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A Perfect Fit

By: Melissa Matera



Missy slid her hands over her breasts and down her stomach as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She smiled as she admired her voluptuous figure. She had a body made for sin and she knew just how to use it.

The anticipation of her rendezvous with Steve's huge cock was driving her mad with lust. Her pussy salivated at the thought of his immense thick cock. Missy could hardly wait for him to arrive. They had been planning this sexual encounter forever it seemed. They had gotten together on previous occasions, where they engaged in hours and hours of foreplay and oral delights, yet they never consummated their relationship.

Setting the mood, she placed candles all over the room, lit some sensual smelling incense and put on some erotic music. She slid in between her silk sheets feeling horny and restless. Her hand instinctively slid between her legs and she traced up and down her dewy slit with one finger. Missy's other hand began teasing her breasts, caressing them and rubbing her nipples, which were now fully aroused.

She pulled the covers down revealing her lusty body. Not being able to resist, she slowly slid two fingers into her creamy hole, then she brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked her own juices off them.

She was so enraptured in pleasuring her own pussy, she never heard Steve open the door. He watched her stroking her clit to the rhythm of her thrusting hips. He smiled as he saw her quicken her pace, franticly thrusting her fingers into her beautiful pink pussy and feverishly rubbing her hot little clit. His attention then shifted to her breasts. She had incredible tits, big and round with amazingly sensitive pink nipples which were as hard as his cock was.

Suddenly she saw him and she stopped touching herself. "How long have you been there?" she asked smiling seductively.

"Long enough for you to have given me this unbelievable hard cock," he answered as he strolled over to the bed and sat down next to her.

"Good, that's just how I love your cock, baby," she replied as she rubbed his bulging crotch, then she grabbed him, pulled him down to her and kissed him passionately.

He could taste her sweet pussy on her lips. He had missed the taste of her cum. As he kissed her, his hands slid up and down her chest, fondling the nipples he loved to suck on. As he moved his mouth to her neck, he also moved his hand to her moist nether lips.

"Lay back Miss," he instructed. "I need to taste that delicious pussy."

She reclined and he spread her thighs open with his big manly hands. Still fully dressed in the suit he had arrived in, he slid down between her legs. She was already soaked from playing with herself earlier. The site of her slick shaved pink pussy made his cock ache. He slid his tongue firmly up and down her slit, parting her puffy lips more and more with each pass. From her hot and hard clit straight down to her sopping wet hole he consumed her. She moaned and thrust her hips up and down gently as his lips sucked on her clit. He then slid a finger into her deeply. He felt her muscles clamp down as she came instantly when he penetrated her.

As she caught her breath, he stood up and began to undress. She watched as he finally released her prize from his boxer briefs. It was immense. His cock was a littler bigger than average length, but it had to be double the girth of any man she had ever known. She knew when he entered her pussy, he would be able to touch secret places inside her that no man could ever reach.

He got into the bed beside her and immediately she straddled him. Sitting on top of his cock, which rested snug between her wet pussy lips. He sat up enough to suck one of her nipples deep into his mouth. She moaned as she ground her pussy onto his rock hard cock. Her wet bald pussy rubbing on his shaft made him crazed, and in one swift motion he flipped her onto her back and positioned himself between her thighs. The head of his engorged cock pressing against her clit as he kissed her long and hard. Finally she could feel the head of his huge cock pressing into her tiny hole. She drew her breath in as he slowly sunk his cock into her liquid depths.

She gasped as he stretched her open more and more, finally sinking his cock fully into her hot wet pussy.

"I knew it would fit," he said as he slowly began to pump his huge cock in and out of her cunt. She smiled and grabbed hold of his tight ass, urging him to do harder and deeper.

"My god lover, you have an amazing cock, my pussy is on fire," she whispered breathlessly. "Fuck me hard baby. I want to feel all of that gorgeous cock inside my creamy pussy."

Hearing her say that, all he could do was oblige. He threw her legs over his shoulders and plunged into her harder and faster. She was practically screaming as he massaged her clit with his thumbs while he impaled her on his massive member.

She had her hands on her tits, massaging them, pinching her pink nipples, as he rocked back and forth, in and out of her dripping wet cunt. She threw her head back as she screamed, "I'm cumming baby...ohhhhhhhhhh... yeahhhhhh...FUCK ME... HARDER... AHHHHHHHHH..."

The second he felt her pussy spasm around his cock, he too came in a shutter. "FUCK, I love your pussy baby...uuuhhhhhh...mmmmmmmmm." His thrusting subsided and he collapsed on her heaving, sweaty breasts.

She looked at him and smiled devilishly. "I always knew it would be a perfect fit."

A Perfect Fit



I own a small but elegant Haberdashery. I inherited it from my father, who inherited it from his father. I have always felt so alive in the company of men. 

I never have taken advantage of their attraction to the young, alluring shop owner. 

Until today. 

It was a beautiful spring day. So uncharacteristic for the Pacific Northwest. 

Business was so slow for the day that I had sent all but one tailor and clerk home. 

I was straightening the ties when I heard the bell of the door jingling. I looked up out of Pavlovian conditioning. My breath caught in my throat at the site of a well-dressed older gentleman. He was strikingly handsome with his tanned face silhouetted by his platinum hair. He stared past Richard ignoring the greeting the clerk offered. He was staring at me in a way that made me feel on fire. I felt myself blushing. My panties began to moisten as my whole body responded to the rush. 

I crossed the short distance to him and extended my hand as I hoarsely said 

"Welcome to my store. I am Suzanne, but I would like you to call me Suzie." 

I firmly grasped his extended hand. He gripped it so tightly my knees buckled. 

While still holding my hand he replied "It is a pleasure to meet you Suzie. Please call me John." 

His smile broadened as he looked me up and down. I was dressed conservatively, yet quite sexy. Wearing a filmy white silk blouse that wrapped around and tied in the back, you could see the delicate lace of my bra through the thin fabric. I wore a long red skirt slit above my knee, exposing fishnet stockings. A rope of vintage pearls encircled my milky white neck. My hair worn long and straight framing my face simply decorated with a stripe of dark red lipstick. I reminded him of a Vargas girl with my full breasts, small waist and round hips. 

I could not stop staring into his eyes. He was uncommonly handsome. I felt my labia swelling with desire, my nipples becoming erect as he continued to grip my hand in his. 

"What can I do for you today, John?" I asked coyly. 

"You can get me out of these clothes, Suzie. I think I need something new and exciting." John replied with a wink that made me shiver. I knew John could see my erect nipples straining against the lace and silk. He grinned and moved closer to me. 

"I will take a few measurements, and we'll get started, okay?" I said smiling. 

I reached up and slid off his suit jacket, gently sliding my fingers on his broad shoulders. I slid the measuring tape under his arms and around his chest. Feeling his firm body made me tremble. The desire was building within me, making my swollen pussy throb. I wondered if John could smell my sweet musky juices. I slid the tape down to his waist and looked into his eyes as I dragged my hand teasingly across his fly. I could feel a large bulge. His eyes half closed at the feel of my hand. 

"Well Suzie," he said grinning, "can you fit me?" 

I blushed deeper as I let out a gleeful little moan at the thought of John's cock penetrating my tight, wet pussy. 

"I think we can arrange something you will be very excited about, John." I said teasingly. "Now, follow me, please," I said as I walked toward the new arrivals. 

I selected a few Italian silk slacks and declared loud enough for Richard to hear 

"Let me give you a hand with these sir. Follow me to the fitting room." Richard grabbed the newspaper and sat down on the sofa near the door with an audible sigh. 

I led John to the fitting rooms and selected the largest one. I opened the door and allowed him to enter placing my hand on his ass as he squeezed past me. I followed him in and shut the door behind us. Dropping the silk slacks, I stepped towards him pressing him to the wall as I grabbed his face and began kissing him passionately. He kissed me back as his hands began untying my blouse. He slid his hands beneath the silk stroking my smooth skin. His tongue was dancing in my mouth making my throbbing pussy ache. I quickly undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. 

His chest was perfectly tanned, and firm. I kissed his nipples, with that he pressed his hard cock against my thigh. 

His hands slid up to undo my bra. He helped me slip out of my blouse and I dropped the bra to the floor. John sighed with pleasure at the sight of my large breasts. I began to work on unfastening his trousers as he began caressing my breasts. 

As I unzipped his trousers, he began pinching my nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefingers. I let his pants drop to his ankles revealing his hard cock sticking out at me like a pole. I gasped from the sight of his smooth glans and veiny shaft. 

I dropped to my knees and took him into my mouth. He felt so smooth and hot. I reached up under my skirt and pushed my wet panties aside. I began to finger my aching pussy as I sucked John up and down. I rolled my tongue on his head as I moved my mouth from side to side. I had to stop playing with my pussy, as I was going to explode and I wanted John to feel me cum. He played with my hair as I worked his cock. He began to pant and pulled me up off of him. 

Pulling my face up to his he said "Take off your skirt, Suzie" in a breathy voice. He kissed me as I let my skirt fall revealing my garter belt and lacy panties. John pushed me back onto the bench in the fitting room. His strong hands sliding up my thighs pushing my legs wide apart. He slipped both thumbs beneath my dripping wet panties and started rubbing my clit, I arched my back with each wave of pleasure he was sending through me. I reached for his gorgeous cock and stroked it with both of my hands. I rolled it between my palms. I could feel it swelling even more. 

He reached down to my feet and put them on his shoulders. He dropped to his knees as his fingers pulled my panties aside. He shoved his tongue into my hole so hard I bit my lip to keep from crying out in the ecstasy. I stroked his back and head shoving his face deeper into my pussy. I could hear the soft sounds of his mouth sucking on my lips, biting my clit. 

"John, I'm going to come" I moaned as I started to rock to the motion of his mouth. "Oh Suzie, you taste so good. So sweet. I'm going to make you come now." 

He began to flick my clit with his tongue as he shoved three fingers inside my quivering pussy. "I'm coming, Oh God I'm coming" I moaned as the waves of orgasmic pleasure washed over me making my legs close on his face. He forced them back open with his strong hands. He replaced his magic tongue with his fingers. 

"Do you want me to stop, Suzie?" John asked, finger fucking my spasming pussy. 

"I want you inside me John! Fuck me, oh fuck me please. John, please!" 

He pulled me to my feet and shoved me against the fitting room door. He pushed his legs between mine. Reaching down he guided his firm, hot, throbbing cock into my pussy. He let the tip slide just into my opening making me moan incoherently. His strong hands slid beneath my ass and he pulled me up onto his shaft. I wrapped my legs around him, digging my heels into his muscular ass. He slammed me against the door, forcing his massive organ deep into me. I could feel him bumpimg against my cervix. He began slowly moving in and out of me, each stroke sending a wave of blinding pleasure through my body. I could feel his leg and back muscles flexing with each powerful thrust. His whole body tensed as his orgasm exploded into me. It seemed to last for minutes as he let out a growling moan. He stopped thrusting, and pressed his whole body against mine as he shook with the force of his climax. I could feel his pulse racing in his cock. His panting breath hot and sweet on my neck. 

"Everything seems to fit perfectly, Suzie," he said with a smile.



A Perfect Fit



I smile as I look at the clock when I arrive home from work on Friday. It is 5:13 and I can put the long week I've had behind me. I turn on the stereo and I am surrounded by the sound soft, romantic music. I remove my clothes as I walk through the house. I go to the kitchen first to pour a glass of wine. I take it with me as I continue on to the bathroom to run some bath water. I am naked by the time I enter my bedroom and look into my closet to decide what to wear to the party I'm going to tonight. I leave my dress and its accessories and underwear across the bed and return to the bathroom. I add some bath oil to the tub and surround myself in the warm water.

The water, wine, and music relax me and I feel like a brand new woman when I dry myself off after stepping out of the tub. I smooth body cream into my skin before dressing. I take a look at myself before I leave. I look good but something isn't quite right. I need new shoes. Nothing in my closet is quite right so I rush from the house to go to my favorite shoe store.

I get to the store about 10 minutes before closing. There is only one employee in the store, his name tag said "Peter, manager". He greeted me and says he is the new store manager and that he will be happy to assist me in any way. I introduce myself and tell him that I'm looking for something to go with the dress I had on to wear to a party. He agreed that the shoes I had on were nice...but not quite right for the black dress I was wearing. We make small talk as I wander around the store collecting shoes to try on. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time. I give Peter the shoes I want to try on and he excuses himself to get my selections from the back of the store.

When he returns, he locks the door and turns the "Closed" sign over. "I hope you don't mind; but, since it is closing time, I decided to make sure that no one could interrupt us. You will now have my undivided attention."

I tell him that I don't mind but I felt that his undivided attention had been mine from the moment I entered the store. Peter laughed as he admits that I am correct and he complements me on my dress. I'm wearing a long straight, black dress with spaghetti straps. The dress is very simple and almost demure until you notice the split that came all the way up my left thigh and the deep v made by the back of the dress.

I sit down and Peter apparently gets a glimpse up my skirt as he slips my shoes off. At first I am somewhat embarrassed but, watching his reaction, I decide to see if I could give him an erection. I notice how fidgety he is becoming and how he keeps his gaze going to the split of my dress. I try on all the shoes I selected. Opening and closing my legs, standing up for a sexy test walk then sitting down allowing my skirt to open further on my thighs to the top of my stockings.

It seems as if I have some kind of power over him. He stares between my legs at each opportunity. His fingers seem to linger on my calves and he gently strokes them as I try on each new pair of shoes. I can clearly see the erection in his pants and feel myself becoming damp with excitement. I "accidentally" spread my legs and show him my sheer black panties at every opportunity. He finally has enough of my teasing and as he lifts my leg to place yet another shoe, he pulls my foot into his crotch and rubs it around.

I can feel his throbbing erection through his trousers. My heart begins to race as I continue to rub his hardness with my foot. I spread my legs slowly so that he can get a good view up my dress and into the crotch of my panties. We watch each other mesmerized as he rubs his stiff member through his pants. His eyes never leave my crotch and I feel myself getting wetter and hotter.

He takes my hand and says "There are some styles in the back which you might like." There is a small lounge area in the back with an old love seat and a couple of chairs. I sit on the love seat. You pull up one of the small shoe store stools and again sits at my feet. Once again I place my foot on his crotch and he proceeds to massage my calves...rubbing my silky hose and moving up my leg. With my toes I squeeze and pinch his swollen penis and feel it throb with excitement. My legs are spread open, my skirt has risen way up my thighs, exposing the tops of my hose, my garters and my pantied crotch.

Losing myself in the moment, I slowly mouth "Show me how hard you are". Dutifully, he releases my leg and unzips his pants. He reaches in and pulls out a very nice specimen. Slowly running his hand up and down the turgid shaft, it begins to swell and pulse with excitement. My own fingers reach under the elastic of my panties and I start to rub myself. I am so wet that I even feel the wetness on the back of my hand as it rubs the crotch of my panties. We watch one another masturbate as our passions rise.

He stands and moves toward me, straddling my hips and aiming his hard shaft at my mouth. Up this close I can smell his musky scent. A drop of clear liquid hovers in the slit at the top of his manhood. My fingers push into my hot box as my tongue reaches out to beckon him inside. My mouth is filled with the heat of his burning member as I slather it with my tongue. I circle the head and lick the pre cum from the tiny slit.

I suck, lick and kiss him while I continue to finger myself. Peter is humping my face and I can feel him growing larger and harder. With one hand I fondle his balls while the other wraps itself around his shaft, pumping it into my mouth. I sense that he is about to explode. I feel him begin to tense. His penis seems to grow larger in my mouth just before I feel a final lunge and my mouth is filled with a warm salty taste as he explodes into me. I feel it ooze out of my mouth and onto this shaft I pulled my mouth away. I watch, mesmerized, as he spews spurt after spurt.

This is not the end.....merely, a good place to stop for now. I will write more later if you liked this. Or is this too tame? I hope to hear from you sine this is only my second post.



A Perfect Fit



My dreams are always surreal, but very rarely involve sex of any kind. So, when the image that inspired this story cropped up for a few seconds one night, it stood out in later recollection. I decided that it just might be worth fleshing out... so to speak. 

...

As he carried in his carry-out dinner, he immediately noticed the glow coming into the darkened kitchen from the living room of his condominium. Many people would not have been sure if they had left a light on, but his career demanded meticulous attention to detail. The fact that the alarm showed no signs of tampering was another bad omen.

Silently placing the boxes of Chinese food on the counter, he glanced at the phone. The line appeared to still be live; it hadn't been cut. As expected, the message light wasn't blinking. He had little contact with his family and the nature of his work discouraged socializing. 

All this had taken scant seconds. He drew the gun from his shoulder holster and advanced to the doorway. Flashy home ambushes were vastly more common in fiction than reality, and any operative sent for assassination would be unlikely to be clumsy enough to make his presence so obvious... but that was no reason not to be careful. He hadn't been in this kind of situation in years, but it was like riding a bicycle. The muscles remembered. 

He quickly peeked around the corner, and jerked back to review what he'd glimpsed. One man, sitting casually in the recliner, a book held open on his lap. No obvious weapons or backup.

"I am unarmed, Mr. Harper," came the voice from the living room. "Please, come in. I am anxious to finally meet you." A rich, cultured baritone with a faint accent; Portuguese, or maybe Spanish. Latin American, certainly. But it had been close to a decade since he'd been stationed in South America... 

He stepped in cautiously, eyes roving, gun at the ready. After a rapid survey of the room, he moved to a secure point with a view of all entrances and adopted a classic two-handed Weaver stance, targeting the intruder's chest. "All right, you have sixty seconds to explain why you should live."

A slight, Mona-Lisa smile had appeared on the man's face. He was middle-aged; probably in his late forties but in excellent shape. Dark hair, slim mustache, a Latin cast to the skin; the suit he wore was impeccably styled. He seemed entirely at ease; either he was running an impressive bluff or else he was supremely confident. "My business will take rather longer than that, I fear."

"So far, you're not convincing me. Fifty seconds." 

"I suppose introductions are in order. You, of course, are Stephen William Harper, former field operative and current intelligence analyst at the CIA. My name is Vinicius Filinto Henriques Ferreira. Does the name remind you of anything?"

"Nothing in particular. Thirty seconds." 

"Perhaps you recall my niece, Juilia Carmina Melo Ferreira?"

A split second to look up the name in his memory, then he squeezed the trigger - the muscles never forgot. But nothing happened. It dawned on him that his hands were empty. The gun was gone. No... he grabbed for the weight at his shoulder, and found the gun back in its holster. The handle felt cool as he yanked it out again, as if he hadn't been holding it at all. Alarmed, he re-targeted the man one-handed and tried to fire. 

Again, his hand was empty. Thoroughly confused, he saw the gun, holster and all, sitting on the end table next to Vinicius. He began to feel actual nervousness. Whatever else was going on, Ferreira was clearly an amateur; professionals avoided such drama. A frightened operative was dangerous. 

"I see you do remember. Excellent reflexes, by the way." The smile was full and condescending now. "They are, however, quite useless against me, as you can see."

Steve was understandably unnerved, but a former Army Ranger didn't give up easily, whatever the situation. He stalled for time. "What exactly is your game here?" he asked as he shifted his weight. 

"My 'game' is perfectly..." He stopped short as Steve made his move, leaping forward and swinging the base of his hand in a short arc calculated to snap the man's neck. It failed to connect and he struggled to keep his balance. He numbly registered that he was back on the other side of the room, and Ferreira was well out of reach. 

There was a pause as the two men regarded each other, displaying equally startled expressions. Then Ferreira burst out laughing.

Steve felt a flicker of panic this time, but he clamped down on the emotion with long-practiced surety and maintained control. Clearly there was something going on here he didn't understand. Until he could sort things out, he'd allow Ferreira to think he was in charge.

Cooly, he bit out, "That's a neat trick. How's it work?"

Ferreira, too, had regained his composure - though his eyes still twinkled. "Magic, of course," he stated matter-of-factly. 

Hearing, out loud, the word that had been rattling in the back of his mind was oddly calming. Now Steve was sure it was an angle, a con. An impressive effect, to be sure, and he was definitely in trouble... but that would make it even more valuable after he'd turned the tables, somehow. "Riiiiight..." he drawled. 

"Your disbelief is quite understandable, even under the circumstances. Most 'mystics' are fools or madmen or charlatans. Only a few, a very few, know how to contact the... entities that lie beyond this plane, and fewer still dare to face the terrible risks and costs of such contact. I myself would not have attempted it..." he trailed off, and favored Steve with an icy stare. Steve had been a ruthless handler for over seven years, and a soldier and 'wet-work' field operative for nine years before that. He still felt a thrill of anxiety at that stare. 

"...but you and your people... inspired me." 

Again, stalling for time was called for. "It was nothing personal. I wasn't even..." Steve began. 

"Spare me," Ferreira interrupted. "I know she meant nothing to you. But I am here to make it personal." 

It had been a minor incident midway in Steve's career with the agency. He doubted he'd even thought of the operation three times since then, but now he wracked his brain for details. He'd been acting as station chief in Brazil at the time; he'd assigned one of his operatives seduce and turn a young secretary at the then-newly-formed ABIN (Brazil's current intelligence service). They'd been able to intercept and cut off a mole from an allied country with the information she'd turned over. There had been no way to hide where the tip had come from, however, so he'd transferred his agent to another country and cut the secretary - Julia Ferreira - loose. 

"Do you know what happened to her after you monsters played with her heart? No, you never bothered to check. She fell into despair, still pining for your snake of an agent. Then she took to drugs, and came apart quickly. She was killed on the street by her pimp, less than a year after your little triumph." The bitterness and venom in his voice confirmed that Ferreira was definitely not going to be professional about this. 

He paused for a moment, reflecting, sadness and regret writ large on his expressive face. "Julia had been very dear to me. I could not have loved her more had she been my own. When I returned from my travels she was gone, and my brother, her father, was a broken man."

His attention returned to the present, as he looked up at Steve. "I swore vengeance that day. It has taken years to prepare, years full of dark deeds and fearsome bargains. But I gained the power to find those who had wronged my blood, and give to them my wrath." 

"I know you're angry," Steve said, placatingly. "But as I said, I wasn't personally involved. I never even met..." 

Ferreira cut him off. "What is the phrase? 'The buck stops here?' You approved it, oversaw it. You are responsible."

"I'd think you'd be a lot more pissed off at the guy who actually carried out the..." 

Another brusque interruption: "He has already been dealt with. Simply to get the attention of what are commonly called 'demons' requires... certain sacrifices." He radiated grim satisfaction. Steve had always been good at reading people; it was a vital part of his job, and indeed a survival skill in his profession. Very few people, even pros, could lie to his face. Ferreira was not a pro; obviously a passionate man, he wore his heart on his sleeve. 

Steve knew now that he wasn't lying. This man really believed what he was saying. Given what had already happened in the past few minutes, he couldn't be sure the stranger was actually insane. Of course, if he weren't, it might be worse... 

Ferreira was speaking. "I give to you now my curse. You shall know what Julia knew, feel all she felt. You, too, shall betray your country for love." He smiled. "And I shall be the instrument of your downfall. The beings I have bargained with are far beyond the human. They do not fit in our little categories of 'good' or 'evil', they are truly incomprehensible. But I have met their price, and they are not without a sense of humor. Together we determined a punishment exactly tailored to your crime. " 

He gestured, and Steve felt a fleeting moment of dizziness; his vision blurred for an instant, then resharpened. It was almost too short to recognize. He stood for a few heartbeats, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but nothing else happened. He exhaled, only then realizing he'd been holding his breath. 

"Fuck, you almost had me..." the rest of the words died in his throat as he focused on Vinicius. The stranger with the jet-black hair and fiery eyes suddenly seemed larger, more powerful, more threatening, more compelling. He wanted to look away, and yet he found himself staring, fascinated and frightened, as Vinicius laughed out loud. The sound seemed undefinably different, confusing and absorbing in some new way... 

As Vinicius spoke, Steve was transfixed by stirring overtones in that deep voice that he had missed before. "You do not even yet realize your fate. Go, examine yourself. Your manhood." He chuckled again. 

Steve turned away slightly, still furtively glancing at the disturbingly striking intruder. His manhood? What did that... In a flash, his hand was at the crotch of his trousers. For several seconds he probed, terror mounting. Something was wrong. Where was it? His hand plunged under his waistband, reaching down. He didn't find what should have been there... but further down, he found something else, something his brain refused to process for what seemed a very long time. 

There was a pussy there. He had a pussy. The thought floated on the surface of his mind, unmoored and alien, refusing to sink in. He fled Vinicius's mocking laughter, racing to the bathroom. He knocked the door closed and tore his pants down. 

Sight did what touch alone could not, driving understanding home. There in the mirror was a slit between his legs, partly concealed by his bushy pubic hair... and nothing else. His form seemed otherwise unchanged; the same clean-shaven, chiseled face, the same toned arms and legs. But the one difference outweighed the others. He was a man with a vagina. The world wobbled. He recognized the sensation from when he'd been shot early in his career... he was going into shock. 

After a while - he wasn't sure how long - he tentatively reached down to feel it. His fingers reported the usual sensations he recognized from countless sessions with women in the past. But the data coming directly from his crotch was impossible to integrate, nonsensical at first. 

Vinicius pushed open the door, his cruel amusement unmistakable. Again Steve was struck by something newly unsettling about his tormentor, something gripping that further strained his already barely-held composure. He mustered his courage and barked out, "What the fuck is going on? What kind of bullshit trick is this?" But he couldn't keep all the hysteria he felt out of his voice, spoiling the effect. 

"It is all real, I assure you. All that and more. As I shall now demonstrate." He stepped forward and stood behind Steve, so they were both facing the mirror. He took hold of Steve's face, turning it forward. Steve saw Vinicius's reflected eyes boring into his own, and could not look away. Some part of himself wondered why he wasn't even trying to attack Vinicius, but the idea was somehow... impossible. He could no longer make himself believe he could ever overpower the commanding gentleman, even without the protective magic. Vinicius reached around and began unbuttoning Steve's shirt, unhurried. He slipped it off and dropped it onto the floor. Then he pulled the t-shirt up and over Steve's head; he unthinkingly lifted his arms to help. Resistance never even occurred to him. 

Another change was apparent now; his nipples were larger, and the areolas around them had greatly expanded. It was bizarre seeing those erect feminine nipples on his hairy, muscled chest. Dread filled him as Vinicius's hand reached up and approached one. He gasped involuntarily as his strange tormentor began to gently stroke and tweak the rapidly-stiffening nubs. 

It felt incredible, amazing. He looked at Vinicius in the mirror and was again captured by those striking, arresting eyes. He could not even think of looking away, though the contempt he saw in them made him feel small and helpless. His knees trembled. His breath came faster now, and when Vinicius pinched a nipple it pushed a low moan from deep in his throat. 

Vinicius's other hand reached around at waist level, its target unmistakable. A wild mix of terror and anticipation shot through Steve's heart, which was hammering in his chest. The world slowed to a crawl as Steve realized what was about to happen... and realized how powerless he was to prevent it... and realized how darkly exciting he found it to be so utterly at the mercy of this cruel, powerful man. 

Then fingers grazed teasingly across his vulva, and he inhaled sharply, hissing. He could sense how wet he was, how his newly-traitorous body ached to be touched there, and much more forcefully. His hips bucked forward slightly, involuntarily, but he couldn't bring himself to move more than that. He wondered how he could feel so weak and so frozen in place at the same time. 

A digit glided along his moistened slit and he openly whimpered. He wished he could push it away but he simply leaned back into the firm arms of his captor, and allowed himself to be felt up. The well-lubricated finger slid over his clit and he yelped with pleasure, his head rocking back and his eyes closing unconsciously. His world narrowed, centered on the new chasm at his groin. His nipples sent random sparks of pleasure as he opened his legs as wide as they could go, limited by the pants around his ankles. 

He could hear himself moaning and whining like a bitch in heat, though he was not truly conscious of anything but the ecstasy being forced on him, growing exponentially. But then he felt a mustached face rub against his ear and his eyes snapped open. He saw himself draped across Vinicius, as his iron hands mercilessly roamed across Steve's strangely mixed new flesh. He saw himself writhing, excited... wanton. The musk of an aroused female filled the air, and the understanding that it came from him somehow added to the excitement. He felt so naked, so exposed. But most of all, he saw Vinicius watching, dominating him in every way, making him into his plaything. It was Vinicius' proud face that triggered his orgasm.

It was far more intense than any he'd had before. It swept him away utterly, carrying him in wave after irresistible wave until they receded enough for him to be aware of his surroundings again. He discovered himself collapsed, panting desperately, bent over the counter in front of the mirror, legs wobbling, barely managing to remain upright. His pussy (there could be no denying its reality now) was still quivering in erratic little spasms, forcing hitching gasps each time, as the fingers withdrew. They slid around his hips, leaving a wet trail of his own juices. 

He raised his head with effort. Vinicius was there in the mirror, triumphant, gloating. Steve felt utterly humiliated, conquered. Before, the few times he'd made a mistake or been outmaneuvered, it had filled him with rage. Anger would not come, now; only despair, and - doubly hateful - a strange and confusing acceptance, even satisfaction. 

All these emotions flashed through his mind in a whirl, before Vinicius' had fully stood up. Steve watched his violator survey his victim, clearly enjoying the helpless expression he could not suppress on his face. He felt himself blushing - blushing - but he could not look away from those enthralling eyes. 

Alarm filled him as Vinicius ran a hand down his ass and began exploring his lips once more, now from behind. "No, please, no more..." he pleaded, hating the submissive, supplicating tone in his voice - but unable to sound, or even feel, more assertive. 

A stern look from Vinicius and he no longer dared even beg. Firm digits teased and probed anew; more swiftly than he would have believed possible - faster than any man could ever recover - he was groaning uncontrollably. He'd seen women have multiple orgasms before (or, at least, he was as sure as a man can be that they weren't faked), but experiencing one was entirely different. His second orgasm was as devastating as the first. He wasn't able to remain upright this time, and he fell to the floor on hands and knees. 

As he knelt there, panting, he felt the tears come. He hadn't cried since childhood but everything was racing out of control. He looked up wildly at Vinicius and was no longer able to deny what was so upsetting about him - he was gorgeous, breathtakingly handsome. Steve was observing everything about the man in an entirely new light. The proud, aristocratic features; broad shoulders; strong hands (his new nether anatomy twitched at the sight, almost yearningly); trim waist and belly without a hint of paunch; long legs... 

He let out a sob, despair mixed with unwanted but undeniable longing. 

Vinicius watched him cry for a time, an appreciative grin on his face. "Now I think you see. At least, a little." His voice sent chills up Steve's spine. It was beautiful, mesmerizing. Sexy.

"Ate amanha," Vinicius said, mockingly. He walked out of the room without a backward glance, but Steve's eyes were riveted on his firm, tight rear. Moments later, he heard the front door open and close. 

Steve lay on the cold bathroom floor, weeping quietly, for a long time. 

...

Eventually he recovered enough self-possession to get up and pull on his clothes; he didn't look in the mirror. He robotically checked the house. Everything seemed secure - though he wondered if he'd ever feel secure again. All that he'd ever believed about reality, about himself, seemed to be crumbling. He found his dinner sitting in the kitchen where he'd left it, a lifetime ago. He sat down heavily on a stool and began mechanically eating the cold noodles, trying to think. 

He'd gone through training to resist many forms of torture. He'd been in combat several times, and he hadn't cracked then. Sure, he'd been rattled and off-balance by the gun disappearing and... such, but he would never have just surrendered like that, not for anything. Obviously the changes were more than physical. 

The physical was bad enough. He didn't need to touch himself to notice that things were... off. His shirt rubbed his new nipples in an odd way. Even as he thought about it he could see points rising, visible under the cloth. And his briefs were disturbingly loose. Just walking around pointed out a conspicuous absence. 




A Perfect Fit



But when he thought about what had happened in the bathroom... the shock was immediately mixed with a resurgence of excitement, of lust. Some new part of him had liked it, had fed on the delicious helplessness. And thoughts of Vinicius himself sparked an even more chaotic flurry of emotion. 

As long as he thought in the abstract... if he thought about someone stealing his dick, and toying with his mind, and finger-fucking him, he could be properly indignant, even outraged. But if he thought specifically that Vinicius had done so, his fury collapsed. 

Remembering the man's hands, so surely and confidently reducing him to jelly, caused his skin to flush and his breath to come more rapidly. He was scared to be angry at Vinicius. (Steve finally, absently noticed that he wasn't using the man's surname anymore, even in his thoughts.) He was commanding, intimidating, and alluring... and each fed into the others. He knew that it was wrong, but it didn't feel wrong to be aroused by, and attracted to, his sheer animal power. 

Steve finished eating and made his way to the living room, intending to sit on the couch. Before he'd arrived there he'd changed his mind. He had to understand his situation, figure out what was going on. Unknowns were dangerous, and his own body was now a critical unknown. He went upstairs, closed the blinds, and took off his clothes. There was a mirror over the dresser. 

Aside from the nipples and his crotch, things seemed the same. He was a bizarre mix - a fit, lean man with women's genitals. He walked about in a small circle and confirmed a suspicion he'd developed - his gait had changed slightly, his hips were subtly reconfigured - not wider, just shaped differently. A quick, experimental snap-kick revealed unexpected flexibility, it reached inches higher than his previous limit. He wasn't unusually hairy for a man, but his legs looked strange beneath that clearly feminine groin. 

Reluctantly he examined the... vagina between his legs. The task proved to be more difficult than he'd anticipated; he ended up laying on the bed with a hand mirror. Aside from its terrifying location, it proved to be a disquietingly normal example of the type. Pert, symmetrical lips; a cute clitoris demurely hiding beneath its hood. A short distance within there was even what had to be a hymen. He would have found it attractive, placed in other surroundings. 

The attention of his hands, however, was causing it to stir alarmingly. He bolted off the bed with alacrity and wiped off his fingers. He moved to the mirror, shifting attention to his nipples. Again, except for their placement, they were entirely typical out to the edge of the areolas: at that point his normal chest hair reappeared. They were by now erect and firm, and sensitive to his exploratory contact. Somehow they seemed connected to the awakening flesh below, bestirring his arousal further. 

It felt so good. In his imagination, Vinicius' magnetic eyes watched him as one hand descended and began to rub his new lips and clit. His back arched, almost involuntarily. He began to picture himself putting on a show, displaying his submission, affirming what Vinicius had made of him... his toy, his pet, his... his slut. Steve's sighs waxed into moans and then shrieks as he came again, almost as violently as before. 

As the pleasure faded he came to a sick realization of how thoroughly the hooks had sunk into his very being. Gathering the scraps of his willpower, he pulled his hands away from his still-eager, throbbing flesh and fought to calm down. It took time, much time, but eventually he'd restored some sense of equilibrium. 

As noted, Steve was not one for surrendering. He assailed the problem from many angles as the evening wore on, but it was like there were now trapdoors scattered across his mind. Considering certain aspects or specifics of his situation would drop him down a slippery ramp toward shuddering lust, and only immediate and frantic effort would keep him from entertaining dangerous fantasies... and succumbing to them. His pussy's appetite and aptitude for pleasure displayed no apparent limits as the night wore on. It took a firm and careful rein on his own thoughts, consideration of the issues only in the most general terms, to retain his self-control. 

He went to bed, very late, demoralized and without even a vague idea how he could proceed. Even that was disquieting; normally he slept naked, but he found that he needed a shirt to protect his... chest from unwanted stimulation. He feared what tomorrow would bring... but the despised new parts of his psyche felt a cloudy anticipation, too. 

...

Steve woke at the sound of his alarm and sat up. There was no confusion about his circumstances; it had been a restless, fitful night, and from the few snippets he could recall it was perhaps a mercy that he didn't clearly remember his dreams. But the bed was wet where his crotch had lain. 

He showered, briefly and unthinkingly; he could not risk devoting too much attention to his altered body... but he also couldn't go to work smelling like he did. He pondered calling in sick but he didn't want to stay home where it was clear he could be easily gotten to. He chose a stiff, thick shirt, hoping it would hide the nubs on his chest if they awoke. The rest of his morning ritual was comforting in a way, but tension underlaid the whole proceedings. He wrestled with the decision he had to make all along his drive to work. Presenting his credentials as usual, he was admitted to the secured areas and he sat down to go over his morning briefings and case reports. 

In the end, he couldn't do it. He came close, several times, to alerting his boss that he'd been compromised. But he never quite made it to Edwards' office. It wasn't just that it was career suicide; he had a strong sense of duty and patriotism, and was willing to put that over his own ambitions... if only barely. But acknowledging what had happened... exposing his complete humiliation to others... it was just too much. Telling his superiors that he'd been magically castrated - telling anyone - well, no man could face that without pause. He'd be probed, studied, examined. Treated like a lab animal. And snickered at... 

Work, too, was reassuring. He was incredibly relieved to confirm that he wasn't looking at other men in a sexual way. Thoughts of Vinicius' appearance had to be quickly stifled for the shivers they brought, but his co-workers were just other guys. Just as happily, he still found women attractive... though if he went too far in that vein, he started to feel his fantasies and desires warp in unfamiliar directions. Still, he could function on a business level. In many ways his day went entirely normally. 

But he felt like an imposter going into the men's room, walking past the urinals and sitting at a toilet to pee. Wiping was emotionally but not physically excruciating. 

He took a chance and did some digging on Vinicius, striving to adopt a mindset of abstract research, though it was hard to maintain; his interest was more than academic, after all. Still, there was little to discover; mostly travel records. He'd apparently never attracted much official attention. A Brazilian citizen from a well-off family. Studied anthropology and history abroad in several countries. Well-traveled since then, too - he'd been on every continent, including Antarctica. It wasn't clear where his money came from, but Steve didn't dare initiate a more thorough search that might be noticed. No known ties to any organizations of interest. 

He stayed later than usual, putting off the inevitable. Deviating from routine too much might draw attention from the internal agency watchdogs, however, which he could not afford in his current predicament. He ate dinner out, dread and excitement mounting simultaneously. When he pulled into his garage, his stomach was churning with the volatile mix of desire and fear. He was mentally rehearsing what he'd say and how he'd react if Vinicius was there... but he had little confidence that he'd actually be able to follow through. 

He entered the kitchen gingerly, and when he saw that the living room was dark he was pierced to the heart with relief... and disappointment. He recognized that he was psyching himself out, but the rigid grasp he'd always kept on his emotions was getting rather frayed. 

A quick tour showed that the ground floor was as he'd left it. He felt more reassured still as he went up the stairs and saw that the lights were off. Again, a survey cleared the area. He stood in the bedroom, glad to be spared a confrontation... or mostly glad, at least. 

He almost screamed when the voice came from behind. "Good evening, Mr. Harper." Displaying the reflexes he'd been complimented on last night, he whirled around in a flash. 

Vinicius sat in the chair in the corner, casual and relaxed. Once again Steve was transfixed by the man's handsome appearance, even as his mind frantically tried to account for his sudden presence. The Brazilian had not been there when he'd swept the room seconds ago. 

"You... I don't... Please, leave me alone..." It was hard to talk, to think; he just wanted to drink in that amazing face, that lean body. He knew that he should be shouting, cursing, but he suddenly felt so confused. All of the strong words he'd planned had dissolved, vanished. His nipples were perking up, so hard and sharp that his shirt couldn't conceal them. It was embarrassing, but part of him wanted Vinicius to know how turned on he was becoming. 

"Hush." At the word Steve's feeble protests ended and he fell silent, abashed. "I promised I would come today, and I am, as they say, a man of my word." The white, even teeth flashed by his grin were captivating. "Are you truly so sad to see me?"

Given leave to speak, he cried "Yes!", his voice breaking. He remembered the root of the term 'hysteria' and almost despaired. "You... changed me... attacked me..." He could feel himself flushing, lubricating, at the images in his mind.

A mock frown wrinkled his brow. "Indeed? I don't recall spirited opposition." He almost leered then, but somehow even that was... sophisticated, coming from him. "It must have been terrible." 

The warmth he felt on his face... he must be bright red. "I didn't... You... I wouldn't have..." He didn't know what to do with his hands. 

"What did I do that was so upsetting?" 

"You... touched me, held me... felt me..." 

"That doesn't sound so fearsome." The feigned puzzlement gave way to a serious expression. "Show me. What did I do that offended you so?" 

"Please, don't make me..." 

"Show me," he ordered, in a tone like steel. 

Steve collapsed inside. He could not stand up to Vinicius, he was like a physical force. Where had his willpower gone? Yesterday he had been a cold-blooded killer. Now he was timid and bashful... and his blood was anything but cold. 

With trembling fingers he reached up to his chest and pinched his nipples through the shirt. "First, you squeezed my... my chest..." 

Sternly: "No." 

It took him a second. He quailed within, but he felt his still-alien clitoris swell when he understood what Vinicius meant. The holster slipped off and was cast away; slowly, he began to unbutton his shirt. "You... you took off my shirt, like this." It fell to the floor. 

"And then?" 

He looked away shyly. "You took off my undershirt." Slowly he pulled it over his head and dropped it softly to the ground. 

"Did I? What did I do after that?" 

"You squeezed my nipples." He began to play with the strange, stiff nubs on his chest, marveling at the sensations they evoked. It was like an erection, but more concentrated, and there were two of them, and they seemed to be connected to everywhere. His pussy was flushed, straining... 

Vinicius allowed this to go on for some time. Steve was moaning softly; he'd never made much noise during sex before, but the feelings swamping him demanded expression. Eventually, his audience queried, "You find this unpleasant, then?" 

Lying was out of the question. "No," he whispered. 

"What was that?" 

Compelled, he spoke in a loud, husky voice. "No." 

"How does it feel?" 

The delay was brief, barely perceptible. "Good, oh God, so good," he panted. "I like it." Why had he added that? It was true, but it felt so... naughty to admit it. 

Vinicius' frown had returned. "We must explore further, then, and find what upset you so." He seemed so casual, and yet Steve couldn't imagine refusing him. "What happened next?" 

"You... you touched me. Down there." 

"Where?" Like a schoolteacher, eliciting the proper answer. 

"On my... my pussy." Oh, God, why did it feel so good to say it? 

"How could I?" The accent was so charming... "You are still wearing pants." 

He was suffused with embarrassment; he hadn't been reenacting things properly... and then, as he became aware of that thought, he was embarrassed by how thoroughly involved he'd become in Vinicius' game. But it couldn't shake him loose of the control; indeed, his breath came faster as he began to unbuckle his belt. "I'm sorry, sir." The honorific just slipped out, naturally, without a conscious decision. 

He kicked off his shoes, one by one, and eased the pants down; slowly, flirtatiously. He realized he was doing a striptease for the man who'd stolen his maleness. Where resentment, where rage should have been, there was only shame... and a growing, dazed wonder at how erotic it all was. 

He stepped out of the pants and turned slightly as he began to slide off his briefs, gradually. It was indescribably exciting, so sexy. His reservations meant nothing anymore, they hardly registered; he was in another world now, where other rules applied. The only anxiety he felt was fear that Vinicius wouldn't find him attractive. 

His audience simply regarded him, infinitely superior, a lord surveying a peasant. Steve kicked the briefs away with a flair and ran a hand down his belly toward his...his snatch, his twat. It was on fire, he was on fire. It didn't feel alien now; it was too powerful, too deeply rooted to be anything but part of his being. 

He fell to his knees, legs spread. He plumbed the strange and wonderful new convolutions of his crotch, feeling the delicious slippery friction, hearing the slurping wetness, smelling his own new musk. All for Vinicius, who had ignited this glorious conflagration within him. He gave voice to passionate moans and whines; he had no control, it was was if his pussy was crying out directly. 

It was so much like his fantasy of the night before that he wondered if Vinicius could read his mind. As he raised his head and gazed into those oh-so-compelling eyes, he felt as if they were peering into his very soul, that every secret within him was laid bare before this irresistible presence. He felt tiny and humble... and unbelievably hot. 

A hint of a smile on that face; he knew, he must know. "Oh, oh God, oh please, oh my Gooood!" Again his climax was intense and cataclysmic and unmanned him, completely and literally. 

As a man an orgasm had been a final thing; once he had come, arousal dropped precipitously, and didn't return for a time. His new parts didn't have that limitation; arousal receded somewhat, but came nowhere near zero. He was still hungry, starving for more. 

It was enough for him to remember how degrading this all was, though... or at least, how degrading it should have felt. There was barely a flicker of resentment, however. He was ashamed... but eager.

Vinicius was smiling broadly. "That didn't appear so upsetting. Tell me, how do you feel?" 

He didn't even want to lie. "Hot," he panted. "Sexy." 

"You enjoyed that, did you?" 

"Yes," he admitted coquettishly. He was flirting!

"Do you wish me to leave now?" 

"No!" he anxiously and unthinkingly exclaimed. 

"Well, then, I appear to have done you a favor. It is only right that you repay my kindness," Vinicius admonished sternly. 

Steve suffered a thrill of terror. He thought he knew where this was headed, but he realized that he was too worked up, too far gone, to refuse Vinicius now. He'd do practically anything... and understanding that, he felt himself become even wetter. 

The man stood up from his chair. "Come, approach me." 

Steve began to stand, but the words came sharply. "On your knees." 

He crawled forward, face burning, but whimpering with lust. To Steve, Vinicius looked... magnificent from down on the floor. His submission was total. He reached Vinicius' feet and stopped, trembling. Unbidden, he bowed his head. He could feel juices running into his pubic hair, onto his belly... 

The moment stretched... and then he called down. "Remove my shoes." 

He reached forward. "Yes..." 

Viciously: "Yes, what?" Steve paused. It was appalling how little resistance he could mount, how the words were squeezed out of him. 

"Yes, Master." He shivered. The cool air running over his naked skin, perking his nipples... it did nothing, he was still so hot... 

The shoes came off, one by one. The pungent smell should have been off-putting... but it was arousing instead. It was his Master's smell. 

"Now, the pants." 

He reached up, fumbling for a moment, unhooking the belt, pulling it free. His hands grew surer. The pants had a single button, easily undone. The sound of the zipper descending made him shiver again. He wanted this. It didn't feel like the desires were being imposed from without. It was like he was awakening to parts of himself that had always been there, latent, waiting for the proper time to stir and bloom. It felt natural, right, and wonderful. 

He pulled the pants down. Vinicius wore boxers. That struck Steve as more manly than briefs... and that was somehow more sexy. He was gratified to see that, despite Vinicius' affected detachment, he was sporting a prominent erection, stretching the sleek fabric. Steve wanted desperately to please him. 

There was something else he wanted desperately, too. He leaned forward and took hold of the boxers with his teeth. The smell was intoxicating, the feel of the smooth cloth against his cheek was delicious. It had to be real silk. Slowly he descended, slipping the undergarment to Vinicius' ankles to join the pants. He sat up again and regarded his Master's cock. 

Intellectually, he knew he should have been disgusted, repulsed; that awareness was purely abstract, however. In reality, it was concretely fascinating. It was somehow more immediate, more impressive, more real than any he'd seen before. He'd never inspected any prick so closely or intently in his life, not even his own. It was... not beautiful, exactly, but... enticing. Stimulating. Suggestive. It was uncircumcised and the head glistened slightly, extending out past the retracted foreskin. Master's pubic hair reminded him of nothing so much as the mane of a proud lion. The balls hung low in the scrotum, too masculine for words. 

"Touch it." Was Vinicius' voice just a bit throaty, a fraction strained? Steve hoped so. He needed no further encouragement, and gently took hold of the member. It felt amazing, strong, powerful. It might as well have been electrified for the tingling that ranged through his whole body at the contact. He stroked it gently for a time, marveling at the feeling, and at his own enthusiasm. Admiring the naked lower half before him, he wondered what an entirely unclothed Vinicius would look like, and hoped to find out soon. He was ready to do more, much more, but despite his straining anticipation, he could not dream of proceeding without permission. 




A Perfect Fit



Permission was not long in coming. "Suck it," Vinicius instructed. There was no doubt the voice was husky now, despite the authority in the inflection. Quickly but deferentially, Steve took the head into his mouth and began to gently suck and lick. He wracked his brains for tricks that women had used on him before. Odd, he hadn't thought of his own erstwhile member until now... it seemed absurd, silly, to miss it when he had this spectacular penis to play with now. 

The tastes and smells were delightful, ambrosial. The feel as he took in more and more was... fulfilling, in a way he'd never imagined before. No tongue had ever reached so deeply, had ever stimulated so many senses at once. Everything simply... fit. Clicked. He wondered why he'd never wanted to do this before. It was sexy, and fun! 

He could feel it get harder as he worked, and he heard Master breathing deeply. He opened his eyes and was presented with a view of a blowjob he'd never expected to see, but which was profoundly erotic. He realized he was gasping and moaning himself as he slurped with unabashed pleasure. He ran his hands up Master's legs and placed his hands on the ass he found, pulling himself as close as he could, trying to get that majestic prick as deep in his throat as possible. Master let out a gasp, and then he began to come. 

Steve had heard that some women could orgasm without direct stimulation, by emotion and fantasy alone. Tasting Vinicius' cum, feeling his cock pulse in his mouth, knowing that he had succeeded, drove Steve wild. He drew as much joy from the knowledge that he had made his Master come as he did from the waves of heat and pleasure radiating across his body as he wriggled his hips. He greedily swallowed every last drop, and for the longest time felt nothing but a glow of satisfaction and perverse pride. 

Vinicius, for his part, was silent - apart from heavy breathing - for almost a minute. He watched mutely as Steve tenderly licked and milked his wilting penis, ensuring that not a drop of semen spilled. Steve couldn't tell what he might be thinking. His normal sensitivity was overwhelmed by his powerful emotions, his ardor to please and to submit. He took the lack of countermanding orders as tacit permission to keep kissing and enjoying his Master's delightful cock. 

Unexpectedly, without warning, Vinicius shoved him down. Steve, taken by surprise, fell onto his side. He looked up, shocked. He'd been trying so hard to make Master happy... 

Vinicius glared for a moment, then turned away, reaching down to pull on his clothes. He didn't look at his victim for what seemed a long time. Steve simply lay where he had fallen, unsure. Eventually Vinicius sat back in the chair and regarded him coldly 

The game was over, clearly. Steve was disappointed - he was still very aroused - and confused. But he was far too intimidated to do more than collect himself off the floor and wait - kneeling, head bowed - for Vinicius to say something. 

Finally, he spoke. "How does it feel? To be so humiliated? To be a cocksucker?" The word could have been wickedly sexy, but the tone robbed it of any pleasure. His voice was spiteful, poisonous. He glared; hateful, furious. Steve quailed inside. 

"Please, I'm sorry, I don't... I didn't mean to..." He felt the tears welling up in his eyes. He was so frightened; what could he have done to upset Vinicius so? 

"Enough!" his tormentor barked. He was silent a few seconds more, and then he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Having regained his composure somewhat, he spoke again. His voice was more controlled, but still cold. "It would appear your reluctance was more feigned than real." 

With his lust dwindling, Steve found himself able to think a bit more like his usual self. He had recovered a tiny amount of indignation. "It's magic making me do this. What's your excuse?" He wished he could sound accusatory instead of merely petulant. 

Vinicius smiled indulgently, his good humor apparently restored for the present. "True, those of us driven to explore the limits of reality often go beyond conventional strictures in other areas. I freely admit that my sexual tastes are unusual, but the beings I... 'contracted with' care nothing for what humans consider 'normal'. They took my proclivities into account when crafting my revenge." 

He reached forward and ran his fingernails up Steve's chest. The former man arched into the caress, letting out a soft "mmmmmm," almost a purr. "I see your own objections are fading," Vinicius teased. 

"No!" Steve cried. "I don't want this!" But even as he said that he could feel his nipples crinkle anew. "What do you want from me?" he cried out, frustrated and confused by the man's whipsawing moods and his own helpless reactions to them. 

Vinicius was positively beaming now as he stroked Steve gently. "I want exactly what I said. I want you to betray your country. I made certain contacts when I was searching for particular texts and sites in China: they were necessary if I wanted to secure permissions for my journeys there." He smiled vindictively as he pulled on his shoes. "I care nothing for the affairs of nations, but it will amuse me when you select the most damaging nuggets of information for me to relay to the PLA's Second Department." 

Steve was horrified. He'd never hand over state secrets! But then, he'd done so many things in the past few minutes he'd never imagined doing... 

"That is enough for tonight." He stood and nodded his satisfaction at Steve and the gaping expression on his face. "Adieu, for now." Steve looked away, but couldn't help listening intently as Vinicius strode from the room and down the stairs.

For the second time in as many days, Steve wept uncontrollably. 

...

The next morning was much as the previous one had been, only filled with even more despair. He tried to lose himself in his work during the day, and mostly succeeded. But leaving his office that night, he impulsively decided to at least try to do something about his situation. It was Friday; he always kept a small 'escape kit' in the trunk with cash, a change of clothes, and other useful items. Instead of going home, he went to a random hotel and checked in. He had dinner in the hotel restaurant and went back up to his simple twin-bed room. 

He was almost surprised that Vinicius wasn't waiting for him. He ignored the flash of disappointment and sat down at the desk to think. He forced himself to remember what had happened last night, to consider everything as dispassionately as he could. He told himself it was a problem to solve. Steve was very good at puzzles, at finding answers with incomplete information. At determining the why from the what. At understanding people's weaknesses... 

A few pieces clicked into place, all at once. Vinicius had been furious immediately after the blowjob. (Steve wrenched his thoughts from dwelling too fondly on that subject.) He had been enjoying things up until then... as he should, since the situation was designed to appeal to his 'proclivities'. Steve had been doing everything to please him... 

It had gotten to Vinicius! He had forgotten his drive for vengeance for a moment, because of Steve's sincere enthusiasm. Vinicius was not truly ruthless, not professional. He was sophisticated and intelligent, but also firey, passionate - he let his emotions get in the way. Revenge itself was unprofessional. Steve didn't think Vinicius was instinctively cruel. He had become angry because he had - if only for a moment - stopped thinking of Steve as a victim and had thought of him as... not a lover, perhaps, but at least a person. Vinicius might enjoy domination during sex, but that was not the same thing as cruelty. 

It was an interesting theory. He thought it held together, but he was also aware of how little objectivity he possessed regarding the man. He was obsessively attracted to the dashing Latin adventurer. He wanted it to be true, he wanted Vinicius to care for him. It also pointed out, to his agent side, a way that Steve might gain some power over Vinicius... but only by becoming a more perfect sex slave. He blushed at how tempting that prospect was.

No further revelations came that night. He ended up watching the cable news shows for a few hours, half-expecting Vinicius to appear each time he turned around. (He always kept up on current events; sometimes the most surprising connections could be made.) Eventually, around eleven, he decided to sleep on it. He was both relieved and somehow vaguely saddened that the warlock had been evaded so easily. 

Unfortunately, slumber proved difficult to capture. Tossing and turning in the dark, he finally admitted to himself that he was quite horny. Here away from home, though, perhaps he would be safe in exploring himself a little... 

His fingers ranged along the unfamiliar geography of his loins. He tried to distance himself, pretend he was feeling up some woman and not his own anatomy, but it was no use. The idea just didn't have the charge it should. He knew what would get him off, and in a mortifyingly short time he was applying that knowledge. 

Picturing Vinicius' face and form brought immediate results. In his fantasy, Vinicius was there, naked and glorious, running his hands along skin that ached for his caress. Moisture gathered swiftly between his lips, and he could feel blood rushing there, swelling his pussy and making it ready... for him, for that gorgeous, irresistible man. 

"Oh, Vinicius... oh please... mmmmm... oh, god..." He could not remain silent. The tension climbed by degrees. What would it feel like, to kiss him with that moustache? Would it taste as good as his cock? He drew forth and pictured every moment of last night's oral service, now wishing to do it again, all that and more. His nipples were so hard, his pussy so wet... 

"Oh god, oh Master, oh... oh fuck me, please, oh god Vinicius, fuck me! Oh fuck oooooohhhhhhh!" Picturing that superb prick inside his eager vagina was the last straw. He screamed, heedless that others in nearby rooms might hear. His hips bucked as he climaxed triumphantly. It lasted much longer than any he'd had as a man, fading gradually, leaving him panting but almost at peace. Perhaps he could actually sleep now. 

"That sounded rewarding." The voice was unmistakable, the tone was playful. For several seconds Steve fumbled clumsily for the light switch, and finally got it. He and Vinicius blinked at each other, eyes adjusting. In his dazed state, halfway between excited and befuddled, Steve wondered if he was dreaming. He was very quickly coming to not care, however. 

Vinicius was nude and semi-erect; he sat casually at the near edge of the other bed. No discarded clothes presented themselves to Steve's quick inspection of the room. Part of the reason that inspection was quick was that he was an experienced operative whose life had depended on rapidly sizing up a situation. Mostly, however, Steve's eyes were magnetically drawn to Vinicius' stunning body. 

He was, as Steve had already concluded in an entirely different context, in excellent shape. Not fat-free like a bodybuilder, not polished and artificial like a model, just... fit, healthy. His body looked lived-in, with several interesting scars here and there, adding character like beauty marks. Steve's heart was pounding as he drank in his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, his legs, his arms... everything he saw was thoroughly sexy. He'd believed he was wet and excited before, but he was reaching new peaks in just the few moments since the light had come on. 

He could not speak, he was dumbfounded. The surprise, the embarassment of being caught masturbating like that, the sudden rush of lust... it was too much. He could only stare, helpless. Vinicius' lazy smile told Steve that his confusion was obvious. He realized with some corner of his mind that he'd instinctively pulled up the sheets to cover his chest. 

"I would apologize for intruding, but it seems I am invited," he drawled. Steve blushed and looked down, but he could not deny it. Longing filled his soul. It wasn't fair, him appearing now, when he was so worked up... Vinicius continued, "Please, don't stop. Now that the light is on, I'm curious to see." 

Steve had thought he'd been mortified earlier... "Yes, Master." Tentatively yet ineluctably he pushed the covers away, exposing his nakedness. He'd never been exhibitionistic before, but now the idea of playing with himself under Master's supervision was irresistably sexy. Despite himself, he still felt flattered to see Vinicius' erection rising. He moved, changing position, making sure that Master would have a good view. 

His new hips were indeed more flexible than the old. He was grateful the changes had been so thorough; his legs would never have been able to spread so wide before. He snaked a hand down to the exceedingly moist flesh below while the other gently rubbed and pulled his nipples. It seemed natural and obvious to pleasure himself that way, as if he'd always done so. 

Having Master watch was indeed electric, exciting. It was unspeakably hot, being so naughty, and him seeing it all. He was so wet now, so inflamed, as he moaned deep in his throat, animal, bestial. He was an animal - but tamed, desperate to please his Master. Vinicius' erection was at full mast now; the image was sexy by itself, but the fact that he was the reason for it stirred the new blazes within Steve that much higher. It was like he could feel Master's eyes on him. 

He was rubbing his clit with his middle and index fingers, hard and fast; it was smaller than a penis but so concentrated, purified; it was for nothing but pleasure and it was very good at its job. He wriggled and writhed, muscles tensing, until at last he looked into his Master's eyes and release arrived. As ever now, he was uncontrollably vocal, screaming his ecstasy. It was as if the pleasure was coming straight from Vinicius' beautiful brown eyes. 

As he lay there panting, Vinicius stretched out on the bed and gestured, beckoning Steve forward. Eagerly he leapt up and settled over his Master. He knelt on the edge of the bed, to Vinicius' right, and bent forward, taking the inviting hardness into his mouth and beginning earnest worship. In seconds he was deep-throating, and idly reflecting that he'd never enjoyed pubic hair in his face quite so much. For that matter, the hair on Master's legs was somehow exciting to touch... 

He jerked with surprise when he felt the hand begin probing the folds of his pussy, but he caught himself quickly and resumed fellatio with scarcely a pause. As time passed he found it increasingly difficult to focus, however; his attention kept switching between the delights in front and behind. It was a wonderful dilemma to have, though; and it was touching that Master should devote some attention to Steve's pleasure, too. 

Perhaps it was the magic, or Vinicius' skill, but his next orgasm arrived simultaneously with his Master's. It was a remarkable experience, climaxing while so many senses were being stimulated at once. He'd never been religious, but his novel submissive impulses and emotional state made swallowing cum almost like a communion. 

It was in that frame of mind that Steve turned and laid himself next to a panting Vinicius, wanting nothing more than to be close to him. Tentatively, timidly, he leaned forward but no rejection was forthcoming. Kissing him was at least as good as he'd fantasized. The strong, agressive tongue explored the inside of his mouth, driving him wild. He reached forward, pulling his Master close, losing himself in the wonderful intimate contact, the smell and taste and feel. He groaned and squeezed, needy, surrendering completely to the moment. 

Just humping Vinicius' leg, he came one more time. Then they lay next to each other, Steve running his hand up and down Vinicius' returning erection. After a time, Vinicius reared up and laid Steve out on his back, and deliberately parted Steve's legs with his knee. He moved his prick close to the opening there, and gave a meaningful look in Steve's eyes. 

Steve qualied inside. If Vinicius pushed, even a little, he would acquiesce. He knew it, and Vinicius knew it - Steve could see it in his eyes. It scared him how much he wanted it. He stared at that cock, and knew it would split him open, take him over. He would ride it to his ruin, but oh God, it would feel so good... 

Some small part of him that was still Steve held back. Somehow he intuited that that, at least, was still his choice... but if he freely gave himself in that way, it would seal Vinicius' ultimate victory. 

He was not willing to concede that defeat... yet. Gazing at that lordly shaft, however, he was not sure he could hold out forever. He was seriously wondering if he'd last the night. He wasn't quite able to say "no"... but he didn't say "yes." Vinicius hovered there a moment longer, then smiled and laid back down on the bed. "Not tonight? Well, all in good time." His confidence was frustrating, maddening... but totally sexy, too. 

"Still, what shall we do with this?" he mused, indicating his prick. Steve, with a mix of relief and regret and returning arousal, rose to the task and brought his hands forward, intending something different this time. Somehow he felt guilty about not letting Vinicius fuck him, and he wanted to try to make it up to him. He began to massage and stroke the beautiful member, only occasionally using his mouth for brief licks and kisses. It took time, but Steve was in no hurry. He watched at close range, with unabashed fascination, as the cum emerged from the meatus; everything about sex with Vinicius was compelling. By now he felt no trace of reluctance as he licked up the spilled semen. 

They lay together again in the afterglow, still in contact but without quite the same urgency. Eventually Steve whispered, "I hoped you'd come." It just slipped out. Part of him was ashamed that he'd admitted it, ashamed it was true. But there it was. 

Vinicius smiled complacently. "And so I did. There is nowhere you can hide from me." It should have sounded terrible, threatening, but it was somehow... comforting, and heartwarming, and thrilling all at once. A new feeling, one he couldn't think of the word for... 

Vinicius continued, smiling. "Still, this place is amply suited for an assignation. I commend your choice." Steve looked away shyly; he knew he was being teased, and he'd never liked that before, but from Vinicius it was cute. 

"How do you do that? How did you get in here?" He wanted to deflect conversation from himself, both in defense of what little self-respect he maintained and out of curiosity about Vinicius - professional and personal. 

"With the power I have purchased, it was trivial." A bit of Latin machismo showed, then, as he hastened to add, "Not that I haven't made my way into some difficult places on my own, of course." 

"Like where?" Steve asked coyly, his turn to tease a little. 

"Well, I do recall a wealthy collector who was churlishly unwilling to grant access to certain stone tablets..." 

Fortunately, the Brazilian seemed to be in a talkative mood. Steve was glad, partly for the gratification of his curiosity... but more importantly, he never wanted him to leave, he wanted only to lay next to this amazing man and bask in his presence. Steve had been a good interrogator once, and he applied that skill adeptly to keep Vinicius rambling. He was a charming storyteller, full of anecdotes and tales from his many and varied adventures. 

"...so I worked my way around behind them until I was literally a foot behind their mounts." 




A Perfect Fit



"But what did you do? You didn't have a gun or anything!" He felt like one of the adoring girls in Indiana Jones' classes. But then, the word 'dreamy' applied to Vinicius on so many levels...

"It was no trouble. I shouted and struck both horses on their flanks. The beasts startled, threw their riders, and galloped off. Once I'd snatched their rifles away they were much more polite."

Steve listened, entranced, until it was quite late. When Vinicius discreetly yawned, Steve immediately moved to lay him back and make him comfortable. The bed should have felt crowded but Steve relished the closeness as they drifted off to sleep. 

...

Waking the next morning, Steve was confused for a moment. It was the first time he'd slept so deeply since Vinicius had appeared in his life. The man was gone. He knew what had happened last night should have bothered him deeply, and yet he could not but remember it with fondness. 

His incongruous happiness did not fade for quite a while. He showered and packed, then went down to the restaurant for a hearty breakfast. It was only when he arrived at home that his normal personality managed to start reasserting itself. 

It was a bit like waking from a dream. Actions and circumstances that had seemed perfectly reasonable and rational were suddenly, obviously bizarre. He had been an exhibitionistic cocksucker and had drawn nothing but pleasure from it! His previous contentment melted into a queasy horror. 

He needed to clear his head, to feel like a man again. His first attempt failed badly, however. He didn't make it to the end of the street before turning his motorcycle around and fleeing back to his garage. His new anatomy responded very differently to the thrumming bike between his legs. 

Instead he got in his car, drove to the firing range, and ran a couple hundred rounds through his pistol. Cleaning the gun afterward at his kitchen table was familiar and reassuring. Then, he went down to his basement and got his old free weights out of storage (he knew he wasn't going to be using the agency gym for a while). He fired up the 'workout' playlist on his iPod and wore himself out exercising to the metal and grunge. He went for a jog as the sun set. 

By the time he returned home, he was feeling more like himself than he had in days. The whole situation was just a problem to work out. He'd been in tough scrapes before and pulled through, he'd managed to salvage some botched operations when others would have given up. Admittedly, this was a very tough problem, but there was always a way. 

All these thoughts were running through his mind as he walked in through his front door. They all vanished instantly as he caught sight of the flowers in the living room. 

He scampered over at once to see. A dozen long-stemmed red roses in a beautiful crystal vase. Leaning against the base was a small envelope. He opened it excitedly and found a brief handwitten note: 





A Perfect Fit



...

Mornings were a dark time these days. The enchantment of playing with Vinicius would generally have faded, and Vinicius himself always vanished before Steve awoke. He was most himself then. But that only emphasized the contrast between that self and the one being relentlessly imposed onto him. 

He had happily cooperated with being butt-fucked last night. And even now, the only horrifying thing about it was how little horror he felt. It didn't seem like the humiliating degradation his intellect told him it should have been. Instead he remembered the whole session with distinct fondness. His ass felt... used, but not abused. He wasn't especially sore. Vinicius had been so sweet and gentle... 

He shivered at how completely his whole sexuality had been warped, molded like clay. But that fear didn't make dallying with Vinicius any less seductive and alluring. 

He was marginally more focused at work that day, by dint of supreme effort. The novelty of his shaved skin hadn't worn off much but he resoutely avoided reminiscing about the previous night... at least, insofar as possible. He was startled out of a naughty fantasy when a colleague knocked on the door and leaned into his office. 

"Hey, Steve, good call on that Pakistan thing. They dug into some bank records and found one of the contacts was skimming our 'contributions' and sending a bunch to some Baloch insurgents." 

"Oh, uh, I knew something was fishy there." He hoped he wasn't blushing. 

"Edwards wanted me to tell you he'd like to hear more of your hunches. Just not in the middle of the daily briefing." Eric grinned to indicate that was only half-serious, then walked off. Steve felt a flash of relief. This was a lucky break - it might forestall suspicion a few more days. He'd take it; good news had been scarce lately. He returned to work with new resolve, and was actually productive until the end of the day, when thoughts of Vinicius crept back to the forefront. 

By the time he had driven home, he was warm and moist and consumed with thoughts quite unrelated to intelligence and espionage. He ran into the house, hoping against hope that Vinicius would be there. To his surprise and delight, his Master stood at the door to the living room, nude and sporting an excellent boner. 

With the same speed and grace that he'd once employed for inflicting harm, he bolted across the room to Vinicius, who seized him summarily and attacked with fierce kisses and grasping hands. Steve was swept away by the storm of Vinicius' ferocius need. Roughly, his clothes were torn away and his flesh was manhandled. It was just shy of actual violence; brusque and insistent and masculine. The new parts of Steve's psyche responded in a completely feminine style, drawing pleasure from being the focus of such desire. 

They bumped and fumbled clumsily into the living room, minimally aware of their surroundings, absorbed in each other. They came to rest on the floor, nibbling and kneading and stroking and squeezing in a concentrated expression of lust. 

Vinicius reared up and yanked a pillow off the couch, shoving it under Steve's ass, lifting it into the air. He interposed himself between Steve's legs and moved close. Steve wondered exactly what was in the offing, and, searching his feelings, discovered that no matter what Vinicius planned to do he was far more excited than reluctant about it. 

The tip of that cock was right there, at his labia. It was an incredibly close call - had Vinicius hesitated even a moment, Steve would have been begging to be deflowered. But Vinicius thrust forward, heedless, and Steve felt a moment of shock. 

Vinicius had laid his erection into Steve's slit. Rubbing up and down, the clitoral stimulation was so intense it was almost painful, despite the copius lubrication that eased the way. He stared, mesmerized, as it slid along the groove. The head disappeared and reappeared, over and over. The friction felt like it set his whole body to vibrating, like he was a stringed instrument and Vinicius's amazing cock was the bow. And the music was rising to a crescendo... 

Steve moved his legs together in front of Vinicius' chest, enclosing as much of that prick as possible, giving him all the friction he could bear. An orgasm exploded through him, his white-hot clit radiating incandesent pleasure. It never really stopped, though it peaked again when Vinicus let out a throaty groan and Steve felt sticky cum fall onto his belly. 

They rested for a time as the hurricane passed and the frenzy receeded. Steve breathed a sigh of pure contented peace. His lust was satiated for the moment, but Stephen Harper made no appearance. There was only Steve, worshipful servant, basking in the afterglow. Presently Vinicus kissed him, then stood, nodded his goodbye, and walked out of sight in to the kitchen. It could have seemed callous and rude, but no words were necessary. It had been a stolen moment, an 'afternoon delight'; it was sufficient unto itself. Steve drifted langourously for a time, smiling to himself, content and self-assured. Finally hunger came and convinced him to stand and go to make dinner. 

Sudden, horrifying realizations were becoming such a common part of his life now that they were losing their ability to shock. He was almost numb as he noticed he hadn't closed the drapes in the front window. There wasn't a huge amount of foot traffic in his subdivision, but anyone passing by would have been able to see them in the throes of passion. He wasn't surprised that part of him didn't even want to hide their relationship... 

But, the enchantment shattered, he quickly drew the shades and ran to the bathroom to wash himself off. Then, clad in a robe, he glumly ate a microwave dinner in front of the TV and moped, defeated. 

In the business, love was regarded like any other addictive drug: as a threat and a tool. It made people vulnerable. Professionals avoided love for that very reason. But he was being forced to mainline on the pure, uncut stuff... and it was working. He was vulnerable now, in ways he couldn't remember ever being. 

That night he stayed in front of the TV just to avoid thinking. Channel-surfing, he became engrossed in a romance on the Lifetime channel, a tale of star-crossed lovers. He didn't realize what he'd been enjoying until the credits were scrolling up the screen. 

He wiped the mist from his eyes, terrified. The story had been so sweet, and the way they had kissed at the end had brought those tears forth. He knew that he would have been bored and annoyed at such a movie before, but he just couldn't feel that way anymore. He almost ran up to bed and didn't even try to catalogue his emotions as he laid down, hoping only for sleep that seemed far away. 

...

She looked in the mirror. Her mom squeezed her shoulders, and said, encouragingly, "You look beautiful, honey." It felt good to hear her say that; she'd always had her doubts, before. She was narrow-hipped and flat-chested, and needed more hair-remover than any woman should. But Vinicius said she was beautiful, and his opinion was the only one that mattered. Looking at her reflection, wearing the simple white dress, she felt as pretty as Vinicius always said she was. 

It was a small wedding. She had very little family and only some of Vinicius' relatives could make the trip. They had found a small, stately church outside of Langley and she was in a side room getting ready. She was giddy and nervous. She had no doubts at all about marrying Vinicius, but part of her still couldn't believe he would marry such an unworthy girl as herself. 

A rap at the door. "It's time, honey." Her mother guided her to the door, handing over the bouquet, then went to be seated. Her daddy waited outside. He was beaming; Vinicius had throughly impressed him. He didn't need to say a word as he took her arm and they waited, just out of sight. The music swelled... and it was time.

As she walked down the aisle, hearing the wedding march, she was grateful for the strong arm of her daddy for support. Vinicius was so beautiful in his tuxedo that she thought she might faint. She could feel that her nipples were visible even through the thick fabric of her dress, but she didn't care. Who could blame her for wanting him in every possible way? 

The lightheaded, dreamy feeling didn't fade; she felt as if she were floating through the ceremony, buoyed up by pure undiluted joy. "I, Stephanie, take you, Vinicius, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and obey till death us do part..." She meant every single word with every part of her being. She had specifically requested the traditional vow that included 'obey', and she had no reservations as she pledged herself totally - body, mind, and soul. 

Vinicius's face seemed to glow as he recited his vows. "I, Vinicius, take you, Stephanie, to be my wife..." The blood rushing in her ears drowned out the rest of his words but the smile on his face made everything right. Then he leaned forward to kiss her; their lips met as husband and wife. It was sublime. 

They proceeded back down the aisle past the smiling faces, and then there were pictures to be taken and other such trivia which barely registered through her happiness. She simply clung to her husband - her husband - and did as she was directed. Eventually they retired to the limo and she snuggled up to Vinicius, blissfully complete. 

The reception was beautiful, and nothing about it was more wonderful than being introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Vinicius Ferreira. Everyone was so happy for them, and she tried to make sure Vinicius' family knew that she understood how lucky she was and that she would move Heaven and Earth to make him happy. 

Their first dance was magical and romantic and she felt like a queen, almost good enough for him. The love in his eyes, his kisses, was all she'd ever need. 

In due course they left the reception for a night in a hotel before they would embark on their honeymoon. Butterflies filled her stomach as the busboy closed the door to their suite. Vinicius looked to her and she trembled, weak with her need. 

He stepped toward her, then grabbed her and yanked her into a ferocious kiss. It lasted several seconds, and then she was seated on the bed as he worked at the buttons on the back of her dress. Many tore, but she didn't care in the slightest. She shared his urgency as she fumbled with his pants, trying to get them down, off. Something tore and Vinicius was pulling the top of her dress away. She helped; a girl's wedding gown was supposed to be precious, and perhaps someday it would be, but right now it was in the way. She stood and wriggled it down off her hips. His pants and boxers were down too, now, and he tossed her onto the bed. Her white lace panties slipped past the garter - blue for luck - and she was exposed. 

He wasted no time. Her legs were speedily knocked apart, and he was there, pushing in. It wasn't brutal, but it was forceful and ineluctable and only her copious lubrication kept it from being painful. There was some discomfort as he claimed her virginity, but it was nothing, insignificant compared to the joyous, triumphant orgasm as he claimed her. She screamed his name, giving herself over to him willingly and completely. 

As the bliss finally began to recede, she opened her eyes... to darkness. Vinicius' weight was gone. The shapes in the room were at once familiar and alien. Groping, she managed to turn on the lamp and beheld her own bedroom in the condo. Confusion reigned for almost a minute. Where was her husband, and her dress? The hotel room... it had been so real. When she understood that it had only been a dream, when she recalled the true situation, and how thoroughly impossible such a scenario was, she wept brokenly into her pillow, wracked with sobs. It took hours to fall back to sleep. 

...

Steve was more frightened that morning than he'd been even since the beginning of his ordeal. Stephanie wasn't just a dream self, he'd been her for quite a while after he awoke. Part of him was still her. He wanted to be the bride in a wedding, he wanted that dress, and he wanted his daddy to walk him down the aisle to Vinicius. (This despite the fact that he hadn't uttered the word 'daddy' for three decades, minimum.) 

He zoned through breakfast and the drive to the office in his now-customary autopilot, trying to think as little as possible. Work brought only faint distraction, and barely diverted him from reflecting on the dream. Moreover, a new problem was starting to arise - he was reacting to his job the way a young woman would instead of a grizzled veteran. The bleak, vicious, and horrible aspects of tradecraft had never really affected him, even when he'd been starting out. His girlish side, though, was not so detatched, and recoiled at many of the things he reported on or, even worse, ordered. And he was having trouble interacting with his co-workers. They were ruthless, heartless, cold, paranoid. They were scary. And he was hiding something from them. 

He had to take breaks from funding insurgencies and buying off useful dictators or he suspected he might cry. It chilled his soul. He was faintly surprised that he had a soul.... assuming it was really his. The only thing that helped his mood was thinking of Vinicius. But that only exacerbated the situation in other ways, as he soon discovered. 

The alarm on his watch beeped; the ten-minute respite he'd allowed himself was over. He sighed ruefully, clinging for a moment to the memory of yesterday's torrid session on the floor. It wasn't really a sexual daydream; it was more about how Vinicius had seemed to sense how much she - no he, he told himself - had wanted him to appear... But now he worked to shift gears, to be Stephen Harper again. 

The good feeling died utterly as he looked down at his desk. To his horror, he realized that he had been doodling. Little hearts with arrows festooned the cover of the classified briefing he was supposed to be reviewing. Inside many of them, "Vinicius + Stephanie" or "Mrs. Vinicius Ferreira" were written in his own handwriting. Based on how many there were, he must have been drawing for a while. 

No, on closer inspection it wasn't quite his handwriting. It was very similar, but a touch neater, more fastidious. He felt sick when he noticed the other difference. 

Instead of dots over the "i's", there were little hearts. 

...

After work, on the drive home, he passed by a bridal shop that he had never before remarked upon. Abruptly, however, it brought back the dream. The feeling of wearing a beautiful dress... it was a powerful desire, almost a compulsion now. He stayed in the car, at war with himself, driving well past his condo. Eventually he realized why he was driving so far, where he was going. He came to a lingerie store that was well outside his usual territory, where the odds of being recognized were low. He parked in the lot, and sat for a few seconds, but he lost that final battle, too. 

His knew his face was red as he walked into the store, but ironically, he was able to draw on his agent's experience to help. He had quite a lot of practice getting through unpleasant times with efficiency. It was humiliating, especially how a pair of other customers had stared and snickered, but he eventually arrived home with a few stockings and bras and lacy panties. 

Altough he was starving, he fled upstairs to the mirror Vinicius had provided, and was naked in moments. He started to pull out some of his purchases, but then he remembered the stubble that tended to develop in the evening despite his morning shaving ritual. He went off to the bathroom and drew a hot bath; after a leisurely soaking his skin was soft enough to get a truly close shave. He masturbated once, thinking of his new apparel, but it barely took the edge off the tension. 

Toweling himself off thoroughly, he returned to his bedroom, smooth and silky, worthy of the garments he'd bought. The red ensemble seemed to call out to him, and he slipped them on, feeling daring, naughty. Long net stockings, red thong panties with a heart motif, almost a bustier for the chest. He looked like a harlot, a walking invitation. He felt decorated, embellished, and emphasized. Revealed for what she... no, he... really was. 

It was so easy to get himself off in that getup. 

That night, Vinicius didn't appear. Steve fretted and paced and accomplished nothing whatsoever. What little self-possession he'd recovered was no comfort, since he dreaded sleep for what it might bring. He lay awake for a long time. 

...

Going to the bathroom was always a trial now. More and more each day he felt like an intruder there. And each trip was a step closer to being discovered. Soon somebody was going to pick up on how he never used the urinals anymore; he worked in a field where people noticed details. It didn't help that he was wearing sexy lingerie under his clothes, of course. He'd opened up his underwear drawer that morning and taken out a pair of briefs... but he just could not bring himself pull on the drab things, not after he'd shaved all over, as was his morning habit now. Today he was by turns disgusted with himself and enjoying the delicious, sexy secret. Whenever they came to mind in the course of his day, he felt so feminine! And though there was shame, it was somehow weirdly empowering... 

He forced himself to triple-check his clothes before leaving the stall. A mistake would be disastrous, and he knew his own concentration was frayed. He was feeling Vinicius' absence almost like physical withdrawl. 

Getting back to his desk should have been a relief, a refuge from being confronted with his own transformation. Yet he dreaded the list of payments and weapons and drugs, more chilling for the antiseptic language they were described in. He felt a growing sense of oppression in his daily life, forced to be something he increasingly wasn't. With Vinicius he was free to explore himself and his feelings in ways he couldn't - wouldn't dare to - otherwise. The fact that those feelings might not actually be his didn't seem terribly important anymore. 

He stepped into his office... and there it was, an envelope on top of the keyboard. It hadn't been there when he'd left. It couldn't be anything official - the paper was fine and white and was embossed with a delicate filigree. He closed the door and shot over to his desk. On the front was an elegant cursive S, in handwriting he would recognize anywhere. 

Unable to stop himself, he held it up to his face and sniffed. He thought he could sense a trace of Vinicius's smell; earthy, manly. His heart swelled at the memories that aroma evoked. He opened the envelope carefully, knowing already that he would be keeping the note as a souvenir. 





A Perfect Fit - Roadworks Hold-Up



Deana decided she would risk it and take the old red truck into town. She figured if she stuck to the back roads and took it slowly she might just be able to nurse it along and make it into the mechanics. If worse came to worse she would probably get stuck, and have to wait for one of her neighbours to drive along and help her out.

Come to think of it, thought Deana, if I time this nicely I might just be able to use any problems to my advantage.

Deana carefully thought about what she could wear, as her mind wandered over the chance of running into one of her distant neighbours. Jason's timetable was upper most in her mind as she quickly dressed and put on her make-up.

The truck, true to promise eventually started, but she was having trouble maintaining the revs and could hear the motor dying on her if she let the truck idle. She headed into town winding her way along the narrow back country lane, no cars passed going in either direction. Heading down the hill and applying the brakes she could feel the truck shuddering as the revs started to die and the engine stalled. Deana coasted to the verge and pulled up on the side of the road.

Damn, she couldn't believe it.

It was one thing to jokingly think about it, it was a totally different matter to have it happen. She popped the bonnet and hopped out of the truck, checking her watch as she did so. Well least her timing was spot on. With a bit of luck, if any car passed it should be Jason. 

Deana pushed the bonnet up and leaning over looked at the engine, she had no idea what was wrong. At that instant, she hitched her short tight skirt a little bit higher to lean over further, she heard a car pulling up alongside of her.

"Deanna," a voice called out, "what's the problem."

"Jason," said Deanna, "I was so hoping I would see you. I seem to be stuck."

Deana had turned to look at Jason. Her eyes met his and hesitated, there was always a promise there, of more to come. Jason was her height, had the most beautiful eyes, a smile to die for which came gradually and at times took her breath away, and had the most sensuous voice that she had ever heard. The sort of voice that you wish was there to whisper those sexy, secret thoughts to you for the rest of your life. 

Jason's eyes rested on her face, she was short like him so they looked directly at each other. He took in her appearance. Short tight skirt, strappy sandals and loose navy t-shirt that, seemed to reveal rather than hide the outline of her breasts. His face burst into a smile which made her heart flip. "You don't look like you're dressed to play around with an engine." he grinned.

She turned and bent over the side of the engine, her skirt again revealing her upper thigh. Jason had difficulty dragging his eyes away from her legs. His mind wandered, it had been some time since they had been able to spend any time together. Not because they didn't want to but because it was just too difficult to create the opportunity, in a small country town.

"Is it something simple,." Jason asked, "you know the extent of my mechanical knowledge. It might be best if we leave the truck here and you come into town with me. We'll send a mechanic out."

Deana hesitated but not for long, the thought of some time alone with Jason was upper most in her mind. It was a hot morning and the sun was starting to take its toll, an air conditioned truck sounded appealing. Deana followed Jason and got into the passenger seat.

"Thank you" she said, "you are a life saver."

She reached over and her lips brushed Jason's. His mouth opened to hers and they moved to each other, their lips searching for the pleasure of each others warmth. His arms encircled her and pulled her to him, as his tongue probed the inner recesses of her mouth. With a start he pulled back. His hand ran up her back once more and he looked at her. His eyes ran over her upper body and he pulled her to him.

Holding her close with his left arm his right hand cupped her breast and fondled it as he looked into her eyes and grinned. She returned his look and raised her eyebrows. His hand slid down her t-shirt and found its way underneath. His fingers grazed the bare nipple as he caught his breath realizing she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Lucky it was me that came along," Jason grinned.

Deana smiled to herself as she stretched back and allowed his fingers to tease her nipples. He leant over and raising her t-shirt he traced each pink nipple with his tongue whilst cradling the breast in his hand. Deana kissed the back of his head as he bent to her. Her legs started to move apart as she felt the heat of her desire starting to build.

"I think we better get moving," Jason murmured before we get caught.

Jason pulled away and started the car, his attention given to checking the road. Deanna meanwhile lifted one leg and tucked it under the other causing her short tight skirt to ride up high on her thighs. She innocently looked out the window. When she looked back, Jason was busy looking at her legs, well maybe it was more than her legs. She looked at him and smiled. His hand came and rested on her upper thigh.

Gently his fingers traced their way between her legs. He hesitated when instead of feeling the soft fabric of her panties they felt the warmth of her skin. Deana could feel her body getting warmer as his fingers probed between her lips. She moved her legs apart and her skirt moved up around her hips as she allowed his fingers to slide between her lips. His finger felt for the small nub of pleasure as she caught her breath and pushed her body up to him. 

He rubbed her clit, in just the way he knew she loved. He was an expert at it, stroking her desire, in one with her body. Her legs moved further apart as she pushed her body up to him, she could feel the tension building as he maintained the friction, the pleasure building within. She started to climax in long waves of pleasure she came each wave building and bursting on top of the one before. Her lips were swollen and wet and reached for his fingers which delved deeper into her as he groaned. 

"Hold on," he said as he withdrew his fingers, "I forgot there were road works up here."

The workman wandered over to the car as Jason pulled up.

"Sorry", the workman said, "there is going to be a bit of a hold up. We have a truck broken down repairing the road and a graders run into it. No cars can get through either way. You must have just missed the traffic diversion a couple of kilometers back. You can either wait for a half hour or so, or go back to the diversion and go round the long way."

With that the workman gave them a nod and wandered back up the road. Jason and Deana looked at each other and grinned. She reached over and began to unzip his shorts, pulled down his jocks and released his swollen penis. She ran her hands up the shaft and traced her fingers over the head.

He looked at her and grinned. "What a nice surprise, did you have this planned too."

"No" she laughed, "this one went much better than the last time I went into town, last February, without panties and bra and waited for you. I think you can remember that one, I ended up leaving before you arrived. Maybe now you'll understand why?'

He looked at her apologetically and grabbed her to him, his lips sought hers as his fingers found the warmth of her inner lips and started to explore the depths within. Her hand moved over his shaft and cupped his balls as she bent to take him into her mouth. Gently, she licked the length of him and then her tongue traced the head of his penis. She took him into the warmth of her mouth and slowly pulled his dick out as her lips felt the sides of him move in and out. He gasped with pleasure as his passion started to build, the warmth of her mouth and the softness as he plunged deeper, was starting to drive him crazy.

He pulled her head up and looked deep into her eyes. 

"I think you better hop on top." he said as he moved over into the passenger seat.

She didn't need a second invitation, her body had been waiting for the feel of him for so long. She hitched her skirt to her waist and climbed astride him. She positioned herself over his swollen penis and rubbed her lips back and forth feeling the warmth and hardness of him seeking her body. Slowly she moved her legs apart and lowered herself so she could just feel him entering her. Then she drew back each time allowing him to slide a little bit further into the moist swollen silky sheath.

She reached up and pulled her t-shirt off, and looking deep into his eyes she lowered herself slowly onto him, feeling him enter the hidden recess of her body, plunging deeper until he became a part of her. This was what she wanted, this was what they both needed, as always their two bodies melded together, fitting like no other, a perfect fit. Her body trembled with desire as she slowly moved up and down, on his engorged manhood. Her mouth sought his and they plumbed the recesses of each others body as they let themselves feel the pleasure of their union. She felt a climax starting to build as he moved within her, the tension built as her muscles started to contract around him. He seemed able to make her body respond as no one had before. Wave after wave of pleasure built as his penis stroked her from within until she came with a gasp that ebbed and flowed with the pleasure it echoed. 

She looked deep into his eyes as the climax washed through her, half of her pleasure came from watching him watch her come. He started to respond to the tension of her body and lifted her, his penis stroking her as her lips sucked him deeper into her centre. Together the momentum began to build as he found that spot within, she could feel the heat of her body rising, her surroundings disappeared as the warmth and sensuousness of his penis moved within her.

Together they started to climax , their bodies pushing together trying to become one and moving apart to then rush back to regain the pleasure of closeness. The momentum built as the tension increased, her warmth and softness becoming hotter as it pulled him into her core. They grabbed each other as their bodies started to spasm, both crying out with pleasure as they came, each spasm pulling at their bodies and as they held on sharing their mutual pleasure.

Their bodies were locked together, their passion spent. Slowly, he lifted her from him and she groaned as he withdrew. He held her in his arms and kissed her hugging him to her, as his hands fondled her naked breasts. 

"Thank goodness we made up for what we missed out on last time."



A Perfect Fit, The Affair Begins



The affair begins.

I pull into a parking spot at the back of the park in a secluded area. Filled with nerves and anticipation. We have seen all of each other on the web cam, I met him once at his work and we shared a brief kiss under the stars. This was different, This would be the first time we will be alone together. He pulls into the parking spot next to mine and quickly jumps into the passenger seat. There is plenty of room in my full sized truck for him to keep his distance but he holds my hand and lays his head on my chest. He softly whispers "do you know how long I have wanted to do this?" I know there is no need for an answer. 

We sit like that for a while holding each other, talking. Our gazes meet and we start to kiss. Slowly and sweet at first, rapidly becoming more intense. I climb on top straddling him. The passion between us is tangible. He lifts my shirt and kisses my neck and breasts. He carefully slides his hand up my pant leg and begins to rub my clit. I had worn pants as part of my resolve not to let things go too far. They were not standing in his way. I moved off of him and back a bit but he wasn't letting me get away that easy. 

He continued to rub my clit and kiss me all over my neck. I could feel the pressure inside me. It had been a long time but I had felt it before, just not this fast and intensive, I was going to cum. I tried to pull away but he knew why I did and responded by pulling me closer. He kept rubbing my clit and until my whole body shivered, I cried out and he knew he had accomplished what he set out to do. I thought for sure he was going to want me to return the favor. He just asked me if I was ok and thanked me for coming to meet him. Gave me a kiss good bye. Jumped out of the truck and drove off, back to work. I sat there for a bit to compose myself. I couldn't wrap my mind around how I let things go so far or why I hadn't let them go farther. All I knew was that I wanted this man.

A perfect fit

It has been a few days and a few hot chats on line and I am at the park again. This time in my minivan and once again his car is parked beside mine. This time I am wearing a button up dress, Very easy access. I can tell he is pleased with my choice of outfit. He climbs into the back of the van and asks me to join him. Of course I do. I look at him and I know that under those clothes is an amazing chest covered in salt and pepper hair that leads to a package I would love to unwrap. Yet I am still nervous and not sure how far I want this to go. He holds my hand for a bit and then moves in to kiss me. He gently leans me back and in a seamless motion reclines the seat I am sitting in. While kissing my neck and nibbling on my ear he unbuttons the first few buttons of my dress. Still kissing down my neck he frees my breasts from my bra. He circles my nipple with his tongue and begins to suck. Placing his hand between my thighs they instinctively spread for him.

As he begins to rub his fingers on my already damp panties his phone rings. He has to answer, it is home calling. 

At this moment, as he steps out of the van to take the call, I know what I want. I want him. I want him inside me. I quickly wiggle out of my panties. He hangs up and gets back in the van and starts kissing me again. As he goes to return his hand to between my thighs he softly asks me if he can see my panties. To which I tell him no. Disappointedly he asks why. My simple answer is because I took them off. At this point all bets are off. A gasp escapes his lips that is part moan. Lifting my dress he is greeted by a neatly trimmed, very wet pussy. Due to previous conversations he knows I am nervous about having my pussy eaten. He separates my pussy lips, looks into my eyes and asks me if it is alright. I just nod. He gently licks my clit, so warm and soft, I had never felt anything like that before. He stops, hesitant because he doesn't want to push me. He straightens up and pulls my bottom to the edge of the seat. 

I feel so venerable like that in front of him. My breasts exposed and my dress up around my waist. He was now positioned between my legs. I knew what was coming and was relieved I didn't have to wait any longer. As he lowered his pants I marveled at his amazing cock as it glistened with precum. It slid into my dripping pussy with ease. A perfect fit. We melted together as he pumped in and out of me in a perfect rhythm. Slow then fast then slow again. The hair on his chest rubbing against my hard nipples. I could hear his breath deepen and his heart race as he pumped faster into me. I felt the warmth of his cum fill me. As he gently laid on me to catch his breath I knew that no matter how wrong it may be this was what we both needed.

Hopefully to be continued.......



A Perfect Flight



I had been planning a vacation for several months, but being alone, didn't know where I wanted to go. After talking to several friends, I decided on going to Colorado. The ski season was arriving, so I thought maybe I could get in a few good runs on a weekend, besides I have some friends that live in Aurora and I knew I could visit them. I booked my flight and was excited about my trip. 

As I boarded my flight from Sacramento to Colorado, one of the stewardesses was greeting the passengers, she introduced herself as Candy. Behind her stood the most handsome man I had ever laid my eyes on. Cindy said, this is our Captain, Pat Taylor. I knew that my face turned crimson as I suddenly felt a rush of heat. I tried, or thought that I did, to smile at the Captain. I put my hand out to him to shake his, and when our palms met, I felt an immediate surge. I gripped his hand and looked into his eyes hoping to see a return emotion. Immediately, there was such a warm smile from the Captain, and he said, hope you enjoy the flight. I smiled back and said, I know I will now. 

After the plane took off, the stewardess, Cindy, came down the aisle and handed me a note. She smiled, and said, "I think the Captain took a likin' to you" I smiled back and started trembling as I opened the note. It simply said, "Would you like to meet me for a drink after we land.?" I was so excited and at the same time thinking, just another pilot and another lady. But, at the same time, I remembered the surge I felt when our hands touched as I entered the plane. That had to mean something. So, I took a notepad from my purse, wrote a note back, and when Cindy came by again, I handed it to her and asked her to please take it to Captain Taylor. She smiled, and said she would be happy to. Now I couldn't wait for the plane to land. Before the announcement of us getting ready to land, Candy came by with another note for me. It read, "I will meet you in the main lounge after you get your luggage." I was ecstatic (and wet). 

As I was waiting for my luggage, I heard a voice behind (very close) say, "hi.' I turned and there he was. MY god, he was so handsome. I wanted to put my arms around him and smother him with kisses, but being in uniform, I knew better. He asked me if someone was meeting me, and I said no. About that time, I saw my luggage. Pat took if off and we walked out of the airport. He said he had a car, not to worry about transportation. He asked me if I wanted to call anyone or if I would like to go have a drink. I told him I could call my friends later, and lets go have a drink. We got into his car and he took me to a very nice restaurant/bar. 

We went in and sat in a booth. I wanted to touch him immediately, so I put my hand on his leg. We both ordered a JB & water. I felt something from touching him that I had never felt before. It was like when we touched hands, a pulsating surge. I wanted more than touching his leg. I slowly worked my hand up towards his crotch and could feel the immediate response. His cock was already hard and just waiting for me. He leaned over and gave me a very warm and wet kiss. Our tongues explored each others mouths. I could feel myself getting wetter. He asked me how much time I had. I told him if I could call my friends, I could have as much time as I wanted, just so they wouldn't worry. He gave me his cell phone and I called Tom and Grace to tell them I had arrived and would be there later on. They said fine, and would be looking forward to seeing me. 

Pat and I finished our drinks and went out. There was a motel with the restaurant/bar that we had our drink. So he got us a room and the most wonderful night imaginable began. 

As soon as we entered the room, we were kissing each other. Such wonderful warm, wet kisses. He led me to the bed and began to undress me. As he lifted my sweater he was licking my tummy with his warm wet tongue. He removed my sweater and undid my bra. He caressed my titties and sucked them hard. When he pulled my skirt and slip down I heard a little gasp. I was not wearing any panties. My thigh high stockings and heels was all I now had on. He sat me down gently on the end of the bed and began to touch and kiss and lick my pussy. His tongue was riding on my clit and his fingers were in my pussy. I had a climax as his tongue entered my pussy along with his fingers. As I was gathering up myself, he slowly began to undress. I raised up and helped him remove his shirt first. I changed places with him and gently laid him down on the bed. I started kissing and licking and sucking his nipples. They were hard as rocks. I undid his belt and removed his pants. He was wearing silk boxers. I liked the feel of them, so I left them on and just took his well endowed cock and balls out. His cock was so hard it was throbbing and the precum was all over the head. I began to take him into my mouth with my tongue caressing every inch. I didn't want to lose any of the precum. I wasn't sure that I could even get my mouth around it or how much I could take in my mouth. I alternated from his cock to his balls caressing and licking and sucking. I would take one ball at a time and bite gently and suck. He was moaning by the time I came back to his big hard throbbing cock. 

I had him move up on the bed and told him I wanted to please however he desired. So, I continued sucking and licking his cock until he was on the brink of coming. I would again go to his balls, alternating. I wanted to remove my stockings and heels, so I rolled over to do this. As I did, I felt his hand between my legs, in my pussy, in my anus, driving me crazy. I rode his hand like a bull ride. My next climax soaked us both. I squirted cum all over. He immediately took me in his mouth savoring my juices. Pat got up and washed. When he returned I decided I would return the love making to him. 

His cock was so wet with his precum when I took him into my mouth it was such a turnon. I worked his cock and balls in my mouth and tongue. Slowly, as I caressed his balls, I worked back to his anus. As my finger entered him, he moaned out loud. I worked another finger in and another moan. Just like me, he rode those fingers as I continued to suck on his cock. He pulled me up and said he wanted to fuck me that he was not ready to cum yet. 

I washed and came back to him. We were both so wet. He had me get on top and I rode his wonderful cock which gave me my third climax. He rolled me over and got behind me and entered me doggie style. As his hard cock entered my hot wet pussy, he touched every part of my love canal. My god it felt good. I told him to fuck me harder, as hard as he could and not stop. As he was fucking me his fingers went to my anus again and I thought that I would faint. The pleasure of his cock and his fingers were something that I had never experienced before. As his cock thrust into my pussy harder and harder, he fingered my ass harder and harder. I was getting weaker and weaker. The pleasure was beyond description. About that time, I didn't know it, but I blacked out. 

When I came to, Pat had put a cold cloth on my face. He held me tight and so gentle. I asked him how I could best please him. He said when I felt up to it, he wanted me to suck him off. I just wanted to give him some of the pleasure that he had given me, so as I was making love to his cock, I took him deep throat as I entered his ass with two fingers. He was trembling from head to foot. I increased the pressure on his ass with another finger, pounding harder as his cock was in and out of my throat. It was only minutes and his cock totally exploded with cum into my mouth, down my throat. As I swallowed every drop, his cock remained hard. His whole body shuddered as he cried out. I slowed eased his wonderful cock out of my mouth and went to the bathroom getting a nice warm wet washcloth to sponge him off. 

We laid on the bed for some time just holding each other. I told him I needed to shower and get to my friends before long. So, we both got up and showered together. It was a pleasure washing his cock and balls gently in my hands. He, in return, washed my pussy. 

He told me he would be back in town the following night and asked if he could see me again. I smiled, and asked him if he would like to meet my friends, and he said yes. As he drove to their house, I told them that they were swingers and maybe the four of us could get together the next night. He smiled, and said, "Why not." More about that in my next story.