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Climbing

By: poisoniv1



The sun peeked up over the top of the ridge as we walked along the bottom of the big granite wall. The sky was cold and blue, and my breath condensed in soft white clouds. It was still cold, but with the sun up, the day would quickly grow hot.

The granite wall was enormous, a gray slab towering straight up. I had to bend backwards to see the top. At the start of the climb, a thin crack in the face slanted up and to the right. White chalk left by old climbers outlined the crack like a scar. I ran my hand across the hard, rough rock.

I cinched my harness tight around my waist and checked my protection rack. My collection of wedges, hexes, and camlocks jangled on its web loop.

The route would be two pitches to the top, with a belay point on a big ledge halfway up.

"Ready?" I asked.

She began to uncoil the rope. "OK," she said. 

* * * 

The first time I saw her, she was naked. It was in the gray dim light just before dawn, and I made a trip down to the river to fill my water bottles. I followed the dusty path down through the rocks and low brush. Birds in the fir trees chirped like maniacs.

I came around a bend in the trail and there she was, facing away from me, standing knee deep in the river. She stood at the edge of the heavy current, and the fast-moving water swirled and sucked around her legs. She stood firmly, looking upstream. Her light blond hair was cropped evenly at shoulder length. Her bare butt was clenched defiantly.

But it was not her nakedness that struck me hardest. It was not unusual to see naked people in the river. A few hundred feet upstream was "The Tub," a deep, still pool where long-term campers often bathed, usually _au naturel_.

Instead, what struck me hardest was her bare back. The triangular shape of her upper body. Her muscular shoulders and V-shaped torso. She _looked_ like a climber.

I stood and watched for a few moments. I could not figure out what she was doing. Could she be trying to ford the river? But the current was too deep and fast, she would never make it across. Could she be bathing? But The Tub was a much superior place to get cleaned up.

She turned her head and I think she saw me. But she did not make another move. She did not even confirm my presence. She simply turned her gaze back upstream.

I turned around and went back to my campsite. 

* * * 

The "climbing rope" is misnamed. A climber always climbs rock, never the rope itself. The rope serves as emergency protection, a guard against falling. The only time the rope is used is to stop disaster.

It is the lead climber's responsibility to anchor the rope during the climb up. He does this by periodically wedging various pieces of protection into cracks in the rock, and attaching the rope through carabiners and webbing.

The lead's partner, the belayer, sits on the ground with the other end of the rope. If the lead climber falls, the belayer must hold the rope fast. A belayer must be vigilant. An unprepared belayer may have the rope yanked suddenly out of her hands.

It was my job to lead. It was her responsibility to catch me in case of a fall.

Our roles set, we prepared to climb.

I tied the rope into my harness while she tied a belay line around the thick stump of an old pine. She worked her knots quickly and easily.

She sat down on the ground and wrapped the blue braided climbing rope around her hips. The loose coils lay near her left hand, the brake hand. Her other hand, the feeling hand, held the rope that came to me. She placed her dusty climbing shoes up against two big rocks on the ground, bracing herself. She pulled up the slack in the rope until it tugged at my hips.

I coated my hands with chalk from the nylon bag tied to my waist.

"On belay?" I said, a mere formality. She was ready.

She looked me dead in the eye. "Belay on," she answered.

"Climbing," I said, and I put my foot up on the rock.

"Climb," she answered. 

* * * 

The next time I saw her was at the Safeway in town. I was buying food for the next few days and I saw her from behind, walking down an aisle. She wore cut-off shorts and a white ribbed tank top. I would recognize her shoulders anywhere.

After I bought my food, she was standing outside the store with a plastic grocery bag dangling from each hand.

"Hello," I said.

She looked at me and nodded. Her eyes were steely and her face was deeply tanned. Her lips looked a little chapped. Her white top clung tightly to her tits, and her nipple points were clearly visible.

"I think I saw you the other day, down in the stream," I said.

"Uh huh."

"Are you staying in the campground?"

"Yes."

"How long are you here for?"

She shrugged. "Until we get tired of being here. I guess."

I didn't know what else to say, and I was about to turn to leave, when she spoke up. "Do you have a car?" she asked.

"Back at the campground."

"Not here?"

"No. I rode my bicycle."

"Too bad," she said. "I could use a ride."

I looked her in the eye, and a faint smile touched her lips.

"Then how did you get here?" I asked.

She stuck up her thumb and waved it. "Hitched."

I stuffed my groceries in my bicycle panniers. I rolled my bicycle over and stood at its side. "Do you climb?" I asked.

She nodded. "Some. But nothing hard."

"Maybe we could climb sometime."

"Sure." She shifted both grocery bags into one hand. She glanced off towards the road. "Well, I need to find a ride. I got to get going."

"OK. See you."

I got up on my bike and pedaled back towards camp. 

* * * 

The first few moves up the rock were easy, simple finger jams, easy foot placements, and up the crack I went. I paused at a nice finger-wide ledge, placed a hex nut into the crack, and clipped the rope in. A good, bombproof placement for protection. This piece would hold a hard fall. I looked down. Her face was pure concentration, the rope securely held around her hips.

I looked up. The crack dwindled off to the right. Straight up, it looked like there was a big handhold. I tried to remember what I had read about the route. There should be a permanent bolt somewhere up there where things began to look impossible.

I twisted my hand into the crack, felt the security of rough granite against my fingers, brought my feet up, got tension in my legs, and pressed upwards. 

* * * 

I looked for her down at the stream every morning. But for a whole week, she was never there. I thought she had gone back to wherever she had come from.

My climbing partner then left to go back to work, and I was on my own. My first day alone I walked through the campground but found no one who was interested in climbing that day. So I practiced on the boulders around the campground and checked over my ropes and equipment.

Mid-afternoon came and it got hot. Black biting flies buzzed all around, a real nuisance. It was uncomfortably hot, and I was bored. I decided to go to the river to cool off.

And there she was again, standing in the river, water flowing around her knees. And again, she was stark naked.

For a moment, I considered turning to leave. But I did not want to leave. I wanted to stare for a moment. I wanted to look at her nakedness, her tanned, sinewy body, her pert breasts with big dark nipples, the voluptuous curve of her muscular hip. Her rounded shoulders and shapely thighs.

But I also did not want to spy. If I were intruding on a private moment, she had the right to know. Saying something would be the polite thing to do. I walked up closer to the stream. The water roared. "Hello," I called out.

She turned to look at me. She stumbled a little in the swift current but caught herself. Water splashed up to her thighs. Her whole body was deeply tanned; she apparently sunbathed nude. She had thick, blond pubic hair. She made no effort at all to cover up.

"What is it?" she yelled. I could barely hear her over the roar of the river.

"Nothing."

"What?" She cupped her hand to her ear.

"Nothing!"

"I can't hear you!"

"I said `Nothing!'"

She scrambled towards the bank. I was embarrassed. A naked woman was fighting her way through the big rocks in the streambed for the stupidest possible reason, because I didn't want her to think I was spying on her. I wanted to turn and leave her alone, but now that she was making the effort to get out of the river, I had to stay. I shifted my weight from side to side.

She got within a few yards and was close enough to hear. "What did you say?" she said.

"Nothing. I'm sorry. I just wanted to say hello."

"Oh." She ran her fingers back through her hair. Her pectoral muscle flexed, and my gaze was drawn to her naked breast. I wished she had some clothes on.

I was so uncomfortable I wanted to run away. But I had to say something. I couldn't leave it with just a hello. "What were you doing out there?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Nothing."

"I was just going to cool off in The Tub."

"Oh. OK." She looked back out into the roaring river.

I fidgeted. I had to get out of there. "See you," I said.

"Bye," she said.

And I turned away. Turning away was a relief. I didn't like standing there talking to her while she was naked. It would be easier to get in The Tub, wash off, and soak in the cold water. And maybe think about climbing. 

* * * 

The rock was not completely vertical, there were frequent dents and bumps, so the climb upwards went easily. I built up some momentum, and I was soon holding onto the knob I had seen from below. There was a good crack there; I placed a big wedge, another solid piece of protection.

I looked ahead. Two parallel cracks ran up towards a permanent bolt that had been drilled into the rock. The bolt marked the start of the most difficult part of the climb. My route book described that section above the bolt as "awkward." Other climbers had called it "a bastard."

I pinched my fingers and toes into the two vertical cracks and shimmied upwards. 

* * * 

I stripped naked and lowered myself down into the cool river water. The initial contact with the water was shocking, and it tightened my skin. But I slowly grew accustomed. It felt good to be out of the heat.

I gave myself a soap-less wash, using my flat hands to rub the grime and dust that had built up on my skin. Afterwards, my skin felt cool, clean and responsive.

I soaked shoulder-deep and felt good for a few moments. I tried to peek downstream, but I could not see her, an accumulation of stones blocked my line of sight. Which was just as well. I closed my eyes and relaxed and thought about nothing.

I concentrated on my heartbeat, the sound of it, the slow thumping. I thought I might even doze off, but I heard the scramble of feet on rocks. I opened my eyes and she was standing there on the rocky bank. My position gave me an angle up between her legs, at the wild tangle of blond pubic hair and an exciting glimpse of a fold of skin there.

"Can I join you?" she asked.

I took a nervous breath and sat up straight. "Sure."

She stepped down into the water. Like a sex-starved teenager, I peeked at her bare breasts with their stiff nipples. She sank down slowly until her chin touched the water. She blew air out and the surface of the water rippled under her breath.

She settled back against the bank and closed her eyes. She let out a long, easy sigh.

If the water had not been cold, I am sure I would have had an erection.

When I get nervous, I have a tendency to babble. I could not stop myself from saying something. "Are you here with someone?" I asked.

She opened her eyes and looked at me. Her eyes were light gray and her pupils were tiny. "Yes. My boyfriend."

"Is he a climber too?"

"Yes."

"How come you aren't climbing with him?"

She shrugged. "He has his buddies. They're stronger climbers than I am."

"Then what do you do all day?"

She did not say anything.

"How hard of a climb can you do?"

She shrugged again. "I'm good with my feet. But the climbs here, they take too much upper body strength." She raised her arm up out of the water, and the muscle of her shoulder tensed. 

* * * 

The tips of my fingers found a tiny crack, the rough rock tore at my calluses, my arms throbbed, and I could not find a spot for my foot. Everything I put down on, I slipped off. It was not working, so I stepped around, rearranged myself until I had both feet securely against the rock, but then I was pointed in the wrong direction, and my arms really ached and I had scraped the skin off both my thumb and forefinger. And there was nowhere obvious to go. I had maneuvered my way into a bind.

I could try to drop back and regroup, but I did not know if my arms would hold up. I could see a horizontal crack straight up from me, but I could not judge its size from below. And it was a long lunge. And I had no recent protection placed, and nowhere to put any now. I had clipped into the bolt below, but that was a long way down.

If I fell, how far would I go before the bolt caught me? And could she hold a hard fall?

I saw nowhere else to go. My leg began to bounce up and down like a sewing machine. I could not hold the position much longer.

I made up my mind to go for it. I did not even weigh the risk completely, and before I knew it, I drove myself upwards as hard as I could, a full leap. There was a moment where I felt suspended in air, no pressure on my hands or feet, and I was unsure of whether I was rising or falling. And when my fingertips found the crack, I felt that wonderful surge of excitement in my chest. I grabbed with my fingers and tapped every bit of strength I had and clawed into the rock.

I swung side to side for a second, dragging my toes against the rock, until I finally settled motionless, hanging by three fingers on each hand. My forearms felt stiff, but I was out of immediate trouble. The crack was bigger and deeper than it had looked from below, nearly an inch of space to hold. I got a good hold with one hand, rechalked and got a good secure grip.

I pulled myself up and got my toes into the crack. My heart pounded in my ears. My whole body trembled. 

* * * 

"I think I do OK on a lot of climbs. Especially ones that aren't so popular. And I've done some mountaineering and glacier travel. But I haven't done much technical rock climbing. I'm kind of new to this."

"I would think you would do well."

"I hate this place. All the silly overhangs. It's all a test of upper body strength. You don't need technique. You need raw muscle strength."

It was true. Many of the climbs were famous for their overhang moves.

She slipped down into the water until her head was completely submerged. Then back up she came, and she wiped her hands across her face, flicking the water away and slicking her hair back. I couldn't help but notice the contraction of her biceps and her deltoids. And the flex of her pectorals, and then I caught myself again staring at her breasts through the water. 

* * * 

I made it the rest of the way to the big ledge without incident. There were several big cracks around, perfect for belay anchors. I dropped my protection rack, set several strong anchors, tied myself in, and sat down.

Now it was her turn to climb. From the ledge I could see most of the route below, so I could watch her. I pulled up the slack in the rope.

Her high voice filtered up. "On belay!"

"Belay on!" I yelled back. I set myself to handle the rope.

"Climbing!" she yelled.

"Climb!" 

* * * 

I shook out of my staring stupor. I caught her eye, and she smiled at me. Was she flirting? I am sure I blushed.

The urge to say something overtook me. "Why don't you come climbing with me?" I said. "My climbing partner is gone, I could use another partner."

"I've never done a lead. Don't you want to climb with someone you can split the leads with?"

"You don't know how to place protection?"

"I've never done it before."

"That's OK. I can do all the leads."

"And I can't do hard climbs."

"I'm sure you can do _some_ hard climbs."

"I don't want to slow you down."

"If you don't climb with me, I'll just have to go bouldering around the campsite."

"I could go bouldering with you."

"Wouldn't you rather do some real climbs?"

"I know the boulders around here pretty well." She suddenly stood up and got out of the water. Again, I was aware of her nakedness and I blushed. "Come on," she said, "I'll show you something."

I hesitated. She stood at the bank and looked down at me. Her tanned body dripped cold river water. I did not have an erection, but I was afraid I might get one. I took a deep breath and stood up.

She grabbed our towels and took off downstream. She hopped from rock to rock, her arms out for balance, a towel in each hand, her bare butt flexing.

She was lovely. I took another deep breath. There was no one else around. I left my clothes behind and took off after her. 

* * * 

She climbed like a dancer, limberly and with rhythm, using her legs and feet to get out of trouble. She could raise her foot to shoulder height and still get leverage to push up. At the most difficult point, the part where I struggled hardest, she found a foothold I had not seen, and made the finger ledge in two separate moves.

She moved evenly upwards, pausing only to remove the protection. When she reached the ledge, she was winded and her shoulders and thighs bulged.

"That was great," I said.

She sucked in air. "Thanks."

"I didn't see that foothold down there."

"Uh huh."

"Do you want to rest for a minute?"

"Yeah."

The ledge at the halfway point was big enough for a crowd of people. We drank water and ate bananas. We rested in direct morning sun, and it was already getting hot.

The second pitch was supposed to be easier. There was a spectacular overhang near the top with a shoulder-width crack through it. I scouted the route while she rested.

I figured out the approximate path to take, and just as I turned back to face her, she pulled her shirt up over her head. Underneath she was naked. Her whole upper body was wet with sweat. She used her shirt to mop her face and chest.

"You're not very shy, are you?" I said.

"Hmm," she grinned. "Do you mind?"

"Oh, no!"

"I didn't think so." She looked down at her own breasts, and wiped her shirt across them. "I'm not uptight about it. I don't have the kind of tits men ogle." 

* * * 

We walked downstream until we reached a big boulder. The boulder was about ten feet high with a nice crack running up one face. It was a nice example of a layback move, an elementary technique, but one beginners have a hard time with.

I had never seen this boulder before. It never occurred to me to look for bouldering exercises down by the river. The crack was not coated with the usual accumulation of climber chalk, so I was not the only one who was unaware of its existence.

"Spot me," she said.

She hooked her fingers into the crack and stepped her bare feet up on the vertical surface of the rock. In a layback, you use your legs to push your body _away_ from the rock, and you use your arms to counter-balance the outward force. When done right, the inward force from your arms exactly matches the outward force from your legs.

I stood under her, looking up at her bare back and bottom, and she quickly scooted right on up the crack to the top. Her technique was flawless.

"Throw me the towels."

I tossed up the towels and clawed my way into the crack. It was a nice exercise, but I felt funny doing it naked. I had never tried to climb barefoot before, and my penis felt awkward swinging freely between my legs. Still, it took only a few seconds to join her on top.

The rock was flat on top, with just enough room for two people to lie down. She had the towels spread out. She sat with her legs curled under her, her hip thrust to the side. Her skin was already dry, and sweat beaded on her forehead and cheeks. She patted the towel. "Lie down with me."


Climbing



We lay down on our bellies, side by side. The hot sun beat on my back and my thighs and my butt. We turned our heads so we could look at each other. She was very close. She smiled.

"You're good," I said. "Go climbing with me tomorrow."

"But I'm not very strong."

"You're strong enough," I said.

"I try. I workout. There's a place down the street from my job that has a climbing wall."

"You could do most of the climbs around here."

"But I do six pull-ups and I'm exhausted. And my neck aches for a week afterwards."

"I think you can do it."

"Easy for you to say." She rolled up and, with both hands, she grabbed the thick muscle at my side. I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Look at these lats. Twice as big as mine."

She let go of my side, but my heart raced from her brief touch. It had not been a shy touch. I thought it might mean something, something sexual. I searched her face for a meaning. Her eyes darted.

I almost forgot I was trying to convince her to go climbing with me. I needed to continue the argument. She had said something about the merits of muscle size. "But you weigh less," I said, "you don't need to be as strong."

She harumphed. "So how many pull-ups can you do? Twenty? Thirty?"

"There is a lot more to climbing than pull-ups."

"No kidding. That's why I don't like it here. It's like a giant chin-up bar."

"Why on Earth would you practice and workout and then not go climbing?"

She sat silently, her forehead furrowed.

"If you get in trouble, you could just rappel down."

She did not say anything.

"Come on. I need a partner."

She did not say anything.

"You can belay, can't you?"

"OK," she said, slowly. "I'll climb with you." 

* * * 

I got ready to lead the second pitch. She put her shirt back on and got herself into a good belay position. My hands were dry, my arms and legs felt strong. She checked over the rope one last time. 

* * * 

"You never did tell me what you do all day."

"Mostly I go bouldering and I hike all the trails. And I like to lie in the sun."

"By yourself?"

"I don't mind being by myself."

"Why don't you go with your boyfriend? You should be out climbing."

"He gets mad at me if I can't do something. It's just a lot easier if he goes with people who are as good as he is."

"Is that why you came here? To wander around the campground by yourself?"

"Oh," she groaned, "I don't know why I came here. Look," she said forcefully, "let's not talk about my boyfriend." 

* * * 

The second pitch was easy. The rock was near vertical, but there were big horizontal cracks and shelves at convenient intervals. It was a simple series of reaches and pull-ups and mantel moves. I got a good pump going in my arms and shoulders and back. 

* * * 

She curled up into a sitting position at my side. "Give me your hand."

I felt nervous. I rolled up to face her, my penis, now exposed, hung down across the top of my thigh, and I gave her my right hand. She held it in both hands, close to her face. She studied my hand closely, flipping it over once, then back. She ran her fingers along my thick calluses. Her fingernails were trimmed neat and short. "You climb a lot," she said.

"During the winter," I said. "I work all summer."

She rubbed the heel of my hand with her thumbs, and then she kissed my palm. My cock began to stiffen, and I shifted uneasily. She noticed. "Don't be ashamed," she said. "It's a natural body function."

I breathed deeply and she traced the outlines of my fingers. My cock hardened.

She looked me in the eye and drew my hand to her sternum.

"Touch me," she whispered. 

* * * 

When I got to the overhang, I felt good and strong, so I decided to try something showy. The wide chimney up through the overhang was the obvious path. But this spot on this route was famous for an easy, but spectacular move. There was a big hand-sized hole on the top side of the overhang, one you could grab and hold forever if you wanted to. The trick was to reach around the lip of the overhang, grab hold, and swing out into open space until your feet dangled freely. While you hang from one hand, the spectators ooh and ahh. A simple pull-up and you are past the overhang.

A crack on the underside was a place to hold onto while I leaned away from rock. I reached around the lip of the overhang and fished blindly for the hole. I found it right away, got four fingers into it. It was as secure a hold as you ever find.

I carefully let loose of the crack with my left hand and swung out until I hung in mid air. I chalked my free hand, moving slowly to avoid swinging, and reached up and stuffed both hands into the hole. It was a simple matter to pull myself up to the edge, hook my heel over the top, and pull myself up onto solid rock. 

* * * 

She lay back and closed her eyes. My hand trembled as I placed it over her face. I was afraid my calluses would be rough, or that I had lost sensation in my fingertips. So I touched her as lightly as I could, the softest possible touches skimming her forehead, and down, over her closed, twitching eyelids, down her nose, and across her lips. She swallowed. I feathered across her lips and they parted, and I felt her breath on my fingers. My hand traveled down around her chin to her neck, and the muscle in her neck jerked and tensed, then slowly relaxed.

I felt clumsy. My thick fingers were more attuned to granite walls than to a woman's body. And so I imagined her body was a rock, and I slid lightly across her skin, searching out hollows and bumps and creases. I found comfort in her collarbones, behind her knees, the upper slope of her breast, underneath in the cleft of her butt. I hooked a finger in her navel and she laughed.

I touched her and I explored her. Sparse wispy white hairs grew all over her legs. And a small blond tuft under each arm. A long, smooth scar on her forearm. Firm muscles in her calves and thighs. She stank of her briny sweat.

Her thick, crinkled nipple perked up in the branch of my thumb and forefinger. She groaned and stretched out and my cock jerked up straight. 

* * * 

The top of the overhang was like a platform to stand on. The climb was practically over. I placed one last piece of protection and scooted up over the final edge.

I was on top! 

* * * 

She lay back and spread her legs and her crotch was all plastered with wet and hair. She ran her hand up and down the inside of her thigh, and her pussy opened up, showing off the crimson inside.

I crawled up between her thighs. I ran my hands over the inside of her legs and she sighed. Her hands landed on my hips, and she pulled around and grabbed my ass. I came up closer and we kissed.

I swiped my hand across her pussy, felt the steamy heat, and rubbed her until she groaned deep in her throat.

I dragged my hands up over her ribs, she let out a gasp and her breath quickened. I could feel the deep beat of her heart. Her eyes glazed over and her tongue slipped out over her lips, leaving them wet. I kissed her, her mouth opened and our tongues slithered together. My stiff cock poked her belly. She kneaded my butt with both hands.

I took hold of my erection and guided it downward. She reached between her legs and held herself open like a split-open fruit. I penetrated slowly, and she groaned and moved her legs up and her heels rested on my lower back. Her pussy felt warm and thick. 

* * * 

I could not see her climb the second pitch. The overhang blocked the view down, and my belay anchor was away from the edge. I had to handle the rope by feel.

And this time she climbed very slowly.

She was shorter than I was, and she had an obsessive concern about her arm strength. So the second pitch, while not technically difficult, would likely be a lot of work for her. I did not think it would be too hard, though.

But it went slower than I guessed. She did not move fluidly, she stopped frequently, she never got a rhythm going. It was like she would get to each horizontal crack and stop.

And then there was a long pause. The rope vibrated taut between my hand and the edge, but there was no motion. I held for a long time. I listened for any sound but could not hear a thing.

"Are you OK?" I yelled down.

"Yeah," she yelled back.

"Do you need help?"

"No. I just need to rest a little. I'm real tired."

"Do you want to rappel down?"

"I'm fine. Just give me a minute."

After a few more minutes, the rope slackened. She was moving again. 

* * * 

She clutched my shoulders and pulled herself up until her nose nearly touched mine. She was so close I could barely focus on her face. Her eyes shone blue with pinpoint pupils. Her moist breath tickled my lips. I thrust faster and deeper. Our bodies slapped together.

She rocked her hips strongly, long upward swings with my every downward thrust. Her breathing turned shallower and our noses bumped.

She let go of my arms, set her shoulders on the ground, and humped back hard. She used her fingers, loosely separated, and brushed them back and forth over her clitoris. She whimpered and her jaw dropped open, her eyes fluttered closed, and a tremble overtook her.

All of a sudden I felt my own pressure rise.

"I think I'm coming," I grimaced.

I pulled out and placed my shiny trembling cock on her belly. She reached out and fingered the head, and her touch set me off, my cock expanded out and spat its thick semen, depositing it more or less into the cup of her navel. 

* * * 

I felt her struggle in the tension and slack of the rope. It is an odd way to feel somebody, through a rope. You can not see a thing, and you make up images based on the subtle pulls and slackenings. If the rope moves easily you imagine a smile. If the rope vibrates with tension, you imagine a grimace and a wrinkled brow.

Her rope moved by inches. At times I wondered if it moved at all. I would pull another inch up, and I would wonder if I had simply pulled out an inch of slack between us. But slowly, ever so slowly, I added loop after loop to the coil at my left.

As she got closer to the top, I heard her. She did not say words - she made low animal noises. A growl and a curse and I pulled another six inches of rope through my hands. The scrape of feet on rock. A whimper. And then a long extended groan, and an exhilarating two feet of rope. A pause and another inch. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck." And another three inches. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck." And another two inches. And then, out of nowhere, a whole foot.

And then the long pause. I could hear her breathing. I looked at the coil of rope that had already pulled through my hands. She should be near the top. Perhaps stopped in the shade beneath the big overhang.

"I can't do this," she said.

"Sure you can."

"My arms aren't long enough. I can't do the reach around this overhang."

All of a sudden, I knew I had made a mistake. I should not have made the fancy overhang move. I should have taken the easier route through the chimney. If she could not follow my route, she would need to traverse to the big crack, work her way up, then traverse back to pick up the protection. Traverses can be dangerous business. When protection is not straight above you, if you fall, you pendulum across. And it is not easy to hold a swinging body. If I remembered right, this particular traverse could be tricky. Not an easy section for a tired climber.

I set myself hard, braced my feet, and tried to remember if I had set a solid belay line. Fortunately, I am usually very careful about that.

"Traverse to the chimney," I said.

I heard her mutter. "Fucking son-of-a-bitch I'm going to fucking kill myself." 

* * * 

We froze for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. Her face glistened with sweat. Her lower lip trembled, curling under, and for moment I thought she would cry. But she let out a long ragged breath, kissed me, and sat up.

She dropped down off the rock and quickly washed off in the cold river water. She scrambled back up and we settled down next to each other, on our sides, face to face. I felt like I should say something, but I couldn't think of anything to say.

Finally, I patted the towel. "Lie down," I said. She grinned and rolled onto her belly. 

* * * 

I had to let out rope while she traversed towards the chimney, giving up all those precious inches that had been so hard to come by. My muscles tensed up. I felt the rope for the slightest change.

There was a loud scrape of feet against the rock.

"Falling!" she screamed.

I felt a rush of panic. I grabbed the rope tight, whipped my brake hand across my body and tensed my legs for holding a fall.

The rope slowly tightened. She was not free falling. She was slipping slowly downwards. I held on, but there was no sudden jerk, just an increasing tension on the rope.

And then just the light, constant tension. I held for what seemed like a full minute. Was I holding her weight? I did not think so, she had caught herself. I imagined her toes pressed against a small bump in the rock, her fingers clutching hairline cracks, her chest and cheek pressed against the rock face.

"Slack!" came a muffled yell.

Gingerly, I let out some rope, and it went slack. I exhaled. She had found a secure spot. 

* * * 

I moved her hair away from her neck. The entirety of her naked back was there for me. I reached out and placed my hands on her.

I massaged her back muscles, searching each one out individually. The firm deltoids around her shoulders, the big fan-shaped trapezius below her neck, the ripple of teres major and infraspinatus, the latissimus dorsi covering her ribs, the erector spinae along her backbone. And her round and firm gluteus maximus.

She moaned as I drew my hands down her back to her waist. My hands could span the entire width of her lower back, my thumbs over her spine, the fingers flaring out to press into the lower back muscle. And back up, over her shoulders, around to her arms, then drawing back down her lats. "Look at these lats," I teased, and I grabbed her. She jerked and giggled. "That tickles." 

* * * 

She came up over the edge dripping sweat. The veins in her biceps bulged against her skin.

For a moment she remained poised there, on her hands and on the balls of her feet, panting heavily, tensed like a bobcat. Her blue-gray eyes shimmered like the heat rising off hot pavement. Her pupils were dark and dilated.

And then she vaulted forward on top of me. Her shoulder hit my chest with a thud, and the force of her threw me back on the ground. Her mouth was near my ear. "Off belay," she whispered, and then her wet tongue filled my ear. Her body trembled all over. 

* * * 

I rubbed her back and ass and legs.

"We don't really have that much in common," she said.

"Who?"

"My boyfriend and me."

It looked like we were going to talk after all. "You don't think so?"

"Not much."

"You must have something in common. Why did you get together?"

"I guess because he excited me. He was an adventurer, and he had lots of good stories. He can be fun to be around."

"But not any more?"

"I guess the stories get old after a while. And I think he's bored of me."

"Really?"

"We never have spent much time together. We don't live together, so we sometimes don't even see each other for a week or so. Before this trip, I couldn't tell you the last time we spent the night. And even here, we sleep in the same tent, but he doesn't usually come to bed until after I'm asleep."

"It doesn't sound like much of a relationship. If you don't mind my saying it."

"No," she sighed, "it doesn't seem like much of a relationship."

I was tempted to ask her what about me, but she sighed heavily. I felt her muscles relax under my hands. 

* * * 

We struggled with the knots and buckles of climbing paraphernalia. I got my harness off, pulled off my shirt as she wiggled around on top of me. Her fingers were still uncoordinated from the exertion of the climb, and she had a hard time loosening her end of the rope.

She stepped off me to get her harness off. I threw off my shorts, not even bothering to take off my climbing shoes. My cock jutted freely, and she gave up struggling with her clothes, dropped down and grabbed my cock with both hands. I grabbed her breasts through her shirt and squeezed her swollen nipples. She kissed me and she stroked my thick erection.

She sank down onto my lap, trapping my cock between her thighs, and I rolled upwards and we hugged each other close. We kissed hungrily, wet, full-mouthed kisses, our arms crushing us together. I wanted to squeeze the air out of her. She grunted and squeezed me back, and our mouths sucked.

I needed oxygen, I let go, broke the kiss, and I lay back on the ground. She looked down at me from above, smiling, her lungs heaving. She yanked her shirt up over her head, showing me her pretty little tits. I arched back up and buried my face in the shallow valley between her breasts, and I licked the salty skin there, then up and across to suck up the nipple. She groaned and held my head to her peaked nipple and I grabbed her other breast with my callused hand.

She groped me, pinching my nipples, stroking over abdominals and pectorals. I untied the drawstring on her climbing pants and she was naked underneath. My hand searched its way between her legs. Her pussy was hot and humid. 

* * * 

"Sometimes I get so frustrated. I asked him once, `When are we going to fuck?'" She sighed and shook her head. "And he yelled at me. `I don't want to hear you use that kind of language ever again!' He was so mad, I was afraid he was going to hit me." 

* * * 

She pressed me down onto my back and straddled my thighs. She grabbed my cock and held it straight up, pointing it at the sweaty tangle of blond hair between her legs. She lowered herself down with a sigh. Her hot pussy enveloped me.

Her hips revolved slowly, holding my huge erection deep inside her, and she let loose a burst of giggles. The corded muscles in her thighs jerked and twitched. I ran my hands up and down her legs and up over her pelvis to her ribs and up on her breasts. Her legs tensed and strained.

She humped up and down and I squeezed one of her little tits and used my other hand on her pussy, pressing my thumb against her clit.

Faster, she bucked up and down, quick jerky thrusts. Her upper chest flushed pink, sweat trickled down her tanned belly. I reached up and put my hands over her face and she groaned, and she sucked my thumb in her mouth and I fingered her sensitive lips. Her hips bucked, my cock swelled. I drew my hands down her neck across the hot skin of her chest, pinching up her nipples. 

* * * 

"I think he might be cheating on me."

"Really?"

"Maybe."

"Why do you think that?"

"I don't know. I just think so sometimes. But it isn't the cheating part that bothers me. The thing I hate most is that he takes me for granted." 

* * * 

She threw her head back and let out an enormous whoop. Her voice echoed against the granite cliffs. My cock twitched and gushed and filled her pussy with seed. She tossed her head back and forth, her golden hair, damp with perspiration, swirled about her face.

And we were motionless. My cock shrank within the confines of her sloppy pussy; her hands pressed down against my shoulders. She looked down at me from above, and a drop of sweat fell off her chin and splashed against my neck.

We breathed hard and stared at each other. A smile came to her lips, and she threw her head back and laughed.

She pulled forward, my cock drooped out, and she laughed again. She leaned down and kissed me. She tasted of salt. I put my arms around her, squeezed her close, felt her cool slick body against me. I could hold her forever.

But she would have none of that. She stood up and my arms slipped away. She stood and looked down at me, smiling wide. She turned and bounced a few steps away and she laughed, her sweaty body shining in the late-morning sun. I sat up and watched as she strode naked and confident to the edge of the cliff and looked out over the valley below. And she threw her head back and yelled out at the top of her lungs:




Climbing



"I _did_ it!"

Her voice echoed in the valley.

"I got _fucked!_"

She whooped loud and threw her fists in the air. Her back muscles pumped up. "_I did it!_" 

* * * 

She and her boyfriend left one day later.

I only saw her one other time, more than a year later, at Yosemite. It was early morning, and I was exploring the area around the campsites. I followed a path down towards the river, came around a big boulder, and there she was.

She stood hip-deep in the river, naked, surrounded by strongly swirling water. Her hair was longer, down to mid-back, but I recognized the triangular shape of her back. The river flowed so forcefully she had to lean forward against the current to keep from being swept downstream.

"Hey!" I yelled.

She looked at me and her face lit up with recognition. A smile bloomed and she yelled, "Hey!" And she dunked her head completely under the water, her entire self submerged in the roaring cauldron of foam and for a moment I panicked, I thought the river had taken her. But then she burst back up and she lunged towards the bank.

She bounded out of the water and let out a whoop. Her whole naked body was covered with goose bumps. "I can't believe it's you!" she said. She ran towards me and jumped against me and hugged me. Her cold, wet body was a shock. And she laughed and stepped away. "I am here on my honeymoon," she said. "I can't wait to introduce you to my husband. I think you'll like him."

She dried off while I watched awkwardly, and she put on a long shirt. She held my hand and led me back to her campsite.

And she introduced me to her husband. And he was a very nice guy indeed.



Climbing



We started out long before the sun was up. We planned to hit the summit by mid-day and be back in camp in the early evening. So far things were moving according to plan. The sun had come up about an hour ago and the East Face was warming quickly, which was a very good thing. My hands were having a hard time on the cold rock. The climbing wasn't particularly difficult but I was beginning to feel the altitude as we pushed past 12,000' and onto the ridge. The views are amazing, and quite intimidating. The drop on one side of the ridge is 600' straight down. The other side a massive 2,000' to fall before the couloir starts. The three of us scrambled along the ridge, occasionally using the rope to belay each other across the areas with particularly extreme exposure. I focused on my feet and hand placements and tried not to look down.

Tim and Michael had known each other for years. They had climbed all over and were far more serious about the sport than I. They would spend hours in the climbing gym working on various boulder problems. I was just getting back into climbing after a break for several years for other pursuits and was lacking a belay partner to hold the rope while I climbed. Tim and Michael were gracious enough to let me join them. I never liked climbing in the gym, however and had been pushing to get them outdoors for some time. Both climbers were tall with a wiry athleticism that understated their strength. Both were in great shape. While my rock climbing skills were weaker, I had considerably more mountaineering experience, and was glad to be climbing with the sun shining on my back as we headed for the summit.

We hit the top at 12:30, signed the register and sat eating a little lunch and enjoying the view. It had been a great climb and we were all a little euphoric due to the physical exertion spent getting to the summit and the high altitude. After 45 minutes we began the long decent back down. Although we could see our camp in the valley 5,000' below the summit, it would take nearly 4 hours to get back. There was the ridge, two rappels and a long stretch of broken talus through the couloir that would prove to be much more frustrating than it looked.

By the time we made it back to the valley we were really beat. Our tents were in a picturesque meadow not more than 100 yards from a pristine alpine lake. The air was calm and crisp, the water was like glass and reflected the cirque of the mountain above us. The only ones in the valley were the three of us and the girls. Tim's girlfriend, Andrea, and a friend of hers, Lisa, made the trip and were waiting for our return by the lake. Andrea is a strong climber in her own right but with Lisa there, the two had planned to do some more moderate hiking while we hit the summit. 

The five of us hiked up to the lake the day before arriving shortly before nightfall. The hike in was strenuous and Tim, Michael and I had wanted to get some sleep to make our 4:00 am wakeup. Because of our early wakeup the girls slept in Tim's tent while Michael and Tim slept in Michael's. Although the tent can sleep three adequately, I opted to sleep out in the open in the meadow that first night. The sky was clear and the stars were brilliant, even if it was a little cold. 

"We made it", Tim said with a big smile on his face as we strolled back into camp. He tossed his daypack on the ground. Andrea came over and gave him a kiss. 

"Hungry?" she asked.

Michael had put himself in charge of the food and was already putting together quite a spread. I found a nearby rock and took a seat. 

"How come you never cook for Tim and I at home?" Andrea teased. Michael was totally focused and ignored her.

We had a wonderful meal as the sun set behind the mountain. After dinner, I broke out the cognac I had packed in but was totally outdone by the girls. To everyone's surprise, Lisa and Andrea had conspired to bring some pot and passed around a very large joint. We sat there, blissfully high, a little drunk, in an incredible setting watching the stars come out. 

"We're going to go crash", Tim broke the silence. "No, we're going to go fuck", Andrea said with a big grin, and with that she grabbed Tim by the hand and pulled him off to the tent.

"Well", I said with a smile unsure what to say to that. Both Michael and Lisa grinned in agreement as we watched them go. I took another hit of the joint. The dynamic was kind of interesting. Lisa is very attractive and very flirtatious. I had met her once before at a party of Tim's. Apparently she and Michael had some history, but I didn't know any of the details. There didn't seem to be any tension, but I knew that they weren't together. The stars were getting brighter as the last of the sunlight vanished far off in the west. I couldn't help but wish that Michael wasn't there, or that he had brought another girl so I could see if anything could happen between Lisa and me. I really didn't feel comfortable pursuing anything with him there. 

"Thanks for taking us out here", Lisa said to me as she passed the bottle of cognac to Michael. "It's a beautiful spot". Michael nodded in agreement and took another sip. I asked Lisa about her hike. They had found a number of lakes strung together a few miles up the valley. 

"Did you get any swimming in?"

"Of course," Lisa answered Michael's query. Her grin was a little too big.

"What else did you two do out there?"

Clearly Michael knew something was up.

"Well", Lisa laughed and looked away shyly. 

"Oh you did!"

Between the alcohol and the pot, my head was spinning a little, but it was apparent something had happened between Andrea and Lisa, and I was very curious to know more.

Apparently so was Michael. 

"Let's see, you were both naked after going for a quick swim and Andrea just couldn't help herself and you couldn't say no."

Lisa explained what had happened. And Michael's hypothesis was not far off. After laughing at my confused and shocked expression, the two explained that Andrea is bisexual and that she has had intimate relations with Lisa from time to time.

If I was turned on earlier (and jealous) thinking about Andrea and Tim in seclusion in their tent, I was really turned on now. I had no idea. We laughed some more and watched a few shooting stars go by. 

Michael got up and headed off to the wood to go pee. 

I looked over at Lisa and she smiled. Maybe it was the pot, or the alcohol, or maybe I was just too worked up thinking about the fun Andrea and Lisa had earlier but I leaned toward her. She met me half way and we kissed. We kissed hard. It didn't just start off slowly, we went right into it. A deep passionate kiss. Her mouth tasted so good. Her lips so soft and strong. Her tongue was delicious. We heard Michael approaching, but it didn't matter, we just kept at it unable to separate ourselves.

"Oh no" Michael exclaimed and then laughed. "I'm gonna get left out. The dreaded 5th wheel!"

Lisa and I parted. She smiled and looked up at him. She glanced back at me and then back to Michael and opened her arms.

"Come here," she said.

Michael got down on his knees to her level and gave her a hug. She smiled at me over his shoulder as she hugged him.

And then she kissed him on the mouth. Hard. I didn't have time to even be surprised by their kiss. What shocked me was her hand which had moved over to my lap and grasped firmly at my crotch. There was no question what she wanted.

I was so turned on. Michael took off her shirt and I undid her pants. She had managed to unbutton my pants with her one hand and she now held my rapidly hardening cock beneath my shorts. Her touch on my skin was delightful. I kissed her sex through her panties as I removed her pants. We managed to have her totally stripped by the time we had staggered to the tent. Michael and I tossed her inside, removed most of our clothes and followed her into our lair.

The three down sleeping bags were spread out over the floor of the tent. Add a few down jackets and the tent was quite luxurious. Lisa lied in the middle on the floor of the tent. Her legs lie slightly apart with my fingers playing with her very wet pussy. In her hand she held Michael's cock and was stroking it, pulling it closer to her lips. I kissed her again before she took it into her mouth. Michael let out a moan in pleasure. With that I went down on Lisa in earnest, kissing the lips of her swollen pussy, sucking firmly on her clit, inserting my tongue deep into her. 

I was a little shocked when Michael took down my shorts and started stroking my cock and touching my balls. Lisa watched with rapt attention. Her hand moved down to her sex and she began touching herself as she watched. Michael took me into his mouth. Lisa came over and decided she needed some too. The two took turns passing it back and forth while I basked in the attention. 

Everything was a sex induced euphoric blur. I sucked on Lisa's breasts and stroked Michael's cock. It was exciting feeling another guy's erection, and I fed on the aroused look Lisa gave me as I held him in my hand. Lisa took me in her mouth again before getting down on all fours in front of me. Still holding my erection, she guided me inside her from behind. Michael slid down underneath us and his tongue alternated between her clit and my balls as I fucked her from behind. It felt so good. Lisa went crazy with the feeling of my cock filling her up from behind while that tongue daftly moved over her clit. She came with a shudder and scream. 

I lost count of her orgasms. Hell, I lost count of my own. We fucked for hours. The three of us lost all inhibition and had a great time. Totally spent, we slept in until it was too hot to stay in the tent any longer. Michael made breakfast, and we all went for a swim in the Lake.



Climbing



It was Monday morning, late enough for the sun to be peaking over the ridge into the valley, and we were rock climbing at the summit. He did not work on Monday mornings, and I had avoided morning classes this semester, making our Monday rendezvous was perfect. They had started a month earlier, when I responded to his online advertisement looking for an activity partner. We met for coffee, twice, then breakfast. Finally we had decided that we both wanted to actually be active, and the next week we went bouldering. 

I was a novice climber, but my body was strong. I had a lot of upper-body strength for a girl, and impeccable balance that assisted me when the weight of my body was too much to haul up the rock. He, on the other hand, was an expert. I could tell that he had been enjoying this sport since puberty, and had groomed his body into it. He was not tall, perhaps 5'10", but his grace on the rock, and sinewy strength made him appear to tower over me. 

We spent the morning hiking to different rock formations. I watched as he danced over the rock, finding imperceptible cracks with his fingertips, clinging to the rock like a spider. After he completed a problem he would help me choose a route more to my ability than the one he had taken, and inevitably, after a few tries and much coaching, I would complete the problem as well. By mid-morning I was feeling exuberant. There was sunshine, a friendly man who is an absolute pleasure to watch in motion, and a series of new achievements. There was not much more that I could imagine wanting, except maybe a shot of wheatgrass. 

Around 11 I began to tire, and it must have been obvious, because he asked if I would like to stop and grab some lunch before I had to go to my afternoon classes. I was having such a good time though that I declined. It would not matter if I was exhausted for one day of classes, and I knew the soreness in my body would feel good the next day. He seemed quite pleased by my determination to continue, and a faint smile played around his lips. His fierce blue eyes twinkled just a bit and I could not help but smile back at him. He had a way of making me feel spectacular about myself. 

I am certain that he set the next problem up to kick my ass. It was a difficult climb that relied heavily on strength, but also demanded a certain amount of flow, twisting the body around at the peak of a move in order to reach the final handhold. It was much more difficult than the routes I had been attempting, but thanks to my friend's confidence in me, I had a definite belief that it was possible. 

My first two attempts were poor, to say the least. I barely got a foot off the ground, and could not figure out where my right hand should even begin. Both times I came off the rock without grace, landing in his waiting arms. He was an excellent spotter, consistently reaching for my hips and guiding my body smoothly to the ground. I had not stumbled once all day. I think that perhaps it was his active spotting that gave me the confidence to try some of the more difficult moves that I had been unsuccessful at before. I always knew he would catch me if I fell. 

After I tried twice he gave me a couple of pointers. Pressing his body close to mine he lined his legs up with mine and interlaced our fingers. He stretched his right toe far out to the side, my leg resting on his, and reached our right hands up, leaning the weight of our bodies away from them. I felt myself relax into him, feeling his hand stretch my arm out, feeling weightless as I counterbalanced his strength. He smelled of sweat and sunshine, and that was not at all a bad way for him to smell. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation. 

"That's how it should feel," he told me. I murmured my agreement, and then tried to replicate the sensation on the rock. He was a good teacher. It was much easier than I had thought it would be, and almost felt natural. I heard him cheer me on as I quickly traversed the slight ledge I had found with my extended toe. His breath was excited and his joy at my achievement genuine. He was going to be an excellent climbing partner. 

A few moves later I fell back off the rock. The fall was unexpected, and if it were not for his spotting, my position would have landed me on my back. As it was his hands found my back and up righted me, causing my feet to hit the ground first. His hands slid around my body to take some of the shock of the impact, and I felt his fingers brush the underside of my breast. I was certain his touch was accidental, and confident in my certainty when he blushed a bit and apologized for the inappropriate placement of his hands. 

"It's okay," I told him, "Better your hands on my body than my body on the ground." We both laughed at this and I decided to attempt the problem once more. 

I fell off in the same place, and again his hands wrapped all the way around my body as I fell. This time they covered my breasts, and I was almost certain I felt one pinch at my nipple, but that could have been the impact from falling jostling my breast. 

"I'm sorry," he said again, but this time he was still standing behind me, and had only moved his hand to just beneath my breast, not letting me go. I laughed. 

"You don't have to be." It's inevitable that two attractive adults are going to eventually dabble in physical flirtation. I was beginning to wonder how far I wanted this to go. 

"Don't I?" 

"I'm not." 

It was all the permission he needed. He spun me around and grabbed my ponytail in his left hand, yanking my head back just enough to put tension in my neck. With his right hand he lifted up my shirt, revealing my breast, and began to knead at it. His blue eyes were staring intently at me, hungry. 

"You have no idea how long I have wanted to do this," he breathed, his voice husky, his hand slow and in time with his words, accenting them with sharp pulls and pinches. "Looking at you across the table, listening to you talk. I couldn't take my eyes off of them. All I could think about was touching them, tasting them." With this he put his mouth to my nipple, which was now hard from his teasing, and sucked it between his lips. My neck was beginning to hurt and my body was bending back to compensate, offering him greater access to my breast. I can't say that I liked what he was doing. It was too rough, too fast, but his tongue was talented and I could not help but let out a little moan. 

"You like that?" I moaned again. "Tell me that you like it." Another little moan. He pulled sharply on my hair, causing my neck to snap back and me to yelp in pain. "I said tell me that you fucking like it." 

"Mmm," I gasped, tears coming to my eyes, "I like it. I like when you suck my nipple." 

By now he had freed both of my breasts from my bra and was alternating his attention between the two. Just when one got sore he would switch to the other, giving each enough rest to stimulate blood flow, but not enough to relieve the pain of his touch. 

His mouth still on my nipple he ran his right hand down the side of my body to my hip, and pushed me back, hard, into the rock I had been climbing. I felt its grain cutting into my skin. The surface felt incredibly sharp against my exposed back and I briefly wondered how I had not been able to find toeholds on it. His hand did not return to my breast, and his mouth left them as well, seeking out the sensitive hollow of my neck. He was pressing me into the rock with his body weight, and I could feel his cock growing hard against my thigh. I tried not to think about it. 

His hands were soft now, quick but fluttery; as he pulled my elastic waistband down to give his fingers unobstructed access to my pussy. It was wet. I did not have to hear his fingers in my juices to know this, but I did hear them squish as they entered me and I felt ashamed. He worked my pussy slow, his thumb outside on my clit. All of the strength and dexterity I had seen him use climbing he was now using inside of me. I felt myself getting hot, flushed. I knew I would not be able to hold out much longer. Just as he pushed me over the edge into a warm, pulsating orgasm, I felt him growl into my neck. 

"Yeah, cum for me baby." I was beyond resisting, beyond denying him. Five minutes earlier I would have stopped just because he wanted me to cum. Now I could not hold back. I came, clenching the back of my throat and making a guttural noise as my body collapsed into his hand. 

"That's my good little slut. Did you like that baby?" I gave a little whimper, still not returned from my orgasm yet. He gave another sharp tug on my hair, "I said, did you fucking like that?" 

"Yes," I stammered, my eyes still closed, "I like cumming for you." 

"MMM, good. I like it too. You're going to have to do that for me again. Want to feel how much I like it?" He pressed his now hard cock into my thigh to emphasize his words, "Go ahead, feel it." I timidly reached out and put my hand on his pants, feeling his cock strain against the fabric. He jerked my head back again, this time letting it hit sharply against the rock. A white pain shot through my mind, and I began to cry again. "I said feel it! Not my pants. Now put your hand in there and feel it." 

Using both my hands I undid the button of his pants. I was shaking and the process was slow. The thought of him punishing me for my slowness with another blow to the head frightened me, and I cried harder, but he did nothing. Eventually I got the pants undone, and reached my hand into them. His cock was completely hard, and much larger than I had expected. It had enough length for me to put both hands between his balls and swollen tip, and girth to match. I gasped. 

"Yeah, you like that baby?" 

"It's... it's big..." I stammered. He laughed. He reached his forefinger over to his thumb, which was still on my clit, and gave a sharp pinch. I winced. 

"And what do you want me to do with it?" 

I knew the answer he was looking for, and not wanting another pinch I gave it to him without resistance, "Fuck me with it." 

"Are you sure? It could hurt..." 

"Please, fuck me with it." 

"Alright." He finally released my hair, but no sooner had I relaxed from the built up tension in my neck than he roughly turned me around and shoved me into the rock. I put my hands up just in time to prevent my face from scraping the granite. 

He roughly pulled at my pants until they were around my thighs, and gave my exposed ass a solid, hard smack. 

"Beg me." 

I couldn't not. I began to beg. "Please, put your cock into me." He smacked me again. "I need your cock in me." Again. "My pussy is so wet." Again. I started to cry. "Please, put it in me." Again. "Fuck me." I expected his hand, but this time I felt his cock at the entrance to my pussy. He entered, just a bit, slowly and gently. He rocked back and forth, only putting the tip in me. 

"Is this how you want it?" 

I sniffed, snot coming from my nose, tears from my eyes. He pulled my hair again, arching my back but still going slow and just a little bit. 

"Like this?" 

"No." I sniffed. 

"Then how?" He pulled, "Tell me how you want it." 

"Harder." I whined. Anything to take my mind off of the pain in my back and neck. "Fuck me harder." And he did. I felt him slide easily into me. Knowing how big he was I knew I must have been very wet. I felt him bottom out well before his balls touched my ass, but he continued to push, causing a sharp pain. 

"Harder." As I told him to fuck me harder my breath started to come faster and harder. 

"Harder." He was fucking me with a fluid, steady movement, and I found myself grinding back into him, bucking my hips at him. 

"Harder." The tears were gone and it was a demanding scream. He laughed and pulled at my hair as we worked our bodies together. 

"Harder!" And he did. And I came. I squeezed tightly around his shaft, and he slowed to accommodate my clamping muscle. The slowing of his rhythm must have pushed him over the edge, because just as I finished my orgasm he pulled his cock out of me and began to shoot hot come up my back, into my ponytail. His hand gentle now, he rubbed his cum into my skin, and rested limply against my back. Together we tumbled to the ground, and he laughed as he hit the back of his head against the granite. 

Then, for the first time, we gently kissed.



Climbing a Fence



"Shit." I whispered. There was only one way to get back to my apartment and that was to climb the fence. This was normally no problem, but tonight I had gotten back late, and the neighbors annoying dog was in the yard. I could climb over the next fence, but someone might question it. Living in New York, people always were looking. I could easily take the alley, but I was small and pretty by some standards, and since it was a complex, it would be a long walk. I had long blonde loosely curled hair that fell almost to my waist. I almost weighed 110 and even though I was only 5'1'' my doctor said I was underweight. I was afraid to gain weight because I wanted to be able to climb fences and stuff. It was hard enough as it is. Most girls in my school told me I was pretty, but that I needed bigger breasts. I hated them; at 34B I thought they were tiny. But I was only 18 so I tried to convince myself that they'd grow.

My apartment building had a tall fence and a small hole under it so I could push things under it, and then climb over it. But that dog, that dog would bark and make a ton of noise if I climbed over. Being two AM my mom would know, and she would throw a fit. The only way to get in was to climb the other fence to the neighbors yard. I climbed quickly my backpack making noise with my new camera in it. I had wanted to buy that camera forever and tonight I finally got it. The problem is my mother didn't want me to buy it. She says photography distracts me from school. But I bought the camera anyway. As I jumped down the last few feet the door opened and I could see the outline of a very built man in the light. I started to run. He easily caught up with me and grabbed my arm. I struggled to get away. He pinned me up against the side of the house. 

"What the fuck do you think your doing?" he quietly asked.

I kept fighting to get away, and I suddenly heard a crack. I froze, and my eyes widened. 

"FUCK!" I almost yelled. I whipped my hands out of his grasp and pulled my pack off and open. I yanked out the camera and was destroyed. The lens had been broken. Tears started pouring down my face, and I realized I had been muttering profanities repeatedly. The man knelt down next to me and lifted my face with his fingers. 

"I'm so sorry, I didn't realize who you were. I'm your neighbor, I'll help you fix your camera..." his voice was husky, and his muscular hands under my chin sent shivers down my back.

"It's not fixable. Just let me go. Please." I whispered. 

"Why did you—" he started to ask

"Because if I went over my fence my mother would've found out and her alcoholic boyfriend probably would've flipped out. So just leave me alone." My voice shook and my body said exactly the opposite of leave me alone. I ran away from him, leaving my pack there. 

Later when I was in bed, my fingers were lightly tracing over my body, leaving trails of goose bumps. I was thinking of the shivers his fingers had sent down my spine. Thinking of him pressed between my legs, his chest pressed against my tits. How his hands had grasped my wrists. I thought about what I knew of him. He was a marine. He had done two tours in Afghanistan. I knew he suffered from PTSD, and I figured that's why he reacted. I wanted him. 

- - - - - 

Three days later there was a box on my bed. No shipping, no note. I looked in it, and there was my backpack and camera. I lifted the camera out of it and it was fixed! I decided I would slip out that night to thank him- and apologize.

Thank god my mother and her boyfriend went to bed at ten that night, as I was antsy to get going. At eleven thirty I quietly climbed out my window, climbed down the fire escape and scurried over the fence. He was in a lawn chair smoking a blunt. I quietly approached even though he was staring at me. I had chosen to wear jean shorts and a pretty white tank top. You could see the outline of my black lace bra through the shirt but it was dark. Maybe he didn't see. As I walked towards him he blew out smoke and I inhaled slightly. 

"I'm sor—thanks." I stuttered

"Not fixable?" he said 

"I don't have money."

He held out the blunt. 

"I've never smoked before so--- no thanks?" I was uncertain of everything at that point.

"Come here." He stated. "I'm Jace by the way." 

I timidly walked over. He took a long drag, and then pulled me down so I was sitting on the edge of the lawn chair, leaning over his chest. He pulled my face down like he was going to kiss me, and he parted my lips with his and blew the smoke into my lungs. Then after a few seconds he let go and I exhaled. It felt amazing. He did this a few more times. We talked about everything over that blunt. It felt like it lasted forever, yet it was over too quickly. We took that last drag and shared it. He slowly started to kiss me. I pulled back and stammered something unintelligible. Jace grinned a lopsided grin and told me to stop by the next day, no expectations.



That night I thought about his dark green eyes, his curly black hair, his tan skin, his abs, his muscular arms, hands, and legs. How his hands were strong and safe. How they held me that night, pulling my face in for a drag, rubbed my back, up and down then securely on my ribs. I wanted him to be my first. I really couldn't imagine it any other way. I decided that I couldn't wait until the next day to see him so I snuck down the fire escape again.

When I got over the fence and into the complex, I struggled to remember where he lived. Then I remembered it was on the second floor facing me, because I had once looked down and saw his back. I got to the second floor, and my heartbeat increased to a hummingbirds' speed. I was knocking on his door before I knew it.

He opened up the door looking exhausted. My breath caught,

"I- I- nevermind." I almost gasped. He didn't say anything when his strong arms encircled me and pulled me close for a kiss. His lips passionately parting mine, his tongue playing with mine. I melted against his touch, forgetting to breathe. He abruptly pulled me inside closing the door using my back, then holding me against it. His hands pushed my hair back and held my head, ran down my body, yanked off my shirt. I was oblivious, all I knew was his touch, and all I could feel was lust. He broke our kiss and stared at me, his eyes looked chaotic with feeling.

"Don't stop," I breathed. "I need you now."

"You ever been with anyone before?" he asked his voice husky and low,

"No, I want it to be you" I moaned because his hands were still tracing my body sending waves of fire to the pit of my stomach and lower. He didn't say another word as he lifted me so that I was straddling him and carried me to his bed. His arms were still around me when we fell into bed, my pussy was pressed against the bulge in his tight jeans. As if they had a mind of their own my hips started to grind against him, and a moan escaped his lips. His callused hands were kneading my small breasts, his fingers gently pinching my stiff nipples. A moment later his mouth was on one of my tits, and one of his hands was pushing my shorts down. I lifted my hips so he could pull them and my panties down, then he slid his hand back up my thigh and immediately his finger began massaging my clitoris. I moaned and pushed my hips against him. I felt wave after wave of heat flow down my spine and into my pussy.

He slowly began kissing down my abdomen, pausing at my hips to look up then he kissed down further till he was licking my pussy. He pushed his finger into my hole while he licked and gently bit my clitoris. I came in what felt like seconds. He moved to kiss me, and I could taste my own cum on his lips. I ran my hands run up his body, pulling off his t-shirt. My hands moved down his sculpted abs to his pants. I unbuttoned them, unzipped them and pushed them down as far as I could, dragging his briefs with them. He removed them the rest of the way. I was suddenly afraid of having sex with him. He was huge, at least ten inches long, and thick. 

"You're going to break me!" I gasped.

"You'll be fine." He almost growled as he kissed me hard. I moaned when he rubbed the head of his cock up and down my slit making my already wet pussy, soaked. He started to push his huge member inside of me, hitting my hymen almost right away. He looked into my eyes and told me it was going to hurt for a minute and grabbed my wrists and held them above my head. I gasped as I felt a rip, then an intense burning. It started to fade almost immediately and I pushed my hips down. Jace slowly advanced making me moan loudly. He chuckled breathlessly and started to speed up.

"You want this don't you. God damn woman," He started fucking me, my pussy felt violated, over full and stretched out. I felt wave after wave of pleasure and fire when he pushed foreword, I was so close to cumming.

"Tell me you want it, say how you love it." Jace growled. I couldn't speak so in response I came, my muscles tightening around his cock. He fucked me harder and harder, his cock stretching me out. I screamed as he came inside of me, his hot juices leaking out around his cock. I had cummed at the same time again. He pulled out and rolled off of me. I closed my legs slightly and put my hand down to feel my ravaged pussy. My fingers came away sticky with cum and blood. I looked at him, his jaw was tense, and his eyes looked chaotic. He glared at the ceiling. Then he glared at me...To be continued if you want.



Climbing Ayers Rock - Uluru



Ayers Rock - Uluru - wasn't somehow the way I had imagined it. It was big sure, but it didn't tower over the landscape surrounding it, it just sat there like something sleeping. Curled up on the desert among the Spinifex and the dusky green clumps of grevillea and small shaggy desert oaks. Around its base taller twisted oak trees grew in its shady nooks and crannies. 

The rock was red, the dirt was red, everything was red - except the vegetation. 

"It changes colour," Gerry was saying enthusiastically, "During the day, all the time. Sunrise and sunset are the most spectacular changes; we'll see that this evening. And I've booked us on the bus for the sunrise viewing." 

We stood at the base of the rock where the climb began. But at the start of the climb there were far too many plaques put up to commemorate people who had lost their lives trying to reach the top. Jeezus, I thought, looking at them.

"I think I'll give it a miss," I said to Gerry. My feelings only confirmed by looking up and not being keen on the slope and the thick chain the climbers were pulling themselves up with. It was a long steep climb and a hot day. 

"But that's one of the highlights of this trip David, climbing the Rock. I mean it's probably the highlight," he said looking up with that awed gaze he always got at monuments. I could tell. We'd been to a lot of monuments, both natural and man made. 

"Definitely," I said in my positive voice. No way was I killing myself climbing a big red rock whatever it was called.

"You're sure? I mean it's an experience. You'll miss it, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity," he wheedled, though he only looked at me briefly with his big soulful eyes, his mind already straining upwards as his legs were preparing to do. 

I'd also miss one chance of dying high up I thought. "No. You go, you'll get there faster without me anyway," I said trying to sound as if it was nothing. 

Gerry's gaze was already fixed back on the challenge and he took little persuading. He certainly wasn't going to miss out on reaching the top of Ayers Rock just because I was being unadventurous.

I watched Gerry stand for a moment at the base sizing the climb up, and then he was off, long strides high stepping him up that first steep bit to the chain. A scrawny looking European couple were right behind him, a huge camera bag bouncing on the guys skinny backside.

Gerry had some kind of weird natural affinity for wiry outdoor European couples. They often appeared at our dinner table where the three of them would regale each other with the gory details of month long jungle treks where the size of both the blisters and local insects seemed to predominate as topics of conversation. I had no doubt him and the couple climbing behind him would be firm friends by the time he returned to the hotel. 

I got back onto the air-conditioned coach and enjoyed a cool if dull ride around the base of the rock. I was curious about what may have gone on at the closed off aboriginal men's sacred sites. Some were initiation sites, including one in the caves at the foot of the huge erect penis like slab of split rock clinging tightly to the side of the main body of Uluru - Ayers Rock. Unfortunately our guide was uncommunicative when I asked for details. 

I wondered too how the aboriginals had got the big white figure drawn in the recess high up at the other end of the rock. But I wasn't really interested enough to press for information. 

Back at the hotel it was still early and breakfast time for some of the tourists and I wandered out to the poolside and ordered a coffee and sat under the white sails drinking it. Some sundried and over browned local was regaling anyone who'd listen with stories of his days shooting Camels in the desert and I gazed about idly happy to do nothing for the day. 

We'd climbed Kings Canyon the day before and wandered around Alice Springs the day before that, so I knew I didn't need any more exercise. Well not that kind. The other kind of exercise had been in short supply the last couple of weeks and I was starting to notice it. Definitely starting to notice it I realised, my attention suddenly latching onto a rather handsome guy sitting alone at a small table nearby.

Bloody climbing I thought; for a moment remembering the sight of Gerry's arse determinedly making its way up the path to the chain. And it was a moment before I refocused and found I had been staring at the stranger and that he was smiling right back at me. His smile gave me a nice jag in my arousal department. Then I looked away. It was nice to be noticed but I was faithful, well I didn't fuck outside marriage as Gerry put it. He didn't, I didn't, we were both just like that and we liked barebacking each other knowing it was safe. Which didn't mean there hadn't been an occasional something, but always short of the real thing. 

Then the handsome stranger suddenly got up and came over to my table.

"Hi, I'm Max," he said in a nice American drawl, "So you aren't taking in any sights today?" 

Up close he looked even better, and he stroked his shorts up high and smiled. 

"No. No. And you?" I asked, obviously staring, quite aware that he was interested and had something pretty sizeable on offer. 

The camel shooter was still droning on loudly about Camels being feral.

"No, I stayed home today," he smiled, "I'm not really into outdoor exercise, especially in this heat. I'm more of an indoor exercise man. What about you, do you fancy indoor exercise, um. .? " he trailed off obviously fishing for my name.

"David," I offered, "Um, yes, I like both," I said weakly, knowing I felt horny but still not sure how far I wanted to go. Feeling as if Gerry was watching me from somewhere high on the rock.

But I was also annoyed with Gerry, there hadn't been any decent sex since we'd left home two weeks before. Sure he'd tried the night before, but he'd fallen asleep while we were still kissing and playing about, and that had left me even more annoyed with him. 

"So, wanna come back to my room for . .some exercise?" he asked fixing me with his smile. 

He was making me hot, it was hot. "I don't know," I said, moving in my chair my cock filling enough to need relocating to be comfortable . "My partners climbing the rock and I 'm not sure when he'll be back." If I was going to mess about I sure didn't want Gerry walking in on us or coming looking for me, and I was a bit shocked at how easily I was letting myself be drawn into considering going with Max.. 

"Oh," he gave me a sharp look, "Well if he's climbing the rock he wont be back till after 11.30. Plenty of time," he said. It was just gone 9am. "My parties due back earlier," he added cooly, looking about the pool at what else was available, giving me the message that if I didn't take up his offer quickly he'd take it elsewhere. 

My excitement at the thought of some decent action was making me harder while my annoyance with Gerry and my general horniness, added to the threat of seeing Max walk away, combined to undermine my resistance.

"Sure," I'd made up my mind, "why not." I surprised myself and nearly blocked out the gremlin in my head yelling 'hey you're planning on being unfaithful to Gerry'. Instead I thought back 'Ten whole years I'm faithful, and once I'm not.' 

Max's room was bigger than ours, with a wide view to the rock itself. "Great room. . ., " I started to say, but he had his mouth on mine and his pants unzipped and was pulling my hand to his growing cock before I could get the words out. 

I had only touched Gerry's and mine for so many years that they had worn grooves in my fist and my fingers flicked and stroked them with the expertise born of years of experience. I felt momentarily lost as my hand tried to come to terms with this new piece of meat, that didn't fit, and I felt like laughing. 

The kiss was quickly over. Then I was vaguely wondering how many hands he had as I felt my own pants fall free and his right hand was massaging my left butt cheek. Part of me wanted things to slow down, but the horny unfucked for a fortnight part was only too happy to cooperate.

"Hmm," he grunted, "head down," he said pushing my head down and I knelt in front of him and got lost working the long thick piece he had.

It was standing strongly, slightly curved to his belly and I started playing my tongue and mouth over his cap while my fingers went to his balls. He pushed his tool down with one hand and grasped the back of my head with the other. He knew what he wanted.

He knew exactly what he wanted and I was pulled along by his insistence, satisfying his need. He had a firm hold on my head and I had no choice but to try swallowing him as he pushed his hips forward and forced himself in further. 

He was soon moaning. "Oh yes," and groaning, "That's great," as I gagged and sucked on what he was feeding me, as he fucked my face.

Then he pulled out and was pulling me up and gave me a brief kiss. "Hey now the main event," he said with a gleaming white toothy grin and I was being propelled back onto the long mirror backed dresser.

"I like to watch," he said as he stripped off my pants and lubed me up. "You like to watch a nice big cock plowing you Dave?" he asked as he dropped his own pants and kicked them off.

Dumb question I managed to think as I widened my legs and eased my butt up on the dresser and rolled my hips under. I was leaning back on the bench and the long mirror at an angle, so Max was quarter turned to the mirror and he had my legs arranged so I could see his fingers pushing at my hairy arse and he could see everything in the mirror too. 

He wrapped a hand about my cock and I was begging, "God do it. Do it," It was a long time since I had felt so ready. "Yes, yes," I gasped as he worked his fingers into me and spread me, me still gasping he was going so quick and even his strong thick fingers were making me open more than I did for Gerry when he fucked me. 

He was doing a magic job on my tool too, his thumb working about my head, his fingers applying pressure just right. "Yes, hey fuck me," I was grunting. And he did.

"Nice tight arse," he said, "real nice," I felt his fingers leaving me and looked and saw his purple cap pushing at my entrance and I wanted it inside me. I moved my hips to him and widened my thighs making it easier for him, but still whimpering as he worked in. 

"Hey yes," he grunted, and as he penetrated halfway into me I shot off , sending cream over my belly and thighs. But I continued to moan as I got my breath back and he worked his tool up in to me. I couldn't remember if I had ever had anything so big trying to fit in me before, it sure didn't feel like it. When he finally had it all in I was gasping with the strain and totally stuffed. It took a few moments for me to adjust to him then I still gasped and whimpered when he started to fuck me. 

I was moaning and moving my hips to match Max's rhythm when I suddenly saw Gerry's distressed face, and realised with a stab of regret that I loved him but could never again look him in the eyes and say I'd always been faithful to him. The thought hardly lasted a moment before I nearly got lost again in the great fucking I was getting. But it was a while before I completely lost myself again, Gerry's distressed look had taken the edge off me and I knew he was worth a dozen Max's. 

Max not only had technique and a huge tool he had stamina. I was moaning loudly and rehardened when he finally came inside me. I got my breath for a moment as he pulled out and stripped off the condom. Now it was my turn I thought. I took him by the shoulders and wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled him close to me and into a kiss. 

Max pulled back, "Hey man, I'm not into kissing much, just sex," he said, and I was a bit disappointed but needed to take my turn with him too much to worry about anything else. 

I turned Max and pushed him forwards; down along the bench I'd been lying back on before. He put up some resistance but I held him down, pushing his thighs apart with one of mine and wrapping my other leg around his free one. Then I was running two fingers into his entrance. He'd made it clear we were no more than two males getting our rocks off and I was back in full heat now and had no problem with it being like that. 

Max's resistance let up as I finger fucked him and then he groaned, "Hey, yes". I knew I had the right technique for him after all, and in a little while I was in and plowing him, first with shallow strokes then deeper ones and he was moaning and rocking his hips in time with mine. We both grunted and moaned as I showed him I had a bit of stamina too before I finally pulled out and came in the small of his back. He stroked himself off with a grunt .

A few moments after he'd come Max stood up and said "Thanks man, time to clean up now. Gotta look fresh for the family." 

He handed me my clothes and it was obvious he wanted me dressed and out of there. 

I didn't argue even though it would only have taken a moment to wash the cumm off before I dressed. I returned to my room feeling that I'd missed something. But physically I felt very well satisfied and mellow so that after I 'd showered I lay down and was asleep in moments. I woke to a buzzing noise and it took a few rings before I realised it was the hotel phone. 

"Is that David X?" a man's voice asked.

"Yes," I replied sleepily.

"It's Jack the manager here, you're sharing your room with Gerry Y are you?"

"Yes," I answered, something suddenly starting to crawl up my spine. "Yes has something happened?"

"If you can just come to reception sir." Jack replied calmly.

"Tell me. . . ," I started to say then just threw the phone down and took off. 

All sorts of things were going through my head and the sight of the memorial plaques at the start of the climb up the rock was just one of them.

There'd been an accident they said and a car took me to the clinic next to the police station. I was shaking by now and feeling guilty. God was I feeling guilty, this would never have happened I kept thinking irrationally, if I hadn't been fucking Max. Gerry was going to die because I'd been horny and fucked some oversexed yank. 

In a flood of relief that Gerry was alive I was allowed in to see him. He looked deathly pale lying on the examination table. And bruised and cut. He looked over at me and suddenly we were both crying and I had a hold of his hand and he was mumbling incoherently. 

"It's Ok," I said firmly, "Its OK, you'll be fine." I talked reassuringly having no idea what had happened, just incredibly relieved he was alive and conscious..

"I slipped. I was taking a photo for them, at the top, and I stepped back and I slipped. I thought I was going to die Dave. I did. I just felt empty, then I saw you and my hand caught in a crack in the rock, " he managed to get out between gasps and sobs.


Then he held up his damaged hand and I wished he hadn't, even roughly bandaged it was obvious it was a mess. And I could see the camera bag bouncing on the wiry Europeans backside at the start of the climb and could picture exactly what had happened. And wouldn't have if I had been there.

Then the ambulance was ready to take him to the plane to Alice Springs and I was ushered out of the room while they got him ready. The wiry European couple were huddled together in the waiting room and looked up as I entered. 

"He stepped back and just slid off the rock - taking our photos," the husband stammered. "Its very smooth and curved, he just disappeared over the edge. But we got a rope and I . . . . 

He talked on but I wasn't listening any more. Inside I knew just when Gerry had stopped falling.



Climbing Machu Picchu



"Some beautiful young men out there, aren't there?"

Alex looked up, startled. The man standing by his table at the edge of the verandah of the Southbeach Café, overlooking a stretch of Key West beach at the southernmost point in the United States, was somewhat of a cipher. He was clearly old—quite old—but he was equally clearly well preserved. His deep tan, tending toward the leathery, accentuated the silvery gray of his full head of hair and of the patch of hair on his chest as well. He had been a strikingly handsome man once and was still handsome in an arresting way—for his age. He also had been very well muscled and there was evidence of that still. The immediate impression he gave to Alex was of some sort of mummy of a man who had died in his prime and, although decaying, was doing it at glacial speed. He was just wearing baggy shorts and flip-flops. He was smiling, showing a set of gleaming-white teeth—impressive whether or not they all were still his.

"Beg pardon?"

"I said that there were some beautiful men out there playing volleyball. Many of them really sexy, all types represented, making selection easy."

"Yes, yes, I suppose. I was absorbed in the game."

"A big volleyball fan, are you?"

"No, not really, but—"

"I didn't think so. A professional observer are you?"

"Ah . . ."

"Do you mind if I sit, to take a load off. I've come to observe myself, for the moment, and this table has the best view of the beautiful young volleyballers."

"Yes, of course. Do join me." The man was being quite forward and candid, but this was Key West. Alex had read enough about Key West to know that little was hidden or kept in reserve here. And it didn't mean anything to him, of course, if the man wanted to come across as "out there" gay. It didn't have to affect how Alex projected himself.

The man sat down and ordered a whiskey, followed by a coffee, from a waiter, who clearly was familiar with—and indulgent toward—the old gentleman. The waiter was obviously gay too, in a limp wristed way that put Alex off a bit. Alex didn't want to seem that open about anything.

The old man pulled a packet of vibrant-colored cigarettes out of his pocket and was lighting up even as he asked, "Care if I smoke?" He didn't wait for an answer before going on. "My name is Bob. I trust that you're a tourist, coming for the first time to our little tropical paradise down here to . . . observe?"

"Yes, down from Delaware—Wilmington—to escape the winter. Stopped here on my way farther south. My name's Alex, by the way."

"Nice solid name, Alex. It suits you. You're a nice solid-looking man. Well put together. Staying at . . .?"

"The Blue Marlin, just down the street on Simonton. Rather interesting. An old fifties-style motel, but they keep it up and emphasize the retro."

"Yes, I know it well. So, just retired from DuPont and decided suddenly to see the world? You look a bit young to have retired. More than a bit, actually."

Was the man leering at him suggestively? Alex chose to ignore any possibility that he was. Still, he felt a tightness inside himself—as if the old man was pulling at him to extract all of his deep, dark secrets. Then why, Alex wondered, was he proceeding to give up nuggets about himself? At the back of his mind, he kept wondering just why it was that he'd wanted to take a side trip to Key West on his way farther south.

"Not retired yet, but you hit it on the head with DuPont. Not DuPont itself, but one of the major banks in town. We do a lot of work with DuPont. I'm fifty—just turned. Looked around and decided I hadn't done much of what I wanted to do in life. So, I'm on an extended vacation."

"Ah, yes. Fifty is a dangerous age. I'm seventy myself."

"Seventy? I wouldn't have guessed." And, in fact, Alex wouldn't have guessed that. Sixty maybe. Certainly older than he was himself.

"I've done what I can to keep that from being a first guess. And you got bored up there in Wilmington did you? Made a list of places to see, and Key West was on the list?"

"Yes, Key West has always intrigued me."

"Yes, yes, it does, for a certain type of man."

Alex didn't quite know how to respond to that, but Bob saved him the trouble, continuing on with his probing. "Is Key West the only sightseeing destination on your vacation agenda?"

"This is just a stopover. I'm on my way down to Peru. Wanted to see Machu Picchu. It seems to be on everyone's bucket list."

"Ah. Rather unique, a stopover in Key West on the way down to Peru. When you get there, you're going to do what, take a flyover of the area? You're not going to climb to the ruins?"

"Yes, yes, a flyover, but how did you guess that?"

"I sense a pattern here. And, so, why did you stop over in Key West? To observe beautiful young men playing volleyball on the beach or to fuck or be fucked?"

"Excuse me?"

"We're an open and honest lot down here in Key West, Alex, and the key is famous for one thing, really. I just wondered where you were in life. It seems you've moved to observer from experiencing. I can understand that. I was in my fifties once, facing retirement, and suddenly realized I hadn't been much of anywhere. In my rather older age, though, I've discovered that it's all going to abruptly stop at some point—and I will either have collected photographs of others doing something—young men playing volleyball on the beach, for instance—or I'm going to have experienced life myself. That's why I went back to smoking and drinking . . . and fucking. And Key West is a great place to do all that and devil may care."

"Fucking at your age?" Alex asked, stung by what Bob had said and wanting to sting a bit back.

"You better believe it. And I'm quite good at it, if I say so myself. You're only fifty. You're not past it. And you're a good-looking man who has kept yourself in shape. There are a lot of fifty-year-old men fucking other men on Key West. It's what we're good at here. If you're brave enough to go past observing, you'll maybe admit to yourself that men don't come down to Key West by themselves just to observe beautiful young men playing volleyball on the beach."

Alex's ears reddened up. "Is this some sort of propositioning? If so, I must say it's creative."

"Yes, it is an invitation to fuck, Alex. You're a good-looking man alone on a beach in Key West, ogling young studs just in Speedos. Why wouldn't I be propositioning you? Life is too short to beat around the bush—although I'm not propositioning you for right this minute. I already have a fuck planned for this afternoon. I find you very attractive. You also don't fool me. Yes, I would like to fuck you. That's what I came down to Key West to do, why I live here now. I fuck younger men. And they enjoy me enough to ask for it again—sweet music to the ears of a seventy-year-old man."

"I don't really . . ." Alex tried to make his voice sound indignant, but he was more flustered and embarrassed than indignant. He had indeed come to Key West to recapture—in a voyeur way, he thought, when he thought about it—what he had enjoyed as a young man in his twenties. Not for the past two decades, though. He'd given all of that up to fit in and get ahead. He'd just come to watch, and no one had challenged him before on that being a mode of letting the experiences of life pass you by. He hadn't even looked into tours to climb to Machu Picchu. Why hadn't he even looked into that if he was going to make the effort to go there? And, no, of course Key West wasn't on a natural line from Wilmington to Peru. He had clearly fooled himself about that—and about how much he wanted to come to Key West and why. Why had he done that? Was he giving up? At fifty?

Bob had stood up from the table. "Not this afternoon. I can't fit you in this afternoon. But maybe we'll meet later, while you're still here in Key West, trying to live the lifestyle vicariously. Maybe we'll fuck then. I'm taking you for a bottom. Sorry, I only top. For now, see that nice blond young man out there across the volleyball net, the one who looks more basketball than football? That's Trent. He's nineteen. He came to Key West to experience his dreams. The volleyball game is breaking up. I came here to watch him play. I'm taking him to my nice little bungalow on Amelia Street to fuck his lights out. That will be enough for me for the afternoon."

Alex sat there, stunned, as Bob moved toward the steps down to the sand. Bob's tone had been cheerful and casual. So why had Alex felt threatened by it? And he had come down here because of the men, and he was flattered at the compliments on how in-shape he'd kept himself so that, at fifty, he still could be desirable. So why was he upset at receiving a proposition, as strangely and baldly as it had been couched, from another man? The man was seventy; it should just be all talk. So, why did Alex find him—and what he'd said—arousing?

Bob stopped at the top of the steps down to the sand, turned, and said to Alex, "In case you wondered, I have eight inches, it still can get—and stay—hard, and I know what to do with it."

* * * *

"So, Alan, is it? You've come out to do some more observing? Is that all you're interested in yet, or would you like to come back to one of the back rooms with me and Trent here for a three-way?"

Alex turned from where he was standing at the bar at the Bourbon Street Pub on Duval, to see that the strange old man who had propositioned him on South Beach that afternoon was standing there, his arm around the shoulder of that young blond man he'd said was Trent, and giving him a bright-toothed smile. Trent was smiling a bit dreamily too, and by the way Bob had his arm around him, it was obvious that Bob controlled him—and probably had satisfied him earlier in the afternoon. That was a bit of a surprise. Although the two had walked away from the beach restaurant together earlier that afternoon, Alex had half convinced himself that the old man had been putting him on—that he was the young man's grandfather.

"It's Alex," he said, finding that he wasn't being as cold and put-offish in his response as he intended to be. "I'm fine here at the bar," he added, not wanting to let himself reveal that Bob and his proposition—and his lecture about experiencing rather than just observing—had been all Alex had been able to think of throughout the afternoon as he hibernated in his room, arguing with himself whether he really was going to be brave enough to come check out the bars he'd been reading about—the gay bars. Alex didn't frequent gay bars, certainly not in up-tight Wilmington, Delaware. He didn't even know if there were any such bars in Wilmington—no, that was a lie, occasionally he checked out on line where they were and even sometimes drove by them. He could only fantasize about what went on inside them, though. Rooms in the back. Bob had mentioned rooms in the back. Alex felt himself, involuntarily, going hard.

"You go on back and find us a room, Trent, honey," Bob said to Trent, releasing the young man from his firm embrace. "I'll be along in a few—or maybe we'll be along. I want another drink—and to talk a bit with hot-looking Alex here."

Alex didn't think himself as hot looking. Certainly not at the moment. He'd come out in a sports shirt, linen trousers, and loafers, with socks. He could see now that that was decidedly overdressed for the gay stretch of Duval Street at night. Bob was still in his baggy shorts and flip-flops, but he'd pulled on an athletic T. In the dim light of the bar, he looked even younger and fitter than Alex had remembered him from earlier in the afternoon, in the unforgiving sunlight of South Beach. Trent, willowy, but firm-muscled and girlish-face handsome, was just in shorts—and barefoot.

Bob won't have much to strip off him to fuck him, Alex found himself thinking. And then he turned red and took on a sheepish look.

"Thinking of me fucking that sweet blond?" Bob asked, as the bartender delivered him a double-slug whiskey.

Alex blushed even more, as that was exactly what he was thinking. "No, I was thinking that maybe this wasn't really the place for me to be."

"The view isn't fine enough?" Bob asked, with a laugh. "They're practically fucking on the dance floor. And that little Latino on the dance pole looks mighty sexy. Don't tell me that you're backing away even from voyeur."

"It just isn't . . ."

"Isn't something you're brave enough to do? You're only fifty, Alex, and you're in good shape—fine-looking shape. You're not dead. And your momma ain't here—at least I don't see her here. Look at me. Look at my smile. You can still get it up, can't you? I'm seventy and I can. I'm about to go back to a room behind the bar and make that sweet blond cry. You decided to get off sittin' on the fence and just take the splash of getting off? You can go back there with me. I'll show you a good time. I can make you cry too, I'll bet. A good kind of cry."

"Uh. No thanks. It's kind of late, and this was my last stop. I think I'll go back to the—"

"Going on to Peru in the morning?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact—tomorrow afternoon. And I should be getting some sleep."

"Gonna fly over Machu Picchu or climb to it?"

Alex didn't know what he said to that. He disengaged as soon after that as he could, but, with a "Suit yourself, then" and a laugh, Bob was moving toward the beaded curtain-covered doorway at the back of the room before Alex turned in the other direction and escaped the bar.

* * * *

Alex went straight back to his room at the Blue Marlin Motel. Trying to wipe the thought of any encounter with the aggressive and forthright Bob out of his mind—not fully successfully, though, as images of Bob with Trent and then Bob with himself were floating through his mind—he busied himself in packing up for the flight back up to Miami and then on to Lima the next afternoon.

His hands were trembling as he packed, and he was muttering to himself, castigating himself. Damn that Bob, he thought, and then he adjusted that to damning himself. Why had he come down here? Was it just to observe and to dream as a voyeur? Hadn't hitting fifty given him a jolt about why he'd repressed himself the last two decades? He'd studiously kept in shape and he hadn't married or shown much interest in a relationship with a female all that time. What had he been holding back for, not fully giving up his dreams, his remembrances of how good it was when he was enjoying another man's body, another man's cock inside him?

The travel guides for Peru—for Machu Picchu—fell out of his carryon as he was pulling dirty briefs out of that to stuff somewhere in his suitcase and to replace with clean ones in case his luggage got lost in Peru and he had to live with the clothes he had in his carryon.

He took the guides over to the chair by a table in front of the window to the parking lot, the draperies now drawn, and sat down. He started looking through the ads in the guide again and the explanations of the tours offered. He couldn't stop his hands from trembling, though, and he threw the brochures down on the table in disgust and padded into the bathroom. He stripped and showered and pulled on a pair of sleeping shorts—all the time trying to keep images of Bob with Trent and Bob with him out of his mind. Unsuccessfully.

He heard a knock on the door when he came back into the room.

Of course it was Bob at the door.

"How did you find me?" he asked, both upset and pleased, and confused that he felt both sensations simultaneously.

"You told me where you were staying. I know the people managing the place. Don't you want to know why I came? Or do you think you already know?"

"I . . . I . . ." Alex was flustered. Did the man always have to be so blunt, so challenging, so suggestive—so knowing?

Bob held out his hand, revealing that he was holding a wallet. "Yours, I think. It was left at the bar. I recognized who it was from the driver's license inside. You really are fifty and you really are from Delaware. I'm impressed. I assumed you had made it up. Most do when they come down here to . . . observe. And I really did think you were younger than fifty. No matter there, of course. I'm really seventy, and fucking a man of fifty or a barely man of nineteen are both fucking a younger man. They both have holes to fill."

"I . . . I . . ."

"Are you going to invite me in? If you invite me in, I'm going to fuck you, you know."

Alex meekly stood aside, pulling the door wider open, and Bob strode into the room.

* * * *

The painful pleasure of it was excruciating. Alex had stuffed a folded sock from his nearby suitcase in his mouth to keep himself from raising the dead three rooms in any direction and, belly down on the bed and arms stretched up and out, fists gripping gobs of chenille bedspread, feet leveraging up and down off the carpet beside the bed, he endured the remembered ecstasy of a hard cock driving deep inside his ass. More than enduring it, he moved with it himself, leveraging off his feet, as he met cock thrust with pelvis thrust. This wasn't just Bob taking; this was the two of them fucking.

Bob wasn't just good, he was great. If Alex had remembered his life as a bottom in his twenties and early thirties as being this good and arousing, he never would have stopped. The rest of his life would have had to adjust to it.

Upon entering the room and after dropping the wallet on the table next to the travel guides, Bob had placed a hand in the center of Alex's chest and just pushed him back to the bed and into a sitting position. Alex had done nothing to resist, although he could hear the heavy breathing and the low-in-the-throat rattling sound, which he only vaguely connected to himself.

Bob had sunk on the floor between Alex's thighs, as, hands on Alex's knees, he pushed the thighs apart. Alex was already, suddenly, hard. His dick had pushed out of the slit of his sleeping pants. Not content with this, Bob pulled the shorts off Alex's legs and moved his mouth over the shaft. Alex moaned and his hands went to the back of Bob's head as the older man pushed the foreskin back with his lips, squeezed them tight on the rim of the bulb, and sucked hard on the bulb.

Alex convulsed wildly at the pressure on his cockhead, and Bob reached up with his hands and gripped the younger man's chest at the sides, under the armpits, and held him steady. Alex leaned back, his arms going behind him to support his weight on his whitened knuckles, threw his head back, and moaned deeply to the pock-marked ceiling. Bob's mouth went all the way down the shaft in a quick motion and then up slowly to return to sucking the bulb hard. Then down slowly and up fast, sucking the bulb hard. The pattern was repeated, again and again, as Alex groaned and shuddered.

The younger man hadn't had a blowjob in decades, and he'd never had one this good. He came quickly, down Bob's throat. Afterward he lay there on the bed, looking at Bob hovering over him, playing with a condom packet. Alex was effusively whispering his apologies for coming so quickly—and without warning and inside Bob's mouth. The older man said nothing. He just stood there, standing over Alex's body, unstrapping his belt, unzipping himself, pushing his shorts down, rolling the condom on his hard cock.

"Christ almighty," Alex whimpered with a shudder. "You weren't lying. God, I'm not sure I can . . ."

"I know you will. And you'll love taking every inch of it. Roll over on your belly."

With a groan, Alex did as commanded. The light next to the nightstand went off. They were in near darkness and would have been in total darkness if the curtains on the window at the front of the room met all the way.

For some silly reason, Alex felt more comfortable, somehow protected, in the darkness. It wasn't because he had been sucked off and was going to be fucked by a seventy-year-old man. Bob's body was fine. And that dick! Alex shuddered at the thought of it inside him. But, somehow, in the dark . . .




Climbing The Corporate Ladder



Jerry Sinclair frantically ran through the field office of Snow Inc., critically inspecting each workstation. He usually had at least a day's notice before one of Phyllis Snow's visits, but for this one he had received only a phone call from her car...While she was on the way there from the airport. She had just returned from a meeting in New York with their biggest client, and she did not sound happy. She wanted to talk to Jerry and talk to him NOW. If nothing else, Jerry knew Phyllis would expect the office to be spotless, a mean, lean, sales-generating machine where the employees were kept away from any distractions that might hamper them in their efforts to move more product and make her richer.

Jerry made his way to the reception desk just on time. Right after inspecting the girl on the phones and ensuring that not one hair was out of place, Jerry heard the front door open. He snapped to attention as Phyllis strode in, trailed by her harried assistant. "Good morning, Ms. Snow," Jerry said, but received only a nod of acknowledgement. He followed Phyllis and her secretary through the office as Phyllis checked each workstation, one by one, all the while barking out orders that her secretary patiently scribbled down. The employees hunched over their phones and computer terminals, fearful of making eye contact with the brash, muscular Amazon woman who at 6' dwarfed Jerry's thin, 5'7" frame. Finally, Phyllis commanded her secretary to find an empty workstation and begin making the many phone calls and setting up the meetings she had demanded; the girl quickly scurried off. Then Jerry led Phyllis into his own office and closed the door.

He sat down at his desk as Phyllis turned her attention to the many video terminals lining one wall. Each was trained on a different part of the office...salespeople, data entry, accounting, file room, section managers. Not one employee was spared the electronic invasion, not even Jerry, the third man in charge. Phyllis' partner in the next office had a terminal where she could observe Jerry through the camera mounted, in plain sight, on the ceiling. "I had a meeting with Stephen McCallin this morning," Phyllis snapped.

"Yes, Ms. Snow?"

"It was not a happy meeting."

"Mr. McCallin isn't happy with all of the product we've been moving for him?" Jerry was sorry as soon as the words left his mouth. Phyllis turned around slowly, giving him a look that he feared more than death itself. He gulped when she brandished a remote control from her briefcase and aimed it at the ceiling, shutting the camera off.

"If Mr. McCallin had been happy," Phyllis growled, motioning for Jerry to come to her, "I WOULDN'T FUCKING BE HERE RIGHT NOW."

Jerry bowed his head subserviently as he approached Phyllis, then gracefully lowered himself to his knees. Phyllis was a tall, strong woman, and that strength showed even in her ankles and calves. Moreover, her feet were very strong too. They were well-toned size 10s encased in a pair of black pumps. Jerry knew what to do. He lowered himself to the floor and planted kisses on the tips of the pumps. "What can I do to make things better, Mistress?"

"Well you can start by firing that FUCKING ASSHOLE Accounting 'Manager' of yours. He spends all of his time leering at that girl outside his office. THAT'S MY TIME he spends stroking his pathetic little cock." She used her foot to push Jerry onto his back, then stuck her heel in his face. Jerry licked the spiked tip.

"Done, Mistress. And what else?"

Phyllis mashed the sole of the shoe into Jerry's face, cutting off his air until he turned purple, then releasing him. She smirked when she saw his cock making a tent in his pants and began teasing it with her heel. "This new crop of salespeople are fucking idiots--DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING TOUCH THAT COCK UNTIL I TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN--and they need to be put in line. Raise the sales quotas by another 10%. If they can't cut it, they are GONE."

"Yes, Mistress," Jerry moaned, his cock straining against Phyllis' heel. "And what else?"

Phyllis mashed her foot into Jerry's cock, her stern look keeping him from even daring to cry out, then moved to a chair, sticking her feet out in front of her. "I've been up since 5 this morning. My feet are fucking killing me. I expect that you will make them feel better."

Jerry kneeled in front of her, his cock throbbing and begging to be let out. He knew that Phyllis saw his discomfort and was taking pleasure in it. He carefully slipped each pump off her feet, admiring her muscular foot and toes, nails bare but neatly trimmed and shaped. A pungent aroma wafted to his nostrils from her damp black pantyhose. She shoved both feet into his face. "Smell them, Slave. Smell the sweat that's been coming out of my feet since I got up this morning. You love that smell, don't you? You can't get enough of that, can you?" Jerry nodded, eagerly inhaling the fumes and feeling his cock pulsate. "You want to fuck these feet, don't you? Cum in between my toes?" She laughed bitterly. "Why the fuck should I let you do that when you can't even run this fucking office right? But maybe if you make my feet feel good today I will at least let you cum."

Phyllis shoved a set of toes into Jerry's mouth and he took them obediently, his hands holding each side of her foot like a sandwich as he sucked the sweat out of her hose. "Ahhhhh. You are good for something, Slave." Phyllis leaned back in the chair, letting her long, dark blonde hair cascade down her shoulders, and smiled at the sight of Jerry sucking her toes. She removed them from his mouth and presented her sole to him for licking. Jerry fought the urge to put his hand on his cock as his tongue ran up and down her beautifully high arches and his tastebuds reveled in her perspiration. Instead, both hands were still on her foot, tenderly massaging it. When Phyllis was satisfied with the first foot, she shoved the second one in his mouth and he repeated his actions. He nearly jumped when he felt the first foot touching his cock, tracing the outline of his erection through his pants.

"Mistress," Jerry asked through the foot in his mouth, "may I take off my pants?"

"Shit NO," Phyllis told him. "You need to be taught a lesson. I'll let you cum, but you're going to cum in your pants and walk around with it there for the rest of the day. Maybe that will remind you to pay more attention to what those fucking dirtlings in the rest of the office are doing." She massaged his cock with more fervor and made him whimper. "What do you think of THAT, Slave?" She pressed her toes into his ball sac, making his cum boil.

"You are too generous with me, Mistress," Jerry croaked. "As you always are."

Phyllis nodded and closed her eyes, concentrating on the feelings shooting from her feet through her body as well as on readying her Slave for cumming. Her hand slipped down under her skirt, then under her hose and panties. Jerry smelled her pussy as she fingered herself. She never let him touch her pussy, though she had let him see it a few times. As far as he knew, only one person in the company had ever gotten to partake of Phyllis' pussy-and that was her assistant. Jerry knew because Phyllis had once sent him a videotape of the young woman eating her out. She promised that if he served her well he would one day be allowed to eat her, and maybe even fuck her. But he still needed training.

Jerry heard Phyllis moan and saw her arch her back and press against her own hand. "Watch me cum, Slave," Phyllis gasped, using both feet to jerk Jerry off as an orgasm racked her body and made her screech in delight. He bit his lip in the effort to keep his own cum in; she had not given him permission to release it yet.

After a couple of minutes that seemed like an eternity, Phyllis composed herself and looked into Jerry's pleading eyes. "Now," she told him, "You can go ahead and cum, Slave. I want to see the cum stain your pants." It wasn't a moment too soon. Jerry threw his head back and moaned, his cock exploding over and over within the confines of his pants. Phyllis smiled when she saw the growing wet spot, then stood up and straightened her clothing. She indicated that Jerry could also get up, and he walked back to his desk. Phyllis turned the camera back on.

"When do you want me to fire the guy in Accounting, Ms. Snow?" Jerry asked.

A smile crossed Phyllis' face. "I'll take care of him," she said, thinking of how that sniveling little man looked at his pretty young employee as little more than an object. She saw how uncomfortable the girl looked through the surveillance camera. That's one fucker who needs to be taught how to respect a woman, she thought. She turned on her heel and made a beeline for his office.



Climbing the Corporate Ladder



It is known that the business world is as unstable and unpredictable as an earthquake. So it would be wise not to leave your career in the hands of destiny alone; push it along and make sure it keeps growing.

Sarah Ford was one of those young professionals seeking to build enduring and continuous supremacy within the company. Many employees were willing to leave their job for a pay raise of 20% or less, but definitely not her. Sarah would rather build stability by moving up the ranks within the firm.

Not only was she smart and motivated, but she actually enjoyed her work. Being a junior executive meant a lot to her and she wanted to show to the company how much she was worth. She has always thought she had to toot her own horn regarding her reputably accomplished productivity because it is unlikely that anyone would do it on her behalf. The job market is a competitive environment and everyone is looking out for number one.

Sarah was confident she would get the promotion she so much deserved. She has strategically associated herself amid individuals in high positions in order to further her career. Her colleagues have mentioned several times that she had seniority in the workplace and treated her accordingly.

The fact that the entire board of the directors, including the CEO, would be replaced came as shocking news, as she has remained visible to affluent individuals in her firm. She considered networking an integral part of developing a name for herself and maintaining constant growth in her professional career.

Coincidently, it was the time of the year that the board reviewed everyone's work, in order to elaborate a top performer list. That list was nothing more than a collection of names eligible for promotion, based mostly on productivity. But, nothing is that simple, and being the best employee on side of the Pacific wouldn't mean anything without anyone to acknowledge her hard work.

It wasn't like Sarah was overly ambitious, but she has made quite a few commitments of her own. Her husband Ted has recently lost his job and she was having a hard time maintaining the budget all by herself. To top that, they just bought the house of their dreams, and it certainly didn't come cheap. Now, they did not have the means to pay for it, and the thought of losing her house haunted her.

This promotion was something she just had to get, and she was working hard for it. Sarah had to be sure this sudden change didn't compromise her goals. She just needed to have a quick talk to her new CEO and boss. These occasions are perfect for demonstrating leadership and organizational skills. Supervisors always notice these attitudes that transpose well into the work place. 

"Hi, Sarah." Her workmate Claire brought her back to reality.

"Hey, Claire. What's up?" Sarah asked her.

"Have you met the new CEO yet?" Claire started gossiping.

"No, how is he like?" Sarah was curious.

"His name is Dwayne Malone; I think he is a bit older than us, but physically build and quite charming. A nice guy from all that I heard about him. He gives money to charities and even runs homeless shelters around the city. A respected man and well liked in the community." Clair mumbled.

"Sounds like someone up to the task." Sarah said.

"Indeed. And he believes in casual work dressing as a way to improve productivity!" They both laughed at her commentary.

"Do you think it would be possible to schedule a meeting with him today?" Sarah questioned her.

"I know his late working hours are well known. You could try to reach him after business hours; his office is at the top floor." Clair tried to help her.

"Will do that, thanks Clair." Sarah said as she headed to her work station.

The new CEO might be a fan of casual dressing, but 29-year-old Sarah Ford has always believed in proper dressing, and she has done it with style. She'd always looked younger than her age, and she still looked girlish now, despite the size of her big, round tits, long legs and tight behind. Sarah's blue eyes were wide and innocent-looking, and her long, straight blond hair framed her beautiful, delicate face perfectly.

She was wearing one of those suit's jackets with a white blouse under it, which hung over her large 36C breasts, not even close to touching that gorgeous flat stomach of hers. She also was wearing a matching skirt, which hung to just above, mid thigh level with a black belt around that thin waist.

The skirt showed those long, smooth legs off nicely, encased by stockings. Her long straight blonde hair hung down passed the bottom of her shoulder blades, brushed so it feel behind her shoulders so that her magnificent chest was shown without any obstruction.

She didn't want to use her beauty as a way to achieve professional success, but knowing how to explore her good side was a strong quality. Besides, it didn't hurt to look good, the outfit emphasized her very ample chest. She wore black high heels, to further enhance her presence. She looked a knockout as always. Her blue eyes looked even bigger than normal, contrasting against the mix of black and blonde.

Sarah resumed finishing her report, she had to take advantage of opportunities that came her way, and ones that didn't. Advancement would not be handed to her on a silver platter; she had to work hard and persevere.

She has remained receptive to future opportunities by mingling with co-workers from different departments. Reaching the zenith in a specific field of the firm did not mean the stagnation of her career; it simply meant that she would have to seek other ventures in the company for advancement.

She believed that in order to be taken seriously by colleagues, and more importantly superiors, one must show initiative in their work. So she didn't wait for crystal clear explanations from her boss regarding her tasks. She often took initiative, proving she is the best for the job and well on her way to a promotion.

She has been competitive among colleagues because it's a dog eat dog world. No one would step aside to help her get the promotion she has been waiting years for. The business world is a selfish one that doesn't pardon play well with pity.

But going the extra mile did not mean "brownnosing" to Sarah. She has never volunteered to wash the boss' car or to baby sit his children over the weekend. She got her act straight and gained respect for her motivation and proficiency in the work place.

She knew volunteering time would help her reputation and she wasn't afraid to offer time and expertise to train new employees and hold tutorials when needed. These little exploits wouldn't go unnoticed by supervisors who are likely to remember her last name when promotion time swings around or an important rush project needs undivided attention. This helped formulate an alliance with her superiors, which was key in moving up rapidly. 

That is what she wanted to talk to the new CEO, she wanted him to be well aware of her actions and history at the company.

*** 6 hours later ***

"No, he isn't back yet. He should have been an hour ago but he's not and he hasn't phoned yet." His secretary answered.

"Thanks, anyway." Sarah told her.

It was way past business hours now, Sarah was the only one left at the floor. She didn't want to give up, but the CEO was simply unreachable at the moment. Maybe he was already reviewing everyone's files and wasn't available. In that case, the only way was to talk to him personally.

She felt she had to try, so she entered the elevator and headed to the top floor. As the doors of the lift opened, she noticed that she was indeed out of luck. Not a single soul there, only empty work stations running the firm's screen saver. She walked down the hallway and finally found his office, a large room by the end of the long corridor.

Opening the office door, without even bothering to knock first, Sarah had a bit of a shock; she hadn't expected to see the man staring back at her, sitting at the CEO desk: Dwayne Malone was about sixty years old, grayish white hair on his balding head, short and way overweight. Nothing like what Claire described.

He wasn't wearing a suit alright, but she assumed he would at least wear something more adequate to the work's environment. His jeans were ragged and faded, showing signs of heavy usage and his shirt was a couple of sizes too small, looking ready to burst.

He was caught by surprise and rushed to the mouse to close the file he seemed to be working at his computer. It was probably some confidential document of the company, and Sarah immediately regretted her harsh action.

"You can't be here!" Dwayne promptly said.

"Mr. Malone, I am terribly sorry to bother you like that. I did not mean to intrude." Sarah said, trying to hide the discomfort in her voice.

"Oh... In that case, what are you doing here?" Dwayne asked her, after regaining his composure.

"My name is Sarah Ford; I am one of the junior executives. I am sure you must have heard of my work, sir." Sarah politely introduced herself.

"Can't say that I have." Dwayne stood there, now with a large smile on his face, obviously ogling at her body.

His dry answer just made Sarah even more nervous, as it was clear that not only she didn't have any chances of promotion, but she was making things even worse by making a fool of herself.

"I have a few matters I need to discuss with you, sir. I was hoping the previous CEO had filled you in." Sarah tried to remain calm.

"He never told me." Dwayne said, "I suppose you had better come in, then."

Sarah moved past the door, shutting it behind her, and walked towards him at his large table. She held her skirt as she sat on the chair, right in front of him. They sat there for a couple of moments in silence, Sarah looking everywhere else while Dwayne seemed to openly ogle her.

"So what can I help you with?" Dwayne finally broke the silence.

"It is about the performer list, sir." Sarah went straight to the point.

"Is that supposed to mean anything to me?" Dwayne harshly asked.

"It's the annual promotion review system, sir. I am sure you've been briefed about it." Sarah reminded him, a little puzzled.

"Oh, yeah, that. What about it?" Dwayne maintained his indifferent tone.

"I know it may sound too forward, but I really think I deserve to be on that list." Sarah finally spoke. It was time that significant higher-up in her work environment must acknowledge that she is indeed all she can be, and this is not solely in reference to the U.S. Army.

"Do you realize how many times I have heard that? Most of the times it's been all talk, why should it be any different with you?" Dwayne asked, incredulous.

"I am hard working and reliable, sir. Besides, I am very productive." Sarah brought her best side to attention.

"That is what I pay you for! Do you think you are doing me a favor?" Dwayne seemed upset with the way this conversation was going.

"Not at all, sir. I didn't mean that." Sarah was caught off guard.

"Cause it seems to me you feel you are better than your peers and you want some sort of privilege around here!" Dwayne continued.

"No, sir. I would never think that way." Sarah replied, clearly shaking now.

"So is there anything else? I am a busy man, you know." Dwayne finally tried to break the conversation.

"I am sorry, sir. I really think we started on the wrong foot here." Sarah told him, while remaining professional.

"I certainly think so." Dwayne replied.

Sarah took a deep breath and started explaining her point of view. She thought the key was to take authority, or rather, act as though she could be the next boss. So she described her milestones, her envisioned goals and how she had focused her career path. She did plan her rise to the top with proper visualization and aspirations after all. She took the opportunity to present him some of her projections and set optimistic but attainable goals that would drive her to surpass her original plans and push the envelope.

"That was quite illustrative, Mrs. Ford." Dwayne said, looking very bored.

"Thank you, sir. It really means a lot to me." She smiled.

"But, I can clearly notice there is more to it than simply your devotion to work. What is it really?" Dwayne confronted her.

"The thing is that my husband and I are going through some tough times, and that promotion would help us get on our feet again." She finally said, being quite sincere.

"So you are expecting me to be sympathetic?" He measured the authenticity of her voice tone.

"I just wanted to be honest about the situation, sir." Sarah continued.

"Fair enough, Mrs. Ford." Dwayne concluded.

"So you will consider me for promotion, sir?" Sarah hopefully asked.

"I will tell you what, Ford, you have guts to come here and ask me that, so I am willing to take a risk." Dwayne told her.

"Thank you, sir. You won't regret it." Sarah assured him.

"But I have to be sure I am not taking a hasty step first, so I need to know some background information about you. Is that alright?" Dwayne asked her, in a serious tone, while he seemed to reach her file at his computer.

"I understand, sir. Please go ahead." Sarah complied.

"So how long have you been working for this firm?" He asked without stopping what he was doing.

"Five years now, sir. I first started as an intern." Sarah promptly answered.

"It says in your file that you are one the most promising young professionals around here." Dwayne stated.

"I am glad to hear it, sir." Sarah's smile widened.

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?" Dwayne continued.

"Twenty nine, sir." Sarah replied.

"And how long have you been married?" Dwayne shifted the focus to more personal questions.

"Four years, sir." Sarah was very private about her life, but it seemed fair that her new boss wanted to know more about an employee, especially in this case.

"Do you always wear that kind of outfit to go to work?" He stared at her. Sarah usually looked amazing, but in that figure hugging business suit, she looked radiant, and so unbelievably fuckable.

"I believe so, sir." Sarah blushed.

"Your husband is a lucky man, indeed. You have kids?" He praised her.

"None, sir. I am focusing on my career at the moment." Sarah answered.

"And what kind of underwear are you wearing right now?" Dwayne pushed further.

"Excuse me?" Sarah thought her ears must be playing tricks on her.

"The way I see things, Ford, what the hell, I am just gonna call you Sarah from now on." Dwayne tried to explain his actions. "You are skilled, dedicated and you probably deserve that damn promotion. But that ain't gonna happen!" He continued.

"I don't understand, sir." Sarah expected a CEO to have better arguments than that.

"It is quite simple really, Sarah." He resumed his point. "If you want the promotion you need to give me something in return, and by that I mean that lovely piece of ass of yours." Dwayne boldly stated.

"What? Are you fucking serious?" Sarah shouted, outraged.

"Do I look like I am kidding?" Dwayne kept his indifferent posture.

"This is sexual harassment, I will have you fired and charged for this!" Sarah threatened him.

"You can do whatever you damn please, Sarah, I don't care." Dwayne didn't seem to mind. "It will be your word against mine and by the time it gets sorted out your promotion will be gone. So let's just be practical about it." He continued.

"You fucking pig!" She yelled as she slapped him hard on the face.

Sarah got up and rushed to the door, there was no way she was gonna walk in front of this guy and give him an excuse to view her ass. She got out and slammed the door behind her.

"Dirty old bastard!" She thought. "I'm old enough to be his daughter."

Sarah clutched the nearby wall; she was shaken up and on the verge of crying. She couldn't believe he had the nerve to propose something like that to her. She was honest about her work and circumstance and he just tried to take advantage of her.

She wanted to make the old perv pay for his offence, but he was right about his point. Surely she would find a way to prove he harassed her, but that would take an awfully long time. She only had until tomorrow to make it to that damn list and so far she had nothing.

As much as she hated the idea, she needed to go back to his office and try to reason with the old prick, hoping he would come to his senses about the matter. She took a deep breath, straightened herself and headed back to his office.

"Sarah, looking good as always." He said with that stupid smile on his face, as she walked in and sat at the chair facing him again.

"I am willing to give you a chance for you to apologize." She told him straight up, making it look she was on top of the situation.

"Sarah, come on. It's a long way to the top, and you are only showing that you don't have what it takes to get there." Dwayne laughed.

"I am a hard working and honest professional and I love my husband! You should be ashamed of yourself, you asshole!" She shouted. Maybe she could convince him by showing an aggressive side.

"High moral standards won't get you anywhere. Besides, quit being a baby! I am not telling you to love me or some shit like that. It is strictly a business transaction: we both want something and we are trying to reach an agreement." Dwayne tried to rationalize it.

"I don't want it all that much!" Sarah promptly answered him.

"Is that so? How come you are back here, discussing it then? I may be an asshole, but I am not a hypocrite, I am not forcing you to do shit! If you want to go and report me go ahead, I don't fucking care, I just gave you an option!" Dwayne finally lost his temper.

Sarah was stunned. He had it all figured out. She wanted so much to get out of there, but she though about her her husband. They needed the money for their house. She sat there thinking and thinking.

"So what is it gonna be?" Dwayne finally asked her.

"I will listen to your offer." Sarah managed to say, trying hard not to cry.

"It has been a while since I had a woman, Sarah, and I can honestly say I never had one nearly as gorgeous as you." He told her as if it was a compliment.

"I am not gonna fuck you!" Sarah immediately answered.

"See, Sarah? You are learning how to deal. How about you suck my cock, then?" Dwayne continued.

"How about you masturbate your pathetic penis, knowing that you will never have me?" Sarah taunted him.

"That is the kind of attitude I expect from my employees, Sarah. But I am afraid that is my final offer, take it or leave it." Dwayne stated.

"I will not put my mouth anywhere near your excuse for a penis!" Sarah replied with a dry tone.

"You are one tough cookie, I'll give you that. How about this, you let me eat you out and that's it?" Dwayne insisted.

His propositions weren't going to get any better than this. Sarah was completely lost and didn't know what to do.

"You will perform oral sex on me and nothing more?" Sarah asked, a bit skeptical.

"That's the deal." He replied.

"If I let you eat me now, will you give me the promotion?" She whimpered as her predicament sunk into her.

"Sure, Sarah." Dwayne assured her.

"What about after?" Sarah continued.

"You go your way; I go mine, no strings attached." He tried to sound reasonable.

"You don't really expect me to cum for you, do you?" Sarah mocked him again.

"You don't have to enjoy it but you sure as hell must pretend it! Now lock the door, get over here and let's do it!" He smiled.

Sarah sat there with shock in her eyes. Slowly, she realized she had no choice. She was going to do it. She was going to do this for the husband she loved. Reluctantly she got up, locked the door and turned to face him. He was smiling triumphantly.

"My, you look pretty!" He laughed gazing at her young, firm body in a low cut, business suit. "Dressed up for me?" 




Climbing the Corporate Ladder



Sarah hated him but nodded yes. 

"How nice! What about your underwear?" He asked getting closer to her for a better look.

She despised him and what she was about to do. She took off her jacket and slowly unbuttoned her blouse, she couldn't face her boss. As the buttons came undone, she held her blouse closed, hoping he would finally end it.

"I am waiting!" Dwayne sneered.

Resigned to the inevitable, Sarah silently slipped her blouse from her shoulders. She stood before her boss in her sexy, lacy, skimpy bra. The top was light blue and clung to her tits making them look even bigger than what they actually were, and they were big normally. It barely covered those firm mounds; her nipples were poking through the thin material. She looked ravishing. 

"Lovely! What about the rest?" Dwayne asked, impatienly.

Sarah lifted the front of her skirt. She had on stockings, a garter belt and sheer string bikini panties that matched her bra color. The bottoms were so small that it clung to her body in a way that her pussy was just covered by it.

"Let's get this over with." Sarah said as she reached to unbuckle her skirt, but he grabbed her hands before she could unfasten a button.

Dwayne slowly released her hands and positioned his face between her legs. As his hands massaged her inner thighs she began to breathe heavier. He pressed his nose right up against her button fly and inhaled her scent.

Slowly, he began to undo the buttons off of her fly. She felt the front of her thong being pulled off the surface of her mound as he pulled back to remove the button. When he finished he pulled her skin tight skirt over her gorgeous hips and gazed up at her.

He moved up further on the chair and began to lick her thong very deeply. She felt the satin thong get pushed deeper and deeper into her. He reached over and undid the string of her thong, and removed it, placing it in his shirt pocket.

"I want to taste you!" He eagerly told her.

Sarah was shocked. She enjoyed being eaten, certainly not by this awful old man, though.

He extended his tongue and took his first taste of Sarah's luscious pussy. The flat of his tongue swept between her widespread cunt lips and brought an involuntary gasp from her throat. 

Almost against her will, her hand moved behind her head and she tilted herself down so she could watch directly. His mouth glued itself to her pussy lips and he sucked hard, letting his tongue curl deep into her moist cuntal passage and then twitch as her interior muscles closed around it. He worked it around then out, seeking the tip of her clit and teasing it, then nipping lightly, expertly with his teeth. 

Sarah could hardly believe that it was really her, half naked with a near stranger, degrading herself, letting him lick her pussy. It was something she never would have dreamed possible. But then it started. Almost imperceptivity at first. 

"This can't be!!" She fought the feeling

"No, please don't! Please stop!" She sobbed. But they both knew she didn't mean it. Even if she did, Dwayne didn't care. She was flailing her hips wildly as he continued to slaver at her wet throbbing cuntal slit. The tormenting wet licking kept on and she heard the lewd noise of his tongue licking against her pussy. 

She was beginning to enjoy this lascivious licking by this old man. She couldn't believe the change that had come over her body. She tried to suppress her pleasure, but she couldn't stop herself from crying out in obvious passion when Dwayne again took her clit between his teeth and began to titillate it with his tongue.

"You got a gorgeous little cunt, Sarah!" he said as he stroked his fingers over her lightly-furred sex, experimentally feeling the slippery wetness of her neatly trimmed, aching pussy-slit.

Suddenly, he stiffened his wet, slashing tongue and rammed it as deep as it would go into the hot pulsating passage between her wildly thrashing legs. 

"Ohhhh!" She moaned. Sarah nearly went insane from the expert tongue fucking. Her excited quivering cunt walls clung to his long darting tongue. Her naked round hips and ass quivered and shook with the vibrations which spasmed throughout her pelvis. 

She grabbed his head by the hair, roughly pulling his face onto her creaming fuck-hole. Sarah gasped as the old man suddenly glued his lips to her pussy, thrusting his tongue deep into the interior of her hotly burning slit. If she was gonna do this lewd act, at least she would get something in return, she decided. She only hoped he did not notice it was not an act.

"Uhhhhmmmmm, fuck, yes! Lick it, Mr. Malone! Lick it good!" Sarah clutched her boss's head with both hands and wiggled her ass pleasurably on the chair, sighing as he began dragging his fat tongue up and down between the flowering folds of her pussy.

Dwayne was a practiced, enthusiastic cunt-sucker. He moved his hand between the wife's legs, delicately opening her pussy-lips with his fingers. He lapped her cunt much faster, licking all the hot, flowing juices from the depths of her drooling cunt.

"Unnggghhh! Suck it, Mr. Malone! Suck it good!" Sarah couldn't restrain herself from humping her ass, grinding and thrusting her burning pussy-hole against his lips and tongue.

"Oh yeah! Yes! Yes! Do it to me! Lick my pussy! Make me cum! Just a little more and I'll make it! Please!" She heard her words but couldn't believe she was saying them. She was completely uninhibited and aroused now, every nerve ending tensed and poised for the bittersweet agony of completion. Almost there, she felt his tongue move deeper up her cunt one more time, licking savaging away. 

"Ooooohh, fuck, that feels so good! Get your tongue in there, Mr. Malone! Make me cum!" Sarah yelled.

Dwayne kept lapping Sarah's tasty pussy, she shuddered as he slid two fingers gently into the clasping interior of her cunt. He jacked off the horny, humping wife while he ate her pussy, stabbing his fingers rhythmically in and out of her gooey, wet fuck-channel.

"Suck my clit!" Sarah pleaded. She humped harder, gasping and groaning, unable to keep her blushing ass still on the chair.

"Uhhh! Feels good, Mr. Malone! Oh, fuck, I'm getting close! Lick it, suck my pussy! Make me cum!" She yelled.

Dwayne touched his tongue on the swollen pink bud of Sarah's clit. Instantly, the young wife humped her hips up at his mouth much faster, pulling his hair as she fucked her wet pussy all over his face. He took her burning clit between his lips. He sucked her clit firmly, grazing his tongue on it, simultaneously pounding his fingers rhythmically in and out of her juice-gushing cunt.

"Gawd! I'm cumming Mr. Malone!" Sarah hissed, humping so fast that he could hardly keep his mouth on her pussy-slit. "Unggghh! Suck my pussy! Oh, fuck! I'm cumming, now! Yes! I'm Cumming!" She shouted at the top of her lungs.

Sarah's pussy exploded violently into orgasm, her trimmed fuck-hole contracting tightly around the old man's probing fingers, her clit tingling and pulsing almost unbearably between his lips. Dwayne kept sucking and jacking her off, guiding Sarah through the intense peak of her cum. 

Sarah chanted mindlessly as her passion deranged hips began to grind against Dwayne's half-hidden face in her convulsing cunt. Her cuntal walls milked greedily on his thick thrusting tongue now. Her hands dropped to entangle themselves in his grayish white hair in an effort to force his head even further between her lewdly spread legs.

Never before had she experienced such a wildly exciting rapture. As he continued to tongue-fuck her hot convulsing pussy, she found even more new frenzies of pleasure. 

Finally, he was finished. Dwayne's tongue stopped licked her cunt and he slowly pulled his head back, staring at her hot swollen cunt lips. As the tremors in her satiated body began to subside, the pleasure he had just given her made Sarah ashamed of herself. Trying to catch her breath, she sat there, her skirt up around her waist. She closed her legs in embarrassment. 

"Wasn't so hard, see?" Dwayne laughed as he wiped her pussy juices from his face.

"You really are a selfish bastard!" That was Sarah's only answer.

"Come on, Sarah. I think you are exploring your potential here, by overcoming an adverse state. Our firm truly can use individuals like you." Once again he sounded like he was complimenting her.

"We are done here!" Sarah covered her breasts, pulled her skirt down and got ready to leave.

"Before you go, let me offer you something else." Dwayne tried to get her attention.

"What is it this time, pig?" Sarah replied, very angry.

"Since you are so interested in that promotion, why don't you go the extra mile and aim for that senior position? I am sure the income difference would be substantial." Dwayne proposed.

"You would love that, wouldn't you?" Sarah showed him the finger.

"I told you earlier, we are doing business here, we have our deal already. Do you want this new position or not?" He asked her, impatiently.

"What's the catch?" She told him. After that entire ordeal, she would at least hear the egoistic pig's offering.

"We have to renegotiate that cock-sucking clause of our little contract." Dwayne laughed.

"Fuck you, asshole!" Sarah cursed him.

"Suit yourself, Sarah." Dwayne ignored her and sat at his table, returning his attention to the computer.

Sarah knew an opening for a senior position wouldn't be available for the next seven years. It would certainly be a great career upgrade and financial solution to her problems. 

"If you tell this to anyone, I will have you arrested, do you understand?" Sarah threatened him.

"Perfectly." Dwayne smiled as he realized what she was willing to do. "Now, get over here!" He ordered.

Her heart was beating rapidly as she approached Dwayne Malone. When she came behind his desk, Malone slid his chair back away from his desk. Sarah tried to ignore him; her fingers trembled as she opened his belt and yanked down his zipper, he lifted his hips slightly to help her as she tugged his ragged jeans down to his ankles, freeing his throbbing cock under his huge beer gut.

He wore no underwear and his dick was nothing like she had imagined. His cock was enormous: so long and fat that the wife gasped at her first sight of his tremendous prick.

"Oh, my!" She thought. "Look at the size of that thing. It must be twice longer than my husband's and way thicker!" Sarah couldn't help but stare at the huge prick pulsing like a steel rod between his belly and herself.

A sudden image of herself sucking Mr. Malone's giant cock flooded into Sarah's mind. She imagined herself on her knees, whipping her fist, furiously up and down his big, stiff prick, slurping loudly and shamelessly on his cock-knob. The flush in her cheeks turned nearly crimson, and Sarah realized how wrong that was.

"See anything you like, Sarah?" He snapped her out of her reverie.

"It's no big deal!" She angrily replied.

"How come you can't take your eyes from it then?" Dwayne laughed.

Sarah blushed as she heard the bold commentary.

"Get down on your knees in front of me and suck my prick. Suck it good and the senior position is yours. Suck it bad and you're stuck to a regular promotion." He ordered her.

The boss' eyes were all over the wife's gorgeous body, and when she saw his gaze on her crotch, Sarah opened her thighs wide, giving her boss a good long look at her dripping wet cuntslit.

Dwayne's massive cock bucked and throbbed, obviously as stiff as a prick could get, he was red-faced yet trembling with lust. He gazed down at her, his huge fuck-pole throbbing right in front of her face. Sarah whimpered as she wrapped both hands around his prick, amazed that so much of his stiff cock still protruded from the grip of her fists.

"Is this how you like it, Mr. Malone? Is this how you want me to stroke your cock? Huh? You do want to fuck me, don't you?" Sarah though she could stall him and get away with a hand job.

Sarah kept stroking his gigantic, stone-hard cock. His incredibly long, fat prick arched stiffly over his equally large belly, capped with a puffy, helmet-shaped knob that oozed milky pre-cum.

"Oh, Mr. Malone, what a monster! Let me take care of that big, beautiful prick for you!" Sarah's mouth watered as she stared at her boss' magnificent cock.

"Does this feel good, Mr. Malone?" The wife asked, jacking her boss' prick with her hand, pumping her fist fast and hard up and down his huge throbbing erection. "Does it, sir? Is this making your cock feel better?" She teased him.

"Y-yes, Sarah." Dwayne stammered. "Oh, yes!

"It feels good to me, too, sir!" Sarah hissed. She beat his cock-meat as fast as she could, excitedly watching the pre-cum oozing from his piss-hole. 

Sarah ran her fingers up and down his hard cock-shaft. She thought if she stroked it enough, he'd cum before she had to suck him. She moved her hand to his balls and gently caressed them. 

"Beg for me to suck my cock!" Dwayne commanded.

"Please, let me." She said, without the least sign of enthusiasm.

"Remember what is at stake here." He reminded her.

"I really want to suck your prick, Mr. Malone. I want to an awful, awful lot. Will you let me, sir? Will you please let me suck your big, fucking cock?" Sarah pleaded, in a slutish tone.

"That's more like it." He laughed.

Sarah's mouth watered as she realized how desperately she longed to suck the salty prick-juice out of her old boss' hard cock, imagining herself slurping down his cum.

Ashamed but knowing she had no choice, Sarah moved her face to his cock- head. She was revolted and her heart was beating rapidly as her silky tongue tentatively emerged from between her soft lips. Then, ever so slowly, her tongue touched the underside of his cock. Sarah tasted her old boss's prick. 

Dwayne just moaned. Sarah dropped her hand, pressing her lips in a lewdly sucking kiss on the spongy tip of his prick. She tasted the strong saltiness of her boss' cream, and her pussy ached as she imagined how much cum was stored in his balls, how much of his hot, sappy jizz would soon spew down her throat.

Gradually, the wife let her lips part, making loud, wet, smacking sounds as she took her boss' cock deep inside her mouth. Hungrily, she licked her tongue around the swollen length of his prick-shaft, delighting in the taste of his fuck-rod.

Sarah shut her eyes, concentrating on nothing else in the world but the taste and feel of her boss' cock in her mouth; she wanted it to end soon. She started sucking, her cheeks flushing brightly and puckering with her suction around the stiffness of Mr. Malone's dick. 

Sarah clung to her boss's cock with her hand, holding up his wand of prick-flesh as she slurped and sucked loudly on his cock-tip. Up and down her head bobbed, shamelessly fucking her face with Mr. Malone's giant fuck-stick.

Dwayne put his hand on her breast. He squeezed it hard, feeling her nipple become erect. He slipped his hand inside of her bra, touching her bare tit flesh. First, his palm pressed against Sarah enlarged nipple. Then, he tweaked it between his thumb and forefinger. He kneaded her soft tit flesh as the stunned young wife kneeled before him obediently. 

"Oh, Sarah!" Dwayne groaned. Dazedly, he looked down at his employee, excited by the spectacle of the cock-loving wife with her lips stretched to bursting around the steely stiffness of his prick.

Malone pushed her skimpy bra cup aside, exposing Sarah's milky white soft breast. He squeezed and pinched her naked tit. Sarah remained on her knees before him, half dressed and in shock as his hand worked on her breast. 

"Harder, Sarah!" Dwayne dropped his hands to her head, curling his fingers in her long, golden blonde hair. He bucked his fat hips off the chair, nearly choking the young wife as he tried to jam his cock farther between her lips.

Sarah's soft, perfectly painted red lips closed around the older man's long, fat cock. She felt his prick begin to enlarge as her tongue moved along the shaft. Sarah moved her head back and forth sucking as much of the growing shaft into her throat as possible. Her moist, watery mouth covered his cock shaft with hot saliva. 

His mushroom shaped cock-head grew larger and more resilient with each passing second. The rhythmic sucking and milking of her soft velvety mouth made Dwayne's prick continue to enlarge. He was moving his hips back and forth as her cock-sucking mouth aroused him further. Her eyes were opened and she saw his gray pubic hair inches from her cock-sucking lips.

The cock-sucking act Sarah was performing on the old man was affecting her. Although she tried to rationalize that this was not really sex, her nipples were hard and erect, her bra pushed aside exposing her naked tit flesh. She felt her pussy quivering and throbbing. 

"Come on! Put it in your mouth and suck it good for me!" He ordered her.

Encouraged by her boss's eager words, Sarah sucked his fuck-pole even harder. His hot, salty cum-juice was oozing out of his piss-hole. His prick was growing even stiffer, pulsing rhythmically on the roof of her mouth. 

Dwayne was looking down on her, watching his cock slide in and out of the married woman's mouth. He watched her head bobbing back and forth as her lips held his cock-shaft tightly and her tongue flicked madly at the sensitive underside of his prick. He knew she was getting into it, she was enjoying sucking him off. 

Although she was an experienced cocksucker, Sarah had trouble swallowing more than half of his large prick, and continually alternated between sucking near the head and kissing and licking further down from mid cock to the base where her hand was gently stroking and milking his shaft. 

"Would you like me to do something to make you feel even better?" Sarah asked him, in a girly tone.

Dwayned just noded. Still jerking his cock-shaft with her hand she moved her mouth over to his cum filled balls and licked at his nut-sack. Then she sucked one of his balls into her mouth along with his gray curly pubic hair. Her tongue and lips worked to devour his one cum filled ball, then switched to the other. 

Just as she thought she had sucked on his balls enough, Sarah kissed and licked each one gently before returning her mouth to his cock-head. Dwayne looked down at her and watched his cock sliding in and out of her mouth. As he felt up her tit, he was moaning and moving his hips, trying to push more of his cock into her mouth. He took his free hand and wrapped around hers, showing Sarah how he wanted her to jerk him off into her mouth as she sucked him off. 

After she was doing it the way he wanted, he pulled his hand from her breast and put both his hands on her head and held it still and then moved his cock in and out of her throat, fucking her mouth. As his cock passed back and forth between her lips, her tongue licked and flicked at the underside of his prick. Her lips held his cock tightly. Sarah felt his cock getting bigger and hotter. 

Sarah knew she had her boss was close to blowing his wad. Relentlessly, she sucked on his aching cock, the bedroom filled by the constant slurping, gurgling sounds of the frantic blowjob in progress. Her hand jacked on his fuck-rod again, frantically beating his cock up to her cock-filled lips.

Her moist tender lips grasped tighter and tighter around his glistening prick as her warm wet mouth took more and more of his huge shaft. After a few minutes, Dwayne had his entire 11-inch cock in Sarah's mouth, her nose was buried in his pubic hair.

He then held her head steady, and pistoned his entire cock-shaft rapidly in and out of her mouth from his piss-hole to the root. He fucked her accepting mouth for several minutes, driving his cock deep in her throat. 

Sarah's hands were now holding his ass cheeks, her mouth filled completely with the thick, long mass of cock-meat. Her tongue licked and flicked along the underside of his cock as he reamed it in and out of her throat. Then, he grabbed her head by her long blonde hair and roughly moved her head back and forth along his prick as he continued to fuck into her cock hungry mouth.




Climbing the Corporate Ladder



Sarah continued sucking his burning prick as hard as she could. Sarah moved her hand between his thighs; sighing around his cock as she felt the heaviness of his hairy, wrinkled balls. Lovingly, she fondled his congested balls, slurping and sucking madly on the rigid stiffness of his prick.

"Its time to eat my cum, Sarah!" Dwayne panted as he felt his balls swell in anticipation of bursting forth with a heavy load of sticky white cum. "That's it! I'm cumming!"

Dwayne's creamy torrent of cum blew into his prick-sucking employee's mouth, splattering on the roof of her mouth, and then shooting past her tonsils down her throat. Sarah clung happily to her boss' erupting cock, feverishly gulping and swallowing as she sucked, determined to nurse down every drop.

His jism was delicious, the tastiest cum she'd ever swallowed in her life. And his load was every bit as huge as she'd hoped it would be. A tidal wave of cream blasted again and again out of Mr. Malone's cock, making his prick pulsed wildly between her lips as it vented its load of boiling sperm.

"Fuck yeah!" He screamed.

His hands grabbed her head and he shoved her hungrily sucking mouth down hard onto his manically jerking cock. Dwayne's cum filled balls spurted another three or four large loads of their precious fluid in her mouth, Sarah continued sucking greedily as every drop emptied down her throat. She tried to lick every moist bit of his cum from the madly throbbing head of his cock. His hot gooey semen tasted like heaven to her. 

It was an incredibly big load, bigger than any Sarah had yet nursed from her husband's balls. His cum-blast spurted into her mouth, nearly choking her as it spewed down her throat. Sarah sucked his squirting cock harder than ever. The sequence was followed by spurt after spurt of rich, milky, salty-tasting spunk.

Again and again, his jism streamed up from his balls, inundating her mouth and throat with her boss' rich cum. The sounds of the wife's wild prick-sucking grew even louder as she swallowed his cum.

She tried to swallow it all, but some slipped from her lips. He then pushed her head back and shot several spurts of cum all over her face. Sarah watched as his cock jerked about wildly, ejaculating his hot load on her face. His cum was in her eyes and on her nose. Large globs of cum dripped down her cheeks. 

Dwayne put his prick back in Sarah's mouth. Her lips again tightly encircling his massive cock-shaft. He continued moving her head back and forth as she continued nibbling on his cock-head, sucking clean every last drop of his life-giving sperm that she could until he was completely drained. He left his big cock inside of her mouth as it slowly softened. 

Hungrily, Sarah continued to suck Dwayne's cock even after she'd swallowed the last spurt. "I don't think I've ever seen, let alone swallowed so much spunk in my life." Sarah thought.

"Oh, shit!" Dwayne moaned happily. He grinned down at Sarah wickedly as she finally let his still-hard cock slide out of her mouth. He had to push her head gently away to make her actually take his saliva-and-cum dripping prick out.

"Man, you are such a good cock-sucker, aren't you, Sarah? The way you were talking before, I almost thought you'd turn me in to the cops. I should have known all along how bad you craved a big cock!" He laughed.

"Hope you enjoyed, you bastard!" The wife sat up on her heels, still staring transfixedly at his huge cock as she licked drops of cum from around her mouth.

"Congratulations, Sarah. You are a seniour executive now. Wasn't it worth it?" Malone laughed.

Sarah, still revolted by what he made her do, just nodded.

In a daze, she got on her feet, repositioned her breasts in her bra, fixed her blouse and put her jacket on. Dwayne watched as the pretty young wife who had just sucked him off for a promotion got herself cleaned and fixed her makeup. 

"What do you say?" Malone asked, when she headed for the door to leave.

"Thank you." Sarah answered, infuriated, but knowing she didn't have a choice, 

"You are very welcome!" He laughed. "What the hell! How about going for the gusto?" He asked.

"What do you mean?" She couldn't believe he kept pushing this situation further.

"I am talking about a chair at the board of directors. You will be the youngest employee to get there and you will be set for life. All or nothing!" He gambled.

"And what would that cost me?" Sarah asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"That tight little cunt of yours." Dwayne replied, straight to the point.

"There is no way I am gonna take a cock as large as yours! I wouldn't be able to feel my husband for weeks. I am not even sure if I would be able to feel him anymore after taking a horse cock like yours." She told him, her concerned eyes wide open.

"I see you are a fast learner, Sarah." Dwayne reached into his desk and retrieved his checkbook. "How about all we discussed, plus an additional one million dollars added to the pot?" He started filling it.

The offering of that overwhelming sum of money, plus all the associated benefits, left little to say. "Okay Mr. Malone." she said breathlessly. Considering all the degradation, there was no turning back now; there was no point in doing that.

"I'll let you shove that monster cock of yours inside my tiny, tight pussy and fuck me. Nice and hard, the way I'm sure you want to. But not without a condom on! I am not on the pill and I am pretty sure I am at the peak of my period." Sarah demanded.

"I don't do condoms!" Dwayne argued.

"Tough luck!" Sarah turned to leave.

"Wait, wait! You win; we'll do it your way!" Dwayne acquiesced, opening his desk drawer and retrieving one of those ultra thin extra large condoms. "With one of those it's like I am not wearing a condom at all, so we both win." He smiled up at her with contempt.

Sarah snapped her attention back to the agreement and realized she would be best to keep her boss happy if she wanted to be a chairwoman. She quickly obliged and stripped down to her stockings. Dwayne leant forward to suck on one of her nipples, his hands squeezing and pinched at her big breasts the whole time.

"You've got a great rack!" He said, and then returned his hungry mouth to her nipple.

Sarah closed her eyes and let out an involuntary moan. He continued with this foreplay for several minutes until he thought she was ready.

"Okay, so it is set!" he said. "We have a deal, right? I get to fuck your tight, little pussy now, don't I?" He wanted confirmation.

"Oh, gawd, yes!" Sarah whimpered, licking her lips as she stared at his massive prick. "We have a deal. Now, fuck me, Mr. Malone! Put your cock in my pussy and fuck the crap out of my juicy cunt!" Sarah walked towards the couch, sat down and spread her slender thighs wide apart, then lifted them high, until her knees hovered over her shoulders.

Dwayne just grinned and started stripping off the rest of his clothes, his naked figure was nothing something easy on the eyes. He quickly wrapped his massive cock with the polyurethane preservative and got into position on top of her, bracing the weight of his torso on outstretched arms.

Sarah got comfortable on the couch, in order to endure her imminent ordeal, trembling harder than ever. She wiggled her heart shaped, pert ass into a good humping position, then spread her slender thighs as wide as she could, letting her horny old boss see all of her tight, wet, pouty-lipped cunt.

Both of them looked down to watch his endowed, condom-wrapped cockhead aim at her hot cunt. He kept staring down at the wife's round, peach-shaped asscheeks, and at the wet, trimmed lips of her cunt. Holding his stiff cock in hand, he moved forward until his cum-oozing prick-knob pierced her pussy-folds.

He found her entrance and slid his big cock into her. Her tight pussy seemed to stretch beyond possible. "Oh, fuck, Mr. Malone!" She cried out even before the hilt of his cock reached her lips. "Ugh, sir," she grunted. "Be gentle with that big thing! Fuck! I never had anything nearly as big! Oh, you are splitting me open!"

"You want this? You want this hard cock inside of you? Do you want me to fuck you right here at my office?" He asked her while slowly pushing his cock further into her pussy.

"Yes, sir, please fuck me! Slide your big cock into my pussy and do me! Put that hard cock inside of me! Fuck me right here!" Sue pleaded.

"Ohhhh, Mr. Malone! Ohhh, fuck! Yes!" Sarah clawed the cushions and humped in a frenzy of desire, groaning and gasping as she ground her sopping wet pussy against the root of his cock. "Fuck your hot employee, sir! It's almost all the way in now! Give it to me, every single inch!"

"Unngghh! Oh, Mr. Malone!" Sarah started humping as soon as he had his prick securely embedded in her pussy, wiggling at the same time to help him spear his cock all the way up her juicy cunt.

"Fuck me, Mr. Malone! Oh, gawd, that feels so good! You've got such a big cock, sir! It's really a monster! Ram it up my pussy! Fuck my cunt and make me cum!"

Dwayne gasped, realizing that Sarah's pussy was even tighter then he expected. Her wet, pink fuck-hole nipped and sucked around his giant cock, as if welcoming it into her pussy. Relentlessly, he pushed his prick into her trimmed pussy-slit, sinking inch after inch of his cock into her narrow, gooey cunt.

"Fuck my pussy! Fuck your hot, horny employee's pussy!" Sarah gasped. She draped her ankles over his shoulders and humped her ass like a bitch in heat, groaning and shuddering as she thrust her red-hot pussy onto the satisfying stiffness of his long, hard prick.

"It's going into me good, Mr. Malone! Oh, fuck, it's such a whopper! All the way in now, sir! Shove it all the way up my hot, tight cunt!" Sarah begged.

"Really? What about your husband?" He taunted her.

"You are twice his size, sir! Push that long, thick cock into my juicy tight cunt! I want you inside me now way further than he can be! Stretch me like he never will!" Sarah managed to say between moans.

Dwayne collapsed on top of his hot, shapely employee, crushing her big, stiff-nippled tits under his chest, sinking his massive fuck-shaft to the balls in the gushing sheath of her cunt. Sarah nearly started cumming all over again as she felt his bloated prick-head plumb the depths of her womb.

Instead, she scissored her ankles together high across his back and started humping as fast as she could. She squirmed and whimpered shamelessly as she pistoned her drippy pussy onto the root of the old man's huge prick.

"Fuck my cunt, Mr. Malone! Fuck your employee's juicy cunt! Unggghh! Oh, fuck, you've got such a big cock! I love your huge, fucking prick! Ram it up my cunt, sir! Fuck my hot pussy as hard as you can!"

Dwayne pulled his cock out slowly, sighing as he felt her exquisitely snug little pussy-channel clinging wetly to his prick. He paused with just his spongy cock-tip inside her cunt, then thrust even farther up her pussy. He began working his hips steadily between her spread-eagled thighs, reaming out the wife's heaving pussy with long, driving strokes of his blood-swollen prick.

"Unh... unh... uhhhhh, that's right! Oooooh, fuck! Ohhh, gawd!" Sarah grimaced as she humped her slim hips up to meet his strokes, relentlessly thrusting her pussy against the pulsing root of his cock, ramming all of his 11 inches in and out.

"Fuck me, Mr. Malone, fuck your horny employee! I love your big prick, sir! Oh, please, fuck me faster with it! Gawd, I Love your big, fat monster prick!"

Harder and faster, Dwayne fucked the prick-hungry wife's cunt, the couch springs squeaking beneath them, her tender pussy-hole squishing audibly as it sucked hungrily on his older prick.

Sarah felt his cock pulsing ever more stiffly up her pussy, and knew that the he wouldn't last long at that pace.

"Harder!" She clawed his back with her fingernails, grasping his gyrating ass-cheeks in a desperate attempt to make him force his cock even farther up her cunt. "I'm gonna cum again! Harder! Keep fucking my pussy, Mr. Malone! Oh, please, make me cum all over your prick!"

Dwayne fucked the shameless wife as fast as he could, driving her ass into the cushions as he relentlessly stroked his massive prick into her gushing, open pussy. In and out, his cock sawed, in a blur, seeming to pleasure a different-part of her pussy with every thrust. Sarah humped with all the energy in her loins, crying and panting as cum-spasms erupted deep inside her cunt.

"I'm cumming, Mr. Malone! Fuck me! Ohhhh! Fuck my pussy! Unnggghhh! Oh, fuck me, sir, keep on fucking me! Uhh! Uhhhhhh! Uuhhnnnnnnhhhgggghh! I'm cumming!"

Sarah's pussy exploded, spewing cunt-cream all over Dwayne's hammering prick, her trimmed, wet fuckhole spasming and contracting repeatedly around his cock. He sighed and sank down on top of her, thrusting his aching hard-on to the balls in her cumming cunt.

"Fuck me from behind, sir!" Sarah mumbled. She blushed, ashamed of the intensity of her lust. "Come on, Mr. Malone, I need more of you! Need you to fuck me hard!"

But she didn't have to ask. Dwayne Malone still had a giant, throbbing hard-on, his prick stiff and tall, pumping in and out of her. Sarah's pussy was throbbing almost painfully, she desperately needed to get fucked.

"Come on, Mr. Malone!" Sarah swiftly got into the dog-fucking position, dropping her shoulders low and wiggling her round, peach-shaped tight ass at him enticingly. "Fuck me good, old man! Ram that monster prick inside my hot cunthole and fuck me hard!"

Dwayne got into position behind her saucily rounded ass, his long, stiff cock twitching up and down before the wet, pouting lips of her trimmed cunt. Holding his prick in hand, he took advantage of the fact she was facing away from him, tossed his condom and fit his bare spongy cock-crown into her fuck-hole.

"We won't need this anymore!" He thought. Then he grasped the wife's child bearing hips and pushed his cock into her pussy, squishing inch after inch of his naked erected prick into the sucking, wet heat of her fuck-channel.

"Oh, Mr. Malone! Your massive cock is so much hotter now!" Sarah cried, and grimaced as she felt his giant prick boring into her pussy, stretching her cunt-lips wide around the invading thickness of his cock, unaware that he wasn't using protection anymore. "Fuck my pussy, Mr. Malone!"

Sarah clawed the cushions and started humping, wiggling and bucking, thrusting her red-hot pussy against the satisfying length of his prick.

Dwayne rammed his prick all the way in her cunt and started fucking her tight, little pussy fast and hard, rhythmically spearing his cum-loaded fuck-pole in and out of his employee's tight, slippery twat. Sarah bucked to meet his rhythm, whimpering as she thought how incredibly good it felt to have a giant prick like her boss' embedded in her pussy.

"Fuck my cunt, Mr. Malone, fuck your employee's juicy cunt!" She cried. "Oh, fuck! Ooooh! Gawd! My pussy loves your big prick! Ahhh, yes, fuck my cunt! Fuck me, sir, fuck me! I'm cumming again!"

Immediately, Sarah started humping, desperately thrusting her horny cunt back against the satisfying penetration of her boss's rock-hard cock.

"Unnggghhh! Oh, Mr. Malone! That feels so good! I said, fuck me, sir! All the way in, sir! Ram you big prick all the way inside me!"

Dwayne held the wife's hips, looking down at the juncture of their bodies where his bloated cock-tip disappeared into the clinging lips of her pussy. The old man pushed his prick in her cunt again, making Sarah gasp as she felt inch after inch of his long, hard cock slide relentlessly up her gooey snatch.

He slammed forward, burying his enormous prick to the hilt in his employee's hot, clinging fuck-slit. He clutched her hips and fucked her cunt in a hard, driving rhythm, pumping his blood-swollen fuck-pole in and out of her juicy, sucking cunt.

"Harder, Mr. Malone!" Sarah's face was a contorted mask of ecstasy as her boss pounded her pussy, giving her the relief she'd needed so badly. She bucked tirelessly to meet his strokes, her huge tits jiggling and swaying over the couch.

"Oh fuck!" Dwayne cried. "Oh fuck! I'm cumming!"

The second load of cum rushed up from his balls, making his enormous prick jerk and quiver deep inside her belly as it injected her cunt with his hot, gooey sperm. Sarah felt his cum splashing deep inside her pussy, drenching her cunt with another torrent of her boss's rich, creamy spunk.

"You bastard! You tossed the condom! Pull out! You will knock me up!" Sarah pleaded.

Dazedly, she did the opposite of she intended as she flexed her cunt-muscles around his squirting prick, helping her old hung boss shoot out every drop of his jism deep inside her.

"Man, that was a good one!" Dwayne, grinning down at Sarah as he popped his wet cock out of her drenched pussy. "Don't worry about it; you will have plenty of money to raise a kid." He laughed.

Sarah pushed him roughly away. The initial heat of their fucking had faded, allowing room for the shame and guilt she'd suppressed all along. Sarah couldn't believe that she'd just given her pussy to her old boss and let him cum inside her unprotected pussy. She didn't think she could ever face her husband again.

"Hey!" Dwayne protested. "What's the problem..."

"Get out!" Sarah demanded hoarsely. "Just, just leave me alone! Get out of this room!"

"Hey, come on! I just fucked your hot little ass all over the couch, and now you're acting like..."

"Just get out!" Sarah interrupted, shouting. "Yes, I know what we just did! And I regret that! Just leave me alone! Get out right now!" She ordered.

Dwayne looked at Sarah for a moment longer, then shrugged, picked up his clothes and trudged silently out of his own office. Sarah lay naked on the rumpled couch, his milky boiling cum still oozing out of her well-fucked cunt.

"What have I done? My own boss!" She thought, over and over. "I let my own boss fuck me, and I enjoyed it!" Sarah regretted.

*** Following day ***

Sarah couldn't sleep that night, whenever she closed her eyes she had visions of Mr. Malone's giant prick. She could feel her pussy-lips pulsing in and out. Her clit felt very swollen, and she knew that nothing could gratify her tight little pussy the way a large penis like his could, and that killed her inside, as she didn't want to hurt her husband.

She lost track of time and was late for work. That meant she wouldn't have the time to deposit the extraordinary sum into her own account. Not that she would do it by herself, anyway. She would just need a reasonable story to justify that amount of money to Ted. It is not something trivial, to become a millionaire overnight.

She reached her destination about an hour late; everyone was gathered around the message board on the department's entrance, trying to learn who was eligible for the promotion.

"Hi, Sarah. Congratulations, you made it to the list!" Claire was excited to tell her friend about the good news.

"Thanks, Claire. I worked hard for it." Sarah faked a smile.

"We all knew you would make it, girl." Clair reassured her.

"So what level did I reach, senior consultant, director?" Sarah asked.

"That was funny, Sarah." Clair laughed. "You managed to step up from junior executive, just like you planned."

"That lying son of a bitch!" Sarah thought.

"I guess the conversation you had with the boss went well?" Claire winked at her.

"Not at all." It was Sarah's only reply.

She rushed to the elevator, and once again headed for the top floor. She wouldn't let him off the hook that easily.

"I need to speak to Mr. Malone." Sarah stated to his secretary, the one who wasn't there the night before.

"Right away, Misses ..." His secretary tried to remember her name.

"Ford!" Sarah completed, a bit harshly. She watched as the young secretary announced her over the interphone.