10 comments/ 40517 views/ 3 favorites Zodiac Girls Ch. 02 By: damppanties Chapter 2: Aquarius, Arielle Thanks, dr_m for the great idea. Elizabetht for wielding the whip. :D and CharleyH for a fantastic edit. ~~~~~ Deliberate Aquarius Who gives to all a helping hand, But bows her head to no command- And higher laws doth understand? Inventor, Genius, Superman. -Aquarius! ~~~~~ Arielle opened the door of her hotel room to an exquisite arrangement of orchids. 'God! Not another one!' She was tired of these flower arrangements which had been following her around from one place to another on her vacation! This was her time for relaxing and pampering herself. It was long overdue after the years she had put into single-handedly making a go of Ken's company after he had died. It had not been easy, learning the ropes and getting the ailing publishing house back into shape. Nevertheless, the work had interested Arielle and the need to be independent had spurred her on, so that now she was head and shoulders above her competitors. Four years of dedication to work had been tiring but she had only become aware of it when she was forced by her personal secretary-cum-friend, Paula, to get away from it with a heartfelt wish not to see her back in office for at least two weeks. Arielle had given in and chosen this exotic, far-off location carefully in order to loosen up and enjoy herself. The earthy buildings, sleepy towns and bustling cities she had visited in the past two weeks had been just what she had needed. Truly, she was in love with India. The tour had consisted of Calcutta, Delhi, Jaipur, Agra, and now finally, a small sleepy town in the foot of the Himalayas - Simla. The bright colours, the architecture, Taj Mahal, forts in Delhi and Jaipur, the dark- skinned people with white, smiling teeth, the temples with their adorned gods, all of that had filled her with an enthusiasm for living, lost partly with Ken's death. This vacation was the best thing to have happened to her lately. But now... these blasted flowers. She hated mysteries. She wanted things immediately. She liked to be in control. It was just not in her nature to look forward to surprises and things, which took a long time in coming, making her curious and irritated in waiting for them. Her mom always said she couldn't even wait for her birth. She had arrived three weeks earlier than she was due, surprising everyone in early February. Arielle smiled for a moment at the fond memories of this recollection, but then got back to the present. What was she going to do about the flowers? For the meantime, she picked them up and dumped them on the table in her hotel room. She would think about them later, after dinner. Who knows, she might even keep them. They were flowers after all. Whoever was sending them was being a pain, but at least the flowers were beautiful. A glass of water into the bowl holding them and she was off. The dining room of the hotel she had picked was small and cosy without being claustrophobic. The tables were far apart and she could concentrate on eating in the lazy atmosphere. She chose the same table she had been taking for the past two days that she had been there. The same, elderly waiter smiled at her and came forward with the menu in his hand. She let him order for her as she had been doing, his choice's had been good and besides, she didn't know what the Indian dishes were anyway. He shuffled away. "Excuse me!" she suddenly called out after him. He turned, a startled look on his face, and came back to her table. "Any problem, Miss?" "No. No problem." She was embarrassed to have called him back that way. She smiled at him. "I just wanted to ask you something. I got a beautiful flower arrangement from someone. Orchids. It was left outside my room, in front of my door. Any idea where it came from?" The old waiter looked confused. "You don't know, Miss?" "No, I don't. There's no name or card. It's like it just appeared magically." The last sentence was mumbled almost under her breath but the waiter caught it. "What, Miss? Magic?" His eyes had turned enormous and his mouth was shaped into a round 'O'. "No, no. Nothing. Could you get me my dinner now, please? I'll figure out the flower mystery myself." He muttered something under his breath, smiled nervously and moved away. The dinner was fabulous as usual but Arielle didn't know what she was eating. It could have been anything. The spices made it difficult to make out, but the experience was worth having. Just as she was finishing a delicious, brown, gelatinous substance in the name of dessert, the waiter came back to her table. "Maybe Miss would like to see Jyotshi," he said with a bow, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. "What's that?" He tried to hide a smile. Arielle wondered what she had said. "It is a man, Miss. The fortune-teller." "Oh." It took a moment to sink in, and then Arielle tried to hide a smile of her own. "I am not interested in all that. Don't believe the stuff." The old waiter hesitated. "Miss said something about mystery of flowers; the Jyotshi would be able to help." "No, no. It's quite okay. I'm capable of figuring it out for myself." He looked crestfallen. "Miss can try," he persisted. "It's the hotel's night for free services from the Jyotshi." Arielle didn't have the heart to tell him no again. He was a kind soul and had been helping her for the past two days. She nodded and asked him to lead her to the fortune-teller. He led her towards a corner of the garden which was the designated place. The sight, which greeted her, was awesome. A group of people were settled cross-legged on the ground around a man dressed in a saffron robe, a saffron cloth wrapped around his head as a turban. His grey beard almost touched his lap as he sat between the cluster of silent people. His eyes were closed. One hand clicked over brown beads tied together with string and his other hand rested on what looked like a wooden stick shaped like a 'Y'. The air was heavy with the scent of burning incense, accentuating the surreal atmosphere. The lights wavered softly on them, flickering, from several candles lit on the ground around them, surrounding the group like an aura. As Arielle approached the group, the fortune-teller suddenly opened his eyes and stared directly at her, into her eyes. Arielle was taken aback and faltered in her step. How could he have seen her? She had been approaching from the darkened pathway, and he was the one sitting in the light. It was impossible for him to have known that she was coming! She would have turned back if it wasn't for the old waiter urging her on. They reached the group and the waiter led her around them and he conferred with the fortune-teller for a few moments before turning back to Arielle. "Miss, Baba says he is pleased to meet you." Arielle had been eyeing the various people sitting in front of the man. At the waiter's comment she turned around to the fortune-teller. She looked at him. Looked away. Her eyes were drawn back to his intense black gaze. "I'm not sure what is required of me," she said, not breaking the contact with his eyes. "Baba wishes to read your hand, Miss. If you will please..." Palms upward, the fortune-teller extended his hand toward her. 'This was ridiculous!' She was not going to give her hand to some dirty old man just because the waiter was telling her to. The fortune-teller patted the earth beside him. Arielle sank down to her knees, scarcely bothering to think about the white skirt she had on. He put his hand out again. Arielle stared at it for a long moment before putting her hand in his. The brown beads still in his hand touched the back of hers. They were rough. The fortune-teller seemed to be staring at her hand with the utmost concentration. He angled her hand this way and that, once even pressing his hands to the sides of her palm, making her cup the air above it. "Bada achha yog hai." Arielle looked toward the waiter. He smiled broadly. "He says you have a very good fortune, Miss," the waiter announced proudly. Arielle managed a smile and a nod to the waiter with a mental rolling of her eyes. This farce would be over soon. "Jeevan mein bada anokha badlao aane waala hai. Achhe ke liye. Naya hoga to thoda dar lagega, lekin darna nahi. Aage badh kar dono haathon se ye den ko samet lena." Arielle stared at him, his eyes gazing into hers as he uttered the foreign words in a soft but compelling voice. "Baba is telling that there will be a change in your life. Big change, for better. It will be new for you, so you will feel a little bit scared, but don't let that affect you. Move towards the... the treasure and embrace it to yourself," the waiter translated looking a bit uncomfortable with the words. This was useless. Arielle was just about to thank them and be on her way when the fortune-teller started again. "Phir se man mein pyaar jagega. Kumbha rashi hai, badlao achha nahi lagta aapko. Bahot koshish hogi isko dabane ki lekin bhavishya mein likha hai to hoga." The waiter's voice was respectful as he started, "Love will come into your heart again. Baba says you have Kumbha rashi, which means you were born sometime in the period from late January to early February..." Arielle gasped. "5th February! How does he know that?" The waiter bowed his head, questioning the fortune-teller was just not done. "Baba knows, Miss." That was explanation enough. He continued, "Due to your being in the Kumbha rashi, you do not like change. You will try to ignore the love, but if it is written in your fate, it will happen." Arielle had had enough of this stupidity. She snatched her hand out of the fortune-teller's and made a move to rise. "Aapko shayad mera ye kehna achha nahi laga, lekin yeh yaad rakhna. Jo beeth gaya so beeth gaya. Beethey hue kal mein mat jio. Jo aage aane waala hai, usey apnao." The waiter seemed intimidated by her rudeness to the fortune-teller as he translated, in a low voice, "Baba says, maybe you did not like my saying this, but remember this. What is past is past. Do not live in the days, which are over. What is going to come in the future, seize that." "Thank you," Arielle muttered, more to the waiter than the fortune-teller as she rose and walked away from the disconcerting place without a backward glance. She was sure it was all a ruse, built up further by use of the cleverly manipulated atmosphere, the candles and incense, the awe of the waiter and the pure hype built up around that fortune-teller. This was absurd! There was going to be no love in her life. She didn't have the time for it. With that, she decided to dismiss the matter from her mind and enjoy the two days left of her vacation. The next morning, Arielle woke up earlier than she had been doing for the past few days. Going into the balcony attached to her room, she looked out at the garden below. She could see the corner where the fortune-teller had been sitting with his believers, the candles, the incense and the whole mystic aura around him. She remembered his strange prophecy. Love will come into your heart again... It will be new for you so you will feel a little bit scared, but don't let that affect you. Move towards the... the treasure and embrace it to yourself... You will try to ignore the love but if it is written in your fate, it will happen. A scornful laugh escaped her lips. The probability of her finding love was as dim as... as she leaving her thriving business to stay back in this vibrantly different country, making it her home. Which was, impossible. She loved the place but she had a life back home, one she was satisfied with. She didn't want any love to come and upset her orderly life. It was not what she needed. As the cool morning sky started showing streaks of pink, Arielle leaned over the parapet and thought of Ken. It had been an ideal love affair, which had continued even after their marriage. That kind of love came into a person's life only once, that is, if they were lucky. She could not even think of having what she had with Ken repeated with someone else; and she was not willing to settle for anything less. So much for the fortune-teller's crap. Love, indeed! She had had her share of love and she was quite content, thank you. By now, Arielle had blown herself up into illogical righteousness, which closed her mind to anything that could happen. As she raised her head, the first rays of the sun fell on her upturned face, warm and satisfying in the cool morning. She could see far into the valley from where she was standing and the sight was breathtaking. It was a beautiful town. Some far away parts were totally covered in mist, which had also entered the garden and hid the far corners from her view, making it appear romantic and dreamlike. Arielle wrapped her arms around her middle and hugged herself. She was missing Ken. Just as she was about to turn back into her room, she saw some movement out of the corner of her eye, in the garden below. The mist stirred and a man walked out, wearing dark blue jogging pants. His chest was bare, magnificently, deeply bronzed with little, black hair running down the middle. The top of his jogging suit was bunched in his hand. The muscles in his arms were toned to perfection, reflecting the same tautness in his shoulders and abdomen. His jet black hair was slightly damp with perspiration as it fell in moist waves, just long and thick enough to run one's hand through. Even as Arielle was examining what appeared to be an apparition, he looked up, and into her eyes. Intense black eyes locked with pale blue ones, and Arielle felt a chill run through her body. With her arms still around her, Arielle rubbed the sides of her waist, shivering a little. The man stopped, the mist swirled around him, making him seem unreal, and God-like. God-like. Yes, the perfect word to describe him. Arielle noticed his straight, sharp nose; his nostrils flared a bit as he concentrated on her, his kissable lips and his unshaven appearance. He was superb. With this thought still in her mind, Arielle broke eye contact. She was not interested. She whirled around and entered her room. It was not like her to stare at half naked men like that. Mildly irritated with herself, she began the preparations for the day's outing. She had planned to go hiking on a trail recommended by the hotel manager. The day was good, the hike pleasantly tiring. Arielle was awed by the sights she had seen on the trail. After a long, soothing bath in the evening, she decided to thank the manager for pointing her to it. She approached the reception, but was informed that the manager was busy and would be available after half an hour. Arielle decided to have her dinner while waiting for the manager and turning around, she collided into a hard chest. She looked up, to apologise, and was again captivated by those black eyes. He moved away, keeping a hand around her arm to steady her. "I'm sorry," she breathlessly got out. He nodded once, a curt movement of the head. His eyes softened a bit. "Can I help you? Accompany you somewhere?" God! His voice! Deep, resonating, smooth, honeyed; flowing over her senses as she tried to force her sluggish brain to make sense of his words. "No. No, I'm fine. I was just going to the dining room," she managed. "I'll escort you there," he said with a sudden smile. The smile transformed his features to such an extent that he changed from mysterious God to charming stranger. His hand wound around hers as he started across the lobby. Arielle tried to protest. "It's not necessary really. I'm fine. You don't need to..." He cut across her feeble objection. "It's okay. It's just across the lobby." With that, he led her into the inviting dining room and steered her over to a far corner. Arielle tried to tell him that she always sat at a table closer to the door, but he guided her to the farthest table, effectively silencing her protests along the way. They reached the table and he pulled out a chair for her. Arielle hesitated, and then sat down. "May I have the pleasure of dining with you?" Arielle didn't know what to say. She looked up at him and then away. Took a deep breath, let it out slowly and finally, nodded, almost imperceptibly. He took a seat opposite her. "I'm Egan. Egan Sanders." "Arielle Schannon." They looked at each other warily. "Listen, Mr. Sanders..." "Egan," he corrected in a low voice. "Call me Egan." "No!" It came out forcefully. "I will not call you Egan. I... I don't even know who you are. I've just seen you once in the morning and then now... now you force your way into a dinner with me an..." He held up one hand. Her flow of words stopped. She took a deep, calming breath and looked away. She was close to tears and she didn't know why. This was not such a big thing. She could handle it. She tried to compose herself. "Arielle." She looked at back at him. "I am a businessman. My mother was Indian and my father was from Greece. He came down here for a holiday, met my mother, fell in love, married her, stayed here. I'm their only son. I grew up here. Higher education in England. They died when I was twenty. I took over their small business. Expanded it, it's doing quite well. I'm single, charming, good-looking, unabashedly immodest," his lips moved into a grin, "enough of that." He sobered and the intensity in his eyes deepened. "And I saw you today on that balcony. You looked like a dream. I wanted to meet you, to talk to you. That's it. Now you know me. Now, can you have dinner with me?" he finished with a smile and sat back in his chair. Arielle stared at him. She didn't know what she might have said in response because at that time, the waiter came by with the menu and the decision was made for her as Egan ordered for the both of them. Egan was non-threatening and interesting company, and soon Arielle warmed to this stranger. They had a pleasant dinner where both of them shared a little more about themselves, nothing more than edited life histories. The conversation was relaxing. Arielle found herself enjoying the attention he lavished upon her and before dinner was over, she was totally comfortable with him. "Will you spend tomorrow with me?" The question came just as they were finishing desert. Arielle hesitated. "I don't know," she told him honestly. "Tomorrow is the last day of my vacation." He shrugged. "Spend it with me." She didn't say anything. "Do you have anything planned?" he prodded. She shook her head no. "Well, then. It's decided?" Arielle still didn't speak. "Arielle, it's only a day. I'm not asking for much. I'll take you on a trail not many people know about. It's got the best view of Simla. You can't leave this place without seeing that." His words finally convinced Arielle, not that she needed much convincing. She nodded a yes and then started getting up to go to her room. Egan rose with her and accompanied her to the lift, getting in with her. "No, it's okay. You don't have to come up. I'll go by myself," she started but he brushed aside all her exclamations and walked her to her room. Once there, he waited till she had her door open, and was inside before giving her a small kiss on her cheek, then smiling and walking away. Arielle was dazed with the kiss because she wasn't expecting it. She clutched the door and watched his back walking away from her. Slowly closing the door, she went to get ready for sleep, thinking about him; and that night, dreaming about him. The next day was as perfect as it could have been. The trail he took her on was everything he promised, and much more. Arielle was totally in love with the place by the time she reached a rocky summit, where they could see the whole of the hill-station lying in neat tiers below them. This final view was too much, and she just stood there, feasting her eyes over the offering for a few minutes, neither of them speaking a word. Zodiac Girls Ch. 04 Aries the Ram: The Cardinal Fire sign, ruled by Mars. The furious birth of life in the rawness of spring. Courage and Initiative. The Triangle set on its base, symbolizing the gathering of the inchoate powers of consciousness and the emergence of Ego just as the two-dimensional triangle is born from one-dimensional lines. The blind desire of the newborn. The Archangel is Tzaphkiel, of the Order of Thrones. His sacred Sigil is drawn on the wooden floor, a huge shape enclosing Jayne, the set for the shoot, the consecrated lamps, and even the day bed which has been pulled out from the wall. It was a big job to draw that weird, twisted circle on the floor and get it right, and it took me almost all morning, crawling around with red chalk and measuring string. But now everything is enclosed in that sacred space and we're ready to begin. Jayne is standing in the lights wearing a black tiara of wrought iron on her head, an iron amulet on an iron chain around her neck. She is swathed in a seamless gown of crimson silk: well, it's really more of a poncho than a gown, but it is seamless, made from one long piece of crimson crepe, tied around her waist with a black cord to show the flare of her hips and drawing the fabric tight against the bountiful mounds of her breasts. She wears black stockings and black gloves that reach to her shoulders. Her hair is a tumble of brassy red: beautiful, insolent hair. Her lips are painted the reddest, glossiest scarlet I could find. Her birthday is right; even her numerology is right. She should be Aries personified, but she isn't. That's what drew me to her. Instead of commanding the space she stands in with regal authority, she's giggling and covering her mouth to stifle a self-conscious laugh. "Where do you want me to hold these things?" she asks me, a sword in one hand, a crystal globe in the other. I can tell she feels silly, which is an odd thing for a model to feel. You think she'd be used to weird clothes and props by now. "Hold the sword pointing down, at your feet, but hold the globe up, like you're offering it to us," I say. "You're the spirit of Aries, the Ram, and you're commanding us to kneel at your feet. When I tell you, lift the sword up; hold it high, like a lightening rod. That's how the spirit of Aries comes into your body, see, through the sword." She giggles again. She still thinks this is just another photo-shoot, another modeling job, and for her, I suppose it is. After all, she's getting paid by the hour and making out like a bandit. I had to run out to Victoria's Secret for another half dozen pair of black stockings when the first pair ran when she put them on, and while I was gone she just sat around with Johnny drinking Perrier and watching Jerry Springer, getting paid all the while. And she wasn't cheap. It bothers me because I don't have a client set up for these photos. I'm doing this on a lark, and the photos aren't really the point. I've tried to tell her that, but she just doesn't seem to hear me. To her it's just another job: what I tell her to do, she does.. I step behind the camera and look at her through the viewfinder. I have to admit she looks great. She's worth the money, just the sight of her. All legs and tits and those slightly surly lips beneath her wild mane of hair. If only she could act more like her sign. "Pull the neck down a little, Jayne. I want a little more cleavage." She's got her hands full so she puts the crystal ball against her neck and tries to hold it in place with her chin, but before she can tug the neckline down it slips out and she just manages to catch it before it hits the floor. She drops the sword and it falls with a clang. "Johnny?" I call. "Johnny, can you get your ass in here and maybe help out?" "Oh what is it now?" my assistant says, coming in from the kitchen in the back of the studio and wiping his hands on his apron. He's been making his blue-corn salsa for our break and hates being disturbed when he's cooking. "I can only do ten things at once." "Just take a midol or something and calm down," I say. "I need you to help me over here." "Fine, fine. The hell with the salsa then!" He looks at Jayne who's reaching for the fallen sword. "Don't move, Jayney," he says. "You chip a nail and Johnny kill." "I need some more cleavage," I say, "Just tug her neckline down a little." "You'll see that tacky black bra then," he says, handing her the sword. Then to her, "I don't know why you don't just take it off, Jayney. Your boobs are plenty perky without. If they were any higher you wouldn't even see your face." Jayne laughs and shakes her shoulders at him like a belly dancer, making her tits shake. "You're sweet, Johnny. But Rob's the boss." Johnny tsk-tsks. He sucks his fingers clean of lime juice and then tugs Jayne's neckline down a little and prissily pats it into place. "Deep breath," he tells her, then he puts his hands inside her neckline and pushes her boobs together as if he's fluffing a pillow. They both break into giggles, and Johnny finishes adjusting the robe, straightening the shoulders. He looks back at me. "How's that, boss?" The twin hillocks of Jayne's gorgeous tits are pressed together as if they're ready to spill over the top of her bra. I figure we have about an inch of leeway before we start seeing nipple. "That's good." I say. "Great. Now give her some more sweat. Tits only." Johnny holds a magazine over Jayne's face to protect her makeup while he sprays water on her cleavage with a mister until they have just the right amount of shine. I snap on the red filter and have a look. Perfect. She looks like she's shining with perspiration. "The look, Jayne." I say, "Give me the look now." She lowers her face slightly and looks at me through her long lashes, her lips parted, almost dripping with desire. Her eyes are intense, supernaturally green but look bottomless through the filter. She looks hot and sultry, almost dangerous. Just perfect. But before I can get off a shot she suddenly loses it and bursts into nervous laughter. The goddess of desire turns back into a giggly twenty-eight year old. Honestly, I've dealt with models getting the giggles before, but she seems to be really having trouble getting into this shoot. "Wait, wait," she says. "Give me a minute. I'll be okay. Just a minute. Johnny made me laugh." I'd been seriously reading about ceremonial magic and the occult for a few years, but it never occurred to me to try anything myself till just recently, because I never really understood it before. I mean, it's always interested me. I'm a sucker for anything occult or mystical, but it just always seemed like a bunch of hocus pocus before, a lot of dungeons and dragons stuff: colorful and interesting, but basically make-believe. But it's just as they say, you can't expose yourself to these things without them starting to rub off on you, and in my case it began to rub off when I started reading about the Tarot and Qabbalah. Maybe it was the material or maybe it was me, but suddenly it started resonating. Suddenly the Tree of Life started to make a kind of deep kind of sense to me, as if hidden patterns in my life were emerging and trying to make themselves known. Random occurrences no longer seemed so random, coincidences started occurring that were more than coincidences, even the people I knew started sorting themselves out in to archetypal groups corresponding to the four Tarot suits. Events in my life arranged themselves into patterns centering on the ten Sephiroth of the Qabbalah, each a different Manifestation of occult power, Holy Emanations. As above, so below. For the past few months meaning was everywhere and I felt energies at work behind the scenes, as if they were trying to signal to me. The image I had was of supernatural forces trapped behind some membrane, trying to break through to me, trying to rip through a veil and make themselves known. The more significance I saw in things, the more I studied, and finally I realized that I had to act. I had to meet this thing halfway. If something was calling me, I had to pick up the phone. I had to open myself to the message; become receptive to the subtle signals they were sending me. I had to open the door and invite them in. I decided to try and invoke the spirit of Aries. There were several reasons I chose Aries. First of all, it was early April, the weather raw and turning, and I was aware of feelings abroad in the air, as if I could feel the whole creaking wheel of the universe moving overhead towards the coming spring. It was something I'd never felt before, like being propelled through time, and I was inspired. The second was that if I was going to invoke something, I didn't it to be anything dangerous. I didn't want to start fooling around with grimoires and invoking demons. I wasn;t really sure whether I believed in this stuff or not, but even so, why take a chance? The third thing was Jayne M. From the time I met her she struck me as a perfect vessel for some kind of occult work. She was an Aries, born in the first decade of the sign, and with her piercing green eyes and that striking hair she could have been the Ram's own daughter. And yet she didn't have the Aries character, not at all. When she wasn't posing she was a kind of vague and mild creature, great to work with, but a little bit not all there, a little abstracted. She was one of those rare photo models who came to the business late, so she didn't have time to develop that prima Donna complex that plagues so many of them. She was still amazed that she could make so much money by doing so little. Also, she seemed to have no life outside of the studio. There was never anyone waiting for her after a shoot, she had no other interests I could tell, and she was always available. She was like a vessel waiting to be filled. She was perfect. I won't go into the details of the ritual and the preparations I went through. This isn't a how-to story. The books and the information are available. Look on the web. Look at Crowley, look at the Book of Abra-Mellin the Mage, the Greater and Lesser Keys of Solomon, The Book of Thoth, 666. The principles are always the same, the correspondences are there, linking the Tarot of the Egyptians to the Tree of Life, webs of meaning and intent reaching down from the heavens to the earth below: the Emanations of the Godhead Manifested in the material world. The Aries energy has certain symbols and correspondences that have to be collected and assembled in the right space at the right time. It's all a matter of concentrating enough energy in one place. I didn't lie to Jayne about what I was doing, but, as I said, she just wasn't very interested in my motives. To her, it was just another shoot, this time with an astrological theme. Fine. I left it at that. She composes herself now, biting back her laughter. "It's the water," she says, tugging at the gown. "It's running down between my boobs and it tickles." I sigh. "You want a towel?" "No, no," she says. "It's okay. It stopped. Okay. Here we go now. Ready. Ahem." She clears her throat to show me she's ready to be serious now, and takes up the position, sword pointing down at her feet, crystal orb at shoulder level. She lowers her face and looks at the camera. "That's beautiful," I say. "Lights, Johnny," and he hits the mains so Jayne is standing in the spots. Once she composes herself, she looks hot: extremely sexy. "Okay, Johnny, light the braziers." Johnny gets the striker. There are three broad, shallow iron bowls on tripods at shoulder height. I got them from a theater friend and filled with sand and piped them to a propane source, and when Johnny lights them flames leap up dramatically from the bowls. "Mother Superior, that's hot!" he whines, and I can feel the heat from the flames even from where I stand. I look at Jayne through the camera while Johnny comes up behind me. "She looks great, boss," he says softly, looking over my shoulder. He can be serious when he wants to be, and he's a great set-up man. She does look terrific. Standing there with one long, black clad leg reaching out from beneath her gown and her breasts spilling out over the top of the push-up bra like two grapefruits, she looks good enough to taste. She's cocked her hips slightly, and she appears to be pointing to the ground at her feet, inviting us to grovel. I'd be willing. "Okay, Johnny, I think we're all set." I say, trying to sound casual. "Why don't you pack it in for the day? Just hit the stereo on the way out. There's a tape already in it." "Okay, boss." he says. "Call me if you need me." He lives just down the block, and he knows that once I get things set up I like to work the camera alone. I don't like anyone looking over my shoulder. He grabs his coat and I hear the pop and hiss of the tape leader through the big Bose speakers behind me. The door closes behind him just as the opening bars of "Mars" from Holst's "Planets" start to play. I shoot off one roll, and then I give her a few more poses and we start to really work. There's a subtle dance you get into with a pro like Jayne: I move, she moves. I change angles, she changes poses. I shoot off four rolls without even thinking about what I;m going to do. By this time she's starting to get into it and I decide to turn her loose. "Just sway," I tell her. "You're Aries, the first sign of the zodiac, the cardinal fire sign. You're all desire and command, and what you want, you take. Hot and sexy. You burn like fire, eating everything up." The Holst piece ends while I'm still shooting. There's a pause, and then a Haitian drum piece comes on, an invocation of Ogou Ferraille, the voodoo god of war and iron. I'd put the tape together earlier, and as the drums come up and we start to feel it, Jayne is captivated by the polyrhythms, the thick layers of half a dozen interweaving drums and triangles. She straightens her back, and suddenly stretches, letting the music wash over her. I have to tell her again. I can't let this go on in good conscience without making sure she knows. "Uh, Jayne," I say, raising my voice to be heard over the tape, "Jayne, I'm going to invoke the spirit of Aires now, darling. I'm going to invite him to come down and possess you. Is that okay? Do you have a problem with that?" "Fine with me," she says smiling, still swaying to the beat. "The more the merrier." I guess that's an acceptable answer, so I leave the camera and go and light the dragon's blood incense in the big iron burners. Thick clouds of acrid smoke billow up, more than I'd counted on, and I step back, wiping my hands on my jeans. I'm suddenly nervous. The music is impassioned and sinister. It's raw and hypnotic and it's tapping into something deep down inside of me, and as I pick up the piece of vellum on which the invocation is written, there's a funny feeling in the air that comes from more than the great clouds of incense that are billowing up into the lights. There's something like static electricity in the air, a feeling of something starting to congeal. I start to read from the piece of parchment, almost shouting over the drums: "In the names of the Stars in their Courses and by the workings of the Great Wheel and the Lesser Wheels within, Wheels within Wheels; in the name of the Father and Creator and in the name of His Son. With the power of the Ineffable Name and in the names of the mighty Archangels Tzaphkiel, Samuel, Mahichael, and Uriel; their Thrones and Dominions; in the name of Mars, Ares, Tyr, and Ogun, I summon you down the Spirit of Aries the Ram, first House of the Zodiac. I summon your spirit and Intelligence, your nature and your character..." Jayne is on automatic now, working it as I've seen her do on other shoots, playing to the camera even though I'm no longer taking pictures. Her model's training takes over, and she's not quite dancing, but rhythmically shifting from pose to pose, experimenting, letting herself go. She instinctively knows how to move, how to use her body and her face and the clothes she wears to play the part of the temptress and as I'm watching her, her movements and her postures get more and more revealing and lewd: more sexually aggressive. She is getting into it. Way into it. I'm standing near the camera reading my incantation over the throbbing of the voodoo drums, keeping one nervous eye on her and one on the parchment in my hand, when suddenly she turns her back to me, her shoulders swaying, hips rocking. "Aries, into this woman come! I command you now to this vessel, come!" I'm shouting now. I don't know why. "Jayne, raise the sword! Raise the sword above your head, Jayne!" She lifts her arms, the globe in one hand, the sword, gleaming in the fire light, in the other. The music throbs, reaches a sudden crescendo, a cacophony of drums, triangles, and unearthly wailing. And then suddenly silence. The tape's over. I see Jayne shudder, but it's not a regular shudder. It's a movement I've never seen a human being make before. I've seen horses twitch their skin like that when flies were bothering them: it's as if all her muscles suddenly flexed so hard her skin trembles all over, and then in the sudden terrible silence of the empty tape hissing through the machine the sword clatters from her hand. The crystal ball falls with a dull thud and rolls lazily across the floor. "Jayne?" No response. She turns, but it's not Jayne who looks at me. Her face is composed, regal, almost disdainful. She looks around her, moving her whole head instead of her eyes. She moves as though someone else was inside her body, moving her head for her, pulling strings and moving levers. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. She looks down at herself, at her body. Her hands come up slowly to her face, and then down, and she cups her breasts, then squeezes, hard, as if she doesn't even know what they are or how they got there. Her mouth widens into a smile of pleasure, though her eyes are still bright and proud, as if she's suddenly aware of some private joke. She puts her hands to the neck of the gown and pulls, ripping it deliberately down to her waist, exposing the push-up bra, her sculpted belly. She takes hold of the bra, and pulls it down, turning it inside out so that her full, heavy breasts spill out. She looks up at me "Who are you?" she asks. I hadn't thought things out this far. I really hadn't expected it to work. "It's me, Jayne. Robby," I say. "Are you okay? Listen, maybe we went a bit overboard..." "What do you have for me?" she demands. "Have for you?" She takes a step. Her long leg encased in its black nylon stocking emerges from beneath the torn gown. A very shapely leg: long and curvy, sculpted with lean muscle. "Have for me," she repeats. "You summoned me because you have something for me. I want it. I want it now." I realize then that I'm standing inside the chalk circle, but it's all so absurd that I don't even think to move as Jayne crosses the few yards between us and grabs me by the belt, her hands going inside my pants. "Your body," she says. "That's why you called me, isn't it? Your body wants my body. You want to fuck me,"—she emphasizes the word, putting her ripe lip into it on the 'f'. "Well I want you to fuck me too. I want you to fuck me hard and deep, and make me feel it." "Jayney..." But she's already tearing at my pants. Her eyes are blazing with a kind of calm fury, her pupils dilated, and her nostrils are quivering with excitement. Before I can do anything she has my pants open and my shorts down. She takes my prick in her hand and squeezes deliciously. She's sweating, perspiring freely, but her hand is wonderfully cool in the long, silk glove. I hadn't thought this far ahead. I had no idea what I was going to do with her now, with this spirit of Aries upon her, but she was right: this is what I'd wanted all along, what I'd been hoping for. I wanted to fuck her. I'd wanted to fuck her all along. I wanted to break through her perfect beauty to find some fire within, some sort of desire. I hadn't known how much I wanted her before, but it was obvious to me now. That's why I'd made the chalk circle so big, big enough to contain Jayne and the set and the daybed as well. I'd known it and I hadn't known it. I hadn't thought it would work. Zodiac Girls Ch. 04 Well, I had her now, in spades. She was holding my cock and slowly beating me off with one hand, while with the other she reached up and slid her fingers into my hair. She pulled my head down to her breast. "This is what you want, isn't it?" she whispered. "Suck my tits. Suck my nipples. Bite them. Give me what I want." The feel of the firm softness of her breast and the turgid nipple against my lips made me suddenly weak with desire. She was very well-endowed for a model, the bottoms of her breasts almost perfectly hemispherical, the nipples high and pointing boldly into the air. But as hot as I suddenly was, Jayne was way ahead of me. She was already panting with heat, and as I sucked her tit and rubbed my lips against her nipple she raised a leg and wrapped it around me, pulling me to her. She took my hard cock and rubbed it impatiently between her legs. I could feel the silky smoothness of her panties against the head of my prick, and I could feel the softness and humid heat of her flesh beneath them too. Jayne groaned, a kind of feral snarl and raised her thigh higher. I realized that she meant to get me inside her just like that, standing there. Her panties were in the way but she didn't let that stop her. She just used the head of my hardening prick to push the crotch band to the side and I suddenly felt the head of my cock enveloped in her soft wet heat as she worked me along her sodden flesh. "Oh God!" I moaned. Jayne threw her head back. "Oh yes! Fuck me now. Just like this!" She started to move against me, grinding her hips against my cock somehow, standing there on one leg, and that in a four-inch heel. She got the nead inside and gripped me with muscles I'd never felt before, actually pinched the head of my cock and laughed at her triumph as I shuddered in pleasure. But it was obvious that I couldn't manage full penetration like this, not standing up, and once she realized that she let go of me and changed her tactics. She slid down my body and got on her knees in front of me, yanked my pants and shorts down my thighs and took me in her mouth. If she were really possessed by the spirit of Aries, it must be kind of degrading for her to be on her knees before me like that, but it was also terribly exciting. She didn't just mouth me: she sucked on me. She went at it with a hunger, a desperation I had never felt from a woman before. I tangled my hands in her long red hair and tried to guide her, tried to slow her down, but she was having none of it. She was sucking me for the pleasure of feeling my tool rubbing against her lips and hardening inside the warmth of her mouth, and no matter how hard I gripped her she continued to bob and suckle at my cock, setting her own pace, her long manicured nails, teasing my balls, reaching around underneath them, massaging my perineum, then sliding back, to my anus, my rectum... "Oh God!" I cried. She pushed at my asshole with her fingers and I closed my eyes, ready to feel the first orgasmic spasms, but she seemed to sense that and suddenly stopped. She removed her mouth and looked up at me and showed me a self-satisfied smile. "No," she said, "I think not. Not just yet. Come with me." She stood up, took my cock in her gloved hand and led me over to the day bed like a puppy on a leash, and as I stood there still unsure of what to do she ripped her gown in two: just shredded it down to her waist. She untied the sash and dropped it, then let what was left of the crimson gown fall to her feet and stepped out of it. She reached behind her and quickly unhooked the useless bra, then peeled down her panties and stood there in nothing but her shoes, stockings and gloves with the Aries amulet still around her neck. She reached up and pulled my head down to hers for a kiss, and her lips were soft and warm but demanding, her breath burning hot in my mouth as she kissed me and licked the inside of my cheeks. I stood there stunned as she sank back onto the day bed and spread her legs wide, one hand going to her pussy and rubbing it invitingly. "Come on," she said, "Fuck me. If that's what you want. Or even if it isn't, I want you to fuck me." She had a beautiful pussy, the outer lips plump and chubby like a little girl's, the inside coral and glistening wet against the black gloves, with a little shaved puff of pubic hair above it. But it wasn't her pussy so much as the way she used it, the way she offered it to me, playing with herself to keep her motor idling, her hips lifting to her own shameless and salacious touch. I sank to my knees on the floor in front of her. The smoke still rose from the brazier in a solid column and the room was thick with red clouds of incense. It was intoxicating and wild, but not as intoxicating as the smell of her own animal musk that rose to meet me as my mouth was drawn to her wet cleft. I wasn't subtle: I didn't tease or try anything fancy. I was overcome with the need to feel her in my mouth, the core of this gorgeous creature, this perfect, sexually overcharged woman. She cried out when I kissed her pussy and shoved it brutally up onto my face. One long, stocking-clad leg came up over my back and pulled me close, and her hands tangled in my hair as her ass lifted off the bed, hungry for my mouth. I could just see her face over the round globes of her tits, her lust-swollen lips twisted into a snarl almost of contempt as I pushed my tongue into her, seeking the center of her heat. She began to fuck my face hard, with no apology, using me, already eager to come. She smeared her wetness all over my face and her juice poured into my mouth like water from a sponge but she showed no sign of shame or awareness of anything but the pleasure of my tongue working inside her. I'd never been with a woman so eager to use me for her own selfish pleasure, and it drove me wild. No shame, no compunction; no worries about what I might think of her in the morning. It was all right there, right now. When my tongue strayed to her asshole she didn't pull away, didn't tell me no. She growled and grabbed onto her own leg to pull herself double while with her other hand she pulled her buttocks apart to give me access. I shoved my nose into her sopping cunt and tried to drive my tongue inside her ass while she tangled her hand in my hair and pulled me harder against her. "Eat my ass!" she screamed, tugging on my hair, "Eat my asshole and shove your tongue in me! Do it!" I was drowning in her sweet secretions, blubbering for breath but never stopping. Her own lust inflamed me, made me an animal myself, and I only stopped when I could no longer draw breath. I had to get up and finish taking my clothes off, tearing them off and throwing them aside, then I fell on top of her. Immediately her mouth and hands were all over me, biting and scratching, her legs scissoring as she hunted for my cock with her pussy. I felt the slick nylon of her stocking slide up my flanks as she searched for me with her hungry cunt. I found her almost by accident, or rather, she found me, for all of a sudden I was sinking into her, surrounded by her hot, tight flesh, buried in her to the hilt, her juices welling out of her and soaking my balls. With a snarl she rolled us over and got on top of me, never letting my cock slip from her tight sheath. She put her hands on my chest and looked down at me through the shadows of her tumbled mane with eyes that were incandescent with lust. Her big tits heaved on her chest as she drew breath, and she was so tight I could feel her heart beating in the way her cunt pulsed against my prick. "Oh Christ!" I moaned as she began to move. Her legs were spread wide and she rested on her knees, and as she ground her hips around on my cock the tendons in her thighs stood out. She had amazing control of her body and she gripped me and milked me in ways that made me gasp and groan, while she just laughed, a ragged, unsteady laugh that faded into her own groans of shuddering pleasure. She brought me twice to the very edge, deliberately working on me, showing me how good she was, and twice she backed off, not letting me come. Lying on my back with her doing all the work, I was at her mercy, and she gave me a lesson in lust and female sexual control. Whenever she knew I was close, she stopped moving and rested with her hands against my chest, panting for breath while I stayed perfectly still, fighting the urge to pump up into her and finish. I knew that if I so much as moved I would erupt inside her. Once she had caught her breath she sat up again, tall and regal. She lifted herself off my cock, her eyes locked on mine. She planted one foot on the mattress, raised herself up and reached down to her pussy to smear some of her lubrication over her asshole. I watched fascinated, knowing what was coming but not believing it. I still didn't believe it when she took my prick in her hand and raised herself up, then began to fit the head of my cock against her greasy asshole. "Oh God!" she cried as she tried to impale herself on my prick. "Oh God yes!" She held my cock up as she worked her ass around, trying to get me in, and it was like I wasn't even there, like I was no more than a prick for her to use as she wished. I could only stare, mouth open as she managed to somehow relax herself enough so that the head of my cock wormed its way into the dry heat of her rectum. Her tits shook on her chest from her ragged breathing; she shuddered, groaned, gritted her teeth and shut her eyes, and then with a loud cry she sank slowly down onto my prick, taking me all the way up her tight ass. She looked down at me with a look of wild triumph on her face, and I think she was set to laugh at the look of astonishment on my face, but instead her face dissolved into a frown of rapturous surrender as my hardness touched all her nerve endings there and she shuddered with the lewd and overwhelming sensations. She sat on my loins with my prick up her ass, her legs spread wide so I could see the eager pink flesh of her empty pussy, and she began to masturbate, shamelessly, thinking of nothing but her own pleasure. Her glove-clad fingers worked in hard little circles against her clit, then she brought her other hand down and slid two fingers into herself, all the while rocking rhythmically back and forth on my prick and squeezing me with her anal muscles. I'd been with sexually aggressive women before, but never had I been with someone who was pure demand like this: who knew just what she wanted and was determined to take it. It was a wholly female type of aggression too: an urge to be taken and entered, to have me deep inside her, to control my coming and going. She had me in her ass, yes, but she was still controlling everything. She used her ass the way a man used his prick, fucking me fast, squeezing me, teasing me, and all the time the strain of maintaining that control showed on her face, alternating with looks of absolute bliss. She put her hands on my knees behind her, and leaned back, arching her back and thrusting her breasts out, then used her legs to lift herself up, then fall back down. The muscles in her thighs trembled and twitched and I knew she couldn't keep this up, and I needed to fuck her. I couldn't stay passive anymore, the urge to thrust into her was too strong, but it was too hard to move lying on my back like that. I needed to be on top. There was a brief period of struggle for dominance as I tried to roll us over, then I just lifted her off my cock with my hands. For all her strength and aggression she still weighed hardly anything, and she couldn't resist my strength as I pried her off my prick. But once she realized what I was doing, she quickly gave up fighting me and turned around and got on her knees, thrusting the perfect hemispheres of her ass into the air. She turned around and looked at me over her shoulder. "This is twice I've been on my knees to you," she said. "You'd better make it worth it." I got behind her and she laid her chest down on the bed, reached back and pulled her buttocks apart, and her asshole gaped like an open cave, already so stretched out that I could see the darkness inside. The sight of her all open and inviting like that filled me with animal lust, and I took my cock in my hand and speared into her with one brutal thrust. Jayne's head snapped up and she growled like a wild cat. Her long blood-red nails clawed at the covers of the day bed. Still she wouldn't stop. No sooner was I ensconced in her ass then she reached under herself and I felt her tugging and pulling at her pussy. I drove balls deep and just let the pleasure of having her wash through my body, throwing my head back as if I knelt under a shower of pure sexual bliss. I tired not to move, fighting for control. And just then the door opened and Johnny walked in. "Well Holy Shit!" he said, fanning the clouds of incense away from his face. "My boss, my best friend! How incredibly tacky!" Jayne turned towards him and I felt the muscles in her back flex as she raised her head. "Get over here!" she said. "I command you. Come to me!" "Oh sure," he said, "Like right away. Like I do women." He put his nose in the air and started towards the kitchen. "Don't let me bother you two. I just came back for my good paring knife." Too late I realized that Johnny was about to cross the chalk circle. I tried to warn him: "Johnny! No..." But it was too late. He took two steps and Jayne said again, "Come you now to me!" His usual look of supercilious disdain disappeared and he went blank. No, not quite blank, there was a look of mild astonishment on his face, as if he could see what he was doing but was powerless to stop. His face was blank but there was confusion and hysteria in his eyes as he stumbled over and started unbuckling his pants. "Johnny? What the fuck are you doing?" I cried. He moved like he was in the grip of some alien tractor beam that was pulling him towards us, his eyes wide with disbelief. By the time he came over and knelt on the day bed by Jayne's head, his trousers were down around his thighs. He pulled his cock through the fly of his shorts and I was shocked to see how big he was. He wasn't even hard yet, and still he was enormous: a regular salami. It figures, I thought. Johnny wanked himself a few times, staring down at his tool with disbelief, then held it up for Jayne's mouth. I caught sight of her quick smile before she opened her mouth and took him inside with a hungry, slurping sound. "Mother Fucking Superior!" Johnny groaned, his eyes snapping wide open. There was no doubt in my mind now that Jayne was truly possessed and that I'd created some sort of Sorcerer's Apprentice nightmare, and I had to wonder now just how much I was even in control of what was happening, for suddenly I had an overwhelming urge to fuck her hard while she was sucking Johnny's cock, an urge that seemed to come from the outside of me like it was someone else's idea. It was something I just had to do. It's not like I was fighting it. Jayne was so into it, so transported beyond the human by the erotic thrill of what she was doing that it was impossible not to catch her fever, her sheer animal joy in being fucked in the ass and mouth. She moaned, she growled, she writhed and twisted, the saliva dripped from her lips in long strings, and all the while her hand was vibrating against her pussy or dipping inside of herself and pumping with thick, viscous sounds I could hear above the steady slap of my loins against the moons of her ass and the gurgling sucking sounds of Johnny's prick in her mouth. I was so consumed that I actually got up on my feet and squatted behind her like some caveman, holding her lush hips and fucking her ass with the single-minded obsession of a dog with a bitch in heat. Johnny groaned; he wailed. His mouth fell open and his eyes rolled into his head and his body jerked convulsively. I knew he must be coming—there was no way anyone could resist Jayne, straight or gay--but the only way I could tell from Jayne was the loud, excited moan she emitted, an moan choked off with the sounds of thick swallowing. She let go of his cock and looked back at me with that evil smile and let me see the twin rivulets of semen hanging from her lips and chin. That was it for me. I grabbed her hair and pushed her head down against the bed, seized by the sudden urge to master her, to make her bow down before me as I came. It was something savage and primal, and she must have felt it too, for she suddenly went passive, giving in with an exited smile on her face, letting me have my way with her. I stood almost all the way up, lifting her knees from the bed and pulling her hips against me as I pushed deep into her ass and let myself go. She cried out in pleasure as big, boiling gouts of gism shot from my cock and into her ass as I exploded in wracking spasms of release. And as I came in her, my whole world went red: red and black, and behind my closed eyelids I saw the sigil of Aries, clear as day, written in flames upon a black background.   ~ ~ ~   "Oh Lord," Johnny moaned. "You won't tell anyone, Robby? I'll be ruined! What the hell just happened? What's got into that bitch?" Both of us were still lying on the rumpled and sweat-soaked day bed. I was barely able to move, and spasms of pleasure were still zinging up and down my legs and spine. But Jayne had taken only a moment to catch her breath, then had dragged herself off the bed and run into the bathroom, a move that had taken her across the borders of the chalk circle. I was waiting now, waiting for my breath to return, and waiting to see what would happen. Would she leave the spirit of Aries behind? She might still be possessed. I heaved myself off the bed and stood up cautiously, unsure whether my legs would still hold me. They did. "Jayne?" I called. "Jayney, are you okay?" The column of smoke had disappeared from the incense burner, but a thick pall still hovered just above the level of my head, visible in the bright spotlights. She called out something, but it was hard to hear her through the bathroom door. The vellum with the incantation of banishment was lying by the camera, where I'd dropped it. I turned off the tape player as I staggered past and leaned against the bathroom door. "What?" I yelled. "I can't hear you, Jayney. Are you okay?" It sounded like she was crying and I suddenly felt terrible. I'd had no idea that this was going to work, otherwise I really wouldn't have tried it with her. And then to have taken advantage of her like that. It was a terrible thing to do. "Jayne, Jayne, I'm so sorry," I said. "It was all my fault. I shouldn't have done it. I really didn't know it would work. Really, baby, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" The lock snapped open, and she cracked the door. I saw one mascara-streaked eye looking at me, and I was trying to explain, trying to apologize when my voice died in my throat. Jayne's eyes were opened wide in shock and she was staring past me, looking over my shoulder. I felt a chill run down my spine, because I suddenly realized that I hadn't banished the Spirit of Aries yet. In all the excitement of the orgy, I'd forgotten to release the energies and send them back. They still filled the consecrated circle, as thick as the billowing clouds of incense, and before I even turned around I already knew what I would see. Sure enough, Johnny was standing in the middle of the chalk circle, his head raised high and proud, the crystal orb in one hand, the sword in the other, pointing commandingly at his feet. His pants were still around his ankles and his big gay dick was standing straight up but he seemed not to notice. He seemed beyond noticing anything. "You two," he commanded, "I command you! Come you to me now!" Zodiac Girls Ch. 05 Headstrong Taurus Who smiles through life-except when crossed? Who knows, or thinks he knows, the most? Who loves good things: baked, boiled or roast? Oh, Taurus! Zodiac Girls: Taurus; Jenn It was nearing midnight when I spotted him. I was out at the best bar in town. Chey Chocolat. (at least if it's not the best show me a better one and I'll go there) I looked down to make sure everything was perfect. I was dressed in a light purple silk dress with black 6 inch stiletto heels. It showed off my slender body to maximum effect. My light blonde hair fell to my shoulder blades and was styled to the nines, so I wasn't to worried about that. But I still felt anticipation as his eyes searched the bar. I've been clubbing for about 3 months now looking for just the right guy. It's amazing what I'm willing to go through to find what I want. Only the best will do and it doesn't matter how long it takes me to get it. But when I find it I revel in it. And my stud looked like he'd be great to revel in. "Hey baby what's your sign?" I looked around and to my horror found this weasely little man addressing me. I must admit I was kind of stunned. This guy couldn't have been over five feet five inches tall and he was encased in a whole cow. Leather from head to foot. It didn't do much for his looks either. They matched his dark hair and swarthy complexion, but he looked just awful. "My sign is STOP!" I sniffed at him as I said this. That usually works with most guy's they get the hint and leave. I'd been beating idiots off my table all night. I began to wonder if he was alight in the head when he just didn't get it. "Not a problem baby I can stop right here." I still really wasn't paying attention to him but this brought me around. I thought I'd have to use my best line for this guy. So I held my hand up a few inches over his head. I'm five feet eight inches myself, "You need to be this tall to ride this ride." He looked up at the hand I held over his head and grimaced. His mouth started to open so I finished him off. "God loves you Harry have a great day." The guy finally took the hint and backed off. I went back to looking at my stud and realized to my horror that his eyes had passed over me while I was dealing with the jackal. He'd locked on to a redhead and was headed her way. Well sometimes it works that way. But that's ok I was patient I'd wait till Mr. Right came along. I motioned to the waiter and ordered some Belgian Truffles and another glass of Dom Perignon to go with them. After all my motto has always been it doesn't matter what I've got as long as it's the best. That has to be the best thing about a chocolate bar, Chocolate. As the night passed it became clear that nothing else worthwhile was coming through the door. So I started to get my things together when the waiter showed up at my table. He was carrying a single Champaign flute and a strawberry dipped in chocolate. He set them down in front of me and nodded to my right. "The sweater by the door madam." I turned and looked to see who my benefactor was. I was surprised to see my stud standing there with an amused look on his face. He was still gorgeous. A little over 6 feet and a nice chest. Long blonde hair flowed about his face and he had such a cute throat and a strong neck. I admit though, what he was wearing caught my interest the most. He had a cream colored cardigan sweater over a white silk shirt. Light brown pants and patent leather shoes completed the outfit. He was elegant. I leaned over and picked up the strawberry and turning back to him I began to tongue it ever so lightly, just barely tasting the chocolate. He was beginning to take a very keen interest in what I was doing. I narrowed my eyes and let the strawberry come to rest in the palm of my hand. Looking at him under my lashes I picked up the strawberry with my tongue and began to suck on it. I watched his eyes grow in fascination as I finished my snack. He began to walk over to me and I gave him one of my better smiles. "Good evening my lady, my name is Steve. May I sit down?" "Please be seated." I laughed. I've always thought the best pick up line in the world was hello. It was nice to see he thought the same. "So what brings you to my table?" He thought this over for a minute and then with a twinkle in his eye asked me if I wanted the truth or the lie. Now that kind of set me back. But I'd rather have the truth so that's what I asked for. "Very well, it is my intention to take you for a drive in my car end up at my apartment, entice you inside for a drink and make sensual love to you." Now that was quite a statement for a guy who didn't even know my name. "Really, and what makes you think I'll go for that?" Steve smiled "Because you've always wanted to drive a Beamer." I had to grin at that because it was true. We really got to talking things over and he was just amazing. We stayed at the bar for several more hours. As the bar closed they finally asked us to leave. As we headed out the door Steve handed me the key's and told me I should take a test drive. I wasn't really sure that he meant the car. Steve and I drove around for an hour or so before I asked for directions to his place. It turned out that lived in a very nice loft in the city. As we parked he leaned over and began to nibble at my neck. His tongue was very talented. We really began to get heated as he nuzzled me. I kept running my fingers through his hair. It was soft and baby fine. He'd moan every time my hands swept through it. Some how we made it out of the car and into the elevator. I loved the feel of that silk shirt on is body. He also surprised me by having lots of muscles. That sweater hid them well. As we swept off the elevator into his apartment he half carried me into the living room. I was very surprised to see no less than two dozen candle already burning in the darkness. I dearly love a man's neck and I really began to taste Steve's. Just the right amount of salt and some very nice vanilla bodywash. I felt him set me down on a couch and began to fumble at the straps on my dress. I helped him get those off and removed his shirt. He really did work out a lot. As I began to undo his belt my anticipation grew. I was surprised when he knelt in front of me and buried his face in my panties. His arms worked their way around me and I was really impressed by his hands. He began to knead my lower back and bottom. I let him finish undressing me and his tongue was everywhere. "Nice tattoo." He said. I grinned and he tongued my Little bull. I'm a Taurus and I have a little bull tattooed over my pussy. He helped me to the bed where he laid me down on my stomach and began to work my body with those magic hands. If you ask any ten people, you will find that all ten know how to inflict some kind of torture, but only two of those ten will know how to give a good backrub. He was definitely in the two. I began to fell more relaxed than I had in along time, as Steve kept running those magic hands over my body. As I lay there on my stomach I truly thought I'd never had a better massage. I rolled over and found that Steve still had his pants on. It was nice to find someone who was willing to devote the time to making me feel good before attending to himself. I reached out and loosened his belt. I saw something pass across his eye's but it was gone before I knew what it was. As his pants hit the floor I wasn't surprised that he was hard, I was surprised that he was four inches tops. He leaned down and planted his lips on my pussy. He began doing wonderful things to me and then began to run his tongue up my body. About the time his lips were teasing my breasts I felt his cock pushing between my legs. I opened my legs and began to gently squirm back and forth. The farther his lips moved up my body the farther he penetrated into me. Just as he finally buried his tongue in my mouth and his dick in my pussy he gave a convulsive shudder and fell on me. I couldn't believe he'd cum already. He smiled and went back to lapping at my pussy. It didn't take him that much longer to bring me to the edge. He leaned back to look at me and I grabbed his head and buried it in my pussy. His tongue shot out and encompassed me fully. Waves of pleasure washed over my body as his tongue worked me. I held him there for what seemed like forever. His talented tongue kept working me. I've always heard that if you don't have it between the hips you'd better have it between the lips. And he did. As I fell asleep in his arms I ran him through the checklist. He had looks, style, muscles, and lots of lovely possessions. He had fantastic hands and a great tongue, a four inch dick was fine with me but he just couldn't use it. So he wasn't the best. (Sigh) Well I'd keep looking. Zodiac Girls Ch. 06 I swear that if you look up Gemini in a book on horoscopes, you'll find a picture of my girlfriend Judy there. She is such a Gemini she even has a twin brother. They are so much alike it's two sides of the same coin, just one is a girl, and the other is a boy. Judy's figure could almost be called boy -like except for the large c-cup breasts sticking out from her chest. Her swimmer's body is long and lean, not soft like a girl but firm like a boy. Now don't misunderstand me, Judy is one sexy woman with a great body that she knows how to use to her advantage. Her Brother Jason's body is almost soft when compared with his sister; He's not what you could even call chubby but he's not hard muscle either. They both have curly brown hair of about the same length, and their suntan faces show off their bright blue eyes with a striking contrast. Judy called me her boyfriend but she let me know right from the start she would not be mine exclusively. She told me she could never be contented by any one man and if that were too much for me, she would understand. As for me, I hated it but it didn't take long to figure that even a little of Judy was so much more than none at all. It's not that she would flaunt her dalliances in front of me, it was just understood that if she found someone interesting she would have a fling with him or her. She always said, if she was too sexy for just one man, she surly was too sexy for just one gender and would freely sleep with man, woman, or both with gusto. Judy loved to dress sexy showing off her big tits with tight little tops with bared midriffs that barely covered the bottom of her breasts and miles of cleavage showing on the top. Most days would find her in short skirts that showed off her long legs and she enjoyed giving a peek up her skirt. God could that woman wear some small bathing suits. It's as if the thong was designed for her ass with her strong muscular cheeks sticking out and that little string buried between them. I know she thoroughly enjoy showing off her body with the hope of turning people on. The first time we had sex she told me that her and her brother did it all the time. She said they took each other's cherry at a young age and she said that Jason was her favorite sex partner. This seemed rather kinky to me but then Judy was a kinky girl. I remember one time we went to her parents cabin in the mountains with Jason and his girl friend Sharon. It didn't take long to find out that Sharon was the dominate one in their relationship. After dinner we sat around drinking wine and talking when Sharon said, "Come on Jase, it time for you to pleasure me." She just grabbed his crotch and pulled him into their bedroom. After awhile Judy took my hand and said, "Let's go watch." We walked in to find both naked and Sharon sitting on Jason's face with both hands in his hair holding his head while she rubbed his face into her snatch. Judy went over and began to make out with Sharon, next she got next to Jason's crotch and began to stroke his erection. She called me over and asked me to take off my clothes, as she wanted to stroke both Jason and me at the same time. I couldn't argue with getting a hand job so I complied. Sharon said she wanted to watch and went into a reverse cowgirl mode. Judy then got on her knees in front of her brother and began to suck him off. When she stopped, she leaned over and kissed me putting tongue deep into my mouth. "Can't you just taste him on my tongue?" I said no and I was just being honest. She held his cock up and beckoned me closer. I leaned in but resisted when she tried to put his cock in my mouth. Sharon was breathing hard and I could tell she was really getting in to this, "Come on John, just lick it once." Judy took the back of my neck and pulled me ever closer. She bounced his cock on my lips, teasing me then both she and Sharon kept telling me just to taste it. Finally, I stuck my tongue out and licked the underside of Jason, Judy said, "God that is so hot, here John kiss the tip." I did as she asked and as she pulled it away, a string of precum went from his dick to my lips and without thinking I stuck my tongue and licked it off his cock. By then there was no turning back and I swallowed him down to his pubes. Just like that, I now had my first taste of cock and it felt strangely erotic. I was actually looking forward to my first taste of another man's cum when Judy pulled her brother's cock from my mouth and put it hers. As I held his balls, stroking them I felt them tense and then I felt the cum surge from them to Judy's mouth. I felt disappointed and it must have showed in my face because Judy bent over and put her mouth to mine, and when I opened up, she passed me a snowball of Jason's sperm. That was how we spent our weekend, in a tangled mass of bodies, man, and man, girl, and girl and many combinations of the two. As with most Gemini Judy soon tired of me and we have long since separated. The last time I bumped into her she told me that Jason and Sharon got married and Sharon is now expecting. Judy said it was extra sexy to make love with a pregnant woman and was spending most weekends at their house. Before you ask I'll tell you that Jason was the first and last cock that I sucked, and although I enjoyed the variety of it I just preferred pussy to cock. I'll always miss Judy as I continue my search for another real Gemini. Zodiac Girls Ch. 07 Chapter 7: Cancer, Jace Pure, thank you for the edit. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Hard-shelled sympathetic Cancer Who changes like a changeful season? Holds fast then lets go without a reason? Who is there to give adhesion? To Cancer? ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Jace relaxed, her shoulders on the soft pillow so that her head was raised a bit over her supine body. Glancing down at her naked form, she decided that she was all right. The stomach was suitably flat and her breasts were not sagging much, even when she was lying on her back. That was good. She closed her eyes and moved her hands over her stomach, placing the palms on either side of her navel, fingers pointing downward. A thumb dipped inside, probing gently as her body quivered gently. One finger rimmed her bellybutton as the other hand moved down, over the rise and below. Feeling for the soft lips, driving a finger between them, Jace felt the wetness start to spread out. It was the end of a long day, and she wanted this, needed it. And Craig was not back yet. Her eyes closed, and her breathing was affected. Jace shifted on the bed, settling into a more comfortable position, bending her left leg at the knee, spreading her thighs. As the muscles relaxed, her senses became attuned to her fingers hovering down there. Each touch, each sensation became amplified. Her fingers started to move in a rhythm as her brain played erotic scenarios. Each time she imagined a different scene. This time it was Craig, rough. The scene assaulted her senses. Bending over me, his knees are placed on either side of my hips. The mattress dips under his weight. Staring into my eyes and playing with my nipples. Gently at first, then slowly pinching them. The nipples growing hard as he gets rougher with them. Her hands moved to her nipples and started pinching them, squeezing her breasts, pressing them, until the dull pain registered in her brain, giving an edge to the pleasure. His hard cock presses into me, just above my pussy lips, pushing into me as he moves back and forth. His face, a stoic mask, the eyes; boring into mine. "You like that," he whispers; curt. I moan, feel his cock against me. Her fingers pressed against herself, flattened against her pubes. The hips moved to meet them; she shifted so that she could feel the pressure against her clit, just the right place. She moaned. Craig moves forward, his dark brown hair falling onto his forehead; bends down and takes an erect nipple between his lips, first flicking his tongue across the hardened nub, then biting it; a short cry escapes from between my clenched teeth. Jace wet her fingers with her saliva and spread it onto her nipple. The slick wetness seemed scandalously gratifying. She moved her nipple between her fingertips, pinching; and then held it between her long nails and pulled it out, away from her body. His tongue sweeping across the tiny ridges around the nipple. Moving back and forth, the surface delicately rough. Jace opened her hand and moved it across her breasts, the smoothly coarse skin of her palm slightly abrasive against her sensitive buds. Craig's hand moving down to my pussy; searching, feeling, brushing, pressing, entering, marauding. The movement of the fingers is quick, sure, hard. Firm, steady progress, harsh and coarse movements. Fingers flew against her cunt, compulsively pressing against her softness; the touch, hard and tense. Forceful strokes up and down, finding the entrance, plunging inside and out again. Two fingers, now three moving inside me, thrusting in and out, tight against the walls. Frenzied, wild movements, almost hurting, bordering between pain and pleasure. Jace's fingers drove in and out, three fingers moving hard. She clenched the walls around them, making herself as tight as possible. Diving inside her, fingers forcefully propelled; her brow furrowed and the veins in her neck standing out as she clenched her teeth, concentrating on the feelings exploding down there. The tempo increased, built to an uncontrollable urge, rose up to almost intolerable limits... and then spilled out from Jace. Her body shuddered, out of control; the muscles went limp. Her fingers, still inside her, were covered in slick goo which oozed out as she withdrew them slowly. She brought them to her lips and sucked off her salty taste. The eyes were closed, as her mind drifted to various things, coming back to centre on one thought. It was 5th, her birthday, and she was lying here fucking herself. Alone. A tear escaped her wet lashes and made a track towards her ear, resting for a moment on her lobe before falling down onto the pillow. Jace didn't want to cry. She had done it a lot for the past few days and was tired of it. The tears though, didn't seem to stop. Her life had been going downhill for the past few months; since she had taken that new job, she thought. She hadn't wanted to, but Craig had made her do it. He had said it would be good for her career; though he had not forced her into it, Jace had joined the company to please him. She went along with what he said most of the time. He was the strong one in their relationship, and Jace liked it that way. She needed someone to take care of her, guide her and support her. And Craig had done that for the past five years. Except for the last few months. He seemed like a different person, caring and loving one moment, totally aloof the next. He had changed so much that now Jace wondered if she even knew him. It wasn't that he was rude or bad towards her, but he was indifferent; it was hard to handle. Jace wondered if he was getting bored with her. She shrugged. He might be; it had been five years, four since they got married. Perhaps what they needed was something new in their relationship. As she lay there, Jace thought about what to do. Maybe she should spend more time with him, make him feel special, get something into their relationship – something romantic and loving. Yes, that's definitely what she would do. ----- That night Craig came home to a spotlessly clean living room, cut flowers in the crystal vase, a mouth-watering aroma drifting out of the kitchen, and when he wandered in there, he saw Jace in a new dress; short, barely covering her thighs. He stood in the doorway leaning against the frame, and looked at her. She was chopping the salad greens into a bowl while keeping an eye on something simmering in a pan. As he watched, she bent and stirred it. The dress hiked up, exposing her creamy thighs. He took a deep breath. Jace turned and saw him standing there. His eyes moved up from where he had been staring, as she turned. She smiled. He gave a rueful smile in return. Moving over to him, she put her arms around his neck and gave him a light kiss. "How was the day?" He shrugged. "It was okay." "You're a little late." She tried too hard to keep out the accusing tone from her voice. As a result, it came out a little artificial. He avoided her eyes. "Yes, had to work late to finish a presentation for tomorrow morning. It's not done yet..." he trailed off. Jace pressed her lips together and fought the feeling of disappointment. "You brought it home?" "Yes. Had to." "Today?" Jace didn't mean to, but it burst out. Craig looked at her. He was frowning. "What's wrong with today?" Jace stared at him. What could she say? He had forgotten her birthday. For the first time in five years, he had not remembered and showered her with gifts first thing in the morning. She thought he would make it a special evening, but he had obviously forgotten. "Nah, nothing," she mumbled and turned away, getting busy with the rest of the greens. She heard a slap and when she turned, Craig was standing with his palm against his forehead. He had apparently smacked himself hard. The expression on his face was one of genuine contrition as he came towards her. "Jace, sweetie, I'm so terribly sorry," he started. "I didn't mean to... I don't know how I could have forgotten. It must have been the work. I've been too busy. But still, nothing can excuse...." He stopped in front of Jace, and after a moment, put his arms around her and hugged her. It was so comfortable and relaxing. She had missed this. Jace didn't really mind that he had forgotten her birthday. It was not that special a day, but she missed the affection he used to lavish on her. The problem wasn't just the birthday, it was all these days when he seemed to forget that she was there and needed him. They broke apart after a moment, and Jace saw the most remorseful expression on his face. "It's okay Craig. Not the end of the world. It's just a birthday, nothing special," she hastened to reassure him. She didn't want him to feel too bad. His look seemed to say that he knew it mattered to her. "I'm really sorry." "It's okay now," she said. "We'll just have a cosy dinner and spend the night together, cuddling up, and you can make it up to me." She smiled up at him, but her smile faltered at the expression in his eyes. She knew what was coming before the words were out of his mouth. "Jace, I can't. I have this important presentation tomorrow, and I need to prepare. I thought that I'd work all night into the early morning today, but now..." he shrugged helplessly, "I'm sorry." He sighed and moved his hand up to his temple, massaging his forehead. "We'll have a nice dinner, and I promise we'll celebrate sometime next week. Okay?" Jace stood with her eyes on the second button of his shirt. She noticed that he was holding his breath for her answer. It was that important to him. She pushed down the feelings of hurt and disappointment. She didn't want to dissolve into a weeping, needing person right then, in front of him. Finally nodding her head in a yes, she went to resume her activities. "Go and freshen up, dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes." She heard him move, and then his arms encircled her from behind, coming to rest just under her breasts. A light squeeze and a small kiss on the side of her neck and he was gone. Jace struggled with her tears. She was feeling really sorry for herself. She deserved a bit of pampering at least one day in a year, and here she was, masturbating alone, cleaning the place and cooking an elaborate dinner just to please her husband. And he'd not only forgot her special day but came home with work scheduled for the night and didn't even change his plans when he remembered. Well. She couldn't do anything about it, so she might as well accept it and make the most of the dinner they were going to have together. With that thought in mind, she spent the next twenty minutes concentrating on making the food as perfect as possible. As she emerged into the living room, the first thing she saw was the crystal vase of the red blooms, down on the floor. Craig was leaning over the table which was covered with papers. His attention on the work was so complete that he didn't look up when she approached him and stood beside the table, looking down at the back of his head. "Craig?" "Hmmm?" he muttered, obviously too engrossed. "Dinner's ready." There was no response. After a moment of standing there motionless, she succeeded in getting him to look up at her. She stood silently. "Did you say something?" he asked. "Yes. I said dinner's ready." "Oh, okay. Just give me ten minutes. I'll finish this part and then take a break. I'm in the middle of something right now, sweetie." He immediately turned back to his work. Fiery anger shot through Jace. She curled her fingers slowly into her palms, the nails digging painfully into the soft flesh as her fist tightened. Closing her eyes tightly, she clenched her jaw, took a deep, steadying breath and forced herself to relax. She wondered why he had started working. Would a delay of twenty minutes in his precious work matter? Couldn't he at least have laid the table while she was doing everything else in there? And he was asking for a further ten minutes. She swallowed, trying to eat up the fury simmering within her. "I'm laying the table, Craig. Come on when you're done." There was a subdued "Uh-huh." She wondered if he had heard. Half an hour later, Jace sat at the table laden with all the dishes, her meal finished, sipping on a glass of water. Craig's place was as she had set it. Silver and the good crystal, plate and the napkin covering it as it had been when she started eating. Craig had not come. Eventually, she tidied up the table, carried the leftover food into the kitchen and covered it up for Craig to have later. She peeked into the door of the living room and saw him as she had left him, poring over his papers and muttering something she couldn't make out. Standing there for a little while, she felt an overwhelming sadness wash over her. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes, but she willed herself not to cry. The anger helped. After some time, she walked into their bedroom and fell onto the bed, face down. She heard the clock in the room outside chime three times before she finally fell asleep. ----- The next morning she was up and away before Craig woke up. She was too upset to face him. By evening, she would be able to mask her disappointment and regret completely. He called as she was in the elevator on the way to her office. She said that she was busy and would talk later. He launched into an explanation, but she cut him short and said she would talk to him in the evening. It wasn't pleasant being bitchy, but she felt raw and unloved. Just some time, she told herself. That's all I need and I'll be okay. In the afternoon, Craig called again. A minute into the conversation, Jace felt that something was coming. Sure enough, after apologising profusely for the night before, Craig hesitantly told her that the presentation had gone fabulously, and he had been picked to go out of town for some work related to it. He had to go this evening and would be back in two weeks. He even asked her if that would be okay. A dry smile settled on her face, Jace wondered what would happen if she told him 'no.' But she couldn't. She murmured something; and after they ended the conversation, she disappeared into the ladies' room for a good cry. She lectured herself about how she was trying to be supportive and that this was just a phase which was going to pass soon, and Craig would be back to the loving and caring guy he was before. Composing herself as much as possible, she went back to her workplace. She resolved to forget everything and concentrate on work. As soon as she entered her cubicle, her friend Sheila popped her head over from the compartment by her side, and Jace found herself telling her everything. Tears trickled down her face in rivulets and she couldn't stop them. Sheila immediately came over to her, sat with her and listened. Everything came out – the frustration of the past few months, feeling abandoned and unloved, the exhausting work schedule, and the absolute loneliness she felt when she missed Craig even while he there with her physically. "Why don't we go out for dinner today?" Sheila suggested. "Have a 'girl' evening. We might even chat up some guys and have fun. What say?" Jace shook her head. "No, Sheila. I'm not up for it. I probably couldn't bear looking happy and normal for a whole evening. And in this dumb, depressed mood, I'll spoil your evening too." "Okay, you're coming to my apartment then. For dinner." As Jace started to make excuses, Sheila cut her off very firmly. "I'm not going to allow you to sit alone at home, moping. Just come with me. I'll make you a great meal. We'll have dinner, some girl talk and some office gossip. Then you can go back home, and you'll feel better. Guaranteed." Jace allowed herself to be persuaded and as the day wore on, welcomed the evening. She hated spending many evenings alone. Craig had left by the time she got home. She opened the empty house and decided to go to Sheila's as soon as she got a soothing bath. One extra minute in the house seemed like hell. She finished bathing and got ready quickly, taking some time on her appearance. A powder blue dress which swirled around her knees and simple gold earrings—that was the desired look, cool and casual. Half an hour after entering the house, she left. ----- Sheila's apartment was illuminated with soft light falling in lazy puddles onto the rough-tiled floor. The profusion of greenery afforded dark shadows in corners. The mood was easy, and Jace relaxed as she let her head fall onto the back of the sofa. She felt a cool something touch her hand. Opening her eyes, she saw Sheila slipping a drink into her hand. "What is it?" she asked, twisting the glass this way and that. "Something cool. Non-alcoholic. I love it after a tiring day. Try it," Sheila said with a smile. Jace took a sip. It was deliciously calming. The syrupy tart liquid slipped down her throat and worked its magic. By the time Jace had finished it, she felt wonderful and buoyed up. Her troubles seemed miles away. "Dinner in five," Sheila called out from the kitchen. Jace nodded her head; then realising that Sheila could not see her, laughed, and shouted out an acknowledgement. Dinner was fabulous. Succulent meatballs in a spicy curry mopped up with large chunks of bread and accompanied with a salad dish which was sharply tangy with lemon juice liberally sprinkled. The after-dinner coffee was rich, creamy, sweet. Jace felt pleasantly drugged as she finished it. The atmosphere, the wonderful food and the sugary coffee had made Jace so relaxed that she plopped down on the sofa and almost fell asleep as Sheila cleared the table. Jace didn't notice when Sheila came and stood in front of her, watching the child-like woman who so attracted her. The shiny, shoulder-length brown hair fell over half her face, her coral lipsticked mouth was open just a bit. The light blue dress was stretched across her breasts, which Sheila thought were a little big in proportion to Jace's small frame; highly desirable. Thighs peeking out from where the dress had risen a bit, and dark shadows underneath drew Sheila's attention. The sleeping woman made one heart-stoppingly sexy picture. Sheila resisted the urge to ravish Jace then and there. Jace was here to relax, not add another complication to her life. Sheila turned abruptly and switched on the TV, tuning in to some random program, preferring to watch Jace rather than the screen. ----- Jace woke up from the lethargic state and blinked her eyes. Once. Twice. Focused on Sheila. Shaking her head, she tried to drive away the sleep and sat up. "God, I'm so sorry Sheila, I didn't mean to go to sleep like that on you. I'm just so..." "It's okay, Jace," Sheila cut in. "You don't need to apologise. In fact I'm glad you could unwind enough to go to sleep here. I'm taking it as a compliment." She smiled. Jace relaxed. She raised her arms and slid into a languid stretch before remembering Sheila and stopping in mid-action, glancing sideways at her. Sheila grinned, easy with her. "Go on. It's okay." A wide smile spilt over her face as she collapsed into a loose heap. "What's on TV?" "Nothing special. A romantic movie." "Watching it?" "Not specially... I had switched on the TV and was flipping channels when I found it. It's just started." Jace concentrated her attention on the movie, and before long they were both engrossed in the sweet, old black-and-white love story. Sheila got them both a drink at some time. The easy evening continued perfectly. As the movie wound down towards a bittersweet ending, Jace realised that she was snuggled up to Sheila, her head on the other woman's arm and Sheila's fingers brushing her breast lightly. The little caresses when Sheila moved were put down to coincidence at first, then to her overripe imagination. It had been ages since anybody had tried to seduce her. Her sexual life, the victim of busy schedules and snatched minutes here and there had no time for romance. To Jace, the present sensations felt good; her mind probably made the situation more than it was. Zodiac Girls Ch. 09 Now, I am not the world's most tidy man - that I will admit. But that is not to admit to being a slob. It's just that I am a man living alone and therefore I may not dust as much as some and I may leave a lot of magazines lying around that, to the anally retentive, might seem messy! The house is clean though; no dirty dishes in the sink and the bathrooms are cleaned regularly...not by me though, I have a cleaner in twice a week! A nice old lady named Doris with bad breath and a hairnet but that's all the agency will send me since that incident with the young Philippina girl I used to have! What can I say about that? It was the middle of the morning. I had been drinking the night before and I had slept in... and I needed to pee and so I went to the bathroom. As you gents know sometimes, when you have to go first thing in the morning, you are accompanied by a stiffie that you are mighty proud of! So I went to the bathroom, opened the door and walked in... and slipped on the bloody towel that was lying there! Now if Maria hadn't have been there cleaning bending over the side of the bath as she was I might have hurt myself! As it was I fell forward, my arms outstretched to stop myself...but unfortunately the angle of my fall meant I grabbed Maria round the hips, pushing her dress up around her waist where upon she cushioned my fall as I fell on top of her! I admit that to some the image of me naked, my erect cock wedged between Maria's ample thighs as she lay over the side of the bath with her dress up around her waist would seem indicative of something akin to a sexual assault. Well, would you believe that is what Maria and the agency tried to say! Luckily, I managed to dissuade them from pressing charges when I threatened to bring in the Health and Safety people about safe working practices (e.g. leaving towels lying on the floor!) Plus the bonus I paid Maria later for the 'extra' services that morning seemed to satisfy her and keep her quiet. But I digress. What I am trying to say that my house is clean but full of too many magazines. The garden though is a different matter! I believe in nature running its course and so I like a garden that is low maintenance...but in my case that means no maintenance! And it was this lack of care of my garden, failing to keep my trees and bushes trimmed that got me involved with another kind of 'bush'...Mrs. Virginia Templeton-Bush to be precise. She was my neighbour; she lived with her husband in the far too perfect house next door. Everything was perfect in their house and garden and both of them seemed to look down their noses at my house, my garden and me. I think it was the multi-coloured VW camper van in my front garden that triggered off the first dispute between us. I know it is a little rusty and yes, it has no wheels but one day I will work on it and it will be as good as new. Mr. Templeton-Bush (or Mr. and Mrs. TB as I came to call them!) came round to see me the second day after they had moved in and had asked if the van could be towed away as Mrs. Templeton-Bush thought it was an 'eyesore' and lowered the tone of the neighbourhood! The cheek of it! That van was a classic...well, it would be after months of renovation and a few thousand pounds but it has sentimental value to me. I remember with fond memory that girls seemed to love VW camper vans and it was magic how they lost all their inhibitions once inside! As I listened politely to Mr. TB out of the corner of my eye, I saw the curtains twitch next door and Mrs. TB's face appeared for a second. Just to let her know what I thought of their request, I reached down and scratched my nuts and adjusted 'Bed Stop' (...the name a favourite girlfriend once gave to a part of my anatomy we both had a lot of respect for!) and you know I'm sure I saw Mrs. TB's eyes widen in shock just before the curtains fell back! Well, after listening to Mr. TB, I told him I would look into the matter immediately but that was six months ago and since then I have had nothing but cold stares from my neighbours! I tried to make friends with them. I tried to be civil but I could not get through to them, especially her for some reason. Now this 'hippie chick' (...see below for a 'noisy' incident in which she featured heavily concerning my new neighbours!) I knew who lived at number sixty-nine. Her name was Chryssa and well, she knew something about hippie stuff like astrology and exotic plants! One day she was wandering around my garden (...I think she was looking for somewhere to plant some of her more 'exotic' plants!) in just a pair of the tightest shorts and the skimpiest top you have ever seen when she felt a pair of eyes upon her. These eyes belonged to the very disapproving Mrs. TB! Mrs. TB came to the fence and started to berate my friend about the state of the garden. This was a big mistake on Mrs. TB's part about the state of her clothing! Chryssa stood there and listened. Her beautiful green eyes studied Mrs. TB as she continued to speak. Finally Chryssa said, "You are a Virgo aren't you?" Mrs. TB suddenly shut up and then replied that, yes she was a Virgo but what did that have to do with anything? My friend Chryssa calmly proceeded to tell Mrs. TB that she was a typical Virgo, a finicky perfectionist trying to bring order to other people's lives by nagging and being a pain in the ass! Chryssa then said she should let her hair down (...in a literal and emotional sense!) and see that the world is not perfect and run to an orderly schedule and that she should make more friends and to learn to live in harmony with her neighbours. Mrs. TB replied that she had all the friends she needed, especially with all the voluntary work that she did and anyway her neighbour (i.e. me!) was obnoxious! Chryssa replied that Mrs. TB shouldn't be so shy and anyway. She said (...I hope she was referring to me and not to Mrs. TB's other neighbour, a seventy-six year old man!), "Your neighbour may be obnoxious but he sure can fuck!" I think it was this last remark that made Mrs. TB turn purple and storm off! Though I have to recount another incident that didn't exactly please Mr. and Mrs. TB. Imagine it's a Sunday afternoon, the weather is hot outside but you are in your bed and you just happen to have an equally hot and completely sex fiend, Karma Sutra-experienced hippie chick named Chryssa (...yes, she from number sixty-nine again!) who just wants to suck and fuck your brains out! So what does a man do? He gives this hippie chick what she wants...but unfortunately just when the Templeton-Bush family is outside in their garden! From what I could gather from a friend who lived across the road, who could also hear and see what was going on, the rising crescendo of feminine screams and masculine shouts of impending orgasmic release went on and on and on while the Templeton-Bushes mowed the lawn and tended to their flowerbeds, trying in a very British manner to ignore the screams and shouts of sexual frenzy! The Templeton-Bushes were very fond of their garden, especially the back garden, which I must admit, was something to see. A neat lawn surrounded by flowerbeds, a gazebo and a water feature straight out of 'Garden Force' it was. Each flowerbed was immaculately trimmed, and woe betide a weed that wanted to grow there. Many a time I had seen Mr. and Mrs. TB on their hands and knees weeding away. Usually this weeding was accompanied by Mrs. TB nagging away at Mr. TB, telling him to be more diligent in his weeding as Mrs. TB, from two metres away, could spot if he had missed one! That poor man must have suffered but still he must have enjoyed some reward. My jungle of a garden was next to their immaculate garden, separated by a high wooden fence so they could not see it and I think everything would have been fine except for the 'tree'! Now the 'tree' was old and over the years the branches had grown and were now overhanging the fence. Instead of asking me to cut the branches back, I actually had a solicitor's letter telling me to cut the offending branches back or face further action! The cheek of it! I was fuming and do you know what I did? I invited some of my more raucous friends round for an impromptu BBQ in my garden where we proceeded to drink copious amounts of lager and eat large amounts of flame grilled burgers. Well, I say flame grilled but I think we did something wrong with the charcoal as all we seemed to do was produce a veritable smokescreen that drifted across the fence into next door! Was it my fault that the Templeton-Bushes were out for the day and had left their washing out to dry...and had left the upstairs windows open as well...and so when they came home they found all their clean fresh clothes and their bedrooms smelling of smoke and burgers? But according to the Environmental Health Officer from the council, who came round the next day, it was my fault and I was therefore banned from any further BBQ's! And I had a further solicitor's letter informing that if the tree wasn't cut back by the date of the August Bank Holiday, which the letter informed me was the date of Mrs. TB's birthday and her 'birthday garden party', I would be in serious trouble...again! And so the day of the August Bank Holiday came around and I woke early because this was the day I was finally going to cut the branches back. During the weeks leading up to the Bank Holiday, I knew that the Templeton-Bushes had been watching me every day to see if I would give in to their threats of court action. So every day I would walk into the garden with my tools, look up at the tree...and smile and walk back to my house! I had no desire to get involved with a stupid court action. Today was the day for me to get my 'chopper' out and trim the branches back! One problem was that, though it would have been easier to trim the branches from the Templeton-Bushes garden, my stupid pride prevented me from asking permission to work in their garden. I had to climb the bloody tree and do a Tarzan impersonation and swing from branch to branch. So here I was, at nine o'clock on a bright sunny August Bank Holiday Monday, standing in my garden, surveying which branches need to be removed when I heard Mr. TB talking to his wife, telling her that he would be gone till two o'clock. In reply I heard Mrs. TB giving Mr. TB a list of do's and don'ts on where to go, what to buy and woe betide him if he was late! I shook my head in disbelief. There she goes again, nag nag nag! Have I described her yet? This Mrs. Templeton-Bush who ordered her husband around like a servant and fired off solicitors' letters to her ever so nice neighbour? I hate to say this but I did find her attractive in a funny sort of way. But you have heard of dressing to impress? Well, Mrs. TB dressed to depress! Dowdy, out of fashion, long sleeved, long skirted dresses were the order of the day for Mrs. TB. Even while working in the garden she wore either trousers or voluminous baggy shorts. I have never once seen her in jeans. But I did wonder what lay beneath the surface of her boring clothes and clunky shoes? I thought that Mrs. TB was maybe in her late thirties. She had heavy blonde hair that was always done up in a severe bun. A slim figure with quite nice looking breasts and as for the legs, the only part of her legs that I could see were her ankles and calves and all I can say is that they were slim and shapely. It's a good job that I am quite fit because clambering up that tree was hard work, lumbered as I was with saws and stuff. I expected Mrs. TB to be in her garden, watching me with a triumphant look on her face but she was nowhere to be seen. I presumed she was in the house getting everything perfect for her perfect birthday party! Everyone, bar me that is, was invited to this grand occasion. Mrs. TB did a lot of voluntary work in the community. People like the local Vicar would be making an appearance. I had decided to start at the top and trim my way down the blasted tree so I climbed and climbed. I was hidden amongst the leafy branches and soon I was dripping sweat even though I was only wearing a t-shirt and shorts. Reaching the top I took a breather and rested on a large branch that seemed able to take my weight. I looked out from my leafy vantage point and surveyed the neighbourhood. As I twisted round, a movement caught my eye from an upstairs window in Mrs. TB's house. Well, to be precise, from what I presumed was Mrs. TB's bedroom window because she was standing with her back to the window...in just her underwear! Now, I have seen a woman in her underwear before and am not usually nonplussed by the sight but this...this was totally unexpected! Totally unexpected in that if someone asked me to describe Mrs. TB's underwear I would have hazarded a guess that she would be wearing a bra in the whitest of white cotton with no lace and plain cotton knickers the size of Belgium! But boy was I wrong! The sight before me was of a shapely attractive body in the blackest, skimpiest, sexiest set of underwear that I had seen in a long time! Now, I have had some practice in the purchasing of, the giving of as a present of and the removal of ladies underwear. I could see, even from a distance, that Mrs. TB's black bra and knickers were expensive, possibly silk. As you can imagine, the sight before had me totally transfixed in a mixture of amazement and, I have to admit, growing lust! So there I was, up in a tree, watching my neighbour in her undies with my cock growing as stiff, as 'wooden' as the branch I was carefully perched upon. But there was a problem! When a man gets an erection it's usually a quite pleasurable occurrence, something to enjoy...except when you are up a tree and the said erection is awkwardly confined in your shorts! So, without taking my eyes of Mrs. TB as she was now leaning forward examining something on her bed I suppose, but presenting me with the sight of her black-knickered bottom sticking out as if to say 'spank me', I let go my grip on the branch and reached down to make 'Bed Stop' (...'Bed Stop' if you remember the name given to my cock!) to lie more comfortably. I blame the heat myself for making my hands sweaty and slippery because once I had rearranged my tackle, I reached out to grip the branch again and yes, I should've also taken my eyes off Mrs. TB's arse as well and looked at what I was doing but I didn't...and so I missed the branch! With one hand flailing into space I lost my balance, lost the branch I was holding onto with my other hand and with a despairing scream fell of the branch! The sound of me hitting each and every branch as I fell was accompanied by a loud 'Ouch!' each time Luckily, hitting every branch slowed my fall until I finally hit the ground with a loud thud! So there I lay, looking up at the sky wondering when the angels would come to take my poor broken body to heaven when, instead of an angel standing over me, Mrs. TB came into view. Now here I will offer up some defence for my later actions. If Mrs. TB had shown an ounce of sympathy or concern for my predicament, I would have thanked her and everything would have been fine. But she didn't...instead I heard the following... ''You stupid man! Look what you have done! My prize roses! You will pay for this!" Let me explain where I had fallen, not that I had much choice in the matter, but I had fallen right smack in the middle of one of her immaculately maintained rosebeds. I felt thorns sticking in some very sensitive areas and rose petals continued to flutter down from the blooms I had knocked flat. But I hardly felt the thorns that impaled me because something snapped (...luckily it had not been my neck!) and a red mist came over me as I lay there, slowly recovering my senses, staring up at Mrs. TB as she continued to berate me and scold me in the same tone of voice that she used on her husband! All the months of living next door to her, the solicitors' letters and now her total disregard for me lying there in her flowerbed, possibly injured, came to the boil...but all she could think about was her fucking roses! With a loud groan, I staggered to my feet and stood in front of her swaying as I gingerly felt if anything was broken. Remember, I was just wearing t-shirt and shorts. Well, they had taken something of a battering on the way down and now were nothing but tatters hanging off me. Now, the question is 'would I have acted the same as I did if I hadn't seen Mrs. TB in her bedroom in just her sexy black knickers?' Well, I don't know. All I know is that as I stood there, my eyes were running up and down Mrs. TB's body, images of her earlier display sending electrical signals from my brains to my nether regions! I suppose in her rush to see what the noise was, she had grabbed the first thing she could find to cover herself which was a dressing gown. She hadn't even had a chance to fasten it. She was holding it tightly closed with both hands. But because she was holding it tightly closed, the dressing gown revealed and accentuated her figure. Since I knew what was underneath the said dressing gown, I felt my cock grow and grow! ''You will of course finish of the job. You seem alright now. I want the branches cut back before the party! You hear! And you will give me something in recompense for the damage you have caused by your bumbling incompetence!" I heard Mrs. TB say. I agree that my next action was not the action I would normally take but I could blame the fall. I did bang my head, didn't I? Or it could have been the heat? Or it could have been the large erection I was now sporting? A combination of all three maybe? But whatever the cause, I answered Mrs. TB by reaching for my tattered t-shirt and pulled at it until it fell around me in rags. And then my shorts followed! Can you imagine what Mrs. TB was thinking at that moment? Here she was in her garden and suddenly a hairy wild man had replaced her annoying, untidy neighbour! A sweaty hairy wild man with absolutely no clothes on, his hair sticking up and full of leaves, twigs and rose petals adorning his body! And as her eyes slowly dropped, a wild man with an enormous erection...an erection that to her seemed to be growing larger! I suppose I could plead temporary insanity or blame the concussion that I was possibly suffering from for the later events. But at the time, I knew what I wanted to do. I took a step forward towards Mrs. TB...and she took a step back. I moved forward again, she moved backwards, never taking her eyes from my engorged cock. Maybe 'Bed Stop' was leading me so to speak. ''I'm going to give you something my dear Mrs. TB for the damage I have caused your precious flowerbed. Something that you will remember for a long time!" I said as I advanced towards her. I think it was the implication of what I was to 'give' her that caused her to emit a little squeal and turn round and run towards the house. As she turned, I lunged forward but could only grab the sash that was dangling from her dressing gown. Mrs. TB pulled away and left me standing there holding the sash. With a loud menacing growl, I took off after the now running Mrs. TB, and yes, if anyone was watching, it must have been quite a sight! A normally smart and respectable Mrs. Templeton-Bush now clad only in a dressing gown and underwear being chased by a naked man in her own garden! I just about reached Mrs. TB as she attempted to close the back door in my face, but try as she might, she couldn't quite get the door closed. As I pushed, the door slowly opened. Suddenly Mrs. TB let go of the door and ran away through the kitchen. I stumbled in after her and stopped for a second, shutting the door quietly behind me. Now, I must stress here that this was not my normal behaviour. I do not chase my neighbours into their houses and I certainly don't spend time in their houses naked...except for that occasion with the lovely Chryssa at number sixty-nine! Now she is hot; a very beautiful woman! You know she had me naked within minutes of entering her house, ostensibly to discuss a quilting bee group she wanted me to join. Then she was dragging me upstairs telling me that she wanted me to...No! I digress, that story I will tell later! Mrs. TB's kitchen was what you would expect from her; very neat and tidy, nothing out of place and everything in its place! The place was sparkling. I wondered if she ever did any cooking in there. The place was spotless! But the kitchen held my attention for only mere seconds as I felt my cock twitch in anticipation. So I left the kitchen in pursuit of my hostess, Mrs. TB! The layout of the house was the same was mine and so I peeped in the dining room first but nothing was in there except a dining room table and chairs straight out of a catalogue, not a speck of dust to be seen! Zodiac Girls Ch. 09 As I stood in the hall, I heard a voice coming from the next room, what I call the living room but some of you more posh people might call it something different; maybe the parlour? I stood in the doorway of this room, my toes curling into the plush heavy carpet as I looked around. Across the pristine carpet (...I bet they had to take their shoes off in this house!), a telephone line snaked towards the back of the sofa. Now I would call any man a liar if he didn't feel the same as I did at what was peeping out from behind the sofa! Mrs. TB was hiding behind the sofa, or so she thought she was but unfortunately for her, her delicious bottom was on view! Her dressing gown had ridden up. I reached down and stroked my cock as I drank in the sight her bottom clad in those black silk panties. ''Cyril! Cyril! Pick up the phone! He's here in the house...and... and he's covered in leaves and twigs! What am I to do? Cyril!" was what I heard emanating from behind the sofa. Luckily for me, Mrs. TB was trying to contact her husband Cyril instead of the police. "Cyril! What have I told you about not answering your phone! Wait until you get home! Cyril, he has a much bigger thingy than you! Cyril, what should I do...?" I smiled to myself as even now Mrs. TB was nagging away at poor old Cyril! I reached down and pulled at the telephone line and, with a little cry of despair from behind the sofa, the telephone came tumbling out. I placed the telephone neatly onto the dust-free little table next to the dust-free television and I stood there, leaves, twigs and rose petals falling off of me to flutter onto the carpet. ''Do you mind? You are making an awful mess!" came a voice from behind the sofa. I turned my head to see Mrs. TB's face peering from around the corner of the sofa! See? She always has the knack of saying the most infuriating things! There I was, standing naked in her house and she admonishes me for making a mess! A red veil descended and I strode over to the sofa and pulled it away from the wall. As I did, Mrs. TB sprang up and attempted to run away but this time I was too quick for her. She squealed as I pulled her to me and I held her tight against me and yes, it did feel good having her wriggling against me I can tell you! I then realised that I was still carrying the sash from her dressing gown that was now gaping open in a very enticing way, revealing that I had been right; she was wearing black silk undies! I pulled her arms tight behind her and looped the sash around her wrists, making a rough but effective knot. So there I was, in Mrs. TB's house, me naked, she in just her underwear and she with her arms tied behind her back...and she was at my mercy! There was a big chair behind me and so I backed towards it, pulling the struggling Mrs. TB with me. I literally fell into the chair pulling her with me, the cool leather certainly felt good against my hot and scratched bottom. But I don't think that Mrs. TB felt the same way as she found herself across my lap, my erect cock sticking up into her tummy! I took the opportunity to take a breather here and I suppose I should've have come to my senses but seeing as that she had fallen across my lap, Mrs. TB's dressing gown had almost fallen off her, thus revealing her body to my hungry lustful eyes I didn't, unfortunately for her, come to my senses! Once I had a close up view of that bottom a few scant inches from my eyes, I was completely lost and nothing but nothing would stop me from giving Mrs. Templeton-Bush her 'birthday present'! I reached out and smoothed away the wrinkles and creases from the knickers that encased Mrs. TB's bottom. At the touch of hand she stiffened but surprisingly didn't make a sound. This intrigued me but also infuriated me and so, to elicit a response, I raised my hand and then SPANK! The resounding, satisfying (...well, to me anyway!) sound of hand connecting with buttock was greeted with only a small squeak from Mrs. TB! What the hell I thought to myself? Had I lost my strength in the fall? So I did it again, but harder...SPANK! Again, another little squeak but this time followed by a little sigh...of pleasure? No, that could not be right I thought to myself! I was supposed to be punishing her remember? I then started to spank Mrs. TB's bottom in earnest, alternately spanking each buttock, watching as her buttocks quivered and shook with each impact. But instead of tears and cries for me to stop, I was met with moans and squeals that I came increasingly to recognise as sounds of pleasure! Remember that lady I mentioned earlier, Chryssa, from number sixty-nine? Well, she liked to have her bottom spanked while dressed as a French maid so I certainly recognised Mrs. TB sounds! I stopped and slumped back in the chair, my hand smarting from the severe spanking I had just administered. Bugger me! Do you know what the respectable Mrs. TB said? "Don't stop now! I want more! You spank so much better than the Vicar and his wife!" I have to admit that at first I thought the fall from the tree had been more severe than I had thought and that I was now hearing things. But Mrs. TB turned her head to me and said, ''Pull my knickers down you brute and spank my naughty bare ass!" So I did! Feverishly I pulled her knickers down, leaving them as a black band of silk around her thighs and do you know what? She was as wet and as slick as a turned-on woman can be! Her pussy was positively streaming juices as she pushed her ass up higher, offering herself to be spanked harder! As I spanked away, Mrs. TB kept urging me on, ''Oh yes! That's nice! Oooh! That one stung! Again! Harder! I wish the Vicar's wife could see this, she would be so jealous! Ouch! That was a good one! Wait until I tell Millicent about you, she will want you to visit the vicarage for one of her afternoon soirees!" As I looked down at Mrs. TB's rapidly reddening bottom, I noticed how her legs had spread wider offering me a good view of her trimmed pussy that looked so inviting! Finally, I had to stop. Mrs. TB had worn my arm out and I slumped back, staring up at the ceiling in wonderment at the turn of events! When she realised that I had finally stopped, Mrs. TB wriggled and slid from my lap. Suddenly when I looked down, she was kneeling between my legs, pushing against me, urging me to spread my legs wider. Still with her hands tied behind her back, she lunged forward hungrily, leaning down to literally engulf my cock in her mouth, sucking noisily and making gurgling sounds as she bobbed up and down! I moved my hands to her hair and tugged and her hair came cascading down from the bun that earlier had looked so severe and so neat. I plunged my hands into her hair and revelled in the silkiness of it and pulled her head down further onto my straining cock. Now this would turn on any man to the point of flooding her mouth with his cum. I was no exception but I wanted something more and so I pulled Mrs. TB's head away from my cock. And do you know, it was a struggle! That woman would have swallowed my cock if she could have and as I finally pulled her away, she turned her hungry eyes up to look at me, a line of saliva still joining her lips to my cock. ''Tell me about the Vicar and his wife!" I demanded as I stood up, pulling her to her feet as well. As Mrs. TB started to talk, I pulled her with me from the room towards the stairs. As we walked, or I walked, she hobbled at first until her black knickers slowly slid down her legs until she finally kicked them away, she told me something about the Vicar and his wife! Mrs. Templeton-Bush, in a terribly posh English voice, told me a tale of suburban sex romps in the vicarage between herself, the Vicar and his wife. How they had started last year, exactly to the day she said on her birthday. Mrs. TB had gone to the vicarage to help the Vicar's wife, Millicent, prepare a stall for the local jumble sale. They had been sorting out various bags of clothing etc when they had come across a bag that contained various items of bondage gear including PVC outfits, a paddle, a riding crop and various sizes of rubber dildos! Now both Mrs. TB and the Vicar's wife were old friends from way back. It had taken them a long time to overcome their natural Virgo shyness and become firm friends. Again, both being Virgos they had inquisitive minds and so the stall for the jumble sale was soon forgotten as they examined and 'tested' each item in the bag! When we reached the top of the stairs, Mrs. TB finished her story by telling me that the Vicar had walked in on them after choir practice! She said that she had been naked, bent over the back of the sofa while Millicent, the Vicar's wife, had been wearing a PVC corset and boots and was sliding a twelve inch black dildo in and out of her dripping cunt! I knew the staid Vicar and his prim wife by sight only and the picture that Mrs. TB had painted for me of that day made me think twice about labelling people by looks alone! Especially when Mrs. TB told me that the day had finished with the Vicar taking her up the ass followed by his wife, Millicent while wearing a PVC 'gimp' suit! As you can imagine, the relaying of such a tale as we ascended the stairs in Mrs. TB's home kept my cock twitching in anticipation, especially as I still had Mrs. TB tied up and in a near state of complete nakedness! Now in my defence here I must say that I offered to untie Mrs. TB but she politely refused and said she was quite comfortable. I also asked her which was her bedroom and she politely informed me that it was the second door on the left. Is this sounding as surreal as it seemed at the time? Remember I had come into this house with one intention, that intention being to teach Mrs. TB some manners and to give her a 'present' she would never forget for her birthday! But events had taken a course that had my head spinning but also had my cock, still wet from Mrs. TB's mouth, as rigid as flag pole! And so here I was, naked, bruised and scratched with my head aching standing with Mrs. Virginia Templeton-Bush, in front of her bedroom door...and you know something? I felt absolutely fucking wonderful! We entered the bedroom and the first thing you noticed was, like the rest of the house, everything was so tidy! The bed was made, no clothes were lying on the floor and no drawers or wardrobe doors were open. Now I took all this in within a second of walking in but my attention was soon elsewhere as Mrs. TB stood in front of me and asked, ever so politely, if I could be a help and strip her naked! At this moment I did sort of wonder who was in control here. Was I the same 'brute' who had come here with the intention, well, let's not beat around the bush here (...no pun intended!), to give Mrs. Templeton-Bush my cock as a birthday present! Or was she now in control? I sort of resolved the issue by grabbing and pulling at the dressing gown she wore, effectively stripping her of it by literally tearing it from her body! She was pulled hither and thither as the dressing gown came apart in my rough and urgent hands but the only sounds she made were of pleasure! She squealed and cried for me to stop, but when I had finished she was almost purring. And her bra, I hear you ask, what happened to that? Well, I had noticed a pair of scissors on her very neat and orderly dressing table and so I held the scissors up in front of her face and I was glad to see a hint of fear in her eyes. I smiled the most evil smile I could manage and cut first one bra strap and then the other. My hands reached out of their own free will and pushed that very sexy black bra up and over her tits where upon I spun her round and unclipped her bra and tossed it over my shoulder! I spun her back round to feast my eyes on her really nice tits which had very prominent and very biteable nipples when she said something that again brought another surreal element to the situation. (I should say now before I relay what happened next that, I later discovered that this was trait of a Virgo, a deBed Stope for tidiness and order). ''Could you be a dear and tidy up before we...umm, you know...do it?" As she said this, her eyes were surveying the remains of her dressing gown lying in rags around her feet and her bra which, after I had flung it away, had ended up hanging from a lamp shade! Here she was, Mrs. Virginia Templeton-Bush, hands tied behind her back, stark naked in her bedroom with a naked man sporting a large, pre-cum leaking, erection...and she was concerned about 'tidiness'!!! What else could I do but growl in anger, spin her round and push her face down onto her immaculately made bed so her ass was at the just the right angle! Just the right angle that is for me position myself behind her, take a firm grip of my cock and push my throbbing rod of flesh against her cunt, her dripping wet cunt that is! I hope that any lingering thoughts that Mrs. TB had of 'tidiness' were dispelled the instant she felt the head of my cock against her cunt because if she didn't then I am definitely going to retire and become a monk! But I suppose the sounds she started to make as I slowly slid into her welcoming cunt, the sighs of pleasure, the cries of 'Oooooh!' meant that she had stopped thinking of anything else but my cock and me! The woman under me, the woman on the end of my hard driving, penetrating cock was not the Mrs. Templeton-Bush that I had grown to know and dislike! No, this woman was someone I could grow to like! By the way, I hastily untied the sash from her dressing gown so that she could more easily move under me. I did this because she was trying valiantly to push herself back, wanting to impale herself on my cock. Once I had untied her, she turned her head to look at me and, blushing ever so prettily, begged me to go faster, to fuck harder! And so I did! But the neatly made bed soon became very rumpled as we fucked harder and harder. She was pulling at the duvet in her passion and deBed Stope for release. Do you know I was quite proud of myself in that I didn't cum within the first few strokes, so excited was I with the whole situation! Here I must say with some pride though that Mrs. TB did cum... at least twice to my reckoning due to the screams and yells she was emitting! Oh, and the cunt juices that seemed to flood from her and wash my pounding cock also seemed to indicate that she had cum! Have I mentioned what I was doing with my fingers and thumbs yet? No? Well, I was pulling apart her ass cheeks and drooling at the sight of her puckered asshole. I was pressing my thumbs against this tight and inviting little bud, this gateway to heaven! As my thumbs pressed deeper, eventually a thumb popped into her asshole. Mrs. TB greeted this penetration with such a wail that I thought I had hurt her but in fact she then turned her head to look at me and cried, "Put your cock in my ass! Bugger me silly!" That is an invitation I don't need repeating twice I can tell you! As I pulled my throbbing cock from Mrs. TB's cunt, it was if she tried to hold me within her. The walls of her cunt were gripping me and I marvelled at the sight of her pink flesh around my cock. I finally pulled out with a lovely squishy noise, my cock glistening with her frothy juices. Mrs. TB slumped down onto her bed, her upper body flat, her hands balled into fists as she gripped tight the duvet while she lewdly pushed her ass up in the air. I took a second to savour the moment. My body now longer ached from the fall but did ache for a different reason and only flooding Mrs. TB with copious amounts of cum would cure this new ache! I leaned forward to present my cock to Mrs. TB's inviting bud, holding my cock, feeling how deliciously slick it was from the juices from her sopping wet cunt. Even though I had opened her bud up a little with my intrusive thumbs, Mrs. TB was still very tight and I had to push and push just to get the bulbous head of my cock inside her ring of muscle! It was such an erotic and sensual sight though as the head of my cock pressed against her, squashed tight into her asshole, until with a cry from Mrs. TB I slid inside! Now, believe me when I say that I had to exercise extreme concentration to prevent exploding inside her at the very moment my cock entered her asshole. Remember, I had seen her in just her black silk lingerie. I had entered her home with the intention of raping her as an act of revenge. I had spanked her in anger. She had greedily sucked my cock after the spanking. She had told me such a sexy tale involving the Vicar and his wife and then I had fucked her. And so the result was...I fucking desperate to CUM! I did manage a few strokes though, my cock held prisoner inside the tight walls of her ass, but then I felt it building and there was nothing I could do to stop it. My muscles started to tense up, the blood in my veins was boiling, every nerve ending screamed for release! With my hands gripping Mrs. TB's hips and pulling her body tight against me, I surrendered to the onrushing climax that swept me and up to such a peak that I felt ten feet tall! Spurt after spurt of hot cum jetted from my cock to flood Mrs. TB's bowels. I shouted loudly in joyous release as at that moment it felt as if my whole body was emptying inside her asshole, so intense was the sheer pleasure that swept through my body. Mrs. TB joined me in shouting for joy as unbeknownst to me she had been busy with her fingers while I had been fucking her ass. Frantically rubbing her clit and pulling at her cunt lips so as to combine the feeling of being stuffed in the ass with cock with a shuddering orgasm! But she didn't just cum... she gushed! A veritable flood of her cum and juices poured out to soak her fingers, her hands and the duvet! We both finally collapsed on to the bed, our breathing slowly returning to normal as the tremors and aftershocks of pleasure pulsed through our sweat-soaked bodies. As I lay there, the aches and pains from my fall from the tree forgotten, I thought that maybe after this I would be regarded as a good neighbour! And you know, I think will be a good neighbour now because as Mrs. TB lay beneath me, my slowly wilting cock still trapped in her asshole, she said, ''Do you think you will be able to finish cutting back the branches before my birthday party...and do something about the flowerbed you fell into? Oh, I will have to really rush to get ready now to clean downstairs and to change this bedding before my guests arrive! The Vicar and his wife can't abide having an orgy on a rumpled bed you know! Oh, and you will of course come to my party...but you will smarten yourself up? And please bring that nice girl Chryssa with you! I am so glad that we have broken the ice so to speak. You see being a Virgo means that I am shy. But now, after how shall I put it, 'getting to know you', I feel we will become good friends!" As she continued to prattle on, I groaned but smiled at the prospect of the party to come... To be continued... Zodiac Girls Ch. 10 Zodiac Girls, Libra: Stephanie I learned about Libra women from a girl named Stephanie Bendennick. She'd tell me all about astrology while we lay in bed beneath her open window during the cool October nights, the window cracked so we could hear the rustle of the dead leaves in the trees outside. Stephanie was a Libra so I suppose she knew. Most people refer to Libra as the Balances, but Stephanie also called it the Great Pivot of the year: the time when summer yielded to autumn and we said goodbye to the sunlight and prepared for the darkness of winter. Stephanie would wear a very glossy lipstick at night, because she knew I liked to see her lips glisten in the candlelight as she opened her mouth to go down on me, and often she would pose like that for my benefit, her lips trembling slightly as they approached the drop of clear fluid crowning the head of my prick. She would press her lips against the dome of my cock in a soft, lingering kiss and just leave them there, letting me feel the warmth of her mouth and the slick greasiness of her lipstick, and letting me feel her eager impatience. She would wait until I moaned or swore out of impatience of my own, and then she would slowly lift her head, expertly stringing out the drop of my lubricant into a shining strand, seeing how far she could go before the web of fluid broke. Then it would be her turn to groan herself at her own whorish behavior. She'd toss her hair back and look at me, her lips glistening even brighter now that my own sexual juices adorned her mouth, but not as bright as her eyes, which positively glowed with a lewd satisfaction. This was when we'd first started sleeping together, and it was a constant wonder to me how she could be so composed and businesslike when she went off to work, and yet be so sensual at night, even wanton. She laughed when I mentioned it to her and told me that Libras were reconcilers and balancers, that they could incorporate the most outlandish opposites in their natures, but I just took it as the usual bar-level astrology talk. People are always reading wonderful things about themselves into astrology. I see now that she was trying to tell me something, but I didn't appreciate it at the time. As I said, we'd just started sleeping together. The sex was great, but there was a lot about her that I didn't know. Stephanie worked in a gallery on the near north side in a very chic neighborhood that had originally been industrial but was now being gentrified, a lot of lofts and smart, refurbished store fronts. A lot of nice cars and a lot of new money. On those mornings when I'd spent the night I was always amazed at the way she looked when she left for work. Her clothes were impeccable, her make-up perfect, her jewelry just right. She looked, in fact, just like these women I saw from my cab as I cruised Michigan Avenue looking for fares, the ones who wouldn't look twice at me, wouldn't look twice at anyone because they instinctively knew that they wouldn't see anything worth their attention. Not so much perfect in beauty as they were perfect in their attitude and demeanor: icy bitches, self-possessed, confidant, and remote. That's the kind of client base Stephanie worked with, and she'd learned to blend in with them, to mirror their own perfection. She was very good at what she did, and it was always a thrill to see her emerge from the bedroom in the morning in her crisp, sharp clothes, her hair arranged just so, or have her look at me with eyes that were so perfectly lined and made up that they could hang on a gallery wall themselves, eyes that just last night I had seen closed in pleasure as she arched up at me during sex. She looked so good that it always made me feel especially shabby and brutish. It turned me on. It turned me on so much that we began to make a game of it. She loved for me to be rough with her, to almost rip those perfect clothes from her body, throw her up against the wall when she got in from work and devour her. We talked about doing the same thing in the gallery where she worked, about me coming in off the street pretending to be a client, then pouncing on her right there, amidst all the potted plants and expensive art work. She liked the idea. The night I first mentioned it she got very excited; so excited that she actually pushed me down on the bed, pulled me pants down and rode me like a wild woman. It was the hottest I'd ever seen her. But it wasn't for a week or two that I actually decided to do it, and then it was more on impulse than anything else. It had been a shitty Friday. I was rejected for yet another job and spent all Friday night and Saturday behind the wheel of the damned cab. I took it out again on Sunday too, but I was just fed up. I couldn't handle it anymore. I turned the cab over to Artie, the owner, paid my nut, and drove over to Stephanie's gallery. She smiled when she saw me come in, but it took just the slightest effort on my part to cue her that the game was on. I was already in a rotten mood, so it wasn't hard to brush off her greeting and slip into the role of some rich asshole who was interested in buying some art. This was Sunday afternoon near closing time and Stephanie was alone in the gallery. She tumbled to the game immediately and effortlessly put on her professional face. She didn't even crack a smile, or not much of one. I was wearing my cab clothes: jeans, a turtleneck and a leather jacket. Stephanie had on a bunch of designer stuff. I couldn't tell you who made what, but she wore a charcoal gray skirt, a blue blouse and a kind of velvet jacket over it. She wore a bunch of African beads as a choker around her neck. They were small, black, and shiny, and strung on thin silver chain. Has she known I was coming she couldn't have dressed better. Gallery Bitch in all her chic, drop-dead glory. "These are by Milos Januszak," she told me, leading me into the rear of the big room. "He's very hot right now, especially in Germany. We were lucky to get these ahead of his New York show, which won't open for another three months. After that, you won't be able to touch anything of his for under several thousand dollars." The paintings she was showing me were intentionally schizophrenic. On the surface they showed the kind of flat, postcard realism of David Hockney, but wherever there was a doorway or window in the paintings, weird, surrealistic images intruded. The impression was one of a drugged stillness inside, a world gone mad outside, as if the artist had taken thorazine or some other intense, anti-psychotic medication in the middle of a bad episode. I liked them a lot, and so apparently did Stephanie. There was an actual glow beneath her make-up as she showed them to me. Or maybe it was the excitement of the game. There was a definite feeling of sexual menace in the air, and I didn't mind it in the least. I was frustrated and angry about things in my life, and Gallery Bitch seemed to be the perfect target to let it out on. "This one is nice," I said. It showed a picture of a woman at a table peeling potatoes, looking like a madonna of the kitchen. Everything was done in flat and tranquil pastels, until you looked out through her window. Outside was a childish representation of a devil painted in a livid red, making a threatening gesture with his pitchfork. It was kind of comical, in a disturbing sort of way. "That's 'Potatoes Again'," Stephanie said. She strolled over and turned on her heel to face the painting. It was almost a runway model's turn, only not as affected. She did it very well. She held a pencil in one hand and her glasses on her nose, and she looked over them at me as she said, "Milos usually doesn't work in that size, portrait size. That makes this one especially valuable. And it's quite affordable, ideal for the entry-level collector." She was into her role now, and she was very good at it. Her tone was cold, just slightly superior, and I didn't miss that condescending little dig at the end. I could see how she was so successful at this: wonderfully feminine yet knowledgeable and intimidating at the same time. "But what does it mean?" I asked. "Ms... " I looked at her name tag, which identified her as Stephanie Bent. Her real name was Bendennick. I imagine this little ploy allowed some awkward jokes at her expense, a way to make the customers feel more at ease. "Ms. Bent." She allowed herself the slightest hint of a smile. "In works like this, we don't really ask what the artist intended to convey. Very often the artists doesn't even know himself. What's important is whether it speaks to you, Mr...." "Dick," I said. "Seth Dick." It was the best I could come up with. "The third," I added. "Mr. Dick." She didn't even crack a smile. She was good. "Tell me, what does this painting mean to you?" She turned her back to me and faced the painting, standing so close I could smell her perfume and see the wispy hairs at the back of her neck where they'd escaped her French twist. It had been a full day for her, but she still looked fresh. The sight of the clasp on her choker inexplicably excited me. I wondered what underwear she had on. It occurred to me that I rarely saw her in her underwear when she dressed. Only when I undressed her. She hadn't known I was coming today. What sort of underwear did she choose for herself? "To me, it's the picture of a woman with demons in her life. Demons she doesn't even know about." I said. Outside the Sunday traffic was very light, there were only a few cars in the street. The mid-October afternoon light was softening and already had that golden melancholy autumn slant: Edward Hopper light. It was very still in the gallery, so quiet we could hear the ticking of the big antique clock on the wall. Somehow I could tell that Stephanie was getting excited. There was something a bit forbidden about letting me see her professional self, a part of her I'd never seen. It excited us both. "What sort of demons would a woman like that possibly have, I wonder," she asked, her back to me. "I think they're sexual demons." My tongue felt unusually thick. We were inches apart. "I think the woman has sexual urges that aren't being satisfied. I think she's waiting for that devil to come in and fuck her." I heard Stephanie inhale, but it wasn't a gasp. She shifted her weight but didn't lose her cool. "Is that right?" she asked. "Yes. I think she's waiting for that devil to come into her house and throw her down on that table and shove his big hard cock into her. She's waiting for it because she knows she's a whore, and all whores need to be fucked. No. They don't just need it,. They want it. It's what she wants." She was going to say something and started to turn, but I took hold of her arms and held her there, facing the painting. I felt her jump when I touched her. "Surely not all women, Mr. Dick?" "All women," I said. I put my hands on her shoulders and pulled her back against me with such force that she dropped her pencil. "What else is going to happen to her?" she asked me. "He's going to make her suck his cock. He's going to make her put down her little paring knife and lie on her back on that table and spread her legs while he shoves his prick into her mouth, and he's going to finger fuck her while he's doing it." I was holding her so close now that I was speaking into her hair, her dark, fragrant hair. "Yes," she said. "Tell me more." "He's going to shove his finger into her pussy but she's going to try and ignore it. She's going to pretend that she doesn't want this, but he's the devil and he knows how to treat her, and before long she's going to start moving, and moaning a little, and he's going to see that she loves it, that she likes being treated that way, and he's going to know that she's hot for it, but that's okay. She wants him to know. She wants to be his whore. She's tired of fucking peeling potatoes, and she wants to be his whore. She wants to be dirty." I could feel her chest rising and falling as I said this. Her breathing was deep. She was forcing herself to be calm. "Why would she want that?" she asked, her voice hardly above a whisper. I let go of her shoulders and ran my hands down over her breasts. I flicked her velvet jacket open so that only her bra and her blouse were between me and her flesh. Her bra was very sheer and I had no trouble finding her nipples; they were already starting to harden. I took them between my fingers and squeezed gently and I spoke into the side of her neck. "She wants it because sometimes a woman wants a man to treat her like a slut. Sometimes she wants him to make her do all the dirty things she really wants to do but can't do herself. She wants to be made to do them." When I turned her around and kissed her she didn't respond, not at first, but as the kiss went on I could feel her starting to melt against me. Anyhow, it didn't matter what she did, because I was hot for her now. I could feel her expensive velvet jacket under my hands and the warmth of her body beneath that. I could feel the strap of her bra beneath her shoulder blades, that little gate of privacy, and for some reason the thought of her nakedness beneath her clothes suddenly inflamed me. "Lock the door," I said. "You're officially closed." "Jeff, not here." she said. "Let me close up and then we can..." "Lock the fucking door," I said. I watched her walk over to the front door and shoot the bolt. There was a decorative shade on the front door and she pulled it down. She walked over to the bare brick wall and turned off the lights, first the lights in front, then the lights in back, and finally the can lights than shined on the paintings. There was just a little glow from the office in back and the red emergency exit sign, though the front of the gallery was still bright from what sun worked its way down between the big buildings. Where we stood it was dim and filled with interesting shadows. I'd never seen her walk the way she walked now. She wasn't the gallery bitch and she wasn't the girl I knew in private, but someone in between. She walked like a woman going to meet her fate, a woman who knew she was about to be fucked. "Really, baby, someone might still come in," she said, but she didn't mean it anymore. "No one's coming in. It's dinner time on a Sunday night. You told me yourself that this was the deadest time of the week. And let them come if they want. They're not getting in." "You're crazy," she said. "This is where I work. Why should I let you..." "Because I'm bigger and stronger and because I want to," I said, grabbing her wrists and pushing her back against the wall. "Because you fucking drive me crazy, Ms. Bent, and because I want to fuck this tight-assed little superior cunt who works in this gallery." I pushed her up against the wall and leaned against her, letting her feel the weight of my body and the hardness of my cock against her thigh. She arched back at me and made a pretense of struggling, wanting me to work for it. But that was okay with me. I was willing to work for it and I like the feeling of using my strength against her. Maybe I'm a caveman, but that turns me on. The game had gone better than I'd ever imagined, and I was seriously on fire for her. Not just to get my rocks off, but to turn her into a slut for me, here in this art gallery with all the finer things of life around us. Seeing her all dressed up like this with her jewelry and her glasses and her public face on was like catching her with another lover and I was actually jealous. I wanted her to be mine again. Besides, she's so damned sexy when she struggles. Her wrists are thin and she's got beautiful fingers, and I liked feeling them twist around in my grip. She grunted and pushed back instinctively but that only drove herself against my cock and got me hotter. And I wasn't alone. The game had gotten to Stephanie too. We'd talked about a lot of fantasies but rape hadn't been one of them, but now she was really into playing her part, writhing against the wall and testing my strength. I let her fight until it was clear to her that she didn't have a chance against me, and when I felt her give up that made me even hotter still. "Don't move," I said as I backed away from her. She was leaning with her shoulders against the bare brick wall and when I let go of her wrists she let her hands fall uselessly to her sides. "Don't even lift a finger, understand?" A lock of hair had fallen in her face and she watched me from beneath it as my fingers went to the buttons on her blouse. She started to raise her hands when I unbuttoned the top one but I just growled at her and she stopped. She whimpered once in protest as I unbuttoned her blouse and roughly pulled it open, but her eyes were on me all the time, enjoying the look of desire on my face, and by now I must have looked like I was possessed Impeccable as always, Stephanie wore a blue bra that matched her blouse almost perfectly: very feminine, and very sexy. I took her wrists again and kept them pressed against the rough brick wall as I lowered my face to her tits and began to lick and bite her, pushing my tongue down inside her bra, trying to find her nipples. She started to twist around again, so I let go of her wrists and reached down for her skirt, which I began to gather up around her hips. My fingers felt the slickness of her slip. "No," she moaned. "Don't! Please!" I couldn't tell if she was still playing or not, and worse, I didn't know if I was either. I wanted her desperately now. To me she was some rich, stuck-up, gallery owner and I felt like some grimy hoodlum from the streets, desperate for a taste of her classy body. She pushed uselessly at my shoulders as I got her skirt up around her waist. I held her hips and got down on my knees to where her slip was stretched tight against her thighs, then grabbed the slick fabric and slid that up too. What a hot bitch she was! She was wearing stockings and a garter belt. She must have guessed I was coming today. I couldn't believe she always went to work this way without my knowing it, so she either dressed special for me or she dressed this way for herself, just to make herself hot. Either way she inflamed me. My jealousy against her other life surged in my veins. I pulled the slip all the way up and pressed my face to her crotch, smelling her perfume, studying the sexual architecture of the dark tops of her stockings, the garters against her tanned skin, her matching blue panties. She grabbed onto my wrists as if she needed to hold on for what she knew was coming, and as I stuck out my tongue and licked her between her legs she drove her nails into my skin. "Oh God!" she wailed. "You're just a hot pussy, aren't you?" I whispered into her crotch. "You're just like the woman in the painting too, right baby? You want it just as much as I do, right here at work. You want my big cock fucking up between your legs just as much as I want to give it to you." "No," she breathed, "No..." But I could smell her own arousal by now, and I could feel her thighs shiver as I screwed my tongue around in the little cleft between her labia, pressing the fabric of her panties up against her. I pushed her panties out of the way with my fingers and began to lick her naked pussy, kneeling in front of her like a supplicant. Stephanie raised her hand to her mouth and bit her knuckles to keep from screaming as I found her wet flesh and slid my tongue over it., and though she might be scandalized by what I was doing to her here in her place of employment, she reflexively thrust her hips out at me, begging for more. I held her skirt and slip up over her stomach with one hand but the grinding of her hips brought the edges down on either side, framing her pussy between hanging curtains of charcoal gray. I ran my middle finger into my mouth to wet it and then worked it up into her cunt. Zodiac Girls Ch. 10 She gave a strangled little cry, surprisingly loud in the empty gallery. In fact, everything was loud, echoing among the silent paintings and the mute sculpture. I could clearly hear her grunts and whimpers of protest and pleasure, the scrape of her clothes against the brick wall, even the thick sound of my tongue working in her wet flesh. I ate her pussy and finger fucked her and she hung between her two worlds, now horrified at what I was doing, and then reaching for my hair and pulling my face against her, fighting not to give in. But she was fighting a losing battle. "Spread your legs," I told her, taking my finger from her cunt. She did as I told her, at least as far as she could, and I slid my finger back and pressed it against her little asshole. "Oh no, Jeff, No!" she hissed, but I kept on sucking and tonguing her cunt and pressing my finger against her till I felt her give and the tip of my finger slid into her rectum. "Oh God!" she screamed, "Oh you fucking bastard!" Music to my ears! I knew she'd love it, the ultimate violation. My finger in her tight ass told her I'd stop at nothing, that she had nothing I wouldn't go after and take. I'd stand her up against the wall and finger fuck her asshole and eat her pussy despite her nice clothes and all the art of the walls, the weird, mute sculpture and the ticking clock. It worked on her, made her hot. Her face was a mask of anguish, the look of a woman who's losing her grip on herself, who knows she's been found out. That was just where I wanted her. I pulled my finger from her. "On the floor," I said. "On your back. And get those panties off before I rip them off." She had no place to hide now, no sense of outrage to invoke. I took off my shoes and socks and undid my pants, slid them down my legs as I watched her fumbling with her garters, unhooking them so she could get her panties off. Her fingers were shaking. It was getting dark out now, but there was still enough light in the front of the gallery that someone pressing their face to the glass might have seen us, a gleam of pale skin towards the back of the room. I made Stephanie put her shoes back on. I wanted her to be wearing as much of her power clothes as possible. I wanted to fuck her in her gallery bitch outfit. Her cunt seemed hotter and softer than normal as I sunk into her, her cry louder and sharper as I forced my hard cock into her pussy. I held her wrists down against the bare wooden floor and she bridged her ass up off the floor to take me inside. Despite her thinness she wasn't a weak girl, especially when it came to sexual strength, the ability to push back at me so hard that she could lift my ass from the bed. Now with the hard floor beneath her giving her no place to retreat to, nothing to cushion the force of my thrusts, she used her strength to pull me inside and keep me there. She couldn't plant her feet on the polished floor because of her shoes. She had to bring her ankles up almost under her ass, but when she did she finally found her rhythm and fucked me hard, giving as good as she got until the first little orgasm knocked the strength out of her and made her lose her concentration. But that was okay. This was supposed to be a rape, but she'd been fucking me like she loved every minute of it. Her clothes were just a mess. Her skirt and slip were up around her waist, her blouse was completely open and out of her skirt; only the cuffs still held it on, the rest of it was wadded up behind her back. One tit had fallen out of her bra and I worked on that nipple like a terrier with a rat as I drove my hips into her. Her shoes had lost their purchase on the floor and she'd raised her knees to her chest, rocking her cunt up to me in offering. The sharp spikes of her heels dug into my flanks every time I bottomed out in her so hard that I made her legs twitch. That hurt, and made me fuck her all the more brutally. It was like she was a jockey, spurring me on, urging me to ride her harder, take her fast down the home stretch. But if she was like an animal below, on top she was still a lady. Her hair was a mess, strands all over her face and falling over her ears. Her eyes were closed as if she didn't want to see the whore she'd become. Her lips were parted, and trembling slightly as she whispered pleas and endearments and obscenities at me, begged me to fuck her and leave her alone at the same time. She didn't want to come. She didn't want me to see how far she'd fallen by giving in to the lewd and licentious feelings inside of her, but her body needed its animal satisfaction. I was still holding her wrists down over her heads. It was easy to lower my face and put my forehead against hers and whisper, "Come on, Stephanie, you're not fooling me. You want it. You want to come on my cock. You want to let it all out, don't you, you sweet little whore. You're just dying to come." She loves when I talk to her, loves when I call her names. She groaned now, and her brows knitted in a frown of denial at the same time her whole body jerked with another little orgasmic tremble, and that's all it took for me. I'm no sexual acrobat and not one for fuck-tricks, but this time when I started to feel my come gathering behind my balls, I pulled out of her and stumbled up so that I was kneeling over her chest with my cock twitching in my hand like a cobra ready to spit, directly over her face. I grabbed her hair with one hand and pulled her head up and she squealed with excitement as she realized what I intended to do. I jerked myself: once, twice, three times, but it was the sight of her beautiful innocent face there beneath the brutal-looking head of my cock that did it for me, and seeing my knuckles wrapped around the stalk, pumping it right over her parted lips. I jerked myself a few more times to make sure, threw my head back and howled as I felt it surge up out of me. Stephanie was beside herself. She looked up at me, she looked down at my cock. She stuck her tongue out, reaching for me, but it was too late, and the first gout of my cum blasted from my prick and hit her eyebrow, startling her and making her cry out. She'd always said she wanted to see my cock as I ejaculated and now she got her chance as I shot against her face again and again, so hard it splashed against her skin like a fire hose hitting a brick wall. She put her hands around my prick, trying to keep it still so she could get her mouth around it, but I had absolutely no control and could only kneel over her body as I gasped and shuddered and flooded her face and her fingers with my release. Libra is the reconciler. She has no problem with maintaining opposites: loving girlfriend and teasing bitch; fuzzy slippers and nylons and heels; perfect lady and ball-draining slut. It was something Stephanie had told me in our quiet times, but something I hadn't really believed. I'd needed to experience it. We left the gallery walking slowly, Stephanie leaning against me, and me holding her tight to keep her that way. We walked goofy, like new lovers, which in a way we were. I'd discovered another side to her, and one that definitely needed to be explored. Zodiac Girls Ch. 11 Ultimate Scorpio Who keeps an arrow in his bow, And if you prod, he lets it go? A fervent friend, a subtle foe- Scorpio! * * * * * Zodiac Girls: Scorpio, Jackie It was around midnight. The Owl's Nest is a great bar. I loved coming here, it was on the third story of a three story building. You almost had to know it was here in order to find this place. It sits on top of a Hooters, a McDonalds, and a funky little bar/restaurant called Belloe's. They have these really comfortable couches instead of tables. I come here every Friday night, they don't really have anything special and yet the entire place is special. They have a good kitchen, and Frank the bartender knows how I like my drinks. Several of us girls were about to leave when Fred walked in. Fred is Amy's ex-boyfriend. He spotted Amy and went straight for her. Amy is a real cuttie, she stands about five feet tall and has very elfish features. Fred is around my height. He's six feet tall. But he out weighs me by a lot. He's about 220 pounds to my little 165 ponds. Fred's mouth had started before he got to her. "Hey bitch what you doin here." Fred hissed. Fred had closed to within a foot of Amy so she would feel intimidated. And sure enough it worked she looked away and down and took a step back. "Uh, hi Fred." She stammered "Don't HI me bitch I asked you a question." Fred bellowed I'd had enough, you don't mess with my friends. As Amy looked down and took another step back I interposed myself between them. "Hey Fred, I'd ask you how it was hanging but Amy tells us it's to small to hang." Fred looked like he'd been struck. "Hey Jackie, are you dating Amy now?" "In your dreams meatball, hey I hear your so bad at oral that you couldn't get a virgin off, although a virgin would have better taste." I'd obviously confused him here. He kind of cocked his head and looked at me. He could tell by the snickers among the girls that I'd just said something nasty. "You're a bitch Jackie." Was the best he could come up with. I decided to try the straight on approach with him. "Look Fred we don't want you here, you're annoying all of us please leave." Fred clouded up like he was going to explode. "Listen up bitch!" He thundered. "I'll leave when I'm damn good and ready." "You're ready." Said a deep male voice." Fred and I both turned to look at the interruption. I was really surprised to see that this guy was bigger than Fred. He was dressed in black and had an air of confidence about him. "What do you mean I'm ready." Fred made this sound like a threat "You are creating a disturbance sir. The ladies were fine until you got here and now you've managed to ruin the mood in the entire bar. Now kindly leave or I will be forced to throw you out." The stranger spoke in a soft voice but his words really carried. Fred laughed. "You think your man enough?" The stranger smiled and replied "You'd better hope I am, because if I fail the bartender will call the police." For the first time Fred looked uncertain. The police station was roughly three hundred feet down the road. So they had a pretty good response time. Fred looked real serious and then asked. "What are you the bouncer?" "Yes sir I am." the stranger then bowed to Fred and held out his hand in the general direction of the door. Fred looked a little uncertain but he let the guy escort him to the elevator and he was gone. Amy was wide eyed and very thankful when Fred was gone. She tried to thank the guy but he just smiled. The manager had come up and Amy jumped right in and told the guy their bouncer needed a raise." The manger looked a little confused and told Amy he didn't employ a bouncer. That caught my attention and I looked our stranger over really good. Our stranger just grinned and with a little salute headed back to the bar. * * * * * We more or less decided to stay for awhile after Fred. We didn't want him to think we were sneaking out of the bar. Our happy stranger had looked us over a few times and grinned at me when I caught him looking. Amy had finally gone over and they'd been talking for several minutes. She bought him a drink and I was surprised when they didn't leave together. When they were done talking Amy headed back for me and she had a strange look on her face. "What's the matter Amy?" Amy looked up obviously in deep thought. "I don't think I've ever been turned down so nicely before." This surprised me, Amy never gets turned down by anyone, guy or girl. "What's the matter with him is he gay?" "No he told me there were two reasons he couldn't go home with me." She stated. "AND." It drove me nuts when she left me hanging like that. "Oh, sorry. He says it's obvious I just broke up with the loser he chased off and it wouldn't be fair to take advantage of me." "What's the other reason." I grated out. Amy looked over at him as she spoke. "He says he found someone tonight he's really interested in and he thinks she'll take it wrong if he goes home with me. He says he's kind of worried about offending her " I looked him over again. This was really beginning to interest me. Normally when a guy thinks he's saving you he's just trying to find a way to get you in bed. This guy had come over and while I didn't need the help he had made it easier. Then he hadn't tried anything, in fact he'd turned down a really cute blond. Not something guy's normally do. Well curiosity may kill the cat but satisfaction brought her back. I strolled over and sat down next to him, and looked him right in the eye's. I've been told I have a very penetrating stare. "So what's your story?" I asked He looked at me for a few seconds and then began to speak. "I liked the way you handled that schmuck. I came over because I didn't want him to ruin your night together with your friend." "And that's it? I was a little more sharp there than I had intended. "No, I also want to take you home and make passionate love to you." His eye's were very steady on mine and I noticed they were a wonderful shade of blue. "So why didn't you come over and talk to me?" I retorted His eye's grinned at me and somehow it carried over into his whole face. "I saw that tattoo on your back and I new you'd have to make your mind up about me before anything else." I grinned in spite of myself. I have a Yin-Yang, tattoo at the small of my back. It has a stinging scorpion and an Eagle in it. Yeah if you knew what to look for it spoke volumes about me. "By the way my name is Larry." "Hi Larry I'm Jackie." "Pleased to meet you Jackie, shall we exit this establishment before they throw us out?" I just nodded and we picked up Amy and headed for the door. I was kind of surprised that Fred wasn't waiting for us outside. Which was kind of too bad I'd been looking forward to seeing him again. Larry and I loaded Amy into her car and off she went. We then walked over to my car. We were making small talk on the way over, but I'd pretty well made up my mind. When we got to my car I looked him right in the eye and asked him point blank. "Are you kinked?" He kind of smiled "Why do you have six inch stiletto heels." "As a matter of fact yes I do." That sobered him up pretty fast. He gave me a long appraising look. "I don't think you can find anything over four inches unless you special order them." I nodded at that it was true. A fire just seemed to light in his eye's. "Red, yellow, green?" he questioned with a very open look on his face. "Very well" I replied "Kneel and present" And right there in the parking lot Larry knelt before me thighs open hands behind his back as though cuffed and lips puckered for a kiss. Oh I was going to enjoy this. Here was this huge guy big enough to bench press me one handed, kneeling at my feet. Life is good! I loved the power rush. I leaned down and grabbing the back of his hair forced his head back. I pressed my lips to his and my tongue invaded his mouth. Hmmm Tasty. I stood up and lightly kicked his leg. "Get in the car boy." "Yes ma'am he replied" I kind of liked that. Sounded better than mistress. He got into the passenger side as I climbed into the driver side. I started the car and off we went. Now I had to wait until we were out of downtown Tempe to give my next order. But I only live a few blocks away. As we got out of the immediate area that the Tempe police patrolled I looked over at him. "Strip boy, I want you naked." He glanced at me in surprise but immediately started taking off his clothing. Which for a guy his size was rather hard to do in my small car. He managed it though. By the time I was parked at my complex he was naked. I parked as far away from my apartment as I could get. The small torture's are often the most fun. I walked around the car to get a good look at him. I realized that he wasn't naked he was nude. The real difference between the two is modesty. He was proud of his body and didn't mind showing it off. I figured I'd get a better look at him inside. His penis was about three inches long currently. I walked up to him and grabbed it in a lead position, then pulling him along I headed for my apartment. As I walked I figured why not take the scenic way. We walked by the pool and there were several people swimming. That's the nice part about living close to ASU there's always something going on. We got a few jeers and catcalls as we walked by. Larry just waved. I went to my mailbox and found a stack of stuff. I thrust it in Larry's mouth. His eye's opened in surprise but he clamped his teeth and held onto it. I resumed my hold on him and found that he had grown appreciably. We turned and headed back to my apartment. Just coincidentally by the pool again. "Hands behind your head" Larry's hands flew to the back of his head and we walked by the pool with him in that position. The catcalls were louder this time. I even had a few offers for him. Nothing worthwhile though. As we got to my door I fished out my keys, and opened it. With a tug I sent Larry into my apartment adding a sharp smack to his bottom to keep him from stopping. Inside the apartment I took the mail from Larry's mouth and made him go stand in a corner while I took a shower and put on my gear. It was over an hour before I made it back to him. And just like a good little boy he hadn't moved. I grabbed him by his hair and pulled him out of the corner. I dragged him over to an ottoman and bent him over it. "Ok tough guy lets see what you've got. If you can keep from cumming for 30 seconds I'll let you spank me. If you cum I'm going to beat your balls off." I admit it I cheated, I made him spread his legs and 30 seconds into playing with him I jammed two fingers up his asshole and massaged his prostrate. Sure enough he spilled cum all over my ottoman. But hey that's why I bought it. I made him lick it clean and then stood him on his feet. As I moved around in front of him I could see his eye's bulge. As I mentioned before I'm a big girl, I stand about 6 feet tall but I only weigh about 165. It's not because I diet. I love my food, it's because I spend a couple hours at the gym each day. So I'm pretty curvy. I look good in black leather and six inch stiletto heels. And just because I know most guy's love it I had put my hair into two pigtails. Just like I'd had when I was eight. Those pigtails hung down to my shoulders and most guys could never take their eye's off them. Larry was no exception. "See something you like." "Yes Ma'am." Larry replied his eye's drinking me in. I laughed and moved around behind him to handcuff him. "Just so you won't run away." I then bent him over the ottoman again and tied him down legs open. I then got my riding crop and ass promised I beat his balls off. He took a lot more than I thought he could. I was actually getting tired before he yellowed on me. I must admit he did squirm well. Now with him still in that position I pulled out my strap on and lubed it up good with KY. Kneeling behind him I pressed the tip of my toy to his anus and then with a quick pelvic thrust I was in him. I don't think he'd ever had this happen before. He let out a great scream and then just quivered as I worked my toy back and forth in him. It surprised me when he came again. "Well" I said as I pulled out. "If your that excited you can sleep here." And I walked back to my room to clean up. I left him there for 2 hours. Just long enough that he never thought I was coming back. When I finally released him he was so glad he kissed my feet. I let him sleep at my feet the way a good dog should. And after breakfast I gave him the key's and let him go get his clothes from my car. He surprised me though by carrying his clothes back to my place before getting dressed. As I dropped him off at Hooters I took his number but didn't give him mine. I'll find when I want him.