as I reached down and undid the jeans she was wearing. Her eyes grew big, but she didn't stop me from pulling off her pants. She didn't help either. Her desire was clearly fighting with her better judgment. I wasn't planning on giving the latter a chance to win. I kissed her passionately as I wrestled her pants past her hips. It wasn't easy, but that only excited me more. Her curves were so sexily!

She was tense as I took a moment to pull off my shirt. I was smart enough not to rush it more than I already had despite my desire. I leaned forward and continued to kiss her. The fact that she was completely naked now didn't escape either of our notice. Her breast felt amazing against my chest and I rested one of my hands on her hip. 

Eventually, she relaxed enough to start enjoying the kisses again. She wrapped her arms around me and thrust her tongue deep in my mouth. I could feel her hunger as it mirrored my own. We stayed like that for quite a while, until I was sure she wanted more. I once again began leaving a trail of kisses from her lips to her neck, only this time I didn't stop there. My lips followed the contours of her shoulders.

I was sorely tempted to move to her breasts, but I knew that's what she was expecting. They were too impressive not to have gained a lot of attention from the guys she dated. I wanted to surprise her and make this memorable, so I bypassed them and let my lips travel down her soft curves to her taunt stomach and wide hips. I paused there because there's something about a girl with well defined hips that gets to me. I licked and kissed them for quite a while before moving toward her center. 

The coed was definitely reacting beneath me now. Whatever hesitation she felt before was gone. I could hear her gasping in excitement every now and then, and I saw the small goose bumps that appeared as I got closer and closer to my prize. I glanced up at her. Her eyes were locked on mine. There was a need there that mirrored my own. I placed a hand on each of her knees and lifted, spreading her legs wide. I gave her a chance to squeeze them back together. Instead, she placed each of her feet on the bed and let her legs splay open. It was the perfect invitation and there was no way I was going to turn it down.

She had a neat, dark nest of hair between her legs that glistened with her obvious excitement. I kissed her soft thighs and moved my lips along her entrance without actually touching it for as long as I could hold off. Her panting grew even louder. My mouth literally watered when I finally leaned forward for my first taste. We continued to lock gazes until my tongue brushed through her soft patch of hair and touched her center. The coed closed her eyes and moaned loudly as her fingers raked the bed at her sides. She surprised me by actually cumming. My mouth was flooded with her juices and I groaned as I did my best to drink them all down. 

I'd never made a girl come so quickly before. A part of me wanted to move up and take her, but she wasn't ready for her second orgasm yet, so instead I went back to kissing her thighs. They were very sensitive. I lost myself in them for a while. They were soft and shapely without being overly muscular.

It wasn't until the coed took my head in her hands that I moved back to her center and started kissing again. I think she wanted me to move up on the bed and possibly kiss her again, but she didn't complain when I stopped and thrust my tongue inside her once more. I worked her pussy hard. It paid off because it wasn't long before she was thrashing on the bed and looking at me in a way that let me know exactly what she wanted.

I finally moved up the bed and looked down at her. Her eyes were on fire. She wanted this as badly as I did. I think I may have actually growled as forced my cock past her nest of dark and inside her. We both cried out. She was very tight. I tried to go slow, but she wanted none of that. The coed surprised me by grabbing my ass and pulling me deep. 

My lips were still soaked with her juices, but that didn't seem to bother her at all. Her mouth latched on to mine and we kissed lustfully as our shared release grew perilously close. She wrapped her legs around my hips as I drove deep with every thrust. She didn't speak, but she did start moaning despite our kisses.

I could only hold off for so long. Her pussy was milking my cock like never before and I wanted to fill her with my cum. No, I needed to do it! I looked into her eyes. She read what was coming from my expression. The coed moaned loudly and raked my back with her nails. I slammed inside of her one last time and lost it. I spewed my cum deep. I couldn't stop myself. I cried out as I did my best to fill her depths with everything I had to offer. Her response was to scream as her orgasm burst from her. 

Afterward we lay gasping and panting as we fought to recover. I had no idea who she was. We hadn't said a word to each other. I didn't know anything about her other than the fact that she was the best sexual partner I'd ever had. For the moment, that was enough.

I watched her slowly pass out. I'd like to think it was from the great sex and not the alcohol, but it was probably a little of both. I wondered if I should have felt guilty for sleeping with her while she was drunk, but she wanted what happened as much as I did. That much I was sure of. I only hoped she didn't regret it when she was sober. I nodded off with her in my arms once more.

I found out a couple of hours later that whatever regrets she might have had were passing at best. She woke me up with her very talented tongue. At first all I saw was the mass of dark hair between my legs, but that wasn't all I felt! The coed looked up and showed me her sexy smile once more. She had my stiffness in her mouth at the time, but if anything that only made her more provocative.

She climbed onto my lap and slowly sank down on hardness. I groaned. So did she. Her hands were resting on the mattress on either side of my head as she bounced up and down. Her full breasts hung tantalizingly close to my face. I lifted my head and buried my mouth between them. I also took hold of her hips with both hands, although I let her set the pace. It wasn't long before she slammed down hard and came. Her arms grew weak and her breasts smothered me momentarily. I didn't mind in the least!

Once she recovered enough we started kissing. She didn't move off of my hardness, not that I would have let her. It felt incredible to be so deep inside of her! It wasn't long before she had enough energy to start bouncing again, but far more slowly. I did my best to be patient, only I was in serious need by this point. I eventually decided I had enough and I took hold of her hips. I stopped her from bouncing and held her steady. She frowned in confusion until I started thrusting up into her with short quick strokes. Clearly, no one had ever done this to her before. It was equally obvious that she liked it. She liked it a lot! 

My hips blurred as I thrust up into her over and over again. Her eyes grew big as she felt her next orgasm building fast. That was a good thing because I was doing all I could to fight mine off. Somehow I held off until she was shuddering over me in release. I literally lifted her off the bed as I slammed up into her and came. I refused to let her move off of me afterward. I held her in my arms enjoying the weight of her against my body as we drifted off once more. 

The next time I opened my eyes I could see that the sun was up though it was still early. The coed was no longer resting on top of me. At first I feared that she had slipped away in the night, but I smiled contently when I realized she had simple rolled off of me and fallen back to sleep. She lay on her stomach resting her head on her hands. 

I lay there for some time appreciating the site of her. Her hair was quite a mess and she was snoring gently, but neither did anything to take away from her attractiveness. She was naked and her body was just as incredible as I remembered. I took it all in and smiled. I felt something for her that was a lot like the beginning stages of love, but I knew that was ridiculous. I knew nothing about her. Hell, we hadn't even spoken yet! 

I reached out and pushed her hair away from her face. She didn't stir so I continued to gently stroke my fingers through her dark locks. I watched her sleep and felt oddly at peace. I almost didn't notice when her eyes fluttered open. She looked at me and her eyes grew big briefly, but then she sighed and smiled ever so slightly. I continued to play with her hair.

She looked very relaxed lying there, but I saw her glance out the window and then to the alarm clock on the side of me bed. I knew she had to leave soon, but I didn't want her to go yet so I reached out with my other hand and started rubbing her back. She clearly liked it. Her eyes closed and she forgot the time for the moment. I moved my other hand from her hair to her back. I shifted on the bed for a better position as my rubbing turned to a massage. It was something I was good at and most girls I gave one to really appreciate it. This one was no different in that aspect. 

I took my time. Her back was tight, but it didn't stay that way. My hands drifted to the top of her ass and I massage the large muscles there until they loosened as well. The coed moaned into the mattress. I smiled and shifted to her legs. I started at her calves and slowly worked my way up to her thighs. I was rubbing the inside of one of them when she lifted her hips off the bed slightly to give me better access. Two things struck me at once. First, I received a glimpse of the pink between her legs. She was wet and more than ready. Second, her aroma of excitement and need hit me.

I leaned forward and thrust my face between her legs. The coed moaned and lifted her hips even higher. My tongue pushed into her pinkness as I tasted her once more. I continued to lick and suck until her juices literally sprayed my face. If anything, that only made me want her more. 

I shifted on the bed and straddled her thighs. She was too spent to move, but that didn't stop me from forcing my hardness between her legs. I thrust my cock deep inside of her and despite her recent orgasm she moaned. I was in too much need to go slow, but the coed didn't seem to mind in the least. Her center was wet once more and my cock moved smoothly in and out of her. She was still tight, but she'd grown used to my size.

I held myself up by placing my arms on either side of her head as I slammed in and out of her. This gave me an amazing view of her face as her next orgasm grew. There was nothing gentle about what we were doing now. It was all about need and desire. The cooed realized I was watching her, but didn't seem bothered by it. She was clearly immersed in the passion of the moment. Her face glistened in the heat of the morning. So did the rest of her. We slid against each other finding a rhythm that drove both of us to the brink.

The coed started moaning and painting. Her expression was one of pure passion when she finally lost it. She clamped down hard on my stiffness and I felt her insides throb. My orgasm burst from me as I filled her one last time. I didn't so much roll off of her as fall. She shifted with some difficulty and rested her head on my shoulder.

I was half asleep when she kissed me. I enjoyed it, but it didn't wake me fully. I was too spent. I started to drift off, but stopped when the bed shifted as she got out of it. I heard the shower from the bathroom I shared with my suitemates. She wasn't in it for long. I got out of bed and threw on a pair of shorts when I heard the water turn off. The coed came out wearing my towel and looked amazing. 

I started to reach for her. She saw my expression and stepped away from me quickly. She was smiling, but that didn't stop her from letting me know we were done. I was disappointed. I was pretty sure she was too based on her expression, but it was obvious that she was late for something. She kept looking at the clock and frowning as she dressed quickly. 

I felt bad for her and helped her find her bra. Somehow it ended up under the bed. I also lent her a brush. She was fully dressed and presentable in record time. We shared one last kiss by the door. Despite her need to be gone, she didn't rush it. I appreciated that. We looked at each other briefly afterward. 

She was clearly just as surprised by what happened as I was, but unlike her I couldn't leave it like this. I opened my mouth to speak, but she stopped me by covering my lips with her fingers and shaking her head once. I sighed and nodded in understanding. She slipped out of my room without a word and I let her. We both knew that this was the way something like this was supposed to end.

I climbed back in bed and tried to sleep, but it was impossible. My room reeked of the mysterious coed. An hour later I was still tossing and turning. I found myself wondering if she and I could have ended up being more than just a one night stand if we'd met differently. It was silly, I know, but there was something about her. It made no logical sense, but I felt strongly that it wasn't just the great sex despite that being really the only thing we shared. 

I fell asleep thinking about her and woke up hours later with her still on my mind. I wanted to go after her, but clearly that would be a mistake. She made it plain that she wasn't looking for more than what happened.

I got out of bed and took a shower. I knew that she was probably right ending it the way we had. Hell, for all I knew we'd actually hate each other if we actually started talking, but a part of me didn't accept that. It was also just as likely that she lived far away so even if we did hit it off it probably wouldn't work out. No, our night together was incredible, but that's all it was, a night together. I would just have to accept that.

I dressed in silence and opened my bedroom window afterward to air it out. I pulled my sheets off the bed because they were a mess. I spent a few minutes digging into my closet until I found the second set my mother had sent along. I took my time making the bed. Afterward, as I looked around the room and saw that all hints of what happened were now gone, I felt an odd kind of sadness. I left and started wandering around campus. 




Hush



It took me a while before I realized what I was doing. I was searching for her despite everything. Yet, even in understanding that, I didn't stop looking. I must have walked around campus for a couple of hours, but not only didn't I find her, but I didn't find anyone from her sorority either. I guess whatever she was late to was somewhere off campus. I finally accepted that and went back to my room somewhat dejected. 

I was pretty tired and decided to take a nap. Thankfully, my suitemates weren't home. I got a quick drink of water and made my way to my room. I was pulling off my jeans when I noticed it. There was an envelope on my pillow. I opened it and saw that it was an invitation to a private party the sorority was throwing later that night. I immediately knew it was from her. There were no words written on it, only the invitation itself. I smiled slowly in satisfaction. 



Hush, Bobby



"Hush," I muttered, rocking my four-month-old son Bobby distractedly. "Come on, go to sleep. Please. For the love of God. Your mother and I are both exhausted. Come on, little dude. Get some sleep for Daddy."

Amazingly, as if he had heard and understood the pleading in my voice, Bobby's high-pitched yells started to soften into grizzling. Apparently my beseeching had achieved what multiple breastfeeds, a bottle of formula, two nappy changes, a dose of colic medicine, several story-books and about an hour and a half of walking up and down, rocking and singing could not. In time, the grizzling settled into snuffling, and then suddenly his breathing slowed into the rhythmic pattern that suggested sleep.

Very gingerly, I placed him into his cot. He twitched slightly as his head touched the pillow, and I felt a pang of dread at the thought of yet another night like the last few weeks...but then he settled down again, his little hand clutching my finger. I felt another pang, this time of love. I was quickly discovering, as all new parents inevitably do, that it is much easier to love your kids when they are fast asleep.

Holding my breath, not daring to hope too soon, I crept from the bedroom and closed the door, then made my way through to the living-room. Annie looked up from her magazine as I came in. She had become an avid reader of those mother-and-baby glossies lately. I'd looked through one a while ago and was, personally, unimpressed. They all seemed to be full of perfect, groomed parents with flawless, chubby-cheeked smiling kids. 

"Hey, Jim," she said. "It says here that babies who fuss at night like Bobby does may not be stimulated enough during the day. Perhaps I should think about taking him out more – you know, to mother and baby groups, that sort of thing. Or we could get one of those jungle gyms..."

I was about to go off on one of my rants about over-priced baby tat and ridiculous pressure from the media and the medical profession to be a 'good parent' at all times. But then, for the first time in weeks, I looked at my wife properly – and compassion silenced me.

She was dressed in a baggy T-shirt and pyjama trousers, and her auburn hair was pulled back from her face in a scrunchie, making her look younger than her twenty-five years. Her pale skin was even more so from lack of sleep and her eyes had big dark circles under them. She looked so cute and vulnerable that I couldn't help myself. I went over to her, knelt in front of the sofa where she sat, and encased her in a huge hug.

She snuggled into my shoulder. "This is nice," she sighed. "It feels like I haven't been able to get near you for ages."

"Tell me about it," I said. We'd had sex twice since Bobby had been born, and both times had been half-clothed quickies which we had persevered with even through his howling. I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually had the chance to fully appreciate my wife's body – and although she constantly complained about saggy skin, stretch marks and weight gain, all I saw was the woman I loved and desired over all others.

Suddenly I felt her lips pressing into the base of my neck. My hold on her waist tightened reflexively. She had showered about an hour ago and her hair was still damp, and smelt of the coconut shampoo she used. God, how badly I wanted her. Her mouth was exploring the length of my neck now, playfully nipping my skin, and her hands were grasping my hair. 

"Mmmm." My mouth found hers. "I've missed you."

It was a weird thing to say on the face of it seeing as we lived together, but I think she knew what I meant. For a long time we made out like teenagers, relishing the sensations that lips and tongues could produce. In fact it wasn't until her questing hands found my crotch that I even realised how hard I was.

"And I've missed you," she said, looking at the telltale bulge. I laughed. "Nice to know that the horrors of pregnancy and childbirth haven't totally destroyed all former lust for me."

"And it's nice to know that my post-baby body hasn't put you off me."

"I don't think it has," I said, smiling. "But I haven't seen you naked for a while, so perhaps I'd better check and make sure." 

She lifted her arms, giggling, as I started to peel off the unflattering T-shirt. Beneath it was an equally unflattering nursing bra. I took a few moments to gaze at her luscious breasts, which had become even larger and fuller since Bobby. 

"I'm guessing these are off-limits," I said, with more than a tinge of regret. I hadn't had a look-in there either; I knew that breastfeeding was good for babies, but I still envied Bobby his monopoly over his mother's boobs.

"Not necessarily," she said flirtatiously. "You'll just need to be gentle."

"I'll try," I said. 

Slowly, like it was my first time, I undid the bra and pulled it off over her arms. Her nipples had enlarged, and darkened from the light pink of pre-pregnancy to a darker, rosy tint. I ached to have them in my mouth, but settled instead for the lightest of strokes over the swell of her breasts, stopping short of the areolas. The gasp and shudder that this elicited alarmed me; had I hurt her? But then her back arched and her legs spread wider apart, inviting me to carry on. Jeez – it had been so long, apparently, that I couldn't even tell when my own wife was turned on. I listened for any sound from Bobby's room and heard nothing. Good; I was going to make the most of this window of peace.

"Oh yes," she moaned. "Touch me, Jim. Touch me everywhere."

"Gladly," I said. And so, taking her command literally, I did. Hair, face, neck, arms, back...everywhere there was bare skin, I stroked, still taking care not to touch her nipples because I knew they would probably have had quite enough contact from Bobby. She was warm and soft, and having a baby had made her curvier than ever – like some kind of lush fertility goddess. It also seemed to have made her a lot more touch-sensitive. She writhed and moaned like she was in a porn movie, bucking her hips against me and wrapping her legs around the backs of my thighs. It had been so long since I had experienced this Annie, this hot and sexy lover who knew exactly what she wanted, that for a moment I was worried I wasn't going to be able to satisfy her. Having wriggled out of her pyjama bottoms, she was now divesting me of my own clothing, returning the attention I was giving her with added kisses wherever she could reach.

"God, you're soaking wet," I whispered as the head of my cock brushed against her pussy, which very nearly swallowed me whole even from that brief contact.

"I've been going out of my mind with wanting you," she whispered back.

"Me too."

I wanted inside her; but I wanted to play awhile first. I manoeuvred myself so that the head of my cock was up against her clit and started to thrust gently so that they rubbed against one another. This had been a favourite foreplay move of ours for a long time.

"Oh God," she cried. "Yes, just like that." She grabbed my hands and put them back on her breasts. As she did, several jets of milk escaped her nipples, spraying prettily over her stomach. My breath caught at this sight. I had been a bit ambivalent about the idea of her lactating, since the unspoken message I'd picked up from all the midwives, health visitors and ante-natal groups was that milky boobs were for babies only – but that milk spray was one of the most erotic things I had ever seen. Impulsively I bent my head and licked the droplets off her. The taste was rich and sweet, and very moreish. When I looked up, her eyes were glowing with lust.

"Drink me," she said, her voice guttural. When I hesitated, she pulled my mouth to her nipple and held my head there. I sucked gently, and was rewarded with more of my wife's delicious milk and her equally sweet moans of pleasure. My confidence increasing, I sucked harder, pushing my tongue against her breast to make it flow faster. She tasted incredible; I could never have dreamed of being allowed to sample this particular delight, but now that I had I wondered why it wasn't something I had ever heard of couples doing before.

Too soon, it seemed, there was no more to be had...from that side, at any rate. Annie was all too pleased to let me empty her other breast too. It was amazing how they started out tense and hard, and became softer as they emptied. All the while my cock was still rubbing against her clit – and just as the flow of milk was starting to slow down, I felt her clit throb and quiver and heard her breathing quicken as she came, gushing a different kind of fluid all over my shaft – so much so that it ran down my ball sack too, in little rivulets.

I needed to fuck her, now, this second. Without releasing my mouth's grip on her nipple, I pushed myself inside her, marvelling at the extreme wetness of her and her pussy's total lack of any resistance. In spite of having given birth, she was still tight; I vaguely remembered her saying something about doing pelvic floor exercises and was very glad that she had made the effort. However, my extreme horniness got the better of me. I could not have managed more than half a dozen thrusts before coming so hard I felt like I was going to turn inside-out. In fact, it was one of the most painful orgasms I had ever had – albeit in a good way.

Luckily, though, all the build-up and the amount of time since I'd last had sex also meant that my hard-on wasn't in a hurry to leave – and I certainly wasn't about to stop if my body would let me carry on. Overcome anew by desire for my beautiful wife, I fucked her like my life depended on it, pulling her legs up onto my shoulders to give me greater access. She gasped with each thrust and pushed her thighs against me to control how deep I could go. This only added fuel to my fire. I loved it when she resisted me. Putting my hands behind her knees, I pushed down, splaying her legs further apart. She gave a snarl of pain and surprise, and then with a deft twisting movement she flipped onto her side and slid down so that her head was between my legs.

"I see," I said softly. "You want a nice mouthful too, do you?"

Her answer was to practically swallow my cock whole, her head thrown back so that I was able to fuck her mouth. She took me in right up to the hilt, making the most shockingly erotic wet slurping sounds with every thrust, her fingers frantically fiddling with her clit at the same time. Knowing that she was playing with herself whilst sucking me off did what it always did – made me go from about halfway to orgasm to all the way over the edge in a heartbeat. As my cum spurted down her throat, her body trembled and her hips bucked as she too came for the second time that evening.

At that precise moment, I heard a wail from Bobby's room. I looked at Annie. She looked at me. And then we both burst out laughing. It felt so good to have relieved all that tension that somehow, the problem that was our son's erratic sleeping pattern seemed a lot less insurmountable now.

"I knew it was too good to last," she said.

"True. He did at least let us finish though. He's learning. I'll go and see to him if you like. I'd quite like a word with him in private."

As it turned out, Bobby only wanted a cuddle and some reassurance. As I rocked him in my arms and looked at his peacefully sleeping face, I whispered, "Thanks, little guy. And maybe one day, when you've got kids of your own, you'll understand what for."



Hush Darling



Author's note: This story takes place during the first season of Agent Carter.

*

"Hush Darling." Peggy tried to scold her lover, although it came out as a giggle.

Peggy Carter was normally better at controlling herself, but she had always found it difficult with Angie Martinelli. When Angie was stripped down to her unmentionables and writhing beneath her it was impossible, and that was a problem.

A serious problem, one that Peggy shouldn't have to constantly remind Angie, and yet here they were, the delightful Italian girl once again failing to remain as silent as she should causing Peggy to pull back from Angie's neck and tried to scold her lover. The fact that the first try didn't go well was irrelevant, she needed to make Angie see reason, before the unthinkable happened. 

"Angie!" Peggy warned.

"I know English, I know." Angie softly grumbled, "Can't let it get out we're queer. I know, and I'm sorry. I swear I'll try harder. Just please, don't stop."

Peggy bit her lip. They should stop of course, and ideally they would never have started. Peggy should have resisted these sinful and unlawful feelings, if not for her sake then for Angie's, but she had overestimated her self-control, or perhaps underestimated Angie's charms.

Most likely both, although regardless the end result was the same, the two women almost completely naked together in Angie's bed, and as much as Peggy should stop she couldn't.

No, she just had to lean down to press her lips to Angie's for what felt like the millions time tonight, and then work her way back down to that slender neck she had been lingering on while trying to work up the nerve to go lower.

Not that this was the first time, far from it, the two women had been consummating their forbidden union like a pair of jackrabbits the past few weeks, and yet it still felt all so new.

So much so Peggy got embarrassingly nervous whenever they started, the irony not lost on Peggy that while she could shoot to kill without hesitation she hesitated when it came to removing Angie Martinelli's bra. The circumstances were different of course, but it seemed so absurd that she still had the same problem with the latter.

Of course eventually Peggy succeeded, the curvier of the two women effortlessly unhooking Angie's bra and then tossing aside to join the rest of their discarded clothes piled on the floor.

Then she slowly made her way down to those rounded globes of flesh Peggy had grown to adore so much, kissing her way up one of Angie's breasts and taking a nipple into her mouth. Unfortunately she barely had a chance to suck on it when Angie let out a loud cry, which really upset the English woman.

"For God's sake Angie, try and be a little discreet!" Peggy snapped, trying to move away.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Angie whisper yelled, grabbing onto Peggy in the nick of time and giving the other woman her best puppy dog eyes as she continued in the softest voice she could manage, "I promise I'll stop making so much noise, just please, don't stop this. I need this. I need you. Five guys grabbed my ass today, and none of them tipped, and one of them gave me an earful about the food, like I was the one who actually cooked it. The only thing that kept me sane was thinking about coming back to you. Making love with you. Please don't deny me. I don't think I could bear it."

Angie almost felt bad. It wasn't a total lie, but it was stretching the truth. Only three guys had grabbed her ass today, but two of them had the nerve to do it more than once, and she didn't like it one bit. She never liked it, but especially now because she wasn't theirs to touch.

She was Peggy's. And despite various discussions/arguments about independence and no one owns anyone, mentioning customers touching her inappropriately was a great way to make Peggy see red, this being no exception, which hopefully meant Angie was about to be ravaged.

Sure enough after staring at her with a mixture of burning desire and other things Angie couldn't quite work out Peggy leaned in and whispered, "One more chance, okay darling?"

"Okay English." Angie beamed.

"I'm deadly serious Angie." Peggy said solemnly, "You know what we're risking. What happens if we get caught. What, what might happen to you... God Angie, I couldn't stand it if anything-"

"Shhhhhh." Angie hushed, briefly pressing her lips to Peggy's to avoid her secret girlfriend becoming lost in one of her little rants, "Don't be such a worry wart English. I bet Miriam couldn't even comprehend that two gals could even have sex, so as long as she doesn't find a man up here we'll be fine."

"I think even the most unimaginative mind could put two and two together if they find me with my head between your thighs." Peggy whispered dryly, before ultimately conceding, "But I suppose we can treat this like a three strikes deal. One more, and you're out."

Angie was pretty sure she had three strikes already, but she wasn't going to argue. Not when Peggy was kissing her again, those wonderful lips making her short-circuit.

She wasn't much better when Peggy kissed her way down her body to take one of Angie's nipples into her mouth, sucking on it gently for a few long moments before moving to the other nipple and repeating the process.

Back and forth Peggy went, her tongue essentially beginning to swirl around those nipples in between sucks while Angie struggled to live up to her end of the bargain and remain quiet.

Normally Angie was really good that staying quiet. After all, Peggy wasn't her first, not by a long shot, and none of those other girls wanted to be discovered, so Angie had become really good at keeping her mouth shut when she needed too. But things were just different with Peggy, none of Angie's old tricks working too well as the older woman just drove her crazy.

Somehow she knew she would, even back when Angie had thought Peggy was as straight as they come and would either reject her completely or have to be guided every step of the way. But no, Peggy knew exactly what she was doing, something she happily proved once again as she played with Angie's boobs.

"Please, mmmmmmm, please English, lower." Angie squeaked in between soft moans.

Before she had a chance to say anything else Peggy looked up at her with a warning glance and then started to kiss her way down Angie's flat stomach.

Instantly, or pretty much so, Angie grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved it over her face. This was the only way which had proven even slightly effective when it came to muffling her cries of pleasure and with it firmly in place Peggy seemed to speed up.

It was only a little bit, but enough to make Angie's heart race as within seconds Peggy was in between her thighs, her hot breath on Angie's needy centre. And then Peggy gave her what she needed, Angie crying out into the pillow in blissful happiness and gratitude to her secret lover.

Peggy smiled happily as Angie successfully muffled her cries, or at least as much as could reasonably be expected under the circumstances. In fact it might have been softer than the moan Peggy let out as her taste buds were delighted by the flavour of pure Angela Martinelli, and luckily that moan was muffled by the fact that Peggy's mouth was busy.

Of course after the initial lick Peggy's taste buds got used to this treat and she didn't really moan, while Angie's cries and moans sounded deafening in the otherwise silent room, especially as they were joined by groans, whimpers and gasps.

It was no mistake that it was still fairly early in the evening, as in the silence of the room if Peggy tried really hard she could hear the sound of her neighbours talking and listening to the radio, to her right that god-awful Captain American Adventure Hour playing in the background which was likely more audible than anything Angie let out.

Hopefully that would continue to be the case as Peggy settled into giving her lesbian lover a long pussy licking, both girls clearly loving this ultra-forbidden act of depravity.

Every time they had sex, or she made Angie feel good in anyway, or just talked about her secret girlfriend and that beautiful smile of hers, Peggy was ashamed that she had once been so reluctant to face the true nature of her feelings for this girl.

It didn't matter that it wasn't out of disgust like Angie had thought, although she still felt incredibly guilty about that, but she had somehow allowed society to make her feel guilty about her desire for this beautiful girl.

What they had together was good, and pure, and Peggy wished she could shout it from the rooftops that she loved Angie Martinelli. However they would be kicked out of their home, and perhaps driven out of town or in her case even out of the country, and then she would never clear Howard's name.

More importantly those responsible for framing him might come after her beloved Angie, and she just couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to this girl, so it was imperative they both stay silent and 'in the closet' as it were, Peggy not even revealing the true nature of their relationship to Mr Jarvis, and as this whole thing was unravelling he was quickly becoming her most trusted confident, Peggy sharing things with him that she couldn't even share with her girlfriend.

Angie tried not to let it bother her that Peggy was so secretive. That she still wouldn't explain what she did when she snuck away in the early hours of the morning/extremely later in the evening, or what she really did for a living, or continue to give her only breadcrumbs of her past.

Worst of all she kept having very non-inconspicuous meetings with Mr Fancy, disappearing with him, an obviously married man. What was Angie supposed to think? But Peggy swore there was nothing like that going on between them, and Angie chose to believe her. At a time like this, what else could she do?

Luckily for Angie when Peggy was licking her pussy all her worries and doubts just seemed to fade away. Eventually.

Sure, after the initial joy at the beginning her mind tended to wander, but as the need to cum started building and/or Peggy started giving her more pleasure all she could concentrate on was the present.

Which was true of the other girls she had been with for sure, as it turned out Angie was a little bit of a slut for girls, but again Peggy Carter was no ordinary girl.

No, Peggy Carter was extraordinary, seemingly better at everything than anyone else. Although Angie had been fortunate enough to learn that wasn't true, that Peggy had her faults like the rest of us mere mortals.

One of those faults was taking almost sadistic delight out of torturing Angie with pleasure. Honestly the pussy licking itself was so perfect it could have brought Angie to the edge on its own, but Peggy just had to linger on her clit.

It was just a few seconds at first, and just gently flicking that sensitive bundle of nerves, but then it became longer and Peggy started flat-out licking Angie's clit, the poor Italian American girl whimpering and crying out into her pillow as the cruel English woman tortured her with that wicked little tongue of hers.

Peggy didn't even have the decency to act guilty about it. No, she was smirking up at her like she wanted to get caught all of a sudden.

Angie knew that wasn't true. Knew Peggy would never endanger them both like that, but she almost had to wonder as Peggy continuously lapped at her clit. Or at least Angie would have if she was capable of thought during those few long seconds.

She sure thought it afterwards as Peggy's tongue slid downwards again, Angie almost literally weeping into her pillow as this time that wicked muscle started lingering at her entrance, the Italian swearing that the Brit even poked the tip of her tongue inside her at one point, the sensation making her squirm. Well, even more than before.

Then Peggy wrapped her lips around Angie's clit and started sucking, prompting Angie to lower the pillow and whimper, "English, please-"

"Hush darling." Peggy scolded softly before immediately going back to the clit she had only just let go of.

Angie whimpered again, this time into her pillow but still much longer. For her trouble she felt teeth grazing against her sensitive bud, Peggy clearly trying to give her a silent warning, but was a really poor choice of one as it drove Angie wild.

Which clearly was Peggy's plan, given the way she not only continued sucking Angie's clit but increased the suction until there were actual tears of need coming out of the inspiring actress's eyes. Angie tried, she really did, but she wasn't strong like Peggy, and she just couldn't deal with this type of wonderful pleasure.

So after a few moments she lowered the pillow again and whispered, "Seriously English-"

"I told you to be quiet!!" Peggy demanded softly, blowing on Angie's clit for a second before adding, "Besides, that's not my name."

"Peggy! Peggy please make me..." Angie wept, realizing nearly too late she was being too loud and whispered the next part as softly as possible, "Make me cum. Please Peggy, I need you to make me cum. I need it more than anything, and I'll do anything if you just do it."

For a second Peggy just stared at her, then she asked, "Promised to be quiet?"

"Yes!" Angie wept, "Now please just fuck me! Fuck me and make me cum."

Smiling softly Peggy ordered, "Turn on the radio."

It wasn't exactly easy but Angie was just about able to reach across and turn on the infernal contraption. As the stations were filled with men serenading women or vice versa it felt weird having it in the background, so they tried to avoid using it during the foreplay.

But now they very much need it, whatever song that was playing quickly becoming unintelligible to Angie as Peggy returned her mouth to her cunt and she returned the pillow to her face, pressing it down so hard she nearly suffocated herself as Peggy's tongue slowly pushed itself inside her pussy and began gently fucking her.

Angie may not have cum instantly, but it was touch and go, and it wasn't long before Peggy was picking up the pace, clearly determined to make Angie cum good and hard.

She soon exceeded, Angie gritting her teeth as tightly as she could and pressing that pillow down onto her face so hard that she couldn't breathe as Peggy's wicked little tongue gave her an orgasm as powerful as she'd ever had before.

As it was quickly followed by another, and another, and another, Angie's usual techniques failed and she was pretty much just left praying that the radio was enough to drown out her screams of pleasure.

In the darkest moments Angie wondered whether her God, or at least the one that was so precious to her family, would listen to the prayers of a filthy, no good dyke like her.

Luckily Peggy took all her darkness away and replaced it with pure joy, Angie Martinelli becoming nothing but a writhing mess as she was tongue fucked to climax after climax, things only getting better when Peggy added her fingers into the mix, if only because then she started sucking on her clit again, this time giving it everything she had. That really turned Angie's mind to mush.

Peggy loved the feeling of Angie's pussy clenching around her fingers as she came, and she really started focusing on the little bud which was the only part of the human anatomy purely designed for pleasure.

However her true incentive for switching techniques was she hadn't wanted to wear out her tongue, or mouth for that matter, because as far as she was concerned they were nowhere near done and Peggy definitely wanted to be able to kiss Angie without uncomfortable soreness.

She learned that from previous experience. Of course it didn't matter, she'd fight through agonising pain if it meant she could press her lips to those belonging to this delightful girl.

As she felt the same way about kissing Angie's downstairs lips Peggy was soon switching back, if only so she could swallow the other girl's cum. Oh how Peggy loved swallowing cum. It was just such an intimate act.

She supposed that's what sex was, or at least what was supposed to be, but cum swallowing just felt like it was on another level. It helped that Angie had the tastiest cum Peggy had ever swallowed, the English woman completely addicted when it first hit her taste buds and she'd been ravenous for it ever since.

As if she was trying to prove that Peggy pushed her tongue as deep as it would go into Angie the second there was no more cum to swallow, relentlessly fucking her girlfriend with her tongue until she received some more of that delightful liquid, Peggy swallowing at least the majority of it down before repeating the process.

A good amount ended up on her face, but that just added to experience, Peggy going back and forth between tongue fucking and fingering Angie until the other woman reached down and tugged on her hair, a pre-agreed sign to stop.

Peggy was tempted to ignore it, but ultimately she crawled upwards to give her secret lover a passionate kiss, allowing Angie a chance to recover.

After several minutes of wonderful kissing Angie gently rolled over, broke the kiss and softly ordered, "Wait here."

Before Peggy could decide on a cheeky come back Angie rolled off her, got off the bed and retrieve their strap-on from its hiding place. She then gave Peggy a grin and proceeded to slide it up the Agent's legs, Peggy lifting herself accordingly so that her lover could secure the device around her waist.

Then Angie wrapped her hand around the base to hold it steady, shot Peggy another cheeky grin, and then wrapped her mouth around the head of the toy and started sucking it as if it was real, doing a remarkably good job mirroring what Peggy had done in a few occasions herself, considering Angie's true nature and all.

Angie had been complimented on her performance in this department before, but she had to take their word for it. She had once tried going all the way with a guy, just to make absolutely certain she wasn't interested, and yeah, total nightmare.

Well, it could have been a lot worse, the guy was her first boyfriend and he couldn't have been more sweet about it, even stopping when it was clear she wasn't into it and then not saying a thing to anyone. Anyway, she had wanted to try this then, and actually she liked him, so she wasn't going to go looking to do this with any old feller.

However while giving a real blow job didn't appeal sucking Peggy's cock, oh gosh, for whatever reason that really got Angie's motor humming. For the life of her she couldn't figure out why.

At least when the dildo was inside her pussy it gave her physical pleasure, this was just some kind of head fuck which really got Angie off for whatever reason. Of course, now wasn't the time for self-therapy.

No, now was the time for Angie to indulge in one of her favourite kinks, and more importantly make sure the dildo was nice and wet for what was about to happen.

On that note Angie lowered her lips on the toy cock until it was poking at the back of her mouth, then she pulled up, steadily repeating the process so she was literally bobbing her head up and down on Peggy's lap.

The other woman even reached down to stroked her locks, Angie shooting her a wicked look before trying to push Peggy's strap-on literally into her throat, her eyes watering almost immediately.

She tried to push past it, but the urge to gag was too much, Angie worried that she was going to totally spoil the moment by throwing up or something, again amazed that girls she knew had apparently taken cocks this size all the way.

Being the social butterfly that she was Angie used to have a lot of friends, and that meant she had to engage in a lot of boy talk she would rather have missed out on.

Most of it was PG-13, but she had known a few gals who had totally over shared. That's how Angie had learn the proper way to perform a 'blow job', and while she hadn't thought it would ever come in useful she had been proven so wonderfully wrong.




Hush Darling



She even knew how to make sure that the lower half was nice and wet, namely at first by drooling and then rubbing that saliva in by hand before pulling away completely and licking the shaft. Of course it wasn't long after that Angie moved on to the real fun.

Peggy enjoyed the sight of Angie sucking her 'cock' more than she would have ever thought possible, devoting almost as much time as Angie to try unsuccessfully to figure out why.

She thought about it again now, at least until Angie crawled upwards, mercifully putting an end to the thoughts rattling around inside Peggy's head with another passionate kiss. During that wonderful exchange Angie lined herself up with the dildo and then pushed herself down on it with practiced ease.

When Angie penetrated herself she always let out a loud cry into Peggy's mouth, those lips and the infernal radio muffling the sound for the most part.

Luckily for the two lovers the radio was just background noise now, but it was important to their cover as even with all her training Peggy wasn't sure she could listen out for signs that they were being discovered when Angelina Martinelli was slowly lowering herself down on a dildo strapped around her waist while their tongues gently massaged the others.

Whether because of the dildo's size or because she just liked kissing Peggy it took Angie quite a while to lower herself all the way down, even now they'd performed as little routine for several weeks.

When she achieved full penetration, the large toy all the way inside her, it didn't necessarily mean the end of the kiss, but it did in this case, Peggy disappointed as Angie broke the kiss and pulled back from her so she was sitting upright on her lap.

Then Peggy's disappointment was quickly forgotten as after a calming breath Angie started bouncing up and down, creating such a beautiful sight which never failed to take Peggy's breath away.

Oh how Peggy adored seeing Angie like this, so wild and free and completely giving into her desires, the look of euphoria on her face priceless as the part of her body designed to be penetrated was, and by a longer and thicker model than anything 'real', and it would last longer too.

Peggy got some pretty amazing perks too, like the look on Angie's face, and watching the other girl's tits bounce up and down in time with her thrusts, Peggy barely able to take her eyes off them when her gaze finally lowered.

Then they lowered again as she got an eye full Angie's wet cunt stretching for her 'manhood', the sight just another fascinating one for Agent Carter.

Angie closed her eyes when she finally got that toy inside of her and let out a loud moan. She then opened her eyes again about a second later, because every second with Peggy Carter was a precious gift and she didn't want to miss a second of it.

Especially when Peggy was naked underneath her, except for the device keeping their bodies connected, which wasn't exactly cutting off her view from Peggy's best feature.

Which was her beautiful face, but further south was really nice too, Angie's eyes switching back and forth between that beautiful face she so adored and those amazing tits, which she also adored.

Those beautiful sights soon had her body relaxing, the part of her which was meant to be filled feeling oh so good, especially as she started bouncing up and down on the man-made meat.

Of course she continued staring at Peggy, and her assets, throughout the next few minutes, although honestly Angie found it hard to concentrate on that when she had to be quiet without her precious pillow.

Inevitably, she would find it impossible, which was why they never stayed in this position for long, but Angie intended to make this last for as long as possible because she was enjoying the hell out of it.

To her delight Peggy let her, ignoring a few rather loud moans, groans, gasps and whimpers and the sound of the bed springs straining as Angie slowly increase the pace until she was practically pounding herself up and down in Peggy's lap.

To her further delight Angie caught Peggy's eyes drifting from her own down to where that dildo was sliding in and out of her and her bouncing boobs.

Even though Angie was shamelessly staring at the latter when their eyes locked again Peggy blushed, somehow making her look even more beautiful and in turn making Angie grin wickedly.

Deciding to put on a show for her lover Angie gently placed her hands by her sides and slid them upwards.

Sensing the movement Peggy's eyes immediately locked onto those hands as they slowly travelled to Angie's tits, the younger girl beginning to play with herself as if she was alone. She had done this before for Peggy and had predicted that she would get Peggy's attention from it.

From the beginning Angie did her best to give a performance of a lifetime while not forgetting that this was merely a supporting role and she shouldn't forget about the star of the show, namely that wonderfully big dildo she was impaling herself on.

Peggy certainly enjoyed the show, however whenever Angie did this, it was always the beginning of the end, at least for that position. Because Angie tried her best, which was really hard, but ultimately that added stimulation would cause her to cry out to loudly, Peggy letting go as much as she dared for as long as she dared and then flipping them over so she could easily move down and cover Angie's lips with her own.

The downside was that more often than not that was the end of the show, sadly now being no exception, although Peggy certainly wasn't going to complain about Angie wrapping her arms around her.

Perhaps more significantly she wrapped her legs around her, something about that just driving Peggy wild and reminding her that it was now up to her to continue their love making.

And so Peggy began slowly pulling her back and then pushing them forwards, repeating the process over and over again so she was pumping the dildo in and out of Angie's cunt as if it was her real dick, making her secret girlfriend cry, whimper and moan into her mouth and tightened her grip on her. Not enough to even slightly slow her down, but in a bizarre way letting Peggy know she was enjoying it.

Getting the message loud and clear Peggy slowly but surely increased the pace until she was fucking Angie as hard as she dared. Part of Peggy wished she could go harder.

Show off what she could do and make Angie cum harder than ever before. However the bed springs were already being noisy enough, as was Angie, and really Peggy couldn't risk making them any louder.

Also, if she used too much of her strength she worried that what they were doing could no longer be considered love-making. Which was silly. She knew it was silly. But it was how part of her felt, Peggy feeling at war with herself as she continued thrusting in and out of Angie.

About a week ago Angie had convinced her to take a drive into the country, get lost seemingly in the middle of nowhere until that's exactly where they were. In the middle of nowhere.

With no one around for miles they had made their way to the back seat and had some of the most passionate sex of their lives, and when the strap-on came out Peggy spent most of it staring lovingly into Angie's eyes, letting her know no matter how hard she hammered that dildo in and out of her or how loudly Angie screamed Peggy loved her.

That Peggy loved her no matter what, the English woman trying to let the American woman know that through their latest kiss.

Angie got the message, and it made her heart flutter. Of course she didn't need the kiss, as Peggy was surprisingly affectionate behind closed doors.

Even in public Peggy would often risk showing her affection in these subtle little ways which most people would probably dismiss as girls being girly, but Angie could tell with every squeeze of her hand, every hug, and every other little touch was Peggy saying I love you.

They could even hold hands, something that queer boys couldn't get away with, so that was one small mercy, even if it was still torturous not kissing Peggy all the time like she wanted too.

In private Peggy was constantly slipping her those three little words, despite the fact they hadn't been together long. It felt like it though, which Angie loved.

She felt she had known Peggy forever, and considering Peggy had never got the chance to tell her last love interest, Steve Rogers a.k.a. Captain America, that she loved him it was very understandable why she felt the need to let Angie know just how deep her feelings were for her. And Angie loved it, even if it blew her mind she could be good enough for Captain America's girlfriend.

As if she could sense that self-deprecating thought Peggy broke the kiss and whispered, "I love you."

Before Angie had a chance to say it back Peggy pressed her lips firmly to Angie's and rapidly increase the force of her thrusts, the combination of that and those three little words echoing in her head making sure that Angie had an explosive orgasm.

The kind most girls didn't get, and yet Angie was lucky enough not only get it every time with women, but multiple times. Multiple multiple times if she was lucky, and she always was with Peggy Carter. Heck, Angie was the luckiest girl in the world right now, something Peggy proved over, and over, and over again.

While she had received something like this from other girls it was just special with Peggy. Everything was, but sex? Oh golly, there was nothing in the world Angie would trade for this. Not fame, fortune, not her name in lights, nothing.

Nothing was more important than laying underneath this beautiful goddess, willingly accepting everything she had to give her, Angie's queer little cunt lovingly welcoming every inch of that strap-on dildo inside her as Peggy slammed in and out of her, making Angie feel like she was in heaven. And really, how could Paradise itself be better than this?

Peggy was thinking something along the same lines, although mostly she was focused on keeping quiet and most importantly of all Angie's pleasure.

She mostly achieved the latter and while the former was arguable at best it seems that they would get away with it again, their neighbours either not caring about the sound they heard or too wrapped up in their own lives to notice.

Or possibly believing Angie was simply entertaining a gentleman caller, the other girls nice enough not to rat Angie out to their disapproving landlady and get her kicked out because of it, when technically Angie had obeyed the rule.

Along the way Peggy received some wonderful climaxes of her own thanks to the stimulator inside the harness rubbing against her clit with every thrust and the sheer joy of taking Angelina Martinelli in this way and bring her so much wonderful pleasure.

However once Peggy gave into her orgasm, swiftly followed by orgasms, it was truly the beginning of the end, the pleasure truly overwhelming her and quickly sapping her energy.

She kept enough in reserve in case of emergencies though, meaning instead of collapsing on top of Angie like a few of her own 'gentleman' callers had done in the past Peggy gently pulled the strap-on out of the other girl's cunt, drop-down besides her lover and then pulled Angie into a comforting embrace as the inspiring actress shivered in the after-shocks of her climaxes.

There was a few long minutes of silence, then Angie whispered into Peggy's ear, "Hey English, up for completing the set?"

Even though she had seen this coming Peggy bit her lip and then asked, "Are you sure?"

"Oh English, you worry too much." Angie grinned, somehow finding the strength to turn over onto her stomach and lift herself onto all fours, "Now be quick about it. I ain't in a teasing mood, and that cock is plenty wet for a slutty little hole like mine. Sides, you know I don't like kissing ya when your tongues been up my butt."

Peggy blushed furiously as Angie wiggled her delightful bottom at her. Then she slowly got up so she was kneeling behind her lover and then pulled Angie's cheeks apart, exposing Angie's well fucked pussy and above that her incredibly tight bum hole.

In fact, it looked so tiny and tight if Peggy didn't know better she would have thought it was virgin. But she did no better as Peggy had been sodomising her girlfriend pretty much once a day at Angie's insistence, and there was part of Peggy, which yearned to lick the cute hole in front of her not just to help with the dildo to penetrate that tiny hole but because she genuinely had grown to enjoy licking it.

That thought made Peggy blush again before she grabbed a firm hold of the dildo and still pulling apart one of Angie's cheeks with the other hand pressed the toy cock against Angie's arse hole.

She then took a calming breath and reminded herself how easily Angie had taken the sizeable toy up her arse in the past, that she had confessed a love for sodomy that Peggy could never truly understand but have fully embraced in the name of pleasing this girl she so adored, and then in the name of that she slowly pushed forward and watched in fascination as once again Angie's most private hole easily opened for her.

The second she had felt Peggy spreading her cheeks Angie had grabbed her precious pillow and then placed it down in front of her ready.

Then when Peggy finally put pressure on her ass hole Angie quickly buried her face in that pillow, getting there in the nick of time as no sooner had she pressed her face into that soft object she let out a loud cry as she was anally penetrated by her best female friend turned lesbian lover, her eyelids fluttering with joy as her back door slowly stretched for that man-made meat.

Angie's first girlfriend had talked her into using a strap-on, and right after she had fucked her cunt she had asked for her other cherry. Which was totally unfair as Angie had been blissed out and so grateful to her lover she would have done anything she asked, but it worked out for the best as Angie really, really loved getting fucked in the ass.

It certainly wasn't something she advertised, but she was kind of an anal slut, which was more than a bit problematic as talking girls into licking her pussy was hard enough, talking them into fucking her up the ass was nearly impossible.

All the more reason she had hit the jackpot with Peggy, as although the prim and proper woman needed to be talked into it at first, and she confessed it wasn't her favourite thing, Peggy was almost superhumanly skilled at this, like she was with everything else, putting all other girls to shame as she sodomised her like she had a real cock.

Actually, she was probably better than the Dingle-buries actually born with them, Angie being ashamed she had ever considered letting one near her back door. It had only happened because she got really, really drunk one night, and she recently heard how much guys liked that but not a lot of girls did it.

Now Angie was getting her anal fix and then some, Peggy slowly sliding every inch of that dildo into her back passage, and then beginning to pump in and out of her, Angie's eyes fluttering as she was once again skilfully sodomised by Peggy Carter.

Unfortunately because of their surroundings instead of just enjoying it she had to concentrate on keeping her face buried in that pillow while still being able to breathe, something which was harder than it surely should be given the constant moans, groans, whimpers and cries coming out of her mouth as she got exactly what she wanted.

For her part Peggy was desperately trying to still listen out for any tell-tale signs of discovery, or her worst nightmare come true and an assassin of Leviathan or some other nefarious agency choosing that moment to launch an attack.

Although even the possibility almost seemed worth it to see the look on the face of whoever interrupted them as they were confronted by supposedly prim and proper Peggy Carter using a strap-on dildo to sodomise another woman.

Of course that was merely a fleeting thought as Peggy very much wanted to avoid discovery, not just for their long-term sakes but because there was nothing in this world she loved more than bringing Angie Martinelli pleasure.

Peggy even enjoyed this obscene act to a certain point, and while it would never be her first choice there was something to be said for this unspeakable act of debauchery.

The anal sex, not the lesbianism. Peggy loathed societies rejection of the queers before she even realised that she was one, at least partly, but violating a woman's arse hole for pleasure was something truly unnatural, something she would have never considered if it wasn't for Angie's insistence.

Yet there was something Peggy had grown to find fascinating about the whole ordeal, perhaps especially in the beginning as that tiny hole stretch to not only swallow the head of the toy, but then took the entire length of the dildo inside it, Angie's bowels rearranging to accept every inch of that man-made meat.

And somehow every sound that Angie let out was of pure pleasure, those sounds becoming increasingly loud and pleasure filled when Peggy cautiously picked up the pace.

It was like Angie had truly been given an additional fuck hole. Like her arse hole was literally made to be fucked, and while that thought may have made Peggy blush or giggle under other circumstances right now it very much drove her to butt fuck Angie harder.

Another thing which caused her reaction was remembering how this had hurt Angie a lot at first, but she had been lucky enough to find a few women willing to frequently sodomise her in the past, loosening her up back there. And the thought of that, of other women touching what was hers made Peggy irrationally jealous.

At that moment Angie lifted her head out of sheets and moaned, "Harder English! Fuck me, fuck my ass-"

"Hush darling!" Peggy said firmly, grabbing hold of Angie's head and pushing it back into the pillow.

Angie was glad Peggy did that as gently as possible, but at the same time she almost wished she had been more forceful. Not that she was one of those gals who got off on being slapped around, but from time to time she liked to be manhandled. Or more accurately womanhandled, and Peggy Carter showing her physical superiority, oh boy, that was hot.

Especially when Peggy was fucking her in the ass. Fortunately Peggy knew this about her, and Peggy Carter was willing to do anything to please her, hence the dildo up her ass right now. Which meant Peggy kept her hand on the back of her head, using just enough force to keep her down without completely smothering her.

It was tough to breathe, for sure, but totally worth it, this added act of dominance on Peggy's part enough to satisfy Angie, at least temporarily.

However after that Peggy started giving her what she really wanted, namely a harder butt fucking, Angie letting out a loud cry of joy into her pillow until the sound of Peggy's thighs smacking against her butt cheeks was almost as loud as the radio which was now struggling to mask the debauchery going on here.

By which Angie meant the butt sex, as nothing felt more natural to her than being with another girl, even if she did get a kick out of just how horrified Miriam and most of her neighbours would be if they found her being butt fucked by Peggy.

Weirdly that thought pushed her towards her orgasm almost as much as Peggy's now hard thrusts. Not that there was much, if anything, which could slow her role now her slutty little back door was getting pounded, Angie once again praying to a God who may throw her into the fire for falling in love with Peggy Carter, and she would never understand what was so terrible about that, yet still she prayed she would cum soon because she didn't know how much longer she could stay quiet as she was now, which was still pretty loud.




Hush Darling



Luckily for her Peggy Carter was on the case, as almost always the older woman giving her what she wanted exactly when she needed it.

Angie remembered the first time she came from having a dildo up her butt. She had been so amazed at the ecstasy she had felt, but Peggy Carter had redefined her understanding of ecstasy, and cumming while Peggy was pounding her butt was too wonderful for her to accurately describe.

Especially as just when she didn't think it could get any better Peggy pulled her legs out from under her, falling with her so that Angie ended up laying down flat with her voluptuous lover on top of her.

That meant Peggy's big boobs were pressing into her back and the other brunette's breath was on her neck as Peggy continued ramming her rectum, ass pounding Angie through amazingly powerful orgasm after amazingly powerful orgasm.

Peggy briefly considered reaching over to turn up the radio to drown out Angie's screams of pleasure and the sounds of their bodies connecting.

However that would have gained just as much, if not more, attention from their neighbours, so Peggy settled for pushing Angie's face as firmly as she dared into the pillow and praying that they would not be discovered.

At the very least for the next few minutes, Peggy determine to thoroughly pleasure her lover in the way which she loved so much. In fact Peggy was determined at this point she wasn't sure that the SSR, their neighbours or even Miriam could get her to stop sodomising Angie Martinelli.

It wasn't just because Peggy was addicted to pleasuring Angie, although that was true as there was nothing in this world Peggy loved more than making Angie feel good, hence why she was willing to do anything for or to her, including this unspeakable act.

However to her initial horror Peggy found herself very much enjoying it, and not just because of the stimulator bashing against her clit with every thrust.

No, there was some twisted part of her which enjoyed inflicting this upon Angie. Made her feel powerful and in control, in a way she'd never felt during her time at the SSR. Or at least not during working hours.

That intoxicating dominance over another woman, of doing something so unspeakable to her and having her enjoy it, the stimulator on her clit and perhaps most importantly of all making her sweet Angie cum all combined to make Peggy receive an orgasm of her own.

It was nowhere near as powerful as the ones Angie were receiving, but it was still plenty satisfying, as were the ones that followed, for a while Peggy becoming blissfully lost in ass fucking her secret girlfriend.

Then, who knows how many minutes/hours later, Peggy became aware of Angie whimpering softly, a clear sign that the poor girl was ready for her to stop.

Remembering a previous conversation Peggy didn't do so right away, instead slowing down her thrusts until she was gently pumping Angie's ass hole, bringing them both down slowly from their highs.

When she was sure Angie was out of the woods so to speak Peggy rolled them so they were on their sides, the English woman spooning the Italian American from behind while finally bringing the sodomy to an end.

Peggy then softly whispered sweet nothings into Angie's ear for a couple of minutes, before her lover whimpered a reply, "God English, that was so good." 

"Hush darling." Peggy grinned into Angie's ear, causing both women to giggle softly.

The End.



Hush Hush…My Lady



Dedicated to all the ladies, married, mature, metaphysical. Your very essence is the source of the river.

I caught your eye at the bookstore. Or perhaps you caught mine first, though you'd never admit. I was reading, having a coffee, always available but not really looking. You were in your tight jeans, white blouse, understated but elegant. I noticed your wedding band. Your rings, your clothing, classy.

I became self-conscious, my face, my look, my body. I flexed almost involuntarily, and then looked up. Now your eyes were in a magazine, but you felt mine all over you...your curves, full breasts, big ass. I liked your nose, your cheekbones clean hair. I waited, you would not look up. I sent you a message, telepathic, unable to block it..."Baby would I like to fuck you deep!" I looked down again, attempting to read, feeling my heartbeat.

Your eyes were on me; I sensed it and looked up. I caught your eye. Got you! We froze. The electricity static. I smiled, broadly. You responded. I got up, walked over. You waited, predator or prey? I didn't care.

We spoke a little, my smile never leaving my face, your interest piqued all the while. We kept the conversation superficial: books; magazines; spirituality.

I could tell you were married, settled, enduring a slight ennui with the passing years. I just wanted to tear through it, release your inner daemon, feel you break in my clutches. But I held off, showered you with compliments, straining not to touch you whilst all the while caressing your ego.

"Your cleanliness makes me feel clean."

"Your mind turns me on."

"I like your style, sassy, classic."

You were understated, gave no indication of excitement, but I sensed your interest.

"Life is a moment," I said, "it passes but never ends. We will soon be gone, but the moment goes on. Seize it with me."

You responded, saying just enough to let me go on.

"You're a stunner you know. Your natural sexuality is driving me wild, beastlike."

Your eyes said, "Continue".

"The first thing I noticed about you..."

"Yes..." (You are alert, attentive).

"Your ass...God what an ass. Your feet, sultry, feminine...your nose, oozing sensuality"

"Oh don't" you interjected, shy but willing. "Stop."

"Never, my lady..." I continued, "I could devour you right here, right now."

You went red, flushed with excitement and embarrassment simultaneously.

"But your mind, your mind is the greatest of all the turn-ons."

"But what do you know of my mind?" you interjected.

"The way you move, the way you sip, the way you talk...all are a factor of your sensual, feline mind. I can feel it. You endure the masses, you're one of them, but you feel superior, unique, un-noticed. But I notice..."

You smiled, shifted. I had hit a chord, but you weren't sure whether to pursue it.

I went on, "You know there is more to it all than this."

"Yes but..." now you responded, "but that involves so much more. So much more. My meditation teach..."

"Hold on." I stopped you, "hold on... You are your own teacher. You are your own light. Your life is yours, and you need no teachers. You have the moment right here to seize..."

There was a long silence, filled only with the cat-like stare we shared. My eyes penetrating your eyes, and yours mine.

"May I whisper?" I asked, feeling for the vulnerability of the moment.

You smiled, allowing me for the first time, deep into your space, your scent, so personal.

I moved in. I hesitated, smelling your neck, your hair, allowing my lips to touch your ear as I whispered:

"Is your pussy very wet my love?"

I waited, letting our skin encounter each other in my slow retreat, noticing the wrinkles in your neck that betrayed the youth, which you had so skillfully retained in your appearance and image.

You were crimson now, the previous flushes were nothing compared to his genuine outpouring of emotion.

"But" you hastened, "but I'm marr..." I put my index finger on your lips and you were instantly silent.

"The light shines on us today, the light that burns within you, burns within me. Don't question it...don't analyse it, leave your opinions behind with the rest of your burdens..."

I lent in again, uninvited but completely welcome.

"I want you."

I stayed in your field of dreams. "I want every inch of you. Just get up with me now, don't look at me, don't talk to me...but walk with me, side by side, my equal, my destiny..."

We were very close now. A closeness of heart, of companionship. A closeness that knew no contracts or commitments other than the unfettered attention of each other. The total absorption of our persons in each other's space.

I got up off my chair. You off yours. You did look at me. I was not smiling, but my heart shone within and you felt it in yours. I got into my car, you got into yours. I drove, you followed.

In my apartment we didn't speak, not even knowing each other's name. I put my lips to yours, we touched our tongues. I felt your heart beat against mine. I listened to your quickening breath. I felt my temperature rise 1 or 2 degrees, the sweat slowly forming in droplets on my temple, my neck, my chest.

I felt all of you, your ears and neck. The soft folds of skin under your arms. The flesh at your navel, human and real, and oozing with sensuality. Your feet. How I devoured you, smelling, kissing, breathing in your naked feet. Your thighs, heavy and full, concealing the avenue to my nirvana...and your scent, your every scent, fuelling me, making me wild and free and visceral.

And every time that I broke the law of your past, the perversions disallowed in your ritual past, I set you free, and in so doing gained my own liberty. With every touch that was forbidden, every place man was not allowed to go in a woman, every ecstasy that culture and creed had disavowed, I set you free my lady, raised you high and catapulted you far, and exposed your shining reflection.



Hush, Hush, Sweet Carly



Carly threw her overnight bag on the bed with a sigh. She really hadn't wanted to come here this weekend, no matter how much she loved her grandmother. Something about the old house had spooked her when she was a child, and even though she was an adult now, and had nothing specific to put her finger on, that creepy-crawly feeling at the base of her spine had reappeared the minute she had walked through the front door.

She turned to leave the room, but noticed the closet door was standing open, just an inch or so, but enough to offend her sense of neatness. Carly walked to the door and pushed on it, feeling just a slight resistance against her palm, then the resistance evaporated, and it shut with a definite click.

**********

Carly dreamed. 

The closet door swung open silently -- no creak of hinges to betray its movement. Carly sighed in her sleep. When she fell quiet once again, the silence in the room was heavy with anticipation. She coughed once, then turned onto her back, and began to dream again.

The rough hands skimmed smoothly down her sides, causing her to move restively under the sheets. The same hands pushed Carly's thighs apart, stroking the soft inner skin as a prelude to further intimacies. At their touch there, she almost woke, "Wha...?"

"Hush...you are dreaming. Go back to sleep," came the whispered, mesmeric reply. Carly complied with the demand, and settled back down, sighing once again. The hands on her thighs stroked again, delicately this time, their touch feather-light, before they pushed her thighs wider apart. Carly's sleep heavy limbs offered no resistance.

Lips followed where the hands had so recently been. The heat of them on her skin caused Carly to squirm, but a hand laid gently on her belly quieted her again, and the lips continued upwards, pausing at the juncture of thigh and hip for a moment, and sucking gently on the soft skin there. Carly gasped, but still locked in a dream, she didn't wake.

The hands pulled Carly's panties to one side, exposing her pussy to the warm air. A tongue pushed out from between the lips and teased her open. Lips fastened on her clit, pulling and tugging gently. Carly's breathing quickened in response, and her legs opened even wider still. 

The hands returned, pulling her open for the tongue to reach inside her before the lips returned to her clit. A finger teased her opening before sliding inside. It stroked her inside as it had stroked her thigh just moments before. Wetness glistened in a stray bit of moonlight, and the hands and lips became more insistent; suckling harder, pushing deeper.

Carly's hips started moving involuntarily, rocking on the fingers inside her and pushing against the lips locked onto her clit. Her eyes opened briefly, then shut again, preferring dreams, perhaps. The fingers stroked her harder, the lips pulled at her clit, drawing her orgasm from her at last. Carly moaned with it, and the sound of her own voice echoing through the room brought her to wakefulness. She pushed damp locks off her forehead, turned onto her side, then noticed the slickness between her legs. Must've been some dream went through her mind. 

A flicker of red seen out of the corner of her eye brought her fully awake. Were those eyes? Carly sat up in her bed, and looked around the room. Glimpsed through the slight moonlight entering through the window, everything looked the same as it had when she'd gone to bed several hours before, except the closet door was slightly open. I thought I'd closed that damn door, she thought as she got out of bed and crossed to the closet. There was no resistance this time; it closed with a soft click.

**********

Carly stumbled downstairs, following the smell of fresh coffee and bacon cooking to the kitchen. Her grandmother was in the midst of cooking a big breakfast. She smiled as she moved about the kitchen, happy to have people to cook for again.

"Mom and Jeff haven't made it downstairs?" she asked, as she helped herself to coffee, and then stirred sugar and milk into her mug.

"No, not yet. I think your mother's glad of the break. She'll probably sleep awhile. Jeff was playing that video game when I finally went to bed. No telling what time he finally headed upstairs." Her grandmother brought down the breadpan, and began making biscuits.

Carly sat down at the table with her coffee. "Yeah, he does that a lot."

The two women lapsed into silence, Carly sipping her coffee, and her grandmother shaping the biscuits and placing them in the pan. When she was through, she refilled her coffee, and sat down at the table across from Carly. "Did you sleep okay last night, hon? You're awfully quiet this morning."

"Yeah, I guess I did. I had a weird dream though. And that closet door was open again."

"I would've thought you'd forgotten all about that door by now. You were so sure when you were little that there was something in there. I don't know how many times your grandfather would have to show you that there was nothing in the closet." Carly's grandmother chuckled at the memory.

Carly shuddered at the memory; there was nothing funny about that closet to her, even after all these years. Her grandmother saw a grimace pass quickly over Carly's features, and asked, "That closet doesn't still give you the heebie-jeebies, does it?"

"No, I'm okay." Carly couldn't admit to such a childish fear here in the warm security of her grandmother's kitchen.

"Good." Her grandmother got up to check the biscuits and began scrambling the eggs for breakfast. "Why don't you go wake your mom and your brother up and tell them to get their behinds down here for breakfast."

"Okay, Gran."

**********

Despite her resolve to stay awake, Carly felt herself slipping quickly into sleep again. I shut that door...made sure it was shut, was her last thought before she gave in, and slid under the tide of dreams. It took her quickly, pulling her into deep slumber almost immediately.

The closet door opened slowly, almost imperceptibly, as if it were testing Carly's sleep. Twin orbs of red gleamed briefly in the closet's depths, then disappeared. A momentary quiet, then the covers over Carly started drifting downward, exposing her lithe body to the night. Hands skimmed down Carly's sides again. She whimpered, almost under her breath, and a whispered voice commanded, "Hush."

Carly quieted, following the command, and teeth gleamed brightly white in the scant light from the moon. A slight touch on her forehead was followed by another command to "Hush."

She woke to the click of the closet door shutting behind her. The dark around her in the closet seemed to vibrate with the heartbeat of some other world. The twin red eyes gleamed at her out of the darkness, and she was gone.

**********

Herald-Citizen, Cookeville, Tennessee

November 1, 2006

Strange rumors continue to surround the disappearance of 18-year-old Carly Spencer one year ago today. Ms. Spencer disappeared from her grandmother's home during a weekend visit last year. Her family hasn't heard from her since.

Police are baffled by the lack of clues left behind. They first suspected it was simply a case of a teen runaway, but according to friends and family of Ms. Spencer, she was not one to do something so drastic.

Ms. Spencer was a freshman at the University of Tennessee, was active in her social sorority, and in her church, and by all accounts was very close to her family, visiting almost every weekend.

Anyone with any information as to the whereabouts of Ms. Spencer is urged to contact the Cookeville Police Department.

Her family was unavailable for comment.



Hush, Little Baby



Molly was always losing things—the car keys she locked in the car that ended up stolen, the ATM card she loaned to an ex-boyfriend, the savings she had invested in the bogus mining stock. It took her years to admit they weren't just accidents, acts of God, the world setting itself against her. 

She hadn't admitted it after she lost that first wayward child to a car coming a little too fast down a residential street. She hadn't admitted it after Leslie—the one she had tried to atone for her mistakes with—gone at the age of fifteen for three years before surfacing again with a newborn. 

She had spent years believing in bad luck, that these things just happened to her. Now she found herself crying alone in her bed and listening to the sound of her granddaughter in her crib—never crying, this one, just singing to herself, playing with her fingers until someone thought to come get her—and wondering how her own little girl could possibly have made such a mess of her life.

Like mother, like daughter.

She knew the baby was expecting her mother. Leslie was usually up nursing her by now, singing that song, the one Molly had always sung to all of her babies, even the lost one. Molly hummed it to herself, remembering the words, "Hush little baby, don't say a word, Momma's gonna buy you a mockingbird..."

Leslie's words last night crowded into her head. "He loves me—he's the only person who has ever loved me!"

How can she believe that? 

She had tried to love Leslie, but she understood more than ever—young mothers often make selfish choices. Going out to bars, meeting men and drinking had all once taken precedence over Molly's own child. She knew that now. It didn't matter that she'd been clean and sober and alone these last eight years. Leslie remembered the mother who slept on the couch until noon and forgot to get her up for school. That was the mother she thought didn't love her.

Molly got up, knowing she would have to call in to work and figure out how to feed this motherless child. Raising a baby by herself at forty-two couldn't be much different than raising one alone at twenty-two. 

Looking around, she saw that the room was just a nursery now—Leslie's clothes, the suitcase she had come with three months ago, everything else that belonged to her—all gone. Except the baby.

When Leslie showed up on her doorstep just after Jessica's birth, swearing she wasn't going to stay long, she just didn't have anywhere else, Molly's heart soared. This little girl, now nestled under her chin, was a second chance.

Things seemed perfect then, waking up to a house filled with people-noise again, rushing home from the restaurant with dinner for them in styrofoam containers. She remembered longing all the way home to hold this soft, warm baby, to let Grandma Molly's necklace dangle in front of her tiny outstretched hands, to nuzzle her neck and make her laugh. 

Never mind that Leslie spewed hatred at Molly at every turn. Never mind that Leslie swore that this was the last place on earth she wanted to be. Never mind that most nights, Leslie left the baby in her crib to go out on a date, using Molly as a built-in babysitter. Really, she didn't mind. 

This was her second chance—a chance to show Leslie that she was loved. Never mind that Leslie rejected her again and again. Instead, Molly just poured as much love as she could into her little granddaughter. 

The baby's hunger got the best of her and she began to make small mewling sounds, rooting with her rosebud mouth for a nipple. Molly didn't want to be this baby's mother—she wanted to be Leslie's mother, and she wanted Leslie back, to mother her own baby. Jessica belonged to her mother, just as Leslie would always be hers, wherever she was on this bright summer morning. 

Molly headed toward the kitchen to see if there was any stored breast milk in the freezer. Leslie pumped her milk so she could go out on with her friends or on dates. Molly, concerned about the concentrated efforts of the baby in her arms to find food, found a plastic bag with stored milk and removed it with one hand, balancing Jessie on her shoulder with the other. 

It was only when she closed the freezer and started for the sink that she saw the note flutter down to the floor. It hadn't been there yesterday, before or after their argument, and when she peered down at it, she saw that it was written in Leslie's large, girlish scrawl. 

"Maybe Mommy's coming home soon, Jess," Molly said under her breath, not believing it even as she carefully bent to retrieve the note. 

It was from Leslie, and it contained news that she didn't think she could ever come to terms with. She didn't know if Leslie would ever come to terms it, either, even twenty years down the road. Did anyone ever come to terms with the choices they made when they were young? She wondered.

"Poor Jessie," Molly whispered as the baby cried, protesting the plastic nipple. 

Molly rocked and rocked, wondering if the world of hurt she lived in would ever end. 

*****

Leslie stood under the hot shower, her breasts heavy and aching, a steady stream of thin, whitish milk running down her belly with the water, uselessly circling the drain. Her tears mixed with it, too, as she leaned her forehead on the tile, sobbing for everything she had left behind. 

"Les?" It was Ali's voice from behind the bathroom door. 

"Coming!" she called, turning off the water. 

She heard him getting ready and smiled. The suit she had chosen for him was a deep, charcoal gray, not quite as dark as his eyes. She used a big, white bath towel to dry off, just patting her tender breasts. Wrapping her hair in the towel, she turned and straightened her dress on the hanger. 

He wanted her to wear white—and so it was white, a knee-length, satin and lace combination that made her feel dizzy just looking at it. She couldn't believe she was going to stand beside him wearing it. 

"Hurry up," he called, knocking on the door again. "I have to use the bathroom, too."

The sight of her long, auburn hair as she whipped off the towel gave her a twinge—her body remembered the soft red fuzz covering her baby's head, and just the thought sent tiny rivulets of milk flowing down over her belly. Leslie bit her lip and stood on the towel, using the hair dryer to drown out the noise in her head. 

"I have to go!" The door opened and Ali came in, stepping around her nude form toward the toilet. He was wearing just his boxer-briefs. "Sorry, couldn't wait." 

"What time is it?" she asked, turning off the hair dryer and watching him shake off the last few drops. 

"We still have a couple hours before we have to be there," he said, edging her out of the way with his hip and washing his hands. He looked at her reflection in the mirror, his eyes on her breasts. "Are you still leaking?"

"I can't help it," she said, putting her palms over her nipples. There was just no stopping the aching flow. 

"I'm sorry," he said, putting his arms around her from behind, his hands over hers, cupping her breasts. "We will have so many more children. I promise you."

She nodded, closing her eyes and feeling his body pressing into hers, but she didn't believe it. Jessica was going to be okay—her mother would care for the baby, probably much better than she had ever cared for Leslie, if these last few months were any indication. Certainly better than she could care for Jessie herself. 

Besides, Ali was the best thing that had ever happened to her. 

"I just—you're sure that your parents couldn't ever accept—?"

"Leslie!" He put his dark head down on her shoulder. "We've been over this a hundred times. They would disown me. It's bad enough that you're not Muslim and we're getting married in a court house!"

"I know." She turned in his arms, putting her head on his chest. 

"You know what happened to my brother," he said, rocking gently. "A child out of wedlock, one that didn't even belong to me? My parents would never speak to me again... and who would care for them, then?"

"I know, I know," she whispered, closing her eyes against it.

"I thought you were sure?" he asked, lifting her chin to look at her. "That this is what you wanted?"

"I am." She went up on tiptoe to kiss him. "It is."

This was her sacrifice, and she had agreed to make it for him—for them. For a life, a future together. 

"They're so heavy," Ali remarked, his hands moving over her breasts, his eyes bright. 

Leslie winced. "I know. I'm afraid I'm going to leak all over my dress, even with nursing pads."

He looked at her, aghast. "Do they hurt?"

She nodded. "It's just because they're so full. I wish I'd thought to bring my pump."

"Maybe I can help?" He was smiling, watching the sticky-sweet milk beading on her fat, pink nipples. He touched one with his thumb, spreading the thin liquid over her areola. 

"How?" she asked, shivering at his touch. His hands were magic, and she could never resist them. 

"It's not like I haven't done it before," he said with a smile, steering her over to the toilet and sitting her down on the lid. 

She smiled, giving him a bemused look. "What are you doing?" 

"Helping," he said, kneeling between her bare thighs, he lifted one of her heavy breasts in his hand. 

She had started fairly small-chested, but her breasts had grown two sizes when she was pregnant, and yet another size when her milk came in. She hadn't nursed the baby in almost twenty-four hours, and her pale skin was now taut, full to bursting with fluid.

"Oh, god," she whispered when he put his mouth over her nipple, beginning to suck. 

She gasped, watching white droplets pooling at the tip her other nipple as he brought her milk to the surface. The tell-tale tingling sensation in her chest told her that she was really beginning to flow. He was swallowing, faster and faster, his eyes on hers.

Putting her hand in his hair, she watched his mouth work against her breast. He was sucking hard, making little groaning noises in his throat. The pressure was subsiding already, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

"That feels so good," she murmured, wiggling on the seat. Her pussy was getting wet, watching his mouth pursed around her nipple. 

He lifted his head, licking his lips, and she could see how shiny his mouth was from her milk. She leaned in and kissed him, always startled by how sweet and light the taste was. 

"I should do this one, too," he murmured, licking at the fat, pink bud on the other side before latching onto her and beginning to suck. Leslie moaned, reaching for his hand and pressing it between her legs. 

He made a sound in his throat, his eyes on hers as he parted her shaved lips with his fingers, finding the tender swell of her clit and rubbing as he continued to suckle at her breast. She could feel her milk flowing full and thick now, a heavy flow that dribbled out of the corners of his mouth. He swallowed and swallowed, and when she looked down, she could see how hard he was through his shorts.

"Yes," she whispered, biting her lip as he nudged her clit with his finger toward its delicious release. Everything felt full to bursting, her swollen pussy, her distended breasts, and she knew that it wouldn't take much more stimulation to bring it all to a shuddering end.

His mouth worked her nipple, sucking hard, swallowing her milk in gulps. She could see his other hand rubbing his cock through his shorts, and the sight pushed her even closer. She could feel him rubbing her clit in fast little circles, her belly beginning to flutter with her impending orgasm, and the added stimulation of him suckling her breasts was too much. "Ali," she whispered. "Make me cum." 

He slipped his mouth off her breast, sliding down to her pussy and licking her there while he squeezed each of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, milking what was left in her breasts. 

Moaning, she couldn't hold it back any longer, and she came hard, her pussy quivering against his tongue. Her breasts were leaking down his hands as she came, long rivers of thin, white milk running down her belly, making criss-crossing trails that led all the way down between her legs and disappeared between her wet, swollen pussy lips. He lapped up her juices and her milk, making low, happy grunting noises deep in his throat. 

"I want to fuck your tits," he murmured, pressing her heavy breasts between them as he pulled her off the toilet and she wrapped herself around him. Easing them to the floor, he laid her back and he straddled her. She yanked his shorts down, grabbing hold of his cock and squeezing. 

He groaned as she began sliding the tip of him through the sticky sheen of milk all over her breasts, pressing them together around his cock. He slid through the wetness, up and down the slick crevice she made between them with her hands. 

She wiggled underneath him as his stiff length wedged between the generous, wet flesh of her breasts, rocking on top of her, building a faster and faster friction. He reached down and tweaked her nipples, watching milk still beading there as he fucked her breasts. Moving her hands, he pressed and kneaded her flesh around his cock himself now, working it even faster between.

"You like my milk?" she whispered, watching his eyes—even half-closed they were focused on the swell of her breasts. "You like fucking my tits?"

"Yes," he grunted, making a low noise and thrusting hard. She watched his eyes, taken by the look of pleasure on his face, his cock hot, throbbing steel between her breasts as he began to cum. She reached her tongue out to catch some, thick, hot jets spurting over her breasts, her chin, wave after wave merging with the sticky mess of her own milk. 

In the moments afterward, as they cleaned each other up, Leslie knew she loved him more than anything in the world. She had made a decision, and she was going to stick by it. There was nothing that made her feel like he made her feel. She stood at the mirror and brushed her hair as he went out to get dressed, seeing her mother's face, and her daughter's, staring back at her.

"I love him," she whispered into the mirror. "I'm sorry."

Even as she said it, her breasts were tingling and filling again with milk. 

*****

"Hush little baby, don't say a word..." Molly propped the baby up over her shoulder, pacing the floor, back and forth. She felt like she was wearing the carpet here, she'd walked the day away in this spot. 

She sighed, sitting back down on the sofa and reaching for the bottle. The baby screamed louder when it was pressed to her lips, the cries loud and piercing. 

"I'm sorry," Molly whispered, wiping her own tears away. "But this is all there is, Jess."

The baby seemed almost to understand, and she took a few swallows, but then started screaming again, her tiny legs kicking the blanket off her feet. 

Molly stood and began pacing again, the only thing that seemed to calm Jessie for a few moments. Back and forth, bouncing as she went, singing the song, "Hush little baby, don't say a word..."

"Momma's gonna buy you a mockingbird..." Leslie's shaky voice from the doorway made Molly whirl in shock. Her daughter was standing there, wearing a long white dress, the front of it wet, soaked right through. 

"Leslie?" Molly's eyes were wide, but her heart was beating hard with thanksgiving in her breast. "Are you ok?"

"I am now," Leslie said, reaching for her daughter. Molly handed her over and watched as she sat on the sofa, yanking the dress off her shoulder and exposing her breast. The baby had stopped crying the minute she heard her mother's voice, and now she looked up at her with wide, hungry eyes, her mouth rooting around for the nipple she knew was there.

Leslie sobbed as the baby latched on, and Molly sat beside them both, putting her arm around her daughter and rocking. She didn't know what had happened—she just knew that her baby had come home. Her daughter had made the right choice and, for once, something that she had lost had been found again. 

Molly's eyes filled with tears as she sang, "Hush little baby, don't say a word..." 



Hush Money



My fingers fumble at the unfamiliar clasp. I slip back into my high heels and step out of the cramped change room and into the waiting area. I can't keep him waiting too long, he may get bored. If the moment is lost he'll be disappointed with me. Disappointment is worse than anger; his sorrowful punishment is deeper and slower. 

It is midday and there are only a couple of other women in the main part of the store. There are no bored and tired men sitting in the deep chairs set between the mirrors of the plushly carpeted room. He is alone, still seated, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief. I have belonged to him for long enough to have forgotten life any other way; even though I know he has been happy to keep me I also know that he could choose to walk away anytime. I cannot make that choice but I dread the day he will make it for me. 

He moves a finger, indicating I should turn around. Slowly. The tight bra pushes my breasts together and offers me to him. My dark nipples are easily visible and I hope he will be pleased. The filmy scrap of lace covering the cheeks of my ass suggests more than it hides. 

"Yes."

I smile and thank him. He is very good to me. 

We repeat the sequence twice more but on the fourth presentation he says, "No". I am crestfallen, knowing I have not presented myself to him in a flattering form. I make my way back to the change room, hoping I haven't displeased him too much. It is not the physical punishment that I will be given when we get home, although my cunt clenches with the anticipated pain. It is understanding that even after the careful training he has given me I am still capable of making a mistake. 

Before I turn to close the door of the change room he slips inside and puts a finger to my lips. I know that this is dangerous; being caught together here could lead to an ugly situation with the store manager and he cannot afford the exposure. I feel proud that he has risked this to show his displeasure to me immediately.

He holds his hand out, palm down, fingers straight. I drop to my knees. He rests his hand on my head and I unbuckle his belt, wishing that he could use it on my ass without attracting the unwanted attention. I pull the zipper of his pants down and release his penis from behind his shorts. 

He twines his fingers in my hair and I gratefully move my mouth to cover his cock. He uses my hair to set the pace, first slowly, then faster, then slowly again. I wish there was a way to hold back the gush of juice; I am getting wet and I will soak these panties I don't own. 

With a tug he lets me know that I am to stand up. Regretfully I let his cock slip from my lips and stand to face him. He makes a circle in the air with his finger again and I turn around. His hands circle my waist and I raise my arms above my head. I shudder as the heat of his touch moves up my body. He lifts my breasts out of their borrowed confinement and kneads them with his strong hands. I watch in the mirror as he pinches first one, then the other nipple. Harder. Harder. Harder, please! I want to moan but I can't make a sound or the punishment will be much, much worse when we get home. He is pinching so hard now that my breath is coming in shallow gasps and I try to grind my ass into his hips. 

He steps away suddenly and I would stumble if not for the last points of contact; his fingers on my nipples. 

I am a Bad Girl and he will punish me. I can't wait. 

He places a hand on the back of my neck and I bend at the waist, grasping my ankles. The high heels make me a little unsteady so I spread my legs a little further apart. With a finger he pulls the panties to one side. Please don't tear them, I beg silently. 

I feel the head of his cock between my legs, between my lips, sliding to push against my clit, and then suddenly, he is inside me.

The door fell slightly ajar when he moved and I watch the mirror across the room from between my legs. I can see his hot cock sliding in and out of me, his large balls hitting the tender flesh between my legs. Can he see what I see? I turn slightly and am glad that he can watch the mirror on the change room wall, a much better view. 

The risk, the uncomfortable position, the strength of his cock slamming into me brings me quickly to orgasm but before I can release he stops and pulls away. I reach out to stop myself from falling. He grabs my arm and pulls me around. He gestures and I am once again on my knees. His hand on my cheek tells me that I cannot have his cock in my mouth and I moan quietly with disappointment. I lick his balls, lightly, delicately, like a cat, the way he likes me to. His large hand matches his large cock and I feel his balls tighten under my tongue. 

The cum he shoots onto my throat and breasts is spicy and sweet at the same time; I lick him clean and then kiss his cock before pulling his pants back up, zipping them and buckling the belt. He slips out of the change room, leaving me to kneel on the floor for a moment longer. I know I can't have my release yet; that won't be allowed until he is there to watch it.

The sweet cum has also landed on the bra and the panties are soaked with my juice. He did not approve of these; I don't dare to try to buy them myself. I take a few bills out of my purse and leave them on the discarded underwear now puddled on the floor. Hush money.