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Charlotte

By: gushogan



I think it was T.S. Elliot who wrote, "April is the cruelest month" . . . well it is actually March that is the cruelest, because that is when it warms up enough that the co-eds shed their bras and sweatshirts and compete to see who can poke the most nipple through a thin cotton t-shirt during class. I knew I was in trouble when Charlotte, a freshman, was arguing with Mugger, a freshman boy, about "aesthetics" during a session of my freshman seminar. Charlotte quite suddenly asked for my opinion about their dispute, "was Kate moss too thin to be truly beautiful?"

"No, she's pretty," I answered. I mean she is pretty. Maybe not my first choice in supermodel, but nothing to complain about either.

"Guess that means I will have to lose ten pounds to get your attention," Charlotte's reply before turning back to Mugger to make some deeper point about heroin chic.

I got her message loud and clear.

A week later Charlotte appeared at my office during office hours. How lovely. She was quite demure, actually, for her. She wore a dress. Showed lots of leg. No hose. Legs were shaved—I hadn't recalled that she had done that all semester. Her hair was up and she had painted her nails. And she had a question.

"Do you remember my mom?"

I had met her mom, and her, at one of those dog and pony shows that small liberal arts colleges do to attract uncommitted students.

"Of course I do," my reply.

"Mom had me when she was 42. You have got to admit; she is looking good for a woman who is sixty. And she didn't know a lick of English until she married dad. She is French, you know."

I recalled most of that from the dog and pony affair.

"And this is going . .?" my question to Charlotte.

"Just thought you would want to know about my genes and that I spent most of my summers in France while growing up. And they do some things a little differently there."

I had an idea of where this was going. I have seen "Gigi" after all.

She stood up and did a swirl.

"Do I rival Kate yet?" another Charlotte question. And how can it be answered without some bit of doom descending.

"Only if you think Kate is a rival? Has she enrolled in one of my classes?" I went for bit of wit.

"Not that I know of"

"Then I guess you have your answer. Kate's not a rival." Thought I was safe, but then blundered. "So what's the contest?"

"Your eye." She winked, checked her watch, "Ciao, got to run, class…boring history." And she was off.

About three weeks later, near the tail end of the semester, was in the office when an IM crossed my computer.

"What are you doing?" It was from Charlotte. She was in a computer lab. She continued, "Saw you were online. It is Friday and late, why are you still in?"

It was Friday at 5:00 and I was working to meet a writing deadline.

"Working to meet a writing deadline. Won't be heading home until late."

"Oh won't bother you…she said and signed off."

I finished writing around nine, emailed a text of a convention paper to my "reader" and headed home. I live about 4 blocks from campus in a great old house. High ceilings, hardwood floors, huge screened in porch at the back of the house. I got home and found Charlotte lounging on the screened porch.

"Thought you might like company when you got home," she said.

"You did?"

"I did, and I brought some wine. Chateaux Margeaux….your favorite, right?" She held up two bottles. I realized that maybe I tell my seminars a bit too much about myself.

"And how did you buy that?"

"I have good friends," she said, "and there is something to be said for good wine."

I opened the door and we walked into my kitchen. I took two wine glasses from a cabinet and handed them to Charlotte. I found a corkscrew, opened one of the bottles, and pointed back towards the porch. I was trying very hard to keep things public.

Charlotte had other ideas.

"Bathroom?"

"Just down the hall on the left?"

She was wearing one of those thin cotton dresses. And after her trip to the bathroom I got the idea that she had lost most of her underwear. In my twenties, I was good at winning bar bets guessing bra sizes . . . and Charlotte is a 34 C with "aggressive" nipples. Bra versus braless shows—and it's a good show.

We sat on the porch. Savored some wine.

"You know you could get my ass fired for doing this?" I opened.

"Only if I told…and why would I do that?"

"'Cause I do something to piss you off?"

"Well what if I piss you off?"

"You still have my ass because you are the youngster drinking wine on my porch."

"Hey, I had a birthday you old coot. I turned eighteen."

"But you have to be twenty-one to drink."

"But not to fuck."

She was a girl with an agenda. She stood up and handed me a thick sheaf of paper. 

"Grade it. It's my final seminar paper. After you ink the grade, I am no longer 'your student.' I am a free woman."

I read the paper. I am sitting on my screen porch drinking great wine and reading a student's term paper. It was a good paper. It explained why Kate Moss was too flat chested to be truly beautiful . . . among other things. A half hour went by. I marked an "A" on the paper.

"Ok, done."

"Great, now how do I catch your attention?" Charlotte's question. "I have been busting my ass all semester and you seem to look elsewhere."

"You are seventeen."

"Eighteen, I had a birthday."

"You are my student."

"Not any more, final paper turned in and graded."

"Ok, you have my attention, now what?"
 Charlotte got up, walked over to me, and gave me a kiss. It was a good kiss. Charlotte has very full rich lips. This is a child who will never need to get a collagen shot to pump up her lips.

I stood and embraced her. Truth be told, I had "noticed" her early on. Was turned on by the pouty lips, full breasts, and furry legs. Our tongues met and danced. My hands moved down her back and felt her tight butt. Damn firm. My lips moved to her neck, her earlobe, her ear, back to her neck. She cooed.

"Let's go inside."

I grabbed her hand and she followed.

I have two bedrooms that I sleep in. Call me crazy. One at the front of the house. One at the back of the house. It's an old house and it has a bunch of rooms. I sleep where the mood strikes. We went to the back bedroom.

I undid the buttons at the top back of Charlotte's dress and it fell away. Ummm. A sight. How to describe a perfect breast? I love a breast long on the top, fat and curved on the bottom, huge aureole, and big nipples. Charlotte may be the model. Large dark aureole, better than a silver dollar, with thick bulbous nipples. My mouth was on a breast instantly.

She is a girl with sensitive breasts. She later told me that she came twice while I milked her nipples. First little kisses around the bottom of her breast. Then I flicked my tongue around the aureole tasting it all. Then the nipple. First I sucked delicately. Then I bit lightly. Then my tongue teased. Sucked harder. Sucked lighter. Pulled ever so delicately.

She was right about Kate Moss.

I worked down her stomach to what I found to be a very full bush for a girl just turned eighteen. She had thick lips and a gorgeous clit. I liked down her left thigh and back up her right. I then teased her lips. First the left lip. Then the right lip. My tongue lapped really good juice coming from her gorgeous slit. Then I went to work on the clit. I touched, she came. I knew I could tax more from her. I licked gently, slowly, then faster. Her hips bucked, her legs clenched, I held my ground and licked harder driving my tongue on her tight bud. She shuddered. She shuddered again. She said "stop stop…." I paused and looked up. I grinned. And I dove back in….she came two more times. I slip up, kissed her, and rolled off to the side.

She caught her breath and said, "now it's your turn."

Charlotte



The male threw his keys down onto the coffee table and looked around the room. The lounge room was quiet and orderly just as he liked it. The air conditioner was on high and an iced glass of port was sitting on a coaster on the coffee table just as he had instructed. His tan-colored loafers also sat beside his armchair just as he had ordered. 

Tired from a hard days work, he sank down in the large, comfortable, leather-bound chair in the middle of the room, picked up the glass, and sipped the sweet, cold, liquid through his parched lips. 

He removed his work boots and replaced them with the loafers; then sat back and relaxed, letting the quietness of the room overtake him for the next few minutes

Charlotte listened intently to her master's movements from inside the bedroom. She knew from experience he would come to her only after he felt truly relaxed.

Charlotte had been lying prone, in a spread-eagled position, on the right side of the bed for just on 30 minutes. The bed was situated right in front of a portable air conditioner, and by obeying his explicit instructions, she had been forced to experience the ecstasy of having cold air blown on her ever-hardening nipples; caressing them for the same length of time, she had lain there. The sensation was driving her insane with need just as he anticipated.

That need had worked its way down to settle at the junction of her thighs resulting in a sticky moisture, which fanned by the escaping wind heightened her senses and made her pussy ache with desire.

The last instruction he had given her was that her pink dildo should remain inside her pussy until he himself removed it from her body. 

Master swirled the light-mustard-colored liquid around the edges of his glass, took another sip, and closed his eyes. He remained that way for several more minutes whilst he offloaded the cares of the day, knowing well that Charlotte would be where he told her to be and positioned as instructed: eager and wet for him.

After fifteen more minutes, he arose from the comfort of the armchair and walked quietly towards the open bedroom door.

He smiled to himself as he observed her vulnerable state and the look in her eyes as he entered the room.

Normally he did not like his subs to look at him directly: he liked them to look subservient with their head bowed, but as she was his favorite, he let it slide.

He drunk in the sight of her: completely naked, with her arms and legs extended; no binds to hold them there in place. Her nipples rose proudly from the white flesh of her copious breasts, hard and pointed. Her long black hair covered the pillow. Another pillow lay under her arse and from where he stood; he could see the end of the dildo protruding from her freshly shaven pussy.

"So, is my little cum-slut ready for me?"

Charlotte gave him a look, which reeked of servitude and in a small, soft voice replied, "All that my Master has commanded of me has been done, Sir."

He slowly slid his hand up her right leg and felt the cold moisture of her sex whilst giving her pussy lips a slight pinch so that her clit remained trapped in the folds.

The action made Charlotte raise her hips off the bed slightly and groan his name.

"Easy, my little slut:" He spoke the words in a lightly reprimanding way.

He sat down at the bottom of the bed still rubbing the inner parts of her pussy, took hold of the end of the dildo, and thrust it in and out of her a few times: all the time ignoring her imploring eyes, which pleaded for the first thrust of his now hardening cock.

"Turn over onto your front, my pet," he commanded.

Unsure of what was coming, she hesitated momentarily but then slowly turned to lay on her stomach not wanting to disobey him at this point, or any point for that matter.

"Now push up so you are standing on all fours," he continued.

Charlotte pushed her arse up in the air, suddenly displaying the shell pink, petal like flesh of her sexuality to him; the dildo still in place; whilst at the same time trying to gain her balance.

The sight of Charlotte's exposed anal orifice and pussy caused her master's cock to fully harden, and a fierce burning sensation began in his groin.

He knew that Charlotte had never been fucked up the arse before: this would be her first time.

He would go slowly. He would give her pleasure then take his own after he had made her cum.

Her master stood up, came round to the side of the bed where Charlotte was and climbed on the bed, kneeling in front of her. 

"Lift your breast to my mouth and rub the tip along my lips. I want to suckle and bite those big tits of yours," he commanded.

Charlotte lifted her right breast as ordered and rubbed the pointed peak against his lower lip. 

His tongue darted out to caress the hard, pebble-like point.

"Spread your knees. I want to finger that wet pussy of yours."

Charlotte widened her stance adding further distance between her thighs thus giving him full access as ordered.

His fingers withdrew the dildo and he threw it behind him.

He teased her slit mercilessly, making her arch into his hand as he fed on her engorged nipples: first one then the other.

The musky scents of feminine arousal mixed with the sounds of her approaching orgasm were extremely pleasurable to him.

His attention was drawn to the roundness of her arse, which was reflected in the bedroom mirror.

He watched their mirrored reflection, both excited and pleased by her body's response to his and smiled to himself as she came apart under his skilful handling.

He nearly came himself, but held tightly to his self-control: instead telling her to turn round to face the mirror.

He wanted her to watch as he took her from behind.

Charlotte lowered her head, but he quickly grabbed her chin and raised her head to she could see herself in the mirror.

She heard the familiar sound of the down drawing of a zipper and knew that her master was freeing himself from the confines of his clothing.

Turning her head to look back at him, Charlotte noticed that he had a tube in his hand and became slightly fearful of what he was going to do with the contents. That was until his calloused fingers coated by a gel substance slid there way along her pussy lips, fingered her internally, thrusting in first one finger then two...finally entering her slowly widening pussy with four fingers side by side.

Charlotte eyes instinctively closed and she began to writhe against his hand.

"My little slut likes this, doesn't she? Look at yourself in the mirror." 

He pressed his body into hers and pulled sharply on her erect nipples. 

A long moan escaped from deep within her.

"Don't you dare cum until I tell you you can."

It was a directive and he slapped her arse hard as if to drive the order home.

She shut her eyes and tried to ignore the ecstasy she was feeling as he pulled and pinched her nipples with both of his hands and felt the masterful slide of his thick rod, which he had inserted between her widely parted thighs just to ease some of the pressure inside him self.

Charlotte moaned again.

"Quiet, whore," and he slapped her slightly reddening arse a second time.

Charlotte became quiet as ordered.

Charlotte's master reveled in her obedience to him. She had come a long way in a very short time and he was well pleased with her progress.

She had always meant more to him than being just a half-decent fuck: and he loved her responsiveness, though he could not allow her to become too carried away: and she was prone to do that from time to time.

He continued his seduction but found he, himself, was now gaining a lot of the pleasure. 

The sensation of her soft, hot inner-flesh against his now engorged, pulsating cock was staggering. Every time he thrust his cock along the folds of her pussy, his balls brushed the hairless mound, which housed her treasure.

He decided he would fuck her arse now and allow her to come as he did so.

He lubed up a finger and began to rub it into her arse hole.

Charlotte immediately tensed, but did not move away from him.

Her gently inserted the finger into her anus and watched as the tip disappeared from view. He heard Charlotte's intake of breath and felt her muscles tighten around his knuckle.

"Relax, my pet. It will be okay."

Charlotte tried hard to relax against him as he withdrew his finger, but as she felt the bulk of the tip of his masculine appendage against her tight little hole, she began to alter her stance slightly in an effort to move away from the massive cock at her rear end.

Her master held her hips tightly to his lower body, knowing that any minute she could say the word that would put an end to all his longings... he waited, but to her credit, it never came.

She swung her head round to look at him just for a second, then as quiet as a mouse said, "Please be gentle." 

She then lowered her head placing her forehead down on the pillow and waited for his next movement.

He took her arse in one hard thrust and Charlotte, in obvious pain, grabbed the corners of the pillow with her clenched fists and whilst pulling the pillow to herself, screamed into the fabric.

"Give it a minute: your body will adjust," her master rasped as his own body was overtaken by the tightness of her virgin cavity on his cock.

He wanted more than anything to thrust: thrust hard and deep within her, dispelling his own load.

Instead, he placed his hand between her thighs and began to rub her clit in circles. She did not move away from him nor did she respond to his touch.

He continued this way until she began to relax and he was rewarded with a tiny moan of pleasure, as the bulge in her arse became a little less painful to bear.

He began a short range, slow, thrusting motion within her and continued to fondle her pussy driving need back into her, taking the place of the pain she had been subjected to moments earlier.

He was surprised at how quickly she was overcoming the pain to revel in the pleasure his touch brought forth within her.

His thrusting began to pick up pace.

He put his arms around her waist and lifted her upper body so that her back was pressing against his front.

He was fucking her hard now.

"Who... are... you?" he enquired as his fingers took ownership of her nipples once again.

"Your little slut, Sir," she gasped as he squeezed the right nipple hard.

"Go on slut... tell me... that you want me to fuck you ...with this big cock."

He ground out the words with each forceful thrust he delivered into her.

Responding to her Master's need to hear the words Charlotte called out aloud, "Sir... please fuck me... fuck your little whore... I want to feel you pounding my pussy and my arse... I want to feel your hot cum... inside me... your powerful cock-strokes... tearing up my pussy... and my arse. Please... fuck me Sir... Fuck me hard ...and cum...cum inside your little slut... No one else can fuck as you can... I love it when you make me your whore."

"Yes... you are my little whore... my little cum-slut... who loves to be fucked by this big cock," as he thrust hard with in her his voice became louder and he spoke quicker: then groaned the final words as his cum jet-streamed out of him into her hot, tight arse.

He held her tightly to his frame as lethargy besieged him. 

"And I have all night to see just how big a whore you really can be, don't I sub?"



Charlotte



It was 5.15 she had just gotten home from work and was tired she couldn't face going out tonight. She knew she had to get ready this was arranged and if she didn't turn up then her reputation would be ruined. She hadn't dated in months and on the advice from a girlfriend at work she had placed the advert on a contact site. It simply stated "for intimate evening with beautiful woman send me an email to arrange our date". She had gotten an email this morning. It had said "will meet you at The Hilton at 8.00 tell the concierge you have a table booked under Max. See you there."

She went into the bathroom and turned on the shower and began to undress. She slowly undid the buttons on her blouse one by one. Slowly sliding it off her shoulders it falls to the floor as she reaches behind her and undoes the black bra. As the bra falls away her tits are exposed to the cool air in the room her nipples stiffen and she can't help herself as she runs her hands over her tits gently pinching the nipples. She wonders what tonight will bring as she unzips her skirt and kicks of her shoes

The skirt falls to the floor and she peels of her panties and steps under the warm shower. The water cascades over her body her hands explore for imperfections as she lathers the soap up and runs it over her body teasing her nipples and running her hands over her mound...as she thinks about shaving her pussy bald. The aches of the day disappear under the warm water. She gets her magic razor from her bathroom cabinet and lathers up her pussy as she glides the razor over the surface and begins to shave it. 

Minutes later she's running her fingers over the smooth surface her body tingling at the heightened sensation. She runs her fingers up and down the smooth surface of her skin, soft like velvet and as smooth as silk. She slips one finger between the folds of her pussy lips and slowly drags it up until her finger hits her clit. Pressing against it she rubs it hard, it begins to swell with the attention becoming sensitive to the touch. Her breathing becomes shallow. She can feel the moisture between her legs as her pussy becomes wet with arousal. She slides her hand back down and slips one finger into her sweet hole, then another then finally a third. She starts pumping her fingers in and out of her pussy. The sensations washing over her, she lets out a whimper of lust. She knows she's about to cum. grind her pussy onto her fingers as she pushes her fingers as deep as she can get them into her. Then it hits her. The orgasm rips through her body as she stands shaking and screaming in ecstasy. She steps out of the shower dries and opens her private wardrobe hoping that tonight will be as wonderful as her shower.

What should she wear should she go casual but smart or dressed to kill. She doesn't even know what the guy looks like and she can feel herself moisten at the thought of maybe meeting a good looking bloke and where it may lead. She wasn't easy but she hadn't had a good fuck since she left college four months earlier. She decided to dress to kill and reaches into the back of the wardrobe for the outfit she bought for that special occasion. The long black dress with the split at the side that climbed to her hip and almost reached her waist. She felt sexy in it, alive...it was strapless so she couldn't wear a bra.. the basque and garter set she thought...it was sexy erotic and with the stockings and the five inch fuck me heels on her new stilettos she would look hot as hell.

She sat at the dresser and painted her nails deep crimson red. Her friends would laugh and call it "Slut Red" she knew it looked tarty but it was a nice contrast against her skin and the black of the outfit she had chosen to wear. She did her make-up subtle and not to heavy except for the lipstick it was a deep dark burgundy red. God she thought I look fucking hot. She put on her black Basque then her stockings, sheer black nylon with lace tops and a little black bow on the front and back with a single black line running down the seam at the back. She attached these to the garters that where on the Basque. Then she put her "fuck me" heels on and then the dress. No knickers, normally she wouldn't dream of not wearing knickers but she had made her mind up if she was going to get fucked tonight she wanted to be ready no hesitation.

She got to the hotel early. Walking up to the concierge she looked at the clock 7.50.

The concierge was good looking, possibly Italian when he smiled at her she felt herself get moist between her thighs, god she thought I'm like a bitch in heat. She was shown to the table and a chilled bottle of champagne was served. She had a glass and only then noticed the table she was sitting at was set for one. She called on a waiter to explain she was meeting someone but the table was only set for one. He disappeared and came back with an envelope and a key card. She opened it and read the card.

Sorry couldn't make it to dinner. If you still want to meet for drinks use the key card I will meet you in the room. Don't worry about the bill everything has been paid for enjoy the evening... Max.

Hmm she thought this guy was very mysterious. She wondered if she should use the card. It was a bit risky a strange hotel room on her own meeting a man whom she didn't know. Her mind screamed at her No... Logic dictated she should just finish her meal enjoy the night and go home. She was feeling adventurous and besides the guy had paid for everything, the meal, the champagne she wanted to know what this guy looked like. She finished her meal and the glass of champagne and asked for the bottle to be taken to the room along with a helping of strawberries. Champagne and strawberries tasted so nice and she thought she may as well enjoy this while she could after all she wasn't paying for it.

She went to the bathroom to freshen up her make-up and then headed for the room. She took the elevator up the bell boy in the lift was cute. She caught him stealing glimpses at her as the elevator made its way up the floors. As they arrived at her floor the doors opened and she was about to head out. Just then she had a real naughty thought. Hell the kid was cute and this would make his night. She reached past him pressed the button to close the doors then hit the stop button. The bellboy looked at her and was about to say something but before he could speak she kissed him. 

Her lips met his and her tongue worked its way into his mouth, exploring, caressing. Her hands reached for his pants and undid his zipper. She had him pinned in the corner kissing him as her hand worked its way inside his pants she felt him relax as her fingers curled around his cock before pulling it out into the open. She broke the kiss and put a finger to his lips and just whispered "shhhhhhhhhhhhh"

She then dropped to her knees in front of him her hand stroking his cock watching it harden and feel it throbbing in her hand. God he was hot and such a nice cock. She eased her hand back until it was at the based of his cock and then licked the head of his cock with her tongue. He was getting excited pre-cum was flowing from the tip in a steady little stream. She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and took it into her mouth her tongue licking at the head and underside of his cock. Slowly she started to take him deeper and deeper into her mouth her head bobbing back and forth as she sucked this gorgeous thick cock. 

He started to thrust his hips at her his cock pushing into her mouth. She could sense his urgency and need for release. She used the hand holding his cock at the base to stop him from choking her with his cock as she took him as deep as she could bobbing her head faster. Minutes later she heard him groan as he filled her hungry cock sucking mouth with his cum. It was thick and gooey and salty. He either hadn't been laid in a while or was still a virgin. A smile crossed her face at that thought. As she concentrated on swallowing his cum there was such a lot that she had to swallow a couple of times to accommodate his load.

Done she stood up, put his cock back in his pants and zipped him up, looked into his eyes and winked at him as she licked her lips. She then hit the button for the doors to open on the lift and walked out wiggling her ass at him as she left him standing there speechless. She giggled to herself, God that was so bad but felt so good. She wondered if he would still be on duty when she left if so she would invite him back to her apartment and fuck his brains out.

She got to the room and using the key she opened the door. Looking in it was a nice suite. On a table in the room she could see her champagne and her strawberries. Hmm time for another drink, she thought cant kiss her date with the taste of another mans cum in her mouth could she. She poured herself a drink and set the bottle on the table. She had just finished the drink and put the glass on the table. When she felt him behind her. She hadn't even heard him come in. was he here all this time. She went to turn to face him when she heard him say stop. She was not to turn around unless she was told to. 

The voice was soft but she could feel the power behind it. She felt a chill run through her as she felt his hands on her shoulders. His touch was soft, gentle as his fingers caressed her skin, she began to moisten between her legs. No man had made her feel this way before just by touching her. She felt him kiss her neck she tilted her head to the side enjoying his touch. She heard him whisper the words to an old meatloaf song she had heard at college. "would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?"

She let out a sigh and breathlessly whispered yes...just as she said it he lay on the table in front of her a red rose. Again he asked her "would you offer yourself to the wolf with the red roses?" she was getting wetter at the thought of being with this man as she once again said yes. This time he put a bunch of red roses on the table and a blindfold. She looked at the blindfold and a sense of apprehension went through her. What was the meaning behind this? Her mind was confused. His touch was exquisite and she wanted more.

He whispered in her ear he was going to leave the room for a few minutes. If she wanted to continue the evening she would remain standing where she was facing the window. Upon his return she would be blindfolded and she would give herself to him completely for the rest of the evening. If she wasn't prepared to do that she could take the roses what was left of the champagne and leave now. With that he kissed her neck and shoulder and was gone.

She stood there confused. Not knowing what to do, she had never been faced with a choice like this before. She picked up the blindfold, she felt herself get a little bit more wet between her legs. She had worn a blindfold before for an old college lover she could remember the heightened sensations on her skin as he touched her not knowing where his hands would touch next. The touch of this man made her so wet she wondered how much more amazing that touch would feel. 

She heard a knock at the room door. Time was up she could take the roses and leave and get a look at this mystery man on her way out or she could do as he asked and stand there looking out the window. God she thought I cant believe I'm doing this as she turned toward the window picked up the glass of champagne took a large drink and then let out a deep sigh.

Just as her glass hit the table she felt his hands on her shoulders. He lifted the blind fold and placed it over her eyes and tie it behind her. He took her hand and guided her into the middle of the room. He stood behind her kissing her shoulder as he worked his way towards her neck she tilted her head offering herself to him. He asked her name and she told him it was Charlotte. Well Charlotte he said your advert said an intimate night with a beautiful woman. Yours certainly beautiful and tonight you will discover how intimately I intend to get to know you. 

She felt his hands caress her shoulders his fingers running over her smooth skin across her back between her shoulders. A chill went through her as his fingers stroked down her spine from her neck to the zipper on her dress. She felt the dress loosen as he pulled down the zipper and felt it fall to the floor. Then there was silence for a minute, then foot steps it was only then when she realised he was checking her out did she remember she hadn't put any knickers on, She blushed a little. 

She heard a zipper coming from her left and movement but couldn't identify it. Minutes later he is standing in front of her. He kissed her lips softly his tongue exploring her mouth. She reaches up to hold him her hands on his shoulders as she runs her fingers through his hair their tongues entwined as he pulls her close.

She presses herself against him and feels his hard cock pressing against her. 

She can feel his Cock against her skin and assumes that max has a very big cock as the tip brushes her abdomen. She runs her hands down his chest and makes a move towards his cock. She feels his hands grip hers and he whispers in her ear "Later". He takes her hand and leads her into the lounge area of the suite. He asks her to get down on her hands and knees with her legs spread. She does as he asks and feels his hands caress her ass, driven by lust now she lowers her head and raises her ass to meet his touch.

She feels his fingers run through her hair and then grip it tight as he pulls her head back, his cock brushing against her face. "Charlotte I know you like to suck cock, the bell boy will be smiling all night. Show me how much you like cock, and suck me Charlotte". She was shocked, how did he know? Had the bell boy told him? Of course she liked to suck cock she loved a hard cock in mouth. Her mind raced here she was in heat on her hands and knees in front of this stranger and he knew about her, how?

She made a mental note to ask him how he knew about the bell boy later. She licked her lips and opened her mouth wide as she felt him push his cock into her mouth. It was thicker than the bell boy's and was filling her mouth as he continued to push his cock forward into her mouth. She could feel it hit the back of her throat, she could sense he wanted her to deep throat his cock and she swallowed to accommodate his cock.

She continued to deep throat his cock as he withdrew his cock and thrust it back into her mouth. She felt his cock throb and thought he was about to cum but instead he withdrew his cock from her mouth. Minutes later she felt him behind her his hands on her thighs and his warm breath on her pussy. He had position himself under her, her pussy hovering above his face. She felt his tongue flick out and felt the tip of his tongue caress her pussy lips. The sensation was making her squirm, the feather light cresses of the tip of his tongue was making her wetter, she could feel the tension building within her.

She wanted to cum so much she let out a deep moan of pleasure and she felt him pull her closer and his mouth press into her pussy. His tongue probed deep into her as his nose rubbed against her clit. Her clit already sensitive from arousal throbbed and ached for attention. She let out another deep guttural moan of pleasure as she felt his tongue replaced by his fingers, Pumping in and out of her pussy as he finger fucks her his mouth encloses over her engorged clit. Holding it in his lips his tongue flicking against it, she begins to grind her pussy onto his fingers and mouth seeking more pleasure to take her over the edge and make her cum. Just as she can feel it Cumming and her breath quickens towards release of her built up passion. She feels his teeth grip her clit and bite gently but enough to take her over the edge.

She feels the orgasm rip through her. Her body is shaking as waves of pleasure roll over her. He slips out from under her and just as she thinks the orgasm is about to subside she feels him thrust his hard cock deep into her pussy. He starts to piston his cock in and out of her pussy as his left hand grabs a hand full of her hair pulling her head back forcing her to arch her back as he drives his cock deep into her. His right hand comes down hard on hard ass. The Shock of this brutal fucking compared to the exquisite caresses of the earlier foreplay send her once again over the edge. 

She had never been fucked roughly before and she felt herself enjoying the feeling of being impaled on this hard cock and being taken. The orgasms started to ripple through her system, little ones at first, getting stronger and more intense with each slap of his hand against her soft flesh. He took her to the crest of the mountain and then withdrew his cock from her pussy. She cried out in frustration. "Fuck me, make me cum, punish me and make me cum I need to cum"

She felt his hands on her ass and she smiled as she prepared to take his cock hard in her pussy, her ass was going to be so tender from the slapping but she had never experienced being fucked like this and she wanted more. She felt him rub his cock against her pussy and cried out for him to shove it in her and fuck her like a whore she needed to cum.

Just then he took her by susrprise and instead of driving his cock deep into her pussy she felt cold lube and then his cock press against her ass. Before she could say no, He was in her, his cock pushing through her ring. She let out a cry of pain as his cock drove deep into her bowels. Her ass felt like it was on fire. She felt his balls slap against her pussy as he began to fuck her ass. 

The pain began to subside to pleasure as he added more lube and she felt his cock slipping back and forth in her ass. She had never done anal with any of her previous lovers this was something she would never have done if he had asked. However he didn't ask he just took her and fucked her as she had asked. She could feel the pleasure building within her again. His hand slapped hard against her ass as he pulled back, the sting of flesh on flesh. As his hand went back to slap her again she would feel his cock drive deep into her ass. This combined with him pulling her hair and pulling her back onto his cock was driving her towards another massive orgasm. She felt every inch the Whore, A cock whore she wanted his cock in her and she wanted it hard.

She could sense he was about to cum his breathing was becoming more ragged and he had stopped slapping her ass. Instead he had both hands gripped in her hair pulling her back onto his cock as he drove it into her ass harder and faster. She couldn't take it anymore she let out a cry that she was Cumming. She was Cumming hard her body was shaking with muscle spasms; her whole body became sensitive to the touch. Just then he drove deep into her ass and let out a deep guttural growl. More animalistic than human in nature as she felt his cock spasm inside of her as he began to cum. She could feel the warm cum being released into her ass. This sent her over the edge and she began to cum again. The extra heightened sensations of this cum was exquisite she could feel her cum juices flowing from her pussy soaking her thighs and her stocking tops. 

She collapsed on the floor, her muscles and body tired from the exertions of her orgasms. She felt him pull out of her ass now tender and full of his cum. She was exhausted she closed her eyes and sleep took her. He stood over her looking down at her. Her hair was matted with sweat, her make up had run, her ass was red with hand prints from the slapping he had given her. Her thighs and pussy where glistening wet with her cum, there was a wet patch on the floor where he had fucked her and he thought he could see traces of his cum around her gaping ass where his cock had been minutes before. The goddess that he had seen when she first came in looked every inch the whore that he thought she was. 




Charlotte



Charlotte sensed someone was in the room with her. Despite the blindfold she turned her face towards the presence; her fingers clamped around the arms of the chair. Charlotte's nostrils flared, her sense of smell heightened from fear and the inability to see. The perfume told her it wasn't Peter, the scent was definitely not his, it was a more feminine smell. Charlotte recognised it -- but where from? The answer was close ... a hazy image formed in her mind but refused to materialise. She felt a waft of breath against her cheek and tried to rise from the chair, an impossible task since her wrists were bound to the wooden arms. 

A voice came from across the room; the Polish accent confirmed it was Peter: So he was there too! 

"Do you trust me?" 

Charlotte felt fingers trace a feather-soft line down her cheek. The stranger was touching her. She swallowed heavily but nodded in the face of her fear. 

"Good," Peter murmured. "You can leave whenever you want." He spoke a single word and explained: "Say that word at any time ..." Peter paused and emphasised, "Any time at all, and it will stop ... Immediately." Another pause before he continued. "But," Peter said, his accent thickened by anticipation, "if you do leave, it's over; completely gone ...Finished."

The man fell silent, but Charlotte knew he was still with her; she could hear his breathing. His words comforted her even though there was a third party in that room. It was a woman, Charlotte was certain. She put aside the niggling frustration of the perfume and thought quickly. The effects of the wine were wearing off and she had a decision to make. Was she prepared to be controlled? To submit to the will of Peter and whoever else was with them? The offer by Peter of an escape route reassured her, and Charlotte recognised the finality of the situation should she balk and run. Did she really want what was on offer?

The woman considered her situation. She thought of the emails she'd discovered -- the filthy exchange between Peter, a supplier of fabrics to her factory, and her PA, Vanessa. The written exchanges had, at first, disgusted Charlotte, but there'd been a frisson to her discovery. Despite her offended morality, Charlotte had experienced a rush of warmth between her legs, and, red-faced with mortification, she found herself locking her office door and rubbing herself to orgasm as she imagined herself in the scenes described.

Charlotte confronted Peter about the lewd communications between himself and Vanessa -- a strange course of action given the fact that Vanessa was an employee, but Charlotte didn't reconcile her actions on a logical level; she was driven by a more primordial force. 

The heat in her cunt.

They met in an expensive London eatery as arranged. Peter, tall, broad-shouldered, and with his rough, interesting face betraying his concern, complimented Charlotte in her long, black dress. Charlotte knew she looked good, understated but elegant, with a simple string of pearls around her neck. She'd chosen her dress and shoes deliberately. Her ash-blonde bob was newly cut and feathered around her face prettily. She noticed Peter's eyes flicker towards her deep cleavage and she smiled to herself -- Big tits, she thought, gets them every time.

Ignoring the polite murmur of muted conversations around them, Peter brought the subject in hand immediately to the fore. Lifting his hungry stare from the upper slopes of Charlotte's round breasts, Peter fixed his grey-blue eyes on her face. "I'm surprised," Peter said after a waiter had poured wine and left. "You find such emails between me and Vanessa, yet you speak to me and not her ... Why?"

"I can deal with Vanessa any time," Charlotte responded in her typically haughty fashion -- a self-made woman, she was used to having her own way. She shrugged, a movement that caused her breasts to jiggle, and Charlotte saw Peter glance at her chest again. "She's an employee, I can replace her, but you, Peter, are much more important to me."

The man's lips pursed and he shook his head. He ran his hand over his close-cropped hair. "No, Charlotte," he said emphatically. "I don't accept that. You could just fire Vanessa and not say anything to me. She's at fault, you're her employer ..." Peter paused, he stared intently at Charlotte -- it was a stare that caused the mature woman's sex to clench. Charlotte reached for her glass and gulped at her wine to cover her discomfit. Peter smirked, Charlotte's reaction spoke volumes. "There's more to it," he continued. He studied Charlotte's face. "Tell me," he insisted. 

Peter used silence as a weapon. It was a trick he'd been taught years ago by his father. "They'll grow uncomfortable," the old man had said. "You control the silence and they will try to fill it. A useful trick in negotiations," Pappy had said and smiled. 

"OK," Charlotte blurted finally. Peter smiled to himself. It had worked. "At first I was ... disgusted by what I read. The things you wrote to each other ... I've never ..." 

"It's role-play, Charlotte," Peter interrupted. "A game." He sipped at his wine and glanced around the room. Nobody was paying any attention to the couple. They were an innocuous sight. Well-dressed, obviously wealthy -- they could even be married. "You said you were disgusted. What changed? How come you're not so offended anymore?"

Peter used the silence again. 

"I—" Charlotte began.

"—were turned on," Peter finished for her. His voice fell to a whisper: "You grew excited." The man leaned across the table, he held Charlotte's gaze: "You played with yourself, Charlotte. You used your hands on yourself ... down there." Peter nodded towards Charlotte's lap. 

The woman blushed and looked away. He was right; Peter had known exactly what she'd done. "It wasn't like that," Charlotte blustered. Her usual, assured demeanour evaporated. The man could read her like a book. Damn him, damn his intriguing eyes and his harsh good-looks. An image flashed into her mind. She saw Peter above her as she lay supine, with her legs wide apart, as she offered herself to him. Charlotte blushed at the vivid picture; she saw Peter's assured smirk as he held himself above her submissive form, she felt her nipples tighten as, in her mind, his big cock nudged her opening ... Charlotte squirmed against her seat. A pulse throbbed between her legs.

"It was exactly like that, Charlotte." Peter's accented English brought her back to the present. The residue of her fantasy lingered; her breasts ached and her teats longed to be sucked by this man -- Charlotte's insides melted.

Forty-five minutes later and Charlotte found herself in a black cab with Peter. She heard Peter speak to the driver -- she recognised the address from somewhere, but lust and wine blurred her senses. Besides, as soon as the cab turned a sharp one-hundred-and-eighty towards their destination, Peter fell on Charlotte like a predatory beast.

His hands were on her thighs instantly. Charlotte, feeling his fingers travel down her limbs, allowed her legs to fall apart. Peter growled as his hand slid up under the hem of the dress. He pushed roughly at Charlotte's thighs, eager to get to the hot place at their junction. Charlotte shuffled forward to accommodate Peter's insistent probe; she pushed her legs wider apart, and, at the same time, saw the driver observing the goings-on in his mirror. Aroused by the voyeuristic intent of the cabbie, Charlotte stared back at him belligerently -- as though challenging him.

Fuck you, she thought. Watch all you like, I don't give a damn. She groaned as Peter's palm cupped her mound through the fragile material of her underwear. She pushed back against the pressure while Peter moved across her body to kiss her.

Charlotte returned the kiss. Her lipstick, so carefully repaired following the meal, smeared across her face. Her hair also fell into disarray, smudged against the seat while Peter's tongue explored the wet cavern of her open mouth.

"You want to do this." Peter murmured during a break in their frenzied kissing. "We agreed."

"Absolutely," Charlotte acquiesced. "You've never cheated me so far ... in business ... why should this be any different?" She gasped as Peter's finger pushed beyond the taut film of her underwear and found the oily gape of her opening.

"You must trust me," Peter breathed into her ear. "It will be strange, but you must trust me."

Charlotte groaned and looked at the mirror again. The man was watching as Peter fingered her hole. The situation was already strange to Charlotte. A divorcee and 42 years old, she was used to straight sex behind closed doors. Sprawled in the back of a cab with the driver ogling her gaping snatch was just not her style. A modern day ladette would be more inclined to such lewd behaviour, but Charlotte, having conquered her modest upbringing, considered herself more refined. She moaned, turned on enough to agree to anything: "I do," she panted. "I trust you ... I ... I ...."

Peter grinned into the shadowy interior of the cab. Charlotte couldn't see his expression; her attention was on the cabby's eyes and the flame between her legs. Things were going better than he'd anticipated. He was pleased he'd made the call ahead when the opportunity arose. Charlotte's make-up repairs had given him the chance to use his mobile phone. His cock, already stiff, throbbed at what was to come.

The taxi driver accepted the fare and tip and, with a smirk, drove away. As the cab's engine noise dwindled, Peter led Charlotte up a short flight of steps towards the impassive façade of an expensive London mews. 

With some trepidation Charlotte allowed herself to be blindfolded and bound to the chair by her wrists.

And now she had to make her choice.

Decisive in business, and, once a decision was made, she stuck to it. Charlotte opted to stay. "I trust you, Peter," she said determinedly. "I want to do this."

"Excellent," a female voice whispered in Charlotte's ear. The accent was quintessentially English; the speaker was well-educated, the product of indulgent parents and a girls' private school. Charlotte recognised the voice of Vanessa, her PA.

"You!" Charlotte blurted. "The address, your perfume ... I should've known sooner—"

Fingers dug into Charlotte's cheeks. The woman hissed: "You don't talk. Nobody gives a fuck what you think. You're here for my pleasure."

A thrill of fear surged through Charlotte. Her guts clamped at the venom in the woman's tone. She thought of the safe word and nearly called it out. Then, as the code was about to form in her mouth, she recalled Peter's repeated insistence on trust. She swallowed heavily, still frightened, but now a thread of lust ran through the dark fabric of her fear.

Charlotte surrendered her will.

"Do it to her," Charlotte heard the woman say. A sound told Charlotte that Peter was moving to obey the command. So Peter wasn't in charge; he was in the woman's power as well. Charlotte had no further time to ponder since she felt hands grasp her ankles. 

"Put your legs over the chair arms," Peter said. 

He guided the woman's limbs into position. It was uncomfortable but not intolerable. Charlotte sat there with her backside on the edge of the cushioned seat, with her wrists bound and the backs of her knees hooked over her forearms. In this position, Peter lifted two handfuls of her dress and pushed the material up around Charlotte's belly. The woman felt fingers against her body as Peter wrenched the lacy scrap of her underwear to one side. A rending sound told Charlotte that her knickers were now a rag.

Peter uttered a Polish obscenity. Vanessa laughed.

"Looks like the bitch is all hot for your tongue, Peter. Her cunt's swollen and red and bubbling with juice." Charlotte's face burned beneath her blindfold, but Vanessa's vulgar description sent a surge of lust through her body. "You may kiss her there," Vanessa allowed.

Charlotte felt hot breath on her sex as Peter manoeuvred himself into position. Her labia were spread, with Peter's thumbs Charlotte imagined, and then she groaned when the man's mouth touched her burning sex.

"Oh ... fuck ..." Charlotte grunted and immediately fell silent as Vanessa's fingers dug into her cheeks again.

"Not a word from you, cunt. You say another word and I'll take this big-cocked bastard away from you. Then you can sit there with your twat unfucked. "

Charlotte whined but made no articulate sound.

A few minutes passed. The only sounds in the room were the slurping of Peter's mouth and tongue against the slippery flesh of Charlotte's core, and the muted moans and whimpers from her mouth.

Peter worked two fingers inside Charlotte and curled them to rub at the sensitive place inside. He rubbed hard at the rough spot he felt there, and was rewarded by a great burst of delight from Charlotte. The woman groaned even louder as Peter dabbed his tongue at her excited clitoris.

Vanessa's insistent voice broke across Charlotte's thoughts: "Don't let her come! If she comes you don't get your reward."

Immediately Charlotte felt Peter's fingers slide out of her opening. His tongue formed lazy patterns around her labia rather than the hard pressure against her clit that she'd adored. She wriggled in an effort to urge Peter to return to his earlier ardour.

But it was not to be. "It's time for the collar," Vanessa commanded. "Untie her, take the blindfold off and strip her."

A ripple of unease caused Charlotte to shiver for a second. Strip her? Naked? She was unprepared for this. Her body wasn't what it had been as a young woman. She was aware of her curves and felt self-conscious at being nude in front of these people.

Caught on the horns of a dilemma, Charlotte called to mind the safe-word again. She dithered, and before she'd managed to form a protest she felt the cords around her wrists slacken. She flexed her fingers and became aware of the ache in her forearms. Charlotte had been straining against the bonds without realising it as Peter had licked her. The discomfort momentarily displaced the anxiety she felt at being stripped bare.

The blindfold was removed and Charlotte blinked. She looked around the room. The place was sparsely furnished, but what furniture there was, was obviously expensive. Charlotte saw her employee, Vanessa. The woman stared at Charlotte with a supercilious expression on her face -- an arrogant sneer. Charlotte was cowed by the intense, green-eyed gaze and she hurriedly turned her face away to observe Peter. Charlotte gasped when she saw him. He was naked. Peter held what appeared to be a short, leather belt and a chain in one hand; in the other were what were obviously cuffs. It wasn't the sight of the paraphernalia that caused Charlotte's shock, nor was it Peter's heavy-muscled body -- it was the girth of his penis that made her gasp.

The great thing just ... hung there; a malicious entity, thick and threatening.

"Fucking huge isn't it?" Vanessa said; her eyes gleamed. "You're going to suck that thing. He's going to stick that monster into your mouth and down your throat ... And you're going to love it."

The prospect of taking Peter orally frightened Charlotte. It would be impossible to put that ... awful penis into her mouth; she would choke on it! Then, as Peter came towards her, his brutal cock swinging as he walked, Charlotte experienced a surge of elation. She was so aroused; she needed to come, her climax was imperative, and she'd do ... anything to get it. 

"Take off your dress," Vanessa barked. Charlotte's face grew scarlet with embarrassment as she unhooked the eye at the nape of her neck and unzipped the dress. She shuddered and closed her eyes when the garment slid over her body, but she accepted the humiliation gladly if it meant that she was a step closer to orgasm. "Take off your bra, slut!" Charlotte jumped, startled out of her reverie. She hesitated, but then complied. Peter murmured softly in his native tongue when he saw Charlotte's full, heavy breasts swing free. "Put the collar on her. Cuff her wrists!" Peter obeyed instantly. He indicated the string of pearls around Charlotte's neck. Soon after the jewellery was coiled atop Charlotte's discarded dress. "Touch her breasts, Peter. Squeeze them. Suck her nipples."

Charlotte opened her eyes when Peter's hands closed around her body. The collar felt strange around her neck, so much tighter than the pearls had been, and the chain felt cold as it hung between her breasts, its leather loop hanging just in front of her navel. She gasped again when she saw Peter's cock jerking and stiffening of its own accord. It couldn't possibly grow any bigger! But Charlotte saw it could.

Peter nuzzled and suckled Charlotte's nipples. He sucked one teat between his teeth and then did the same to its twin. The flesh thickened and grew while the dark saucers of Charlotte's areolae contracted as her excitement heightened. All thoughts of her slight belly and bare bottom were banished as the fire between her legs raged on.

Vanessa stared at the pair with a hungry expression on her face and a glint of desire in her green eyes. She lifted her tight skirt to her waist, and, being naked beneath, split the folds of her labia with her middle finger. She sighed when her fingers slid over the slick nub of her own engorged clitoris. She tottered momentarily; her own desire and the spiked heels of her mirror-shiny, black shoes nearly caused her to fall. She recovered her balance and allowed herself a few seconds more of self-indulgence before she strode across to Charlotte and Peter. She ordered Peter to cease and then hooked the leather loop between Charlotte's breasts with her fingers.

Charlotte experienced a fresh burst of fear as she was yanked across the room to a leather chesterfield sofa. The tattered remnant of her knickers slid down her shin and fell to the carpet. Vanessa wrapped several loops of the chain around her fist until Charlotte was on a short leash, and then, with a look of disdain, Vanessa manoeuvred the blonde to her liking. She shoved disdainfully at Charlotte's shoulder; Charlotte fell into the cool embrace of the settee.

Vanessa released the chain as Charlotte fell backwards. "Julian," she called.

A tall man entered the room. Charlotte estimated his age at late-twenties and immediately saw a resemblance between the newcomer and Vanessa. Their hair colour was identical; blue-black, but rather than the straight length of Vanessa's, the man's hair was a mass of loose curls. They shared the same angular cheekbones and deep, green eyes. One noticeable difference was their attitude. The man, Julian, Vanessa's brother, didn't share his sister's arrogance; he appeared hesitant -- as though this situation was relatively new to him as well.

Julian, too, was naked. He had the lean build of a cross-country runner. His legs were long, with strong, well-muscled thighs. His arms were thinner than Peter's but well defined. Julian's cock stood at an undecided half-mast, and, although decently proportioned, wasn't in the same, terrifying league as Peter's.

Julian eyed the pretty, voluptuous blonde on the settee. Her make-up was a mess, and her hair in disarray. She was older than he by at least ten years, but Julian found her attractive. She was desirable. His cock stiffened a little more at the perversity of the scene his sister had engineered.

"Give her your cock to suck, Julian," Vanessa ordered. She turned to Peter: "You go over there too. You're going to share that hard-on with the slut."

Charlotte's stomach lurched when she heard Vanessa's orders. A thrill of the taboo shocked her. Did Vanessa really mean for Peter to suck this man's cock? It wasn't that she objected to having Julian in her mouth -- his cock looked divine -- it was the perversity of sharing it with a man.




Charlotte



She soon found out.

Julian offered his penis to Charlotte. The blonde wriggled forwards on the sofa and leaned towards the proffered erection. Her hands, although cuffed at the wrists by wide leather bracelets, held close together with a few links of stout chain, could still be used. She opened her mouth and, with a glance at Vanessa, popped the purple dome between her lips. Julian sighed and pushed his fingers through Charlotte's hair.

Charlotte warmed to her task. She decided to make a good show of sucking cock in front of Vanessa. Having reconciled herself to her situation and, as a result, recovering some of her confidence, Charlotte felt her competitive edge returning. She slurped at Julian's cock with exaggerated vigour, spitting onto the helmet and rubbing a smear of saliva and Julian's goo around her cheeks.

It was to be a short-lived experience. Vanessa, with typical assured arrogance, took command. "Peter!" she barked. "On your knees. Show the useless bitch how it's done."

Charlotte's eyes widened in shock as Peter moved alongside her legs. He pulled Julian's erection to his mouth and took the entire length in one go. The blonde looked up at Julian. The man had a strange expression on his face, as though he wasn't quite sure if he was comfortable with this. Nevertheless, he made no move to stop the Polish man from deep-throating his penis.

Peter gagged and Julian's length slid from his mouth. Long strands of drool hung from the end of the thing, and the shaft glistened with saliva. Peter immediately licked Julian's penis from tip to balls. He was emitting tiny mewls of pleasure as he tongue slid up and down the other man's dick. Then, as he slowly caressed his own, impressive organ, Peter moved his lips over the mushroom head and swallowed the length once again.

Charlotte was shocked. She was disgusted and filled with lust at the same time. How could he do it? How could the man she knew in the business world be this man here? Peter was obviously enjoying what he was doing. And it was obviously something he'd done before -- many times.

"Now you do it." The order came. Peter, with some reluctance, offered Julian's cock to Charlotte. He held the blonde woman's gaze for a moment. Charlotte hesitated. Instantly, Vanessa was upon her. This time, rather than taking hold of the chain, Vanessa took a handful of Charlotte's hair in a tight fist. Charlotte gasped with pain and shock. Then, before she could even think of using the code, she found Julian's cock-head against her mouth.

She opened her lips and he was inside her. Coughing and gagging, Charlotte was forced to endure a brief agony. She couldn't breathe, her eyes streamed with tears in reaction to her gag reflex as she tried in vain to cough the invading meat out of her throat. She gasped and spluttered as Vanessa pulled her head back and the cock slid free.

"No ..." she managed to gurgle. "I—" 

"Use the word, you cunt," Vanessa snarled. "Go on, use it. I want to break you, you stuck-up bitch. Use the fucking word."

Charlotte's lips formed the first syllable. This was too far. This wasn't fun. With her eyes still streaming she turned to face the domme. Their eyes met. Vanessa's cold look of contempt stopped Charlotte from using the get-out. Anger surged through her. The young woman thought she'd won. Charlotte could see the triumph on the girl's face. "Fuck you," she snapped.

"You. Don't. Speak." Vanessa grabbed the chain and pulled hard. Her face went close to Charlotte's. "You speak only to use the word ... Otherwise ..." Her eyes bored into Charlotte's. "...You do as I tell you."

Time hung. The scene played out over three heartbeats. Julian stared at his sister; he wasn't experienced enough to understand what was going on. 

Peter immediately grasped the situation - a power struggle. He thought that Charlotte would crumble. Vanessa was too used to this, Charlotte was fresh to it. 

If he were a betting man ... he would have lost.

Charlotte glared back at the devil-woman. She panted and her eyes still watered. There was drool spattered on her breasts, but, she rationalised, if she surrendered -- if she ran away, then Vanessa would win. The only way she could walk away with any pride, was in paradoxical submission.

Charlotte lowered her gaze.

"His cock next." Vanessa gestured towards Peter.

Peter grinned and stroked his flagging cock back to stiffness. He grabbed Charlotte's hair -- not as harshly as Vanessa, but hard enough for Charlotte to yelp. He swung the woman's head so she was facing him, and he noticed with a thrill of delight that her heavy breasts jiggled and swayed. He was going to enjoy this. He'd always desired Charlotte. He would have made a play for her sooner if he'd known she'd be so malleable.

"Fuck her mouth, Peter," Vanessa urged. "Teach the bitch a lesson -- Choke her with that thing."

Charlotte opened her mouth as wide as she could manage. Peter introduced the dreadful, blunt end to her lips. He pushed his cock at her and used his other hand to hold her head still. The woman struggled to accommodate the girth. Her jaw began to ache -- it was impossible. Then, the ridged head moved into her mouth; Charlotte felt the thing on her tongue. More meat slid between her stretched lips. Charlotte snorted breath through her nose desperately. She wriggled on the leather seat.

"Hold her cuffs, Julian," Vanessa commanded. "Make sure she can't use her hands."

Julian looked at his sister. He'd been staring in morbid fascination at Charlotte's face. The woman looked like a snake swallowing a goat. Her mouth couldn't possibly be stretching to take Peter's huge cock ... But it was. "What?" he blurted.

"Her hands, you idiot! Hold her hands still."

Peter pushed a couple more inches into Charlotte's mouth. Then, when he judged she was on the edge, he pulled out.

Charlotte gagged and coughed. A great drool of saliva gushed down her chin; a thread of the stuff connected her to Peter's cock -- an obscene strand that swung heavily between them until it finally snapped. Charlotte coughed again uncontrollably, and, at the same time, tried to take great lungfuls of sweet air. Nevertheless, despite her suffering, Charlotte was thrilled to notice the tide mark on Peter's shaft that marked the point at which she'd accommodated him.

She could do this! She began to grow aroused again. The flaming desire inside her had cooled since she'd fellated Julian in a more traditional fashion. Now, the itching burn between her legs was rekindled.

Unknowingly, Vanessa played into Charlotte's hands. "Fuck her now, Peter. Stretch her cunt. Turn her inside out while Julian fucks her mouth."

Vanessa had shrugged off the dark suit jacket and had unbuttoned the plain, white blouse she'd worn underneath. Her skirt was still hiked up around her hips; she was dying to rub herself, but she denied herself the pleasure. The slut could lick her later. Vanessa smirked at the thought of her employer licking her twat.

Peter pushed Charlotte into a reclining position on the sofa. To his surprise the woman willingly opened her legs. He looked down and saw the reason for her eagerness. Her sex was gaping. Charlotte's labia hung heavy and pouting. There was a smear against the leather where Charlotte's lust had dribbled from her body. Peter growled, lifted Charlotte's manacled wrists above her head, and butted the head of his cock against her opening. He pushed, there was a slight resistance at first, but then, to his surprise, he slid inside her body.

Vanessa watched, wide-eyed and expectant when Peter knelt between Charlotte's thighs. She anticipated a squeal of reluctance -- which never came. Instead, she saw Peter's girth stretch Charlotte open, but was surprised by the ease in which the blonde accommodated the thick cock.

Peter's balls slapped against Charlotte's body. She smiled in triumph. The thing felt huge inside her, it was easily the largest she'd ever taken, but she was so aroused, so wet ... Her body had opened up and accepted the invader. Charlotte began to move her hips.

Vanessa changed her mind about her brother's role. The idiot was just gawping anyway. She clambered onto the settee and settled herself above Charlotte's face. The bitch had her eyes closed. And she was even smiling! She was enjoying herself. Fuck! "Lick me, bitch," Vanessa ordered. "Suck my cunt."

Charlotte obeyed instantly.

"You slut," Vanessa crowed. "You're fucking that big cock and licking my twat. What a whore!" Vanessa forced her gooey opening against Charlotte's mouth. Lust trickled from the black-haired woman's body as she slid her clitoris over the end of Charlotte's nose.

Charlotte, aroused to a fever pitch by the torrent of obscenity that poured from Vanessa's mouth, not to mention being stretched to bursting by Peter's cock, actually felt her climax begin to bubble.

Julian stood by and watched. He stroked his cock as his eyes flicked from the sight of Peter's dick which, on the outstroke, seemed to be about to turn Charlotte's vagina inside out. The purple skin was so taut and unyielding it bulged around the circumference of Peter's shaft. He saw his sister's face twisted in a rictus of lust as she ground her pubis against the blonde's mouth. Charlotte seemed to be coping well enough with this double onslaught, and Julian groaned at the sight of the woman's heavy breasts as they jiggled and wobbled to Peter's urgent, stabbing thrusts.

In the midst of her pleasure, Vanessa happened to glance at Peter. She saw by his face that he was close to coming. "No!" she called. "Don't Peter. Don't you come in that bitch." She lunged for the man.

Charlotte lay panting on the settee. Vanessa had managed to haul Peter off her before he came. Unfortunately for Charlotte, she too had still to reach her peak. She'd been so close too. She reached her hands between her legs. Her fingers found her sodden hole.

Vanessa heard the metallic clicking of the short linkage of Charlotte's manacles. "Oh no you don't!" she called and turned to her brother who was still yanking his stiff cock. "Hold her hands away from her cunt. Stop her playing with herself."

"Fuck me," Charlotte whispered as Julian yanked at her cuffs. "Put your cock in there. Fuck me. I want you to do it."

Julian gulped and stole a glance at his sister. She was occupied with some kind of belt; Vanessa was fastening some contraption to herself. He turned back to Charlotte. He groaned at the sight of her, wanton and desirable as she lay with her legs splayed; her sex an invitation. Charlotte shuffled on the leather. She forced her legs wider apart. Julian moved quickly. He hauled Charlotte to a sitting position. Then, he made a circular motion with his index finger. Charlotte stared at him for a moment, and then realisation dawned. She knelt on the sofa and rested her elbows on the low armrest. She pushed her backside high and lowered her torso until her rear was offered to her handsome lover.

"Fuck," Charlotte whispered as Julian sank balls deep into her body.

"Shit," Vanessa cursed when she heard Charlotte's voice. She glared at her treacherous brother as he began grunt and sigh in time with his rapid thrusting. Vanessa heard the squelching slide of Charlotte's body accepting her brother's cock. That sound and the maddening slap, slap, slap of their coupling angered her. She turned to Peter. The thick, rubber cock strapped to her body glistened with lube and waggled with her movements.

Peter smirked. He knew what was to come. He welcomed it. Without waiting for any instruction he moved close to where Charlotte and Julian were fucking. He knelt so that his face was inches from Charlotte's. The blonde looked at him through eyes heavy-lidded with lust. He kissed her. He held her cheeks in his palms and forced his tongue into her mouth. Charlotte accepted him willingly.

Vanessa moved to a point behind Peter. She saw the mature woman and the Polish pig kissing. Another flash of anger burst through her. "You bastard," she murmured. "You and that whore and my cunt of a brother ..."

Peter gasped into Charlotte's open mouth as Vanessa forced the rubber cock into his anus. His sphincter rebelled at first, it tightened against the smooth, round tip as Vanessa pushed roughly, but eventually, the brute force of Vanessa's will defeated Peter's fragile body. The membrane opened and the inches slid into Peter's dirty-hole.

The scene descended into an orgiastic display of debauchery. Charlotte panted and grunted as Julian fucked into her with energetic strokes. Julian himself moaned as he reached under Charlotte's body and cupped the heavy, swinging tits in his palms. He rolled the thick, rubbery teats between his fingers and continued to stab Charlotte's swollen vulva as he nibbled and bit her exposed neck.

Vanessa mauled at her own breasts as she punished Peter for his intransigence. How dare he kiss that slut! She grabbed her skin and pulled at her nipples until the tender flesh of her tits was red and swollen. She cursed her brother for his weakness while she pounded relentlessly into Peter's arse. Most of all, Vanessa wanted to punish the voluptuous blonde, who even now, was moaning through the minor tremors of the beginning of her climax.

Peter was pulling at his enormous cock as Vanessa buggered him. He loved the feeling of the hard yet pliable dildo as it filled his rectum so solidly. He adored the sensations from his arse and his cock as he tugged at it. He stared into Charlotte's eyes and he felt the surge of his climax begin. He turned and pushed Vanessa away from himself. The strap-on slid from his anus and hung between Vanessa's legs -- an obscene parody. He stood quickly and aimed his cock at Charlotte's face.

The blonde recognised his intent immediately. She smirked and opened her mouth to speak. "You filthy bastard—" she began, but got no further as the first spray of Peter's semen splashed across her face. More of the stuff spattered onto the leather between her elbows, while further spurts landed in her hair, on her shoulder, and against her swinging breasts.

Julian came next. He grunted and clawed at Charlotte's generous hips as his seed pumped into the blonde's body. The tickling, pulses of Julian's spunk inside her, coupled with the hot splashes of Peter's goo, fired Charlotte's orgasm. She added her cries and groans of delight to the cacophony of outpoured lust as she jerked and twitched in the rapture of her release.

Eventually the spent trio looked at Vanessa. The woman's eyes sparked venom as she stared back at them.

Finally, Charlotte spoke: "You look so delicious like that, Vanessa." She gestured towards her employee with a sweep of her hand. Vanessa glared back at her, with her blouse hanging open, her skirt still high on her hips, and her dangerous looking shoes still on her feet. "You look good enough to eat."

Vanessa's look softened and a sly smile crossed her face. "Do I?" she murmured. She undid the straps that held the dildo against her body. "Come and eat me then." She walked to the chair that Charlotte had originally been bound to, and hooked her legs over the arms just as the blonde had done earlier.

Charlotte smirked and went to Vanessa. They kissed and Vanessa licked a dollop of Peter's spunk from Charlotte's breasts. The mature blonde knelt between Vanessa's thighs; she stared at the girl intently and then, after a lascivious wink, bent to the task.

"Lick her, Peter," Vanessa groaned as Charlotte tongued her excited clitoris and pushed two fingers inside her opening. "Suck my brother's cum out of her."

The Polish man grinned. He stroked his cock and moved behind Charlotte. She in turn, while still keeping up her oral attention on Vanessa's thick-lipped vulva, pushed her derriere as high as she could manage.

Peter held Charlotte's labia apart and was rewarded by the sight of a viscous trickle of semen. The goo dribbled from Charlotte's hole and ran over her clitoris before a thick drop of the stuff fell to the carpet.

With a moan, Peter forced his face against the sticky mess and pushed his tongue deep into the blonde.

Charlotte groaned and turned her head to face the man behind her. "Kiss me," she sighed. "I want to taste it too." Peter leaned across the blonde's back and kissed her. Their tongues slid and danced, with Julian's cum acting as gooey lubrication. Peter broke away and moved back to Charlotte's oozing sex while Charlotte herself returned her attention to Vanessa's need.

Poor Julian, forgotten and excluded, merely stood by and stared. He'd been sharing the apartment with Vanessa for a few weeks, ever since his marriage break-up had sent him running back to London, he'd always known his sister possessed a kinky streak, but the scene in front of him now ...

Vanessa, through heavy, lust-laden eyes, looked up at him. She smiled at her brother, and then a laugh burst from her throat. "Not as I planned, Julian," she grinned. "But the bitch is sucking my cunt ..." Vanessa moaned and ran her fingers through the disarray of Charlotte's hair. Her hips lifted in a series of spasmodic jerks and her head lolled backwards. "I'm ... It's ... Just there, curl your fingers inside me just—" Vanessa groaned loudly and surrendered to the sensations elicited through Charlotte's fingers probing at the spongy walls inside her body. She gave a bestial grunt and held the blonde's mouth tight against her body. She mushed her dripping sex against Charlotte's face and gave voice to her climax.

Peter watched Vanessa orgasm powerfully and then -- with his tumescence renewed -- eased his thick cock into Charlotte. 

Charlotte gasped when she felt the brute invading her body again. Peter's intrusion caused Julian's deposit of goo to squelch around the root of his cock. The ooze ran in a quick trickle over his hanging balls and dripped to the carpet between his knees.

The scene ended after only a few moments of frenetic activity from Peter. He clawed at Charlotte's generous hips, grunted loudly, and pumped a second load into her body.

The trio collapsed into varying poses of drained satisfaction while Julian continued to play the spectator role.

Charlotte, exhausted, laid her head in Vanessa's lap. "Work is going to be ... interesting," she murmured.

The woman's green eyes flashed in devilment and she stroked Charlotte's blonde hair gently.

She could hardly wait for Monday.



Charlotte



I find myself in a dark room, unable to move. My arms are secured above me, my feet immobile but spread apart. I can feel nothing and I can see nothing. My last memory was walking home from work, tired and looking forward to a long hot shower then curling up alone in my bed with a steamy romantic novel. When I first became aware of my circumstances, I panicked and screamed till my throat ached. I've been here a while, I really don't know how long, but I know I am not alone. Although I hear nothing I do smell someone. It's a pleasant odor something like perfume or cologne. I cannot discern which so I know not if it is borne by a man or a woman.

In my initial panic I was sure that some man or men had somehow taken me to this place, but I have no memory of that abduction. I know I would not have come here and allowed this voluntarily. My arms have started to ache, I try to squirm to move them so as to ease the creep of the pain, but my efforts are ineffective. I have thought about screaming again, but I've learned how useless my earlier session was. No one came to me. I am evidently safely tucked away where no noise will escape and I have no option but to wait for whatever my fate is.

I am scared but deep inside I am also curious. I have not been injured; other then to be strung up like I am. I know I am naked, I can feel my nipples swelling in my fear and when I could take it no longer my urine escaped my vagina and I felt it splash against my legs, which had been clad in slacks while I was walking home. For a while the odor of my own urine turned my stomach but that was now gone, perhaps I've passed out and whoever has me has cleaned it up, perhaps the cologne or perfume I detect is but a remnant of that person who mopped up my piss.

My name is Charlotte and I am twenty-seven years old. Until I was taken, I was a clerk in a small company and led a simple but comfortable life. I've dated a number of men in my life but no one has ever interested me enough to enjoy their company once they had me in bed. Some of them were quite capable, their cocks very talented and my orgasms came easily. Most were poor in their efforts and only the used condom left in my trashcan remained of them the next morning. I've contemplated trying a woman but have not yet met one that I felt emboldened to seduce and no woman has tried to seduce me. I understand that too, I am a fairly attractive girl, tall for a woman almost five foot six inches in height. I allowed my red curly hair to grow and cover my shoulders and I do keep my body in shape. I walk everywhere and on weekends hike the nearby hills, toning my legs and keeping my round ass firm. My breasts are natural and perhaps something larger then a B cup, but a 36 B bra is not overly tight. My eyes are pale blue and my complexion is typically pale like you often see with a natural redhead. 

As I stand here tied and unable to move, naked and having already screamed my throat sore then pissed myself I am now calm. I am still afraid but I have managed to calm myself with only moments of fear popping up from time to time. I suspect that whoever has taken me and brought me here intends to do something with me. Being naked suggests that I will be used sexually and the thought both scares and excites me. I dream of my home and my warm bed; with the stack of romance novels crowding the shelves of my room. I wonder if I will ever see them again and long for that tranquility as I wait for my kidnapper to act. 

I've read about women, in my novels, who are taken by handsome strong men and who find their pussies dampening and their nipples turning hard as their handsome strangers have their way with them. Yet my pussy remains moist only as long as my piss doesn't dry and my nipples are enlarged by the way my arms are secured not in hopeful anticipation of a tender caress. I continue to listen to the utter silence of my prison, waiting for my doom. My hips are now starting to join my arms and a dull ache fills me. I begin to think my tits are heavy as the ache spreads to my chest and I wonder if this is similar to the 'ache' my heroines express as their handsome strangers use them.

A noise interrupts my thoughts and the aches that have so consumed me are replaced by something new. Fear comes raging back through me as I anticipate that my fate is soon to be realized. But as I strain to listen I hear only the sound of my breath as my fear stoked body gulps for air. 

"Ouch!"

Pours from my mouth as unexpectedly as the strip of pain emerges from my ass.

"No. Ouch."

I scream out as the pain is replicated and my ass is aflame in pain. Again and again I cry out as my ass in whipped over and over again. I can hear now the faint whish of the whip moments before a new pain inflames my naked ass.

"Please!"

I now beg my torturer to stop, I sob and cry yet the pain continues and soon even my tears dry in this dark prison. I don't know that they have stopped as I endure the pain and try to control it. Yet I do realize that the room is silent again and only the sounds of my rapid breathing fills my ears. The pains in my ass slowly fade and once again I am seemingly left alone. 

"Please, why am I here, who are you?"

I say over and over again to the empty air that envelops me. My pussy feels moist again but I do not smell piss and my nipples are very hard and I feel them growing even harder as my minds concentrates on what has happened to my ass. I have no time to wonder why as suddenly both of my nipples are on fire. I scream into the darkness as the pain searing my nipples flares. I cannot wriggle much but I try to shake my body and ease the pain that continues to force me to concentrate on my nipples. I feel a dampness oozing over my inner thighs and know that my pussy is responding to this latest attack on my body. Just as suddenly whatever was pinching and hurting my nipples is removed and the pain caused by the return of blood to my tender nipples overwhelms me, the wetness of my thighs increases. I moan at the relief and the pain. 

I am left to endure the memories of the last few minutes. My nipples are quieting but still hurt and my ass carries the impact of the whip. My pussy now aches for release but I cannot help it find that release. Once again I stand and wait. How long have I been here, how long will I be here? My fear fades for now I have survived yet the fear stays close because it knows it is not over. As much as I find it inconceivable I find myself drifting off to sleep. Not and easy comfortable sleep but a troubled sleep, one brought on by the fear and terror and yes by the pain. I have no sense of time, no idea actually that I've been asleep when the pain I'd first felt in my ass is now on my chest. Once again in the midst of my screams I hear the feint whoosh of the whip then the intense pain. My nipples take only some of the abuse the rest is distributed on my tits. I try to back away from the pain I know I can not escape and I plead with my unknown assailant to stop, I promise I will do anything to just please stop but the whoosh and the pain go on and on.

My pussy is throbbing and I feel it is yelling at me and demanding that I allow it to go where it wants to go. I mentally scream back that I want it too but I have no control and still the whoosh and the pain. When I find myself absorbing the strikes and controlling the pain it all stops and once again I am left only with the memories of the pain and the severe ache between my legs. I believe I will be left to this misery as I had been left before but once again my nipples are screaming their own song and I feel tremendous pressure building at the base of those nipples. Some force is pulling them down and at the same time clamping to them. There is no sound of movement in the dark room only the constant pressure and pain in my tits. I determine that my kidnapper has attached some sort of weight to my nipples and if I move at all I can sense those weights attached in some way and dangling below my tits will sway and the pain will only increase.

My pussy once again screams at me and the ache that grows in the soft wet folds on my cunt makes me move and cause the weights to sway ever so slightly. It is a cycle I can not break as the pain form the swaying only encourages my pussy to make it's demands and force the weights to sway even more. I am no longer in control and my body shakes causing my nipples to scream and my cunt to become ever more demanding. My body is now in control.

How long this goes on is impossible to measure as I struggled to stop the weights from swaying and to stop the pain. I am mildly successful, I think or have I just learned to accept the pain. I do not know and I no longer care. I seek only relief. I realize that I am no longer looking to go home, but that I crave being allowed to let my pussy orgasm. All I want to do now is to touch that little nub at the top of my slut and release the orgasm that pounds at me demanding release. I no longer care for my life or my freedom, only my orgasm. I call out to the empty room.

"Ok you win, I want to cum, I need to cum please let me cum."

The silence answers me and tells me that I must not be ready that there is more I need to prove to my kidnappers. I do not consider that they could care less and are merely enjoying the pain they give me. When I feel pressure on my legs and that spreads to my thighs I realize that my feet are being pulled further apart and in doing so increasing the strain on my arms as my body lowers with my legs spreading out. I cry but no tears come from my eyes and I feel my pussy stretching open as my legs seem to stretch impossibly further. I am left to endure this new pain and somehow I do. Yet my pussy and my tits are still in pain and demanding release. The weights, which I thought I had learned to endure, have suddenly become more painful and I have to assume they have added more weight to the tethers that clasp my sore nipples.

I am left to endure and I try to ignore the constant demands of my now sopping wet cunt and my hard and tortured nipples and my attempts to do that leave me no time to think about anything else. The continuous pain has made me concentrate on my cunt and my tits. My only thoughts are how to let my pussy release and feel my orgasm envelop my body but I cannot find a way to get there. I find myself for the first time in my life centered on my sexual needs and desires and am amazed that I have been taken here on the wings of pain.

The pain this time erupts in my asshole as I feel something trying to enter that smaller hole. Nothing has ever gone in that back; door not even my own tiny finger and the feeling of this invasion blankets me with fear and of course pain. I feel as though my anal passage will split open as whatever is being pushed inside of me relentlessly fills my anal cavity. I am in too much pain to scream and as the object settles deep in my anus and my body tries to accept the invasion I am assaulted once again my demanding cunt. My body tries, to no avail, to expel the thing from my ass. I want to cry out but there is just too many parts of my body that are being pushed, too much pain coming form too many directions. Yet, amid all of this pain and pressure my pussy becomes more demanding and I can think of nothing more then the orgasm that won't come to me. 

Once again the whip starts but this time both my ass and tits are assaulted and the tremors from each strike ripple through my aching body. Pushing my demanding cunt closer and closer but never letting that damn pussy have its release. I feel my arms being pulled forward and my belly comes hard against some sort of padded bar as my body is now bent in half with my secured arms pulled forward and down. The whipping of my tits has stopped and I enjoy a moment of relief from that pain but the whip on my ass continues. Yet I find my desire to cum overriding my pain. I sense that the tempo of the whip on my ass the pulling of the weights on my nipples has found a way to focus my energy on my need for sexual release, my need to orgasm and I cringe inside at the depth of that need. No longer do I feel the pain completely but a constant increase of my sexual need. I open my mouth to scream or beg, I really don't know and before any sounds are emitted a hard but warm pole of flesh invades. It's a hard cock and it drives itself into my mouth and down my throat making me gag.

As this cock brutally fucks my mouth and throat, I feel a soft warm object licking at my over heated sopping pussy and realize someone else has put their face on my pussy as is licking the copious juices escaping from me. The whip continues and the cock is stretching my mouth wide as it plows back and forth and without thinking I find that the little movement I have in my hips are driving my needy cunt into the face below it. My first orgasm screams through me almost as soon as that tongue touches my swollen hard clit but the night does not end yet. I cannot stop the surge of orgasm that rips thru me, not even when the cock that had been drilling my mouth pulls back and sprays it's hot cum all over my face. I can feel the warm sticky mixture coating my skin and oozing down my cheeks and then my mouth is filled again with another cock. Not as large or long and a bit more gently this second cock also fucks my mouth but elects to leave his ejaculate in my mouth and I have little choice but to swallow.

The pressure in my ass is being altered as the object that has resided in my anal passage is twisted free and pulled out, I feel my pussy spasming on the face below me and then it is gone. Another hard cock is now forcing it's way into my pussy and my orgasm continues to rage driving me insane with pleasure. When the pressure returns to my asshole I realize it's a live cock this time and I am going to lose my anal virginity. After the agony of the first object this cock slides in fairly easily, though with the second cock filling my cunt both holes are now very tight. The two cocks saw in and out of my two lower holes and another fills my mouth. Soon I lose count of the cocks and tongues assaulting my tortured body. My tits ache from the weights and my legs and arms are dead from being restrained, but my pussy grabs each cock and my ass accepts everything shoved in its passage and cum is everywhere. My pussy squishes with each new cock as the sperm; amassing inside my cunt' is pushed by the latest invading cock. I've swallowed lots of sperm and even more of it has coated my face, hair and chest as so many cocks find a way to release their load on or in my body. At some point it all stops and a little later the spasms and ticks coursing through my ravaged body subside and I pass out.

When I awake I am in a familiar room, my own. Yet I am still naked and I feel the remnants of pain throbbing in my tits, pussy and ass. I want to look at myself but am afraid. A voice punctures my thoughts.

"Welcome back Charlotte, I hope you enjoyed yourself."

I look up to see a woman standing near me looking down. I am shocked by her question. So shocked that I first have to question my own memories.

"Was it a dream or was I kidnapped and repeatedly raped and used?"

"No dream Charlotte but not really a kidnap either. More of an unknown choice of yours."

Too stunned to speak I instead look at this creature and although she is stunningly beautiful, almost as tall as I am but her hair is a dark brown and half my length. Her body though is well toned, though hard to see in the clothes she chose to wear. In any other circumstance my first thought would be that she was attractive and must have a great boyfriend or husband. But I am disgusted at her suggestion that what happened to me was not a violent rape. She said.

"I don't suppose you recall signing up for and filling out tons of forms for a guaranteed fantasy vacation from your life, do you?"

"Yes, I did, but this was no vacation, this was kidnapping and rape. Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Betsy and what you've just gone through was what we promised you. Remember all of those forms and all of those interviews you had? They were all specifically designed by professionals to learn your true desires. After analyzing all your words, reviewing all the books in your apartment and how you answered the test questions, it was decided that this was something you'd really like to experience but were afraid to do. So we set up your vacation time from work and snatched you on your way home. The rest you know. I was there and you were spectacular"

Too stunned by her explanation I said nothing. I do recall responding to an ad in the local paper about a free vacation. I also recall the initial interview where I was told that they would put together a special package based on my profile and designed to help me "get out of the rut" of my current life, if only for a few days. So I answered many questions, took a number of those preference type tests and allowed them access to my apartment to see my current life. Finally I said.

"But I thought it would be choice between Disneyland and Mountain climbing. No one ever said it might include some rape, some whips or anything like that. I hope you don't think I'm actually going to now pay you for my own rape, much less not call the police and have you and all your friends arrested for what you did."

"Charlotte, now we understand your reaction. We have been providing this fantasy vacation thing for a long time and while we get it right most of the time we do fail once in a while. That's one of the reasons that no one pays anything up front or immediately after. Our firm guarantees satisfaction or the whole adventure is free. Also I've brought copies of the all the papers you signed that day and if you read them you'll see that you granted us permission to create your personal fantasy vacation regardless of the cost or type. On another sheet you signed, you absolved us of any liability too. So you see Charlotte some part of you was willing to just let go and see what would amaze them."

"But why kidnapping and rape? Am I the type of girl who wants to be taken and violently raped?"

"No, not in the true sense but you are the type of girl who wants to be used sexually in a way where what happens is not her fault, not something she conscientiously consented to, regardless of how exciting it might seem to her in her dreams."

"I was whipped and my ass and breasts are still sore, my vagina is sore from use as is my anus."

I took the time to actually look down at my body. My breasts were black and blue and my nipples were dark red, inflamed and angry looking. My chest and legs were covered with what must be dried cum and my wrists and ankles were etched with the reminder of my tethers. I could not see my ass but assumed the red streaky welts on my tits would be similar to the marks I'd see on my ass. I looked at Betsy who was watching me examine myself and she said.

"You have a beautiful body, Charlotte. You are a beautiful woman and when we finally let you cum you amazed us all at the force of your sexual release."

"Why you? Why are you the one to be here with me? Why is it your job to explain all this to me?"

"Well first of all in your session there were only a couple of women as we really weren't sure you'd enjoy that. I was one of them and it was my tongue that first touched your clit and had the pleasure of feeling the full brunt of your orgasm. Later when you licked my pussy your passion remained and I came easily from your ministrations."

"I don't remember doing that."

"By that do you mean eating my cunt to orgasm? Don't be afraid of you sexual desires Charlotte. It doesn't mean your some sort of lesbian because in the midst of a gang bang you actually licked another woman!"

"No, really, it's not that. I've been thinking for a long time about, how did you put it? Eating another woman!"




Charlotte



I watched Betsy blush as she realized she'd read me wrong. Then it was back to business.

"Any way in this bag; are copies of all the forms you signed, the nipple clamps we used, the anal plug, and anything else we might have used on you and a DVD of the entire event. If you come to the conclusion that you didn't receive the fantasy you wanted then there is no charge, if so then the bill enclosed would cover your costs. Any last questions before I allow you to rest?"

"Betsy, would you stay with me and help be clean up and maybe watch the DVD with me?"

"It's not part of the package but yes, I'd be happy to help you."

I let Betsy bath me and found her touch not only soothing but stimulating. I'd been thru a lot recently and thinking of her sexually was really stupid on my part, but she was pretty, I was naked and her touch was so gentle. As we settled on the couch and were about to press play on the DVD I said.

"The room was dark I could not see a thing how did you film this?"

"The room was actually well lit. We'd place a shield over your eyes, like a big contact lens that prevented you from seeing."

As the film played I watched everything that happened and relived the fear in the beginning, the pain throughout and then the joy of orgasm at the end. I'd been fucked so many times I still could not count and I saw that Betsy and the few other women standing around were using their mouths to prep the guys waiting to use me. I watched all the cocks spew their cum on me and for those who erupted in my pussy and ass I felt them too as I watched. I found myself horny and needy with my hands between my legs by the time the film was over. Betsy looked at me and asked.

"Would you like me to do that for you Charlotte? Would you like me to lick that sweet pussy of yours for you? Did the sight of you being fucked and used over and over again make you hot and horny again?"

"Yes."

Was all I could say and Betsy didn't need anymore as she opened the bathrobe I was wearing and moved in between my already spread legs. I was too horny and too tender for her to be able to enjoy me for long before I exploded on her tongue. But instead of staying there she moved up beside me and held me. 

"Charlotte, would you like me to stay longer?"

I nodded and she asked.

"Should I get my own toothbrush and change my mailing address?"

I smiled and nodded.

She smiled back at me and said.

"Oh by the way love, another part of your fantasy is exhibition and the video we just watched?"

Nervously I nodded and said.

"Yes, what about the video?"

"Well it's been posted on the net and as of the moment before you woke up today it had over 200,000 hits. That's how many people have downloaded you Charlotte. How does it feel to know that your rape, as you call it, is now available for anyone to watch?"

"Actually Betsy, I think you are going to use that tongue quite often, and I may use my own too. Come on let's find a place we can be comfortable I think it will take a while for me to stop wanting to fuck you girl."



Charlotte



Many thanks to Dawnj for editing and general advice. Any mistakes are mine. 

***** 

December 24. As usual, the firm was about to close for the festive season. The presses would be stopped for the time being and even the proofreaders went home without a text and a deadline. The entire staff had gathered in the canteen, and Mr March, the big boss himself, handed out the Christmas boxes to all staff. To all staff present, that is - Charlotte Tenson, his secretary and general dogsbody, wasn't there. She hadn't been in for a week. 

"Okay then," March said. "One left." 

"Fatso's off sick," Dillon, one of the young employees who worked in the shipping department, said with a smirk. "Chubby Tubby..." He was a cocksure, good-looking young man with a sneering voice. 

March gave him a withering look and the young man's smirk faded from his face. March could get very angry, as everyone in the firm knew, and especially when it came to a lack of courtesy, he was never amused. He ran his business along the same lines as his father before him, somewhat old-fashioned but very solid. 

"If you can't behave..." he said. He didn't finish. He didn't have to; everyone knew exactly what he meant, and it was well understood that the young man had better not speak out of turn for the next three years - March had an elephant's memory. 

"Could anyone deliver this to Charlotte?" 

The young man who'd just been told off had to bite his tongue not to make another snide remark. Most others showed a lack of enthusiasm, too. March looked at his staff with raised eyebrows. 

Matt Thorne, one of the proof-readers, rather like Charlotte. He always said hello to her when he came to March's office - which wasn't too often as he generally used his email to get things done - and he'd always thought of Charlotte as a nice woman. She had auburn hair, a nice smile and she always greeted him by name. She must be in her early thirties, he guessed, and she invariably dressed well. She was somewhat plump - but in his opinion the nasty terms Dillon had used were completely beside the mark. On the contrary. He thought she was quite beautiful, and not a little attractive. He definitely thought March was right to silence Dillon. 

"Has she been ill long?" he asked. "I certainly don't mind delivering the box to her - if it doesn't take me hours, at least. Where does she live?" 

March explained. It was roughly in his direction; it would take him about half an hour extra, he expected. 

"That's near enough. I'll go and see to it that she gets it," he said. 

"Thank you, Matt," March said. He lived in the other direction altogether. "Charlotte is a good girl and she really deserves it. I do appreciate it!" 

"Right-oh," Matt said. He had always been on speaking terms with March, and he'd known his mannerisms for a long time. March's appreciation was real; he smiled a little. "I think everyone deserves some good cheer. She actually knows my name, even though I don't see her too often." 

Dillon looked at Matt in a pitying way, but Matt stared him down. If the younger man thought he could get away with such behaviour, the more fool he. 

"She knows everyone by name - and most by character," March said pointedly. He wished everybody a good time and a good Christmas, and the staff slowly left for their cars. 

Matt carried the two boxes along and dumped them onto the back seat. He'd been given Charlotte's address and punched it into his satnav. Then he drove off. 

He had no trouble getting to Charlotte's abode. There were no lights on in the house she lived in, and the upper floor curtains were closed fast. Matt pulled up at the kerb, walked up the steps, and rang the bell. 

It took a very long time before he heard uncertain footsteps come shuffling down the hall, and Charlotte who opened the door looked a sight. My God, Matt thought, she's really ill. 

"H-h-h-hello, M-M-M-Matt," Charlotte said. "I-I..." 

She stood swaying on her feet. Matt put the box down and grabbed her shoulders just in time - she was about to keel over. "Shhh! I'll go and help you back to bed first," he said, "and then you may talk, ok?" 

Charlotte nodded miserably. She let herself be led upstairs by Matt, who put an arm around her waist. Her bedroom door was open, and he noticed a sour smell. Matt inspected the bed; Charlotte had obviously been sick in it. 

"Come," Matt said, "you cannot go back into that. Let me see to it first, please." 

He let her down into a chair, slowly, and then he methodically stripped the bed. He looked in the wardrobe for sheets and pillowcases, and quickly remade it. Then he told Charlotte to take off her robe. The nightdress under it was soiled; she apparently had thrown up over it when she was sick. 

"Charlotte," Matt said, "you can't go to bed again in these. Can you change on your own, or do you want me to help? Or is there anyone I can call?" 

Charlotte shook her head slowly. Her loneliness and Matt's having to see her like this were just too much. To Matt's embarrassment, she began to cry soundlessly. 

"No friends? No family?" 

Charlotte sniffed. "One friend, but she's gone to her family up north, and my family's up north, too - what's left of it." 

"Okay, then," Matt said. "Shall I help you?" 

She sighed, but she nodded. "Yes" she said. "Please - don't laugh." 

Matt raised his eyebrows, but he set about helping her get undressed. Her nightclothes were really dirty and they smelled awful. He couldn't help looking at her breasts as he lifted her nightgown over her head. They were big, with really large areola, and, he thought, very beautiful. 

There was a washbasin in the corner of the bedroom, and Matt went and turned on the tap. It didn't take too long before the water was warm enough to wash Charlotte a little. 

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I'm no professional. I'll do my best to get you a little fresher, though." 

Charlotte let herself be washed. She was too tired to try and do so herself, and she realised that Matt was right, she couldn't go back to bed between clean sheets in a soiled nightgown. She actually didn't mind his hands on her; he was tender and fast, and perhaps not professional, but good enough, and he didn't recoil from her body. 

Matt had to make an effort not to pay too much attention to those beautiful breasts. He rather enjoyed washing her. She was really plump, exactly the way he liked - not, he thought, like those emaciated catwalk models with their sunken cheeks and staring eyes, or his one-time mistake of a girlfriend. Just a nice, soft handful of a woman. He inwardly grimaced at his thoughts. 

When he had got her fresh and smelling good again he went and found a clean nightgown and a pair of panties, and he helped her into them. 

"That's better," he said. "Would you like to visit the toilet first?" 

Charlotte shook her head. "No," she said. "There's n-nothing left inside." 

"Hmmm. You'd better change that! We don't want you dehydrated!" 

"I had a l-l-little water - but there's n-nothing l-l-left in the house, and I'm not fi-f-f-fit enough to make some t-t-tea..." 

Her teeth were still chattering, and Matt took her arm and helped her onto her bed. Then he tucked her in. 

"I want you to get warm," he said, "and I'll go and inspect your larder and then I'll bring you something to drink first." 

He went downstairs, to find the front door still ajar, and the Christmas box sitting on the top step. It had started to drizzle, and he quickly picked up the box and closed the door. 

He entered the kitchen and went through her fridge and her cupboards. She was right; there wasn't anything there, apart from a few tea bags. Nor did the pantry offer anything much. He opened the Christmas box to find some orange juice - not useful now, he thought - and a lot of stuff that would be great for a hale person, but not for Charlotte in this state. 

He made her a cup of weak tea and took it up to her. He propped her up and fed her the tea. 

He found a thermometer in the bathroom and took her temperature. It was only 37.9, to his relief. No immediate need to call a doctor. 

He told her he would be away for a little time to do the shopping. Where could he find her keys? She told him, and he left the house. Boy, what a good thing he'd gone to deliver that box! The poor girl. She must have had an awful week. The drizzle had turned into a steady downpour, and he hurriedly got into his car. It had been grey for the past ten days - just the weather to go with Christmas, it seemed. A white Christmas? Pah! Grey and dull green, just the way he usually felt around the festive season. 

He went to Tesco's in the neighbourhood and bought everything he thought he might need - food, some candles, something nice for when she'd feel better, a bottle of wine - and he stopped by at an off-licence for a bottle of his favourite whisky. He was satisfied with his shopping, and he went back immediately. 

He took his purchases into the kitchen and went upstairs to have a look at Charlotte. She lay on her side, fast asleep; she hugged the duvet so that he had a good view of her back and bottom, in a pair of thin, pink panties. The sight was good for another couple of uncalled-for thoughts. He carefully took the duvet from her embrace and covered her up, and he stood looking at her sleep for a little while, shaking his head. 

Then Matt went down and unpacked his purchases and put them away, together with the contents of the Christmas box. He put a kettle with water on the stove and then went upstairs again to collect the sheets and clothes to be washed. The wash basket was full, too, and he first put the contents onto three heaps - the 90 degrees stuff, the 60 degrees stuff and the 30 degrees ones. It was a good thing he was a self-sufficient single man who knew how to do for himself. 

There was one week's underwear in the basket. Charlotte couldn't be too negative about her figure, he thought; she wore beautiful underthings. He felt himself getting hot and bothered, sorting them out and imagining Charlotte dressed in them. He decided to do the sheets first - they might be needed again soon, after all. 

While the machine was working, he cooked some rice and chicken, and he prepared some crackers with cheese. When everything was ready he took the food and another mug of tea up to his charge on a tray. Charlotte was still asleep. She had turned over and now she lay facing him. Matt put down the tray and sat in the chair she'd used while he was making the bed, looking at her. 

Her auburn hair lay plastered to her forehead, and the eyes under the dark lashes were closed. She had a sweet face with a really beautiful mouth, and Matt wondered what it would be like to kiss her. Oh well, that wasn't what he was here for. If he didn't wake her, the food would go cold. 

"Charlotte?" he said. 

She opened her eyes and looked at the room. Then she saw him, apparently, and she blushed. It made her look even more attractive, Matt thought, and he wondered why she blushed. 

"I prepared some food for you," he said. "Do you think you'd like to try?" 

She nodded. "I'd better," she said. "B-b-but..." 

"I'll try and help out," Matt said. 

"B-b-but..." she said again, "m-m-mustn't you go home?" 

Matt gave her a smile that, he hoped, might be comforting. "Not I," he said. "No pets, no people. I'm master of my own time. Come, let's try and get you back to health again, okay?" 

"Yes, please," Charlotte said. "It's really no p-problem for you?" 

Matt shook his head. "Really and truly," he said. "I was prepared to have a lonely Christmas, reading, but it seems Lady Luck had different ideas. So I'll be here for the time being. I hope you'll want to celebrate Christmas with me." 

He propped her up in the bed, and draped her gown round her shoulders. "Hmm," he said and wrinkled his nose. "Your gown could do with a soak, too." Then he sat down on the edge and said, "Rice and chicken, or crackers and cheese?" He grinned. "I'm afraid I won't make a very good air-hostess." 

It produced a faint smile on Charlotte's face. 

"Rice and chicken, please," she said. "And I think I like to have you around." 

Matt nodded. "Good," he said. "Because I'll be here till you're really better again. I'll feed you, okay?" 

Charlotte nodded. Her hands were too shaky. Matt fed her small spoonfuls and slowly but surely Charlotte ate a little over half the portion Matt had made. Then she said it was alright, and could she have some crackers later? 

"Sure," Matt said. "More tea then - you'll have to make sure you drink enough." 

She slowly drank the tea - she could just manage. Matt watched her drink. Even in this situation she was really beautiful, he thought. She had big brown eyes, a sweet mouth, soft cheeks... Come on, brother, he thought, stop it! But it didn't work, and he found it hard to take his eyes from her face and from the indication of her breasts under the gown. 

When she'd finished he took the mug from her. He brought her her toothbrush and when she'd brushed her teeth he helped her to lie down. 

"I'll have to leave you alone for a while," he said, "to pick up a pair of pyjamas, my sponge bag and a change of underwear. Do you have a spare bedroom? I can bring an air mattress if need be." 

"Next room on the landing," Charlotte said. "Will you look in on me when you're back?" 

"Of course. Is there anything I can bring to entertain you?" 

"I just love it when there's someone there. Er... You could read to me, perhaps?" 

Matt smiled. "I'll see what I can do," he said. "I may be so boring a reader that you'll fall asleep. And I'll bring some music and stuff." 

He tucked his charge in. "Will you be alright?" he said. "Or should I take you to the bathroom first?" 

Charlotte shook her head. She lay looking at him from her pillow, smiling at him - a little tiredly, but smiling. Her hair lay around her head on the pillow, and Matt was glad he had a reason to leave the bedroom before he'd say or do something awkward. 

"I'll be back soon, Charlotte," he said. "Later!" 

He took her robe downstairs and put it in the machine, with a few other items of clothing. Then he left the house. 

Charlotte lay drowsily thinking about the previous week and the day's events. She'd come home feeling knackered, and she didn't have much of an appetite. She had been too tired to go shopping, and she'd eaten the last food in the house. That night she fell really ill. She couldn't remember what had happened, but she had emptied her stomach and she'd been too ill to reach the bathroom - she'd been too ill to get up. She'd slept most of the time. Today was the first day that she felt even a little better. The woozy dreams had stopped; that was one thing. 

She knew Matt by face and by name, but he seldom came to the office. He had always seemed a very pleasant person, cheerful, friendly and handsome enough. She'd never expected she'd come to talk to him much; but he was a pleasant nurse, she thought. To her delight, he didn't seem to think she was an ugly, fat woman. She'd received an anonymous letter some ten weeks ago that simply said, "Chubby "Fatso" Tubby - yech!" 

Her thyroid gland had always been a problem, and it made it hard if not plain impossible to regulate her weight too well. She tried to, nevertheless, and she thought she had it reasonably under control. It seemed a lot of men didn't think so, though. Mr. March was alright. And Matt. He'd always looked at her as if she was a normal woman, and not some monstrosity. Dwight, her one-time boyfriend, had loved her - but he had contracted lung cancer and died when he was only twenty-one. 

She vaguely wondered what it was like not be alone all the time. Jessie, her friend, was usually there for her - but it wasn't the same; it wasn't someone to wake up with, to go through life with. Much too bossy, for one thing. And she wasn't attracted to women at all. She fell asleep on that thought. 

Matt drove home in about twenty minutes. He deposited the Christmas box on the kitchen table, went upstairs and chucked everything he wanted into a small suitcase - clothes, razor, some books, a few CDs and his laptop. Then he locked the door and drove back. 

He first went into the kitchen. The washing machine had ended its programme and he hung some of the clothes on a line in the scullery and put the robe in the tumble dryer. He loaded the machine again with Charlotte's underwear and a few T-shirts. He made another mug of tea, and a cup of coffee for himself, and went upstairs with the mugs on a tray and his suitcase. He put the tray down on the floor outside the bedroom, dropped his suitcase on the bed in the spare room and took out the books he'd brought to read to Charlotte. He went back to the landing, picked up the tray and went into her bedroom. 

She hadn't moved since he'd left and she lay peacefully sleeping on her back. He moved the small table a little closer to the chair, put the tray and books on top and sat down. He looked at the sleeping beauty for a moment - and then he coughed softly. 

She opened her eyes and looked around the room. When she registered his presence, she smiled. 

"Hi! So you're back," she said. 

"Yes," Matt said. "I like looking at you sleep. You do look a little better." 

"I feel a little better, too. I'm thirsty, though." 

"That's good. I made you some more tea - better take it a little slowly at first." He picked up the mug and gave it to her. Then he sat down to have his coffee while Charlotte drank her tea. 

When she had finished her mug he took it from her, and she lay down under the duvet and looked at him. "It's the twenty-fourth today, isn't it?" 

"It is," Matt said. 

"Christmas Eve... Look, there's a bottle of wine in the Christmas box - I chose what's in them, you know. I would have bought some candles to create some atmosphere, if I'd not fallen ill, but I'd love you to have a glass up here - that will feel a little Christmassy, at least. Will you?" 

"Of course. Can I bring you anything?" 

Charlotte shook her head. "I'm fine," she said. 

"Okay then." Matt went downstairs and opened the wine bottle. There were no wine glasses in the kitchen, so he inspected the cupboard in the living-room. Yes - right at once. He poured himself a glass. He took it upstairs with a box of matches, a few of the candles and a couple of saucers to place them on. 

He found Charlotte still wide awake. When she saw the candles her eyes lit up, and she said, "Oh - how nice! That's really nice! We can have a little Christmas together." So Matt had felt that it would be nice to have some Christmas cheer, too - with her! 

Then she rubbed her eyes. "Sorry," she said. "It's stupid, but I'm just so happy to have you here." She sniffed and blew her nose in a tissue from a box on her bedside table. 

"Good," Matt said, and smiled at her. "Cheers, Charlotte! I'm glad to be here." He raised his glass and nodded at her. "Shall I read to you, then - or would you rather take a nap?" 

"Please!" she said. "As if I could sleep now." 

Matt nodded. "Shall I choose?" he asked. 

"Yes, please," Charlotte agreed. 

"Good. I'd like to start with a chapter from a children's book, right?" 

Charlotte didn't protest, so Matt opened the top book. 

"This is from The Wind in the Willows, a chapter called 'Dulce Domum'," he began. "The sheep ran huddling together against the hurdles..." 

Charlotte lay listening to him read Kenneth Grahame's story of the Mole and the Water Rat preparing the coming of the Yule-tide carol singers at Mole's home. She remembered having read it, long ago; she'd forgotten, but it came back slowly but surely. She'd not realised then how well-written it was. She quite enjoyed listening to Matt read. He apparently knew the story well and he paused in the right places. 




Charlotte



Matt looked at his charge now and then, and rejoiced in what he saw. He imagined there was a little colour coming back to Charlotte's face, and she apparently enjoyed being read to. 

When he closed the book Charlotte smiled at him. "Thank you, Matt," she said. "Lovely - and so nice and appropriate just now." 

"Glad you like it," he said. "Hey, please excuse me for a moment. I'll have to go and make myself a few sandwiches. I completely forgot to have anything to eat." 

"Oh Matt! That's all because of me!" 

"It's just me being stupid," Matt said and grinned at her. "Be right back!" 

He quickly went into the kitchen. He hadn't realised till then, but he felt ravenous. He prepared a couple of sandwiches and took them up to Charlotte with the crackers and cheese he'd made for her and the wine bottle. 

"I've brought you something to eat, too, but only if you feel like it," he said. 

Charlotte declined. She lay watching Matt eat. It was really nice to have someone here at this time of the year. She knew the bone-chilling feeling of being alone, and it was a wonderful change. Matt looked back and smiled. She liked his smile - she knew it from the office. It was as comforting as his presence. She'd felt absolutely awful when he rang the bell, and now she thought she would be alright. Hopefully she wouldn't be well too soon... She blushed at the unspoken thoughts behind it. 

Matt finished his sandwiches. "Okay," he said, "are you up to another story?" 

"Yes, please! It's really nice, lying here listening to you - and you do not sound boring at all." 

"I brought another Christmas story for you, by Dylan Thomas. I hope you don't know it?" 

"No, I don't think so. I know some of his poems, and 'Under Milk Wood'." 

"Richard Burton?" 

She nodded. 

"I hope you'll like this. It's called A Child's Christmas in Wales. Matt poured himself another glass of wine and took a sip. Then he started to read. "One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now..." 

Charlotte lay back against the pillow. She listened to the story, looking at Matt and at the candles burning on the low table beside him, and she realised she actually quite enjoyed it. Matt had a nice face, and a nice voice, and he was a good nurse and companion. She let the story draw her in. Sometimes she grinned at the images used, and sometimes she sighed. The 'few small aunts, not wanted in the kitchen, nor anywhere else for that matter' came a little too close to the way she sometimes felt. 

But all in all she really enjoyed the story. When Matt finished reading she sighed, smiled and said, "That was really nice, Matt! I grew up in a town like that." 

"Okay. Where?" 

"In Wales. In Cardiff, actually." She smiled while she thought about it. It had been a nice time. "My parents moved to London when I was sixteen." 

"How old are you now?" Matt asked. "Early thirties?" 

"I'm thirty-eight," Charlotte said, blushing with joy. 

"Really?" 

"Uhuh. And you?" 

"I'm forty-two." 

"Okay. And you don't have a girlfriend?" 

Mat shook his head. "I lived together with one for some years. It seemed all right at first, but we gradually drifted apart. In the end the only thing we still shared was a taste for some kinds of music, really." He grinned. "Jackie was really thin - everything was thin about her. Her body, her sense of humour, her smile. She had a nice face, but it just didn't work out." 

"Do you like thin women?" 

"No. I just liked her because of what we had together at first, but I'd have preferred her a bit plumper." 

He looked at Charlotte and smiled. She was the very image of the woman he'd like to see. When he was seventeen, he'd had a crush on a woman he knew, who was some ten years older. She had been quite a character, he thought. She had smoked a briar, dressed in men's boots, but had worn her hair long and had a beautiful smile. One evening they had danced together, and she had given him his first taste of a French kiss. He had also experienced the sensation of feeling a woman's breasts pressing into him for the first time. He could still remember; his girlfriend's breasts had been nothing like it. Charlotte, now... 

"Like you," he added. 

Charlotte blushed again. "Really?" she said. "You don't think of me as Chubby Tubby?" 

"No! Definitely not! Where did you pick up those words?" 

Charlotte turned beet red. "They were in a letter. There was no addressee, of course..." 

Matt had to wait for some seconds before he spoke, to keep his voice down. That bloody bastard! 

"That's absolutely horrible and unacceptable! I think I know who it was from. I'll have a word with March; if I'm right, the writer will be out on his ear before the New Year." 

"He's in our firm, then?" 

"He is. Still. Charlotte, I think you're a beautiful woman. Let's forget about him for now and have a nice time, shall we?" 

Charlotte blushed again, happily this time. Matt thought it made her look incredibly sexy. 

"Do let's," she said. "Let's just talk a little, please?" 

"Okay. Do tell me, what happened since you went home?" 

She told him, briefly, without too many embellishments. 

Matt shook his head. "It's a pity you didn't tell March exactly what was up," he said. "He'd certainly have taken measures. On the other hand, I wouldn't have been here now celebrating Christmas with such a nice companion. Shall I bring my laptop up here tomorrow for some Christmas music?" 

"Music would be nice! And what will you read to me tomorrow?" 

"I brought a short whodunit, just in case, but if you don't think it's too trite I'd rather read A Christmas Carol to you." 

"Oh, yes! I love Dickens - and as it's Christmas tomorrow..." 

She didn't finish, but she smiled at Matt in a way that did something in his belly that he had completely forgotten could happen, something a little disturbing but very pleasant. 

"Then Dickens it'll be," he said. 

Charlotte smiled. Then she sighed and looked at Matt. "I think I'd better go to sleep now," she said. "Do you mind?" 

"Of course not," he said. He got up and took the candles to the landing to blow them out. He collected the things he brought onto the tray and put them out on the landing. Then he went to the head of the bed. "How about going for a wee first?" he said. 

Charlotte nodded. "I think I'd better," she said. 

Matt helped her along the landing to the bathroom. She was very uncertain on her legs, and she once almost fell but for Matt's presence. When they'd arrived Matt had to help her sit down; she could push down her panties herself. Matt looked away while she relieved herself, but he couldn't help listening. That's something, he thought. Back to recovery. 

Then he took her back to the bedroom. After he helped her brush her teeth he shook up her pillow as she sat down on the bed, and he tucked her in. "Sleep sweet, Charlotte," he said, and he kissed her on her forehead. 

She put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "Thank you very much, Matt," she said. Then she grinned. "Could you sing me a lullaby?" she asked playfully. 

Matt was glad it wasn't too light in the bedroom, for he blushed all over as her kiss affected him physically more than he'd have allowed himself, had he been able to. He cleared his throat and sang Golden Slumbers to her. 

She smiled at him and it made his heart turn over. "Goodnight, Charlotte," he whispered. Then he left the room. 

Charlotte smiled drowsily. Life felt very good suddenly, she thought. Very good. She fell asleep almost immediately. 

Matt put the books in the room next door, and the candles on a low cupboard on the landing. There were some things to be done downstairs, and he went there to carry them out. The washing machine was ready and he hung the clothes on the line. He wished he could see some of the underwear on Charlotte. He washed the dishes, hoovered the ground floor and put the kitchen in order before he sat down in the living room with one more glass of wine. 

There wasn't anything worth watching on TV - nor did he like watching TV very much. Instead he looked about the room, wondering what it could tell him about Charlotte. There was a bookcase that held mainly nineteenth century literature, including a complete series of Dickens, and some modern stuff. The bottom shelf was devoted to whodunits, most of them by female writers, and there was a small selection of poetry. She apparently liked reading, which was to be expected in their firm. There was a stereo in the corner, rather a cheap one, he thought, with a collection of CDs in two tall racks. He went and had a look. It was an eclectic collection, ranging from Mahler to Tom Waits, and he put Blue Valentine into the CD player. He pressed play and adjusted the sound level. Then he sat down, stretched his legs and finally allowed himself to feel tired. 

Blue Valentine was one of Matt's favourites albums. He had always thought the one thing missing on it was Martha, but of course that was on a different album. Still... He got up and had a go through Charlotte's CDs once more. Closing Time was there. Good! 

Mmmm... What a woman. Had he been blind or what? He closed his eyes and saw her face, her smile, and her breasts in his mind's eye. He'd be there as long as she was ill, and then - then he would try and win her over for himself. He wished she were in his arms. Having her smile at him then...he almost ached with the unexpected need of her. He played Closing Time in its entirety, and then went to bed, happy to be there. 

He first looked in on Charlotte. The light from the landing was enough to see her lying fast asleep, one arm under her head and her hair half across her face. She seemed to be smiling in her sleep - he wished it was because of him. He could make out her body under the duvet. She was beautiful. 

Okay - bedtime. He had a quick shower and brushed his teeth. Then he went to bed. He lay awake for a long time, smiling and thinking about Charlotte. That kiss... 

When he woke up that Christmas morning he had to think for a moment before he realised where he was. Oh yes. Charlotte! He got up, put on his robe over his pyjamas and went next door. 

When he came in Charlotte was still asleep, but she woke up almost immediately. She looked around, saw Matt, and smiled. 

"Happy Christmas, Charlotte," he said. He bent over and kissed her cheek. 

"Happy Christmas, Matt," she said. "I'm glad you're here - I dreamt of you." She blushed. "And you have no idea how happy I am to be able to celebrate Christmas together!" 

"Same here, beautiful," Matt said, and smiled at her. "Come, how about a visit to the bathroom?" 

"Yes, please!" 

Matt accompanied her, and he noticed she was a little less shaky on her legs. "Getting a bit better, aren't you?" he said. 

She nodded, but she watched her step and held tightly on to him. He felt her left breast touch his arm; it made him think of washing her the day before and it made him go half hard. He hoped she didn't notice. Oh well, if she did, it couldn't be helped. 

After the bathroom, he took her back to her bed, and said, "What would you like for breakfast, my lady?" 

She grinned. "I'll have the cheese sandwich with tea, please," she said. 

"Toasted or plain?" 

"Plain, please. And perhaps I can try my tea a little stronger?" 

Matt went downstairs and returned with their breakfasts on a tray. He put the tea on the bedside table and the plate before her on the duvet. "Can you manage?" he said. 

She nodded. "Could you light those candles again?" she said. 

Mat grinned, and went to get them. They sat in silence for a while, having their breakfast. 

Then Charlotte sighed and put her mug down. "That's good," she said. "I'm feeling a lot better. Didn't you have any plans at all for Christmas, Matt?" 

"No," Matt said. "I usually go to sleep until it's over." He grinned at her. "But then, I never had the chance to celebrate it with such a lovely companion." 

"Thank you! You really don't mind being here?" 

"Honestly. I hope I'll have to nurse you a little longer." 

She blushed. "You're a sweet talker," she said. 

"I mean it," Matt said. "I'm looking forward to spending these days with you. So you'd better resign yourself to my presence." He grinned and got up to remove the breakfast things. 

"Would you like any more tea, or food?" 

Charlotte shook her head. "I'm not a big eater, you know. I do like something really nice at times all right, but..." 

"So you might say yes when I ask you out for a meal?" 

"Yes, I would! When?" 

He looked at her to find her smiling sweetly, with a happy gleam in her eyes. 

"Let's say New Year's eve, if you're well again." 

"Yes, please! Sounds very nice!" She sat up and passed her hands over her cheeks. "I wouldn't be up to it now," she added. "But I'm looking forward to listening to you read." 

Matt nodded. "Excellent," he said. "I'll go and put the breakfast things into the dishwasher, shower, and then I'll help you wash. Okay?" 

"Yes, please!" She lay back and looked at Matt tidying things up. He smiled at her for a moment. It made her feel all warm inside. He was really nice, she thought. She realised she was actually looking forward to being washed; it was nice to be touched by him. 

"Soon!" he said as he left the room. She heard him descend the stairs, and thought to herself how happy she was it had been Matt who'd undertaken to deliver the Christmas box to her door. He'd patiently waited for her to open the door, and he'd taken charge. Best of all, he looked at her as if he really liked what he saw, and she liked everything she knew about him. Everything. Since she had first met him, she had developed a little bit of a crush on him, if she were honest, but had valiantly suppressed it because, as she kept telling herself, she really knew next to nothing about him, and he didn't seem like the kind of man to want someone like her around. And good looks didn't mean a good heart, anyway. Seems she had been wrong about that. She lay thinking about him a bit when she slowly dropped off to sleep again. 

Matt poured himself another cuppa, cleared their breakfast away, and checked the washing he'd hung to dry. Done, all of it. Good. He would take it off the line and fold it when Charlotte had her afternoon nap. He took a swig of his tea and then his cell phone beeped. He took it from his robe pocket. 

"Hello?" 

"March here. I couldn't reach you yesterday - how was Charlotte?" 

"Poorly to say the least. But she is improving. I'm nursing her a bit; she was too weak to make even a cup of tea." 

"You're at her place then?" 

"Uhuh. Someone ought to take care of her." 

"Oh - and your Christmas?" 

"Much nicer with Charlotte than on my own. I'm rather enjoying myself." 

"Good man. I do appreciate that. Did she see a doctor?" 

"She was without fever yesterday evening - I think she will be all right with some extra care." 

"Okay. Well, hmm... Thank you, Matt. I do value her a lot, you know - when I'm uncertain whether or not to publish anything I ask her, and she's invariably right. So, hope you'll manage." 

"I think I will. Oh, March, there's one thing you may do something about. Charlotte received an anonymous letter saying, 'Chubby Tubby,' and I think I've heard those words before." 

"She did? How exceedingly rude! I will take care of that. That dirty so and so! Can't have that in my firm. You can tell Charlotte I will see to it, please." 

"Good. Thank you!" 

"And say hello to her for me, will you?" 

Matt promised, they said their goodbyes and rang off. 

Matt went upstairs quickly. Charlotte was still asleep, and he went and showered first. When he felt nice and clean, he went back to Charlotte's bedroom. He'd brought Dickens and some proof reading to while away the time, but he'd only read as far as the second page when Charlotte opened her eyes. 

"Hi," she said. "I feel a lot better! I'm up to being washed now." 

She gave him an angelic smile, and he felt himself going hot inside. "All right," he said. "By the way, I had a call from March. He asked me to say hello; I think he was a little worried about you. And he'll take care of that anonymous letter. Let's get you freshed up." 

She sat up and put her legs across the edge of the bed. "March is a good boss," she said. 

"He is," Matt agreed. "Shall we go to the bathroom? Or do we wash you here?" 

"I would love a bath," Charlotte said. "I'm still a little shaky on my legs." 

"Okay. I'll go set the water, shall I? Be right back, okay?" 

Matt went to run her bath, searching for and finding bath salts which he added to the water before returning to her bedroom to get her. "Right," he said. "Let's get you into the bath, shall we?" 

He led her to the bathroom, and helped her undress. Matt felt himself go hard at once. Damn. Charlotte was beautiful, sweet, sexy - the sight of her body worked directly on his crotch. He bent over to pick up her panties and tossed them to the door. Then he helped her into the tub. "Good girl," he said, and smiled at her. She smiled back, rubbed her cheeks and then lifted the water to her face, sniffing it delightedly. 

He fetched the washcloth and went to Charlotte. 

"Face first," he said. She washed her face, looking at him earnestly. He used the dry washcloth to dry her face, then handed it to her, so she could help herself. He decided that he'd better just enjoy watching her wash herself, and help if she got tired. He'd stay hard anyway, whether he'd try to land himself with a guilt complex or not, and he actually didn't feel guilty. On the contrary. 

He washed her back when she asked him to, and then watched as she washed her breasts and belly. Her breasts looked even better than he remembered, and he loved the curve of her belly, too - nicely rounded and really feminine. 

It didn't help him much when he saw her nipples get hard. Oh well, he thought, she can't mind too much. Or she feels cold - but he rather didn't think so. 

He took the towel and dried her face and upper body before taking care of her lower half. 

Two more hurdles - her sex and her bottom. Charlotte half rose and held on to Matt, and asked him to wash her lower back, and he happily obliged, enjoying the feel of those beautiful half-moons. He loved to touch their curves and to feel the way they passed into her legs, and he ran the washcloth between them, from the top to her rosebud. The feeling made her shiver a little, and she held on to his arm and the side of the tub firmly. 

She sat back and took the washcloth from him, taking care of her lower belly and her sex. Mmm... He watched as the cloth slid down her nicely curved belly to her vulva, with the soft, auburn hair, and then as she washed herself in the place he was finding himself increasingly wanting to touch. The sight of her touching herself made him raging hard, and he had to stop himself from groaning. When she washed her legs and feet and then wrung out the rag and handed it to him, her cheeks rosy with feeling, he clenched his jaw tight, and let her finish herself while he smiled at her obvious arousal. 

Charlotte felt very aroused by the way Matt's eyes ate her up as he watched her wash herself. She could see he obviously liked her body, and that made her feel really warm inside. 

She stood up with his help, and Matt dried her off softly, draped her in her robe and led her back to her bedroom, where he retrieved a clean pair of panties for her. 

Charlotte had sat down again. The washing had made her feel all rosy, and her nipples tingled. She wondered if it was just the washing or rather the fact that Matt had helped her do it that was making her body flush with heat. She suspected it was the latter. When he handed her her panties, she flashed him a bright smile. 




Charlotte



Oh baby, Matt thought, you don't know what you're doing to me. 

Charlotte pulled them up around her bottom. They fitted snugly, Matt saw. Nice, he thought. He'd love to feel her bottom through the thin material. He picked up the nightgown and held it up for her to put on, sneaking a peek at her breasts while Charlotte was putting her head through the fabric. 

Then he helped her lie back in bed and went to let the water out of the bath. Having set the room back to rights, he returned to find Charlotte snuggled up under the blankets, and she gave him a warm smile. "Do you like Christmas music?" she asked. 

"Depends," Matt said. "I like carols when sung well, and some of the popular stuff, and baroque Christmas concerts, and The Messiah - my parents once took me to hear it at the Royal Albert Hall. There was a very large choir. In the louder parts, it made your hair move. I've loved it ever since. But I don't like schmaltz too much, and I hate the lyrics of some of the modern Christmas songs - they can be positively moronic." 

"I have a copy of The Messiah on CD - could we listen to it together?" 

"Okay. Then we'll have Dickens this afternoon, after your nap, right?" 

She smiled and nodded. "There's a CD player in the kitchen," she said. "Not too fantastic, but better that a laptop." 

"Okay! I'll go and get it. Can I make you something to drink?" 

"I'd like to try a cup of coffee. Do you think that'd be alright?" 

"I think so, since you feel like it. I'll be right back!" 

Charlotte watched him leave the room. She felt much happier celebrating Christmas than she had in years - even though she didn't feel quite well yet. But she hadn't felt so truly appreciated for a long time. He made her feel feminine and beautiful. Her pussy still tingled and she found it with her hand. She touched her nub, and started to rub herself, imagining Matt was watching her, imagining it was him touching her instead. 

Matt hurried downstairs and put water on for the coffee. Doing things might expel the hot and bothered feeling the washing had instilled in him, he hoped. It did. He carried the CD player upstairs and put it into Charlotte's bedroom, then he went downstairs again. He finished his arrangements within ten minutes. 

Charlotte lay waiting for him, and she gave him a beatific smile when he came in. He smiled back and put the tray with the coffee and the CD box on the chair. Then he handed Charlotte a mug of coffee. 

"Here you are," he said. 

Charlotte took the mug from him and they drank their coffee in companionable silence. 

Matt, who liked his coffee hot, finished first. "It's okay?" he asked, watching Charlotte sip. 

"Yes, it's fine!" she said. 

"Good!" Matt said. "How about a chocolate?" 

Charlotte shook her head. "Not yet," she said. "This afternoon, maybe?" 

"I hope so," Matt said. 

"But you should have one," Charlotte said. "Please do!" 

Matt smiled and had one. Then he found a power point to plug in the CD player and put in the first CD, and when he saw Charlotte had emptied her mug, he said, "Here goes - to Christmas!" 

He switched on the music and sat back, listening to Handel's magnum opus with a smile, and looking at Charlotte who lay listening and staring into the candlelight on the low table beside him. Now and then she looked at him for a moment and he immensely enjoyed the way she looked. He'd have given rather more than a penny for her thoughts, but he didn't want to interrupt the music; there would be ample time to talk afterwards. 

After the aria He was Despised, the music stopped. 

"Wow," Matt said. "You've got a beautiful performance on CD, Charlotte!" 

"Thank you," she said. "I think so, too. Shall we have another coffee first?" 

"Good idea," Matt said. "I'll be back soon!" 

He went to her to collect her mug. She smiled and put a hand on his arm. "I'm so, so happy to have such a nice nurse," she said. 

She smiled at him, and to Matt's surprise he saw a few slow tears run down her cheeks. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped them away. Then he took her head in his hands. He had an idea that he knew where those tears came from, and he said, "I'm happy to be here with you, too, beautiful! Let me get that coffee for you!" 

He was back in a jiffy. "Here you are," he said, and then he sat down on the edge of the bed to have his own coffee. 

"Tell me," he said, "What do you usually do around Christmas? Can I do something to make it nicer?" 

Charlotte looked at him. She liked his eyes. They were blue-grey, and they seemed to be a little sleepy, but she'd noticed that when she mentioned the letter she'd got, they could flash with anger. It was nice to have someone angry for her. It was nice to share things. That was the main thing. His hair was darkish - not really dark, but certainly not blonde. She wished she could run her hand through it. She smiled at him. 

"I usually try to dress my house up a bit - to make it look nice, with some candles and a wreath and things - and then I pretend Christmas is a good, warm time. I usually succeed in tricking myself." She smiled a little. "Sometimes I visit my friend on Christmas day, when she's down here. But she always has her family over, and I usually feel a bit surplus to requirements. It's safer here. I used to love Christmas when I was a child, and I had a boyfriend once. He died of cancer. Ever since, I've lived on my own, and Christmas has been a hard time, best spent alone and not thought about too much. Really a time of pretending for me." 

Matt nodded. "I know," he said. "You're not alone in feeling like that. Celebrating is a matter of sharing, right? So when you have no one to share with, there's only pretence left." He grinned. "March was worried my Christmas would be ruined by nursing you. On the contrary, it's my first real Christmas in years." 

He was silent for some time. 

"I really enjoy this. And I'm very happy to be getting to know you; I've learnt a huge lot about you already." He stroked her cheek for a moment. Then he took a sip of his coffee. "Don't let yours get cold," he added. 

Charlotte dutifully drank her coffee, smiling a little at Matt's words. She loved feeling him close to her, on the edge of the bed. She wished she could prolong the moment forever. She looked at his hands. They didn't only feel good on her, gentle and warm, but they looked good, too. She liked the small hairs on his wrists, and the shape of his fingernails. 

"Yes," she said. "This is what I remember about Christmas, being together with someone you are really comfortable with, and feeling happy, and warm. Being together." She smiled, a little wistfully. "If I hadn't fallen ill, I'd have been on my own now, looking for a way not to feel the loneliness of a Christmas Day, when everything is closed and people are celebrating with their families, and when you are supposed to be happy and cheerful." 

Matt nodded. "So at least something good has come of it for the two of us." He smiled at Charlotte, and she knew he meant it. She blushed, and smiled back at him. 

Matt held out his hand to take her empty mug, and he got up off the bed. "Shall we go and listen to the second part?" he said. 

"Yes, please," she said. She wished he'd just came back to sit beside her - perhaps stroke her hair, or something. But at least he was in the room, and she could look at him, and he looked at her, and it all felt good. Matt started the second disc, and Surely He Hath Borne Our Griefs filled the bedroom. 

The second disc lasted for well over an hour, too, and when it finished it was lunchtime. Matt took Charlotte's orders with a grin; she obviously was getting an appetite again. Good! 

He pottered about happily in the kitchen, and went upstairs with his tray to find Charlotte sitting up, smiling at him. "I'm really looking forward to a bite to eat," she said. 

"I thought there was some life coming back to you," Matt said and grinned. He put a tea towel on the duvet in front of her and placed the plate with food on top of it. "Do you think you can manage?" 

She nodded. "Yes," she said. "Thanks to the perfect treatment I'm getting." She gave him another of her heart-stopping smiles. "You make me feel quite lively again. I'm really looking forward to the Christmas Carol." 

"All right. But I'll want you to take a nap first, young lady." 

She nodded. "I guess I'd better," she said. Then she tucked into her lunch with an obvious appetite, to Matt's satisfaction. He sat down with his plate on his knees and began to eat, too. 

He usually was a fast eater, and when he'd finished he took his plate out on the landing, and went back into the room. "How did you come to work for March?" he said when he saw Charlotte had finished. 

Charlotte smiled a little. She put down her cutlery. "I just applied when he wanted a secretary," she said, "and we had quite a strange kind of an interview. He asked me to have a look at a manuscript he wasn't certain about, and what I would advise, and I had a look through it, quickly. I told him I thought it would be all right, and he asked me to explain why, and I did, and he took me on straight away. He didn't ask me anything about my suitability for the job. We do get on together quite well. March is very formal, you know, but I think he likes me." 

"He does. He couldn't but, knowing you." 

Charlotte smiled, broadly this time. "He always asks my opinion when he's uncertain. And I am usually right about his things." 

Matt nodded. "He told me so," he said. "Okay. And now it's time for forty winks. I'll prepare dinner while you're asleep so we'll have a lot of time together this afternoon." 

He cleared away Charlotte's lunch things and then accompanied her to the bathroom for a wee. She held his hand to be sure, but she was a lot steadier on her legs than she'd been. 

"I'm getting there," she said and squeezed Matt's hand. 

Matt squeezed back and grinned. "Right-oh," he said. "Good!" The walk to the bathroom was done quite quickly compared to the one before; Charlotte was getting confident again. 

Still, when Matt had walked her back to bed she seemed happy to lie down again. "I'll have a nice snooze," she said. 

"Okay," Matt said. "I'll wake you up around three." 

He went downstairs and did the chores that needed doing. Then he went into the living-room and had a further look around. Although he often felt that other people's rooms were unfriendly or ugly, without a single item to please the eye, Charlotte's place simply felt good. The furniture was okay, and so were the things on her walls. There was a small watercolour of an early train station that he found especially appealing - it looked as if you could see the dust in the air under the canopy while looking at the engine come into the shade. 

Then he inspected her music in earnest. He quite enjoyed her taste; it was a lot like his own. He took two CDs from the racks to listen to that night, one an old favourite that he had on vinyl at home and that he hadn't played for years, and the other an album by one of his favourite singers that he'd not heard yet. 

He sat down in a chair and tried to envisage Charlotte move about in the room. Conjuring up her image wasn't hard, but it took some effort to have her move around the furniture dressed the way she would on office days. Somehow her picture seemed to go back to her sitting on the bed half-naked, after her bath. If only she weren't his charge but his girlfriend... 

It was three o'clock before he knew. Okay! Time to wake her up. 

He collected a couple of fresh candles in the kitchen and went upstairs softly, for he loved looking at her sleep, and he took in the picture for a few minutes before waking her. 

"Hello, sleepy-eyes," he said when Charlotte looked about her. "Did you sleep well?" 

"Yes, I did," she said. She made a face and yawned. "Sorry - I'm just a bit sleepy still." 

"Okay. You can sleep a lot more tonight. Want a visit to the bathroom?" 

Charlotte shook her head. "Later," she said. "But I'd love some Dickens..." 

Matt read to her for a couple of hours, and then he went to the kitchen to see to dinner. While he was busy he heard footsteps come down the stairs and he went into the hall to see if Charlotte needed any help. 

She held on tightly to the banisters, but she managed quite well. She wore red striped socks, and slippers, and her robe. 

"I felt alone up there," she said. "Do you mind if I watch?" 

"Of course not," Matt said. He grinned at her and pulled a chair out from under the kitchen table. "Be seated, my lady!" 

Charlotte sat down, sniffing the smell of the cooking and looking at Matt work. He gave her a smile now and then, and he enjoyed her presence. 

"Do you cook every day?" she asked. 

Matt shook his head. "No, not every day - I sometimes eat out with a friend, and I just don't feel like it now and then. You know...having a meal on your own just doesn't taste the same." 

"No," she said. "I know. I try to have a hot meal every day - I usually do. But eating together with someone is much, much nicer." She sat looking at her socks for some time. "It's been so long, you know. I've lived alone ever since I came to London, and in all those years it's been very rare to have someone to share a meal with. At the firm I usually have sandwiches in my office." 

She sniffed the food again. "It really smells good," she said. "Maybe we can have dinner at the kitchen table?" 

"All right - if you're warm enough, that is." 

"I am. I'm really feeling loads better. Shall I try and lay the table?" 

"No," Matt said. "Let's take things one step at a time - I'm happy with your progress, and I don't want you to fall back, okay? But you can light the candles if you like." 

He efficiently laid the table for the two of them, placing a few squat candles in the centre of the table. He handed the matches to Charlotte, and she lit the candles with a dreamy look on her face. 

"Would you like a glass of water with your food, or would you like to try a glass of wine?" 

Charlotte gave it a moment's thought. "I'd like to try some wine, please," she said. "If it doesn't agree with me, you can finish it, okay?" 

Matt nodded. "Yes," he said, "sounds like an excellent idea." 

He went into the living room to collect the wine glasses, and poured the wine for the two of them. Then he sat and waited for the food to be ready. 

"Are you really warm enough?" he asked. "Or do I get you a plaid to wrap around you?" 

"I'm fine," she said. "Really! And the food smells good - I do have an appetite!" 

"Okay. You're really getting back to life!" 

"I am." She sipped her wine. "Matt, what do you like to do in your spare time?" 

He considered the question for a moment. "Well," he said, "I love walking, and travelling - I try to go on holiday at least twice a year, and I've visited quite a few places. The sad thing is that other people always seem to come in pairs. When I was younger, I owned a motorcycle, and I had a good friend with whom I travelled the length and breadth of our island. But one day he got hit by a car. The driver just hadn't seen him. He didn't survive and I sold my machine." 

Charlotte shook her head. "That's awful" she said. "Were you there when it happened?" 

"I was. But I was riding in front, so I didn't see it happen. I just heard the crash." He sighed. "It was awful. John died, and that driver was devastated. I was rather scared in traffic for a long time. I tried fell-running instead, but it didn't work out for me. And here, in the city... I do enjoy city-trips, and the occasional exotic holiday, and I enjoy reading, and music. I'm not into gardening. And you?" 

He went to the stove and checked the food. "Almost done," he said. 

"I'm rather inclined to stay at home," Charlotte said. "Going places alone doesn't feel good, and going out isn't too nice, either. I used to go out with Dwight, but I stopped when he fell ill. I do a lot of reading, and I like music. My father had a large collection of records. I do like armchair travelling. It would be nice to have a friend to travel with." She looked at her glass, and swirled the wine around. Then she nodded, half to herself. "It really would," she said. 

"Yes. Much better than travelling alone." He consulted his watch. "The food is ready, I think." 

Matt put the pans on the counter, removed the lids, and served dinner. Charlotte tucked into her food enthusiastically, and Matt sat watching her eat with a smile. She didn't eat a lot, but then she'd told him she wasn't a big eater. But she obviously liked what he'd concocted and paid a lot of attention to it. 

He had an appetite himself, as he hadn't had any dinner the day before, and the food did taste good. He was not really a good cook, but he could make something very passable when he put his mind to it. He considered his situation and smiled happily. After the main course they had a small portion of Bulgarian yoghurt from the fridge. 

"Isn't it nice to sit here eating together? I suppose I shouldn't, but I'm really glad I came here to find you in need of attention." 

Charlotte nodded. "You know," she said, "you said you'd have gone to sleep until Christmas was over, but what would you really have done? Without being flippant?" 

Matt looked at her pensively for a moment. "Well," he said, "I probably wouldn't really have done anything different than usual. Reading a lot, most of the time, and then being too restless to, and going in for a fit of eating the wrong things. I don't fancy eating out on my own too much, and I sometimes just go for crackers and cheese. I would have gone out to buy some music. I really would have tried to ban Christmas from my mind, though. This way it's wonderful, but home alone...no." He pulled a face. "I might also go to bed far too late at times, and sleep badly. I slept like a baby last night." 

Charlotte sat and listened. She thought Matt's way of dealing with loneliness wasn't too different from hers. "I do try to keep my time and life in check, and I generally almost succeed," she said. "Rather like the way you cope." 

Then she finished her sweet and sighed deeply. "I guess I'd better go back to bed now. Thank you for a lovely dinner, Matt!" 

"Thank you for being such good company, Charlotte! I'll come upstairs with you to see you to bed safely." 

They ascended the stairs slowly, but Matt thought he really saw a lot of progress. He stood beside her as she brushed her teeth, and before she lay down he shook her pillow and he tucked her in. She smiled at him. 

"I'll see to the washing-up," he said. "I won't be long." 

He did, and tidied up the kitchen. He took the dry washing off the line and folded the things that didn't need ironing while the coffee was making. When everything was ship-shape again he took the folded clothes and the coffee upstairs. 

Charlotte was asleep. Her breathing sounded very regular, and, Matt thought, nice. He deposited the tray with the coffee cups onto the side table and put the clothes into the wardrobe, neatly piled up. Then he lit the candles again. He sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked Charlotte's hair. She stirred and slowly opened her eyes. 

"Hi!" she said. "Mmmm - that smells good!" 

Matt grinned. Charlotte sat up, and he gave her one of the cups. "Would you like a chocolate with your coffee?" he asked. 

"Yes please," she said, and she looked at Matt as he picked up a small bowl with chocolates - shaped like bells and stars - and presented it to her. She took a star and nibbled it slowly. 

"Shall I proceed?" Matt said. She nodded, and he picked up the Christmas Carol and continued reading. 

Charlotte loved it. She lay looking into the flames, and now and then at Matt's face, and she listened to the well-known tale with a heart filled with joy. Mat read until he had reached the end of the Ghost of Christmas Present's visit. Then he closed the book. 




Charlotte



"I'll have a glass of wine now," he said. "We'll finish tomorrow, okay?" 

Charlotte smiled. "Please do," she said, "It feels festive, looking at you have one. Maybe I can join you again tomorrow." 

Matt poured himself a glass and raised it. "To health and friendship," he said. 

They sat talking for a little while Matt sipped his wine, but he saw that Charlotte was very tired. 

"I think it's time for you to go sleep, Charlotte," he said. 

She smiled, tired but happy. "You're right. I think I'd better." 

She got up, and Matt came along to the bathroom where she brushed her teeth. When she sat down to relieve herself he went outside, waiting to accompany her back to bed. He tucked her in and kissed her forehead; and he sang her a lullaby without being asked. 

Charlotte put out her arms towards him, and put them around his neck to kiss his cheek. "Goodnight, Matt," she said. "I love having you for a friend!" 

"Good!" he said. "Sleep tight, Charlotte!" He put the candles on the tray and went out, pausing in the doorway to look back at Charlotte and flash her a smile. He carried the tray downstairs and quickly cleared everything away. 

He spent the remainder of the evening listening to music, thinking about Charlotte and having a stiff dram. When he closed his eyes he saw her clearly - her eyes, her smile, her breasts and bottom. She was beautiful, and she was sweet. She was happy to have him around. But of course she'd been ill, and she might confuse a feeling of gratitude with feelings for him. Then, there was Jackie - he still was very glad that that relationship was over and done with, closed, finished. Did he dare? It was an overwhelming question, and he didn't reach a clear conclusion. He went to bed at eleven, feeling a little confused. 

He looked in on Charlotte for a moment, and when he saw her lying there asleep his heart went out to her. He rather thought he ought to try. 

When he got up the next morning he almost bumped into Charlotte who emerged from the bathroom. 

"Good morning," she said. "I'm really feeling a lot better! Almost back to normal, in fact. You are an excellent nurse!" 

"I don't think I did anything much," Matt protested. "We just let nature have her course." 

"But you cheered me up no end, and that is half the healing process." She smiled. "You do have to read the rest of Dickens to me, whatever else you do!" 

"I will. I'll go and see to our breakfast. Any preferences?" 

She nodded. "Did you buy any cereals, by any chance?" 

"Yes, I did. Cereals, then? Anything besides?" 

"Tea, please." 

"That goes without saying. Will you come down, or would you rather have it served upstairs?" 

"I'll come down. I've lain in bed long enough." 

"Good. I'll get things done, then." 

He went downstairs and prepared breakfast. He realised that his presence wouldn't be required any longer when Charlotte was capable of caring for herself. Oh well, that was what the exercise had been all about. He was happy to see her look healthy again. Still... 

They had breakfast together at the kitchen table. When they'd finished Charlotte went upstairs to shower while Matt cleared away the breakfast things and made the kitchen presentable again. Then he took his turn in showering. 

When he came downstairs again he was greeted by the smell of coffee. 

"I thought you might like some," Charlotte said. "Right?" 

Matt did. They went into the living-room, and Charlotte sat down in the chair he had occupied the two evenings he'd been there. He smiled at her and sat down on the couch. 

"I do enjoy this so much! Shall I finish the Carol now?" 

Charlotte nodded and she sat back to watch Matt and listen to the story. She secretly missed the intimacy of her bedroom a little, but then, it was good to be up and about again. 

When Matt finished reading he went into the kitchen to get them another cup of coffee. They sat together talking. Charlotte really felt up to scratch again, and so they decided that Matt would go home after lunch, to see to things there. 

"I'll prepare lunch, to finish things," Matt said. 

"Or we could do so together," Charlotte said. 

Before they had any chance to do so, the bell rang. Charlotte went to open it, and she returned followed by a woman with a loud voice and, Matt thought, an overbearing manner. She had the unpleasant characteristic of pronouncing all important words in capitals. 

"CHARLOTTE," she said. "You SHOULD have called me IMMEDIATELY! Imagine you having had a MAN to NURSE you! You could have been taken ADVANTAGE of EASILY! You were always FAR too TRUSTING!" 

Matt thought he could notice a faint hint of irritation in Charlotte's manner, but she was much too well-behaved to let it show too clearly. It appeared the woman was Jessie, Charlotte's friend. She tried to take over at once, and she immediately got Matt's hackles up. He wasn't going to get told about. 

One thing was clear, though. With Jessie about the place there was no way for them to communicate in any way he'd like to. 

Lunch was nothing like they'd hoped it would be. Jessie had not said a word to Matt after she had been introduced. She monopolised the conversation, and Charlotte hardly spoke, nor was she expected to. She'd always liked Jessie, but they'd never been together with others. Now she felt very annoyed by her. She'd hoped to talk some more with Matt... 

After lunch Matt went upstairs to pack his suitcase. He found a pencil in his suitcase, wrote a few words on the flyleaf of one of the books he'd brought and put it on Charlotte's pillow. Then he went downstairs and took his leave. Charlotte would have loved to kiss him, but Jessie, who wasn't quite the epitome of tact, stayed at her shoulder and so they just shook hands. 

"Thank you very, very much, Matt," she said. "You were a great help!" 

"Not at all," he said, and looked at her hard. "I more than loved being there. I'll call you soon, Charlotte!" He nodded curtly at Jessie who talked to Charlotte as if he weren't there. Then he waved to Charlotte, went to his car and drove off. 

"Call you soon - pah! I've heard them say that TOO often. They NEVER do!" Jessie said. "You'd better FORGET about him." 

"Jessie, you don't know Matt in the least. Couldn't you just be civil about him? He will call for sure." 

"He won't, and that's a FACT. Let me get you sorted out. I'll see to your washing first." 

"I can do that myself again, thank you, and besides, it has already been done." 

"Nonsense. Don't be silly!" 

"Oh, for heaven's sake, I'm not a child. I don't speak nonsense and I don't see why I should be treated like a certifiable idiot in my own home." 

Jessie turned red. "You could be a little grateful, couldn't you?" 

"Grateful? Why? You ruined our lunch and you ruined my chances to say goodbye the way I'd wanted to the man I want. You're very welcome here, but I don't want a nanny, thank you very much." 

Jessie stood looking at Charlotte transfixed. She'd never known her to be anything but pliable and the angry woman she saw was nothing like the Charlotte she knew. "But..." she stammered. 

"Yes," Charlotte said, "I'm really sorry, but I think we ought to be more on a par, don't you know? Matt has done my washing, and restored the lot to my wardrobe, and the few items I have in my wash basket now can wait. I'm dying for a drink, because I feel upset about it. Would you like one, too?" 

"But...having a man wash your clothes, and drinking in the daytime - even if you feel upset..." 

Charlotte cut her short. "I love Matt. Does that make it clear? He didn't ask if he could or should, he's nothing if not respectful towards people and he can be passionate -" 

"You mean you had sex?" 

"No I don't. But he treats me as if I were a beautiful woman, someone likeable and pleasant, and he was so angry when I told him about an anonymous letter I got. I think he's just the person I want and need." 

Apparently Jessie got the message. She behaved in a much subdued manner the rest of the afternoon, and they actually had a pleasant time together. They cooked - there was a lot of food left from the shopping Matt had done - and had dinner together. Jessie left at eight, and the air between the women had cleared completely. 

"I do hope your Matt will call, Charlie," she said when she put on her coat. 

"I'll tell you when he does. Take care, Jessie!" 

They embraced and Charlotte found herself finally alone again. She went about the kitchen to take stock of what Matt had done. She found he had done the shopping in such a way that there was quite enough food to suit any wishes she might have had. There was a bottle of whisky that had hardly been touched, and there were all sorts of nice things. 

She suddenly understood that he must have paid everything, and blushed. She wasn't quite sure if she thought it was what she wanted. He hadn't mentioned having spent all that money on her for a moment, and she'd been too busy with other thoughts to realise. She sighed. Should or shouldn't she do something about it now? She scratched her head pensively. 

Then she went upstairs and inspected her wardrobe. He'd obviously folded things differently than she would have done; but he'd carefully arranged everything - almost lovingly, she thought. Even her underwear had been given the same treatment. Mmmm... She started a train of thought she didn't dare finish. You never knew; she'd been so positive he would call, but would that lead to anything? And what if she misread the things she thought she'd noticed? She felt suddenly very tired. She locked up, made herself a cup of tea to drink in her bedroom and went upstairs. She sat down in the chair Matt had put her in, and drank her tea - and then she suddenly noticed something on her pillow. She went and picked it up. It was A Child's Christmas in Wales. She opened it. On the flyleaf she found a text in pencil, that read, 

Dear Charlotte,  

Thank you very much for the nicest, 

best Christmas I've ever had! 

Love, 

Matt. 

It made her cheeks go hot. Oh, just suppose he really means it, she thought. Just suppose! 

She drank her tea and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth; then she went to bed with her book, and read it, enjoying Ardizzone's illustrations and the text, and remembering Matt reading it. When she had finished, she carefully put the book away and she fell asleep with a big smile on her face. 

Matt went home feeling rather sad and not a little annoyed that that woman should have come to spoil things. But he was damned if he'd let her come between them. He opened his laptop at once and found the restaurant he wanted to go to. To his delight there was still a table for him for New Year's Eve, and he booked it at once, for six thirty. 

Time to go and get his house in order. The Christmas box still sat on the kitchen table, and he unpacked it and stored the contents in various places in the kitchen and the pantry. Then he went and loaded the washing machine, took the vacuum cleaner around the ground floor, and eventually he sat down and opened his mailbox. 

There was one new email only. It was from March, who told him he had fired Dillon. He wrote he had been inclined to put the fear of God into the young man but when he'd been verbally abused himself he'd seen no other way to solve the problem than a dismissal. Mat replied briefly and told March that Charlotte was better, and that he had had a very good time celebrating Christmas with her. 

He loved his house, but it seemed strangely silent and lonely after the two days or so they'd spent together. He found it actually hard to believe it had really been two days only. He realised he was quite tired, and he decided to have dinner at his local and go to bed straight after it. 

He was in bed by nine, but he found it hard to get to sleep, no matter how tired he was. Charlotte's face seemed to come between his intentions and their execution. He just gave in to it and thought about her - and he suddenly realised it actually was her face he kept seeing, not her body. The realisation took away the one qualm he'd harboured about his feelings for Charlotte; it was obviously alright. He turned on his side, smiling broadly, and was asleep within seconds. 

Charlotte got a phone call the next afternoon at two. "Hello?" she said. 

"Hello, Charlotte," Matt said. "Remember we talked about eating out? You promised you'd come with me, and I booked a table for two for the thirty-first. Is that still okay with you?" 

"You bet," she said. "I'll be there, have no fear!" 

"That's good. Are you still feeling okay?" 

"Yes I am. Oh, thank you very much for the book! I read it before I went to sleep." 

"It's a lovely story," Matt said. "I'm glad you like it. Okay. I'm so happy you'll come. I can't wait to see you again." 

Charlotte slowly broke into a broad smile. "Well," she said , "if you really mean that, you know where I live...and I'm not going anywhere this afternoon." 

It remained silent for a moment at the other end of the line. "I'll be over straight away," Matt said. 

He put down the phone and almost jumped into his car. He drove just a little fast, and was at Charlotte's within a quarter of an hour. 

When he ran up the steps to the front door Charlotte, who'd been waiting for him, opened it. "I just happened to see you coming," she admitted. 

They went inside, and Matt hung his coat in the hall. Then he took both her hands in his. "Charlotte," he said, "I don't just want to see you. I've got something I must tell you. I realised that being with you, even when you were ill, was all I could want from life, and that I don't want to go back to the way I used to live. I think you're sweet and beautiful and lovely and I want you. I need you, Charlotte, I..." 

It was all Charlotte had hoped to hear. She beamed at him and pulled him into her and she pressed her lips on his. She looked into his eyes with a wide smile and opened her mouth to taste his tongue, and she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. Then she closed her eyes, and gave in to the feelings of happiness that washed over her. She rubbed her belly against his body, and she felt the sure sign of his need for her press into her. 

She waited for a short moment and then she freed her mouth. 

"Matt," she said, "I need you, too! Please, come and be good to me, again!" 

Matt kissed her again and stroked her back, her bottom, and her hair. Then he took her hands again, and nodded. "I will, sweetheart," he said. "Come!" 

Charlotte had put on a pink set of underwear that morning, with cream edges and bows, and a cut that made it sit just a bit loosish, which, she thought, was really becoming. She hoped Matt would agree, but she didn't worry overmuch. She could still remember his physical reaction to the sight of her when he washed her, and when she'd touched his arm with her breast. It would be all right. 

It was all right. When they got to her bedroom, Matt lost no time in undressing her. When he'd removed all her upper clothes, he heaved a deep sigh of contentment. "Baby," he said hoarsely, "you are beautiful and delectable and just plain ravishing." 

Charlotte blushed with happiness. Matt hooked his arms around her and made her breasts fall from the cups of her bra. He put his hands on them and she felt her knees go wobbly. Apparently he must have noticed it, for he clasped his strong arms around her and walked her to the bed, where she lay down looking at him. She loved the look in his eyes. It held everything she'd hoped to see in him, the whole gamut from love to need and back again. 

Matt quickly undressed and knelt between her legs to pull her panties all the way down. She was beautiful, and he just couldn't stop from marvelling at her. He stroked the curve of her belly, and her thighs, and then he knelt on the floor and started to pay homage to her legs. 

Charlotte lay back and closed her eyes. She was all smiles, and she realised that this, this now was what she'd hoped for from the moment Matt had helped her take off her nightgown that Christmas Eve. She loved his hands on her, and she loved the knowledge that she was beautiful and desirable, and that the man who actually desired her was the very one she'd been hoping for a very long time would notice her. 

She felt his lips on her inner thighs and a shiver ran down her back. They gradually crept up in the direction of her pussy, and she was dying for him to touch her there. 

Oh! He'd stopped running his mouth and tongue along her thighs. Instead he peeled her pussy open with his thumbs...and then she let out a muffled moan as she felt his nose rub her clit for a second before he stuck his tongue into her. 

Oh my, he's tasting me, she thought. I hope he'll like me... 

Matt had her smell in his nostrils and her taste on his tongue. Life couldn't be any better, he thought. He took one of her labia between his lips and sucked it a little into his mouth. Then he let go of it again and started to lick, nibble and suck her pussy, trying to make her feel good, so good. 

He didn't miss the tiniest part of her sex, and it wasn't long before he had Charlotte squirming on the bed. She'd extended a hand to feel for his head, and she pressed him into her. "Oh, baby," she moaned, "oh please...yes...please!"  

Matt loved what he was doing, and he felt extremely happy. When he heard Charlotte's breathing go ragged, he directed his attention to her clit while he pushed two fingers into her. 

Charlotte felt herself turn to jelly. It seemed as if her clit and her pussy had started on a life of their own, while still being part of her, too...and then she came. Involuntarily, she pressed his face firmly down onto her vulva, while her body seemed to explode in shudders. She lay back with her eyes closed for some time, while she heard the blood throb in her ears, and then, when it subsided, she opened her eyes and looked into Matt's smiling ones. 

"Okay, baby?" he said. 

Charlotte nodded. "Mmmm," she was all she could manage. 

"Good." Matt said. He got up off the floor, and went to his knees on the bed between her splayed legs while he explored her breasts and belly. Her nipples stood taut, proud and beautiful, and he loved to touch them, to roll them and knead them, and to watch Charlotte react to his hands. He bent over her and used his mouth on her again. 

Charlotte loved it. She looked at Matt and flashed him a smile, and then Matt couldn't contain himself any longer. He took his cock in his left hand and found her pussy. 

"Oh, yes, come, please!" It was what she'd wanted for so long! Finally, finally here they were together! She was so wet that Matt slid inside as sweetly as she'd hoped. She was covered in sweat, and there was a film of moisture on her breasts and belly, and the perspiration ran almost into her eyes. But she couldn't care a hoot - Matt's arms were holding her, and his cock was inside her. It left nothing to be desired. 

Matt felt his stomach slide back and forth against her belly, and he loved every second of it. His 25-year-old wish for a soft pair of breasts was finally eradicated by the real thing. He touched Charlotte's lips with a finger for a moment. To his surprise she sucked it into her mouth. The feeling did wonders to his crotch somehow, and when she squeezed his cock with her pussy walls it was too much. He grabbed Charlotte's beautiful buns and slammed into her, rocking the bed as he did so. 

Oohhh, Charlotte thought, this is wonderful. She bucked against his pelvis and fucked him back on every stroke, hard, sweetly and hungrily. She reached out for his head and pulled him close, and then she sought his tongue. She felt completely feminine, and wanted, and loved, a feeling that for a long time she'd not expected she would ever feel. She clasped her legs round the small of Matt's back and pulled him into her as tightly as she could, while she stroked his hair and moaned into his mouth. 




Charlotte



It had never been like that for Matt with Jackie. Sex back then had seemed almost clinical compared to this. Charlotte just loved it and it showed. She had abandoned herself to the feelings of his pistoning cock, and his hands that had gone back to roaming over her body, and his stomach against her belly, and she wished he would never stop. 

So did Matt. Charlotte's belly was soft, and her breasts were warm and sweet, and he loved the way she sucked his tongue into her mouth as she tried to milk him, and the feeling of her arm around his back and her hand in his hair, and, best of all, her eyes looking into his. He broke their kiss for a moment. 

"Baby," he panted, "your illness was the best thing that could ever happen to me - I'm so happy I came and delivered that box!" 

"Mmmm," Charlotte said. "It gave me a travelling companion!" She ran her hand through his hair and pulled his face into hers again. "My love!" she whispered, and then she pressed her lips on his. 

Matt looked into her sweet, brown eyes while he tried to please his lady love in every way he could think of. He stopped kissing her to lick the beads of perspiration from her upper lip, which made her smile, and he loved the tiny crow's feet her smile produced at the corners of her eyes. "You're so beautiful, baby," he said. "I'm so happy you want me, too!" 

Then he clamped his mouth down on hers, and picked up speed. Charlotte closed her eyes and just let all the emotions and all her happiness wash over her while she kissed him back as if she wanted to swallow him whole. She made her pussy walls squeeze him hard, and he loved it no end. It wasn't long before he felt his orgasm build up, and he knew he wouldn't be able to postpone it much longer. 

"I'm nearly there, baby," he said. 

"Okay, sweetie - go for it!" Charlotte hoped she'd come, too - but if she didn't that was no problem. She held him and cherished every moment of their lovemaking, and the only thing that counted was their togetherness. 

She almost spurred him on with her heels. Matt marvelled at her zest and enjoyed the feeling of her body touching his. "Love you, baby!" he whispered - and then he came like rain. 

Charlotte was on the pill, and she loved the feeling of Matt's sperm gushing into her. It sent her over the brink along with him, and she clasped her arms around Matt's body and held on tight, all smiles and sweat and sweetness. 

They lay together for a long time, panting, kissing aqnd revelling in their closeness. Eventually Matt stroked her hair and kissed her from her chin up towards her nose. 

"Brrr..." she said, grinning. "You're tickling me!" 

Matt smiled and kissed her lips. "Thank you, baby," he said. "My love, my fellow traveller... my beauty!" 

Charlotte let her legs drop from his back and she stroked his bottom. "I love being your beauty," she said. "But being your fellow traveller is the best! I told Jessie you would call - she didn't think you would. You're not going again, are you?" 

Matt vehemently shook his head. "Not unless you tell me to - and even then I don't think I will." 

"I won't," Charlotte said. She felt between their bodies for his cock. "Mmm," she said. "Let me wake you up!"



Charlotte



My editor suggested I needed another five stories. She told me in terms and words and pages but I worked backwards and came up with the number five. I needed five more profiles. I had spent three days beginning new tales of sexual debauchery only to grow bored with them before they were done. I don't know if it was full on writers block but I needed some new ideas. I build my characters from real people and I don't know, I guess I had already made every woman I know a slut. I guess I need to meet more people.

I posted the ad online. My responses were funny and sad at the same time. I said simply I was doing research and was interested in talking to sexually liberated women. I wrapped it up with "Are you a slut? Tell me why." I probably shouldn't have used the word slut because most of the responses were guys. At least half of them sent pictures of their penis. I had at least one story idea. 

I was deleting one after another when I came across it. It was promising. She caught my attention when she asked if I needed her real name. I replied that I didn't, that I would love to hear her story. She replied within minutes. She could meet that day. We arranged to meet when she was off work. She wasn't close but the drive wouldn't be bad. She suggested a bar and told me she had red hair and would be wearing a leather jacket.

I spent the afternoon despising my closet for being too small, the clothes inside it for being old and boring and my belly and ass for expanding until the few cute options I actually owned no longer fit. I ended up in Jeans and a T-shirt. I wore my hair up and put on the one pair of boots I have that don't hurt my feet. The only thing I really knew about this woman was that she would have on a leather jacket so I wore my leather jacket. I left early. I arrived early. The bar was charming in a simple pool tables large patio picnic table sort of way. I ordered a beer and waited.

She was late but not so late that I felt inconvenienced. I had finished a beer and was waiting on a second. I guess I am as predisposed as anyone to judgment and based on her emails I expected her to be younger. She was about my age. I would come to learn she was almost dead on my age, older by only 23 days. As first I would have said she was heavy, the jacket and billowing skirt gave the impression she was a bigger girl but when we sat down outside at a picnic table and she removed her coat I saw she had a nice figure. Her breasts were full but not large. She wore a crochet top with a plunging neckline. She didn't tease with a push-up bra and cleavage like most women today, like I do, but instead wore no bra. I guess I am fixating on her breasts. I will move on by just saying they were alluring the way they casual swayed beneath the top. Her arms were fit in the sleeveless top, her shoulders seemed strong like a swimmers. I could see how men would find her attractive. I found her attractive.

She had red hair, it was longer but pulled up in back. It struck me as though it was redder than it should be. I couldn't hold that against her, mine is blonder than it should be. I couldn't help but assume she was crazy. Aren't all red heads supposed to be crazy?

She didn't smile. She ordered a much stronger beer than the lite beer I was drinking. 

"Do you mind if I smoke?" She pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her purse. "Of course not. You probably want to get the full picture of me for your research. Well, you can mention that I smoke. It is an indication of my addictive personality."

I had no idea where to start. "Thank you for meeting me." 

"Honestly, I just thought your post was so off the wall I wanted to see if you were legit." She took another long drag, she seemed to be sizing me up the same way I had been studying her. "You are older than I expected." Another pause as she finished her cigarette and stubbed it out." I was expecting you to be some college student working on a research paper. I planned on being judged by some twenty-two year old girl who didn't know her cunt from a hole in the wall. Shit, did I say that? That sounded awful. I'm sorry."

I didn't want to interrupt but she had stopped talking and the quiet felt awkward. Hardly. No college paper here. I'm just looking for stories from sexually liberated women."

"Sluts."

"Yes. But 'sluts' in a good way."

"Are there right ways and wrong ways to be a slut?" She looked at me with an honest curiosity. Her eyes were a dazzling shade of green. They weren't a mixture of blue and brown or even gray, they were a deep green. I made a note 'houseplant?' as though I could think of something better at a later time.

"I think so. I think a woman can make mature decisions about who she wants to sleep with. I think a woman doesn't need to be locked away as a wife and mother saving herself for one man to use for his own gratification. I think a woman should be as free as a man to identify her sexual needs and find ways to meet them. " I really believe that. "Within reason."

"Within reason." She lit another cigarette. I would end up having one eventually. Cigarettes keep coming up as I write this. I am going to end up with a habit. "Who decides what within reason means."

"Whatever you can get away with before your husband throws you out of the house?" Shit. Two beers.

She laughed aloud. She had a deep, honest laugh. "I had problems with staying within reason, then."

"You've been married?" I asked.

"Twice. They couldn't handle me."

"You cheated?" I felt my line in the sand fading. I so far had avoided stories of infidelity. I guess I thought I could tell the tale of being a slut without having to go down that path. It was feeling as though that wasn't going to happen.

"I'm a slut. Certified card carrying one. I couldn't keep it in my pants either time. Oh well, it is what it is."

"Certified slut?"

"Diagnosed sex addiction. I am also bi-polar, depressive, and if you believe the last one, borderline sociopathic."

"God, sociopathic?" Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

"Yeah. She said I didn't ever consider how my actions would affect other people. I stopped seeing her after that. I do consider my actions. I spend long nights doing nothing but considering them. Of course, that doesn't stop me from doing it so I guess maybe she's right." She looked sad. "Of course, when I just said to hell with it all, I am just going to live like I want to live, the bi-polar crap went away. So did the depression."

"That's good."

"I think so. So. Let's get to this. What do you want to know?"

What did I want to know? I guess I should have planned better. I should have had prepared questions. "You know, I really didn't prepare for this at all." I admitted. I looked down at my notebook as if it would help. I started boring. I found out simple boring stuff. She was 42. She had been married twice. She had no children, she liked them but found she could get her fix playing with her nieces and nephews. She was the youngest of four and said her shrinks all suggested she fucked around to get the attention she had never gotten as a child. She called bullshit. She had a good childhood and still had a positive relationship with her father. 

"Is it so wrong to just like getting laid?" 

"God, I hope not."

"Are you a slut?" she asked me. I blushed for god sakes. I am just ridiculous at times.

"Yeah, I think I am."

"Married?" 

"Yes. Twenty years."

"Christ, how do you slut around. You cheat?"

"I have." I answered in almost a whisper.

"Still cheat?"

"God no." 

"How do you slut around. Women?" She was doing a much better job of interviewing me than I was doing interviewing her.

"We, um, we are in the lifestyle."

"Swingers? Crap. You don't look familiar."

"You are in the lifestyle?"

"I take it you aren't in the market for a unicorn?" She did smile now. It was a small smile and slightly flirty. We had never gone looking for a single bi-sexual female. 

"No, just couples. Mostly small parties."

"You bi?" It didn't seem a come-on.

"No. I um. I like the guys. Maybe a little I guess."

"So you will put on a little show for your man. Make out and suck a titty." She seems vulgar in print but she was far more casual in person and it didn't feel that way.

"Sometimes."

"I run into that all the time. The wife says she wants to be with a girl but really he wants to see her with a girl. So you don't go down on women?"

"I um.. I have..." I was blushing again. She smiled at me.

"Just not your thing though... It's okay." I guess that was it. I wanted to say more. I wanted to explain. I guess the storyteller in my wanted to give her something entertaining and the slut in me wanted to brag. I needed to stay on topic though.

"So you are bi-sexual and play in the lifestyle. You said infidelity cost you your marriages. Have you cheated a lot?" I didn't like my question, I felt like I was being accusatory. I wanted to take it back.

"Lets get more beers, I haven't seen the girl." She left the table and went to the bar. Watching her walk away I was taken both by the way her ass shifted as she walked. Beneath her skirt her hips rolled back and forth in a sashay that made me think of proper women in skirts doing what they could to be appealing beneath corsets and bustles and flowing gowns. Her hair was also much longer than I had suspected only having seen her from the front. Long deep red curls cascaded down her back. The back of her blouse plunged as deeply as the front and her pale skin was dotted with freckles. I'm not into girls. I've said that right.

She carried a tray like a professional server and distributed two beers and two shots of yellow liquid smoothly without any hint at effort. I suspected tequila and declined. "I've read magazine interviews. I am the celebrity so you have to go along with what I want. We are doing shots." She sat back down and I choked down the tequila trying not to throw it back up. I gulped down half my beer to keep it down.

"If this isn't a research paper, what is it? Are you a magazine writer? 'Sexually liberated women' makes it sound like an article for some alt magazine."

"No, nothing like that." I felt the liquor. I don't do shots. I don't typically drink three beers. Later I would see the booze in my notes, my handwriting becoming slowly less legible. "It just for some silly stories."

"You write dirty stories?"

"Erotica." I corrected. It was only since I'd been working with an editor that I myself stopped considering them just 'dirty stories.' "It is an anthology of stories about women who are proud to be sluts."

"And you ran out of person stories and fantasies."

"Kinda." I answered too easily. Fucking liquor.

"Do you want to know about my gang-bang experience?"

"Sure, I guess..." I scribbled notes as she told me the story.

"It was right after my second divorce. I don't even think the divorce was final. I met a guy. God, some guys just suck, you know what I mean. I know I was using him. He was okay looking but wasn't that smart. He ran a tire store for christsakes. We were out late and pretty fucked up. I don't do drugs, not anymore, but I did then. He said he could get some coke. Have you ever done coke?"

I shook my head. I was busy listening.

"He knew a guy. We went to the guys place. I know I did a line. I might have done more. I guess I knew by the way Ray talked what was expected. I didn't give a shit. I was sorta okay with it really. Up to that point I had only been with two guys once and it was a long time ago. I was okay with it really. You had two guys?"

"Kind of my thing." I don't wink but I did my raised eyebrow thing.

"So I did a line or two and I was feeling good. Like, if you have never done coke I don't know how to explain it to you but yeah, I was down to fuck and pretty much went straight for Ray. I was on my knees in this shitty apartment and I am going to town, sucking dick like a pro and then the dealer, he is there and his pants are just gone. He had this ratty old T-shirt on and I remember thinking it was kind of gross but fuck it. I was thinking about fucking and sucking at the same time."

"Fuck yeah." Shit. Yeah, I said it.

"I guess I didn't know the other guys were there. I don't know if they came in after I had started or if they were in a back room. I was fucking scared but shit. You know what? That was the thing. That's what got me off?"

"Being scared?" 

"Yeah. I mean, I was terrified. Who were these guys? I just had no fucking idea what they were going to do to me. I had the high on, so everything was just ten times more intense. I remember... So, I remember I felt like I had to suck everyone. I felt like that was the challenge. I had to have every cock and I wanted them as deep in me as I could take them, you know what I mean?"

"Not like giving head, like being fucked." I added. I knew.

"Fuck, that's it exactly! Thank you. I wanted them all to fuck my mouth. It's... I remember this one guy. He didn't want head. He kept like, pushing me away and I wasn't going to let him. I told him if he wanted my pussy he had to let me suck his dick. He gave in. I sucked him too."

"While they were fucking you?" This was good. 

"Not at first. I mean. I just sucked dick for a long time but then the clothes were coming off. I really had nothing to do with it. My clothes were coming of and hands were just all over me. I know they lifted me up to get my pants off. I hurt myself, or they hurt me. I had like a pulled muscle for two weeks. I ended up on that shitty soft with my legs spread and they took turns." She paused. She took a long swallow of beer and lit a cigarette. I had been right, I took one of her smokes and lit it off hers.

"Does this sound like rape?" she asked me. I felt her tone like a cold blast of air 

I thought for a moment. "Yes." I let the feeling of what she had told me and how I had felt listening to it process. "I think you could call it rape."

"It wasn't though. You get that, right."

"I think so."

"I wanted them to hold me down. I have thought about it. I think about it too much, god, I'm such a slut. I wanted them inside of me. I wanted it rough. They held my legs up. I remember Ray, Ray was right there. Most of them, well the others, they just talked to themselves but Ray, Ray talked to me. He asked me if I liked it. He asked me if I wanted more."

"What did you tell him?" I felt like such a greedy little pervert.

"I told him more. Wanted them to fuck me more. I told him I wanted his cock and he yanked my hair to put my mouth on his dick. He 'fucked my mouth.' I like how you phrased that. I guess that's why you're the writer. I know I was loud. Fuck, it was a crappy little apartment. I can just imagine the other apartments, what they were hearing."

"Did you come?"

"Fuck, did I come. I came like crazy. That's right, you haven't done coke. It was like a fucking hour long orgasm and then they just kept at it."

"Fuck yeah. I remember them talking about it. How the cum spilled out of me. Shit. I should have told you I used condoms. Fuck though, there were no condoms I was a fucking mess. They tugged me to the floor. They bent me over. One guy. He was a fucking big guy. He just kept at it. My cheek, it hurt, pressed against the shitty carpet, my knees, they were all rug burned but that guy. That big fucking guy, he had a beard, he just never came. He had to be on something. I remember thinking, whatever these guys do, whatever they fuck me, however many of them fuck me, I didn't care. I just didn't want them to stop." She paused when the server came. She ordered more beers and more shots. 

I didn't say shit. I just looked at her. I remember all I could think was 'don't stop.'

"Can you use this?"

"I don't know. Yes. Yes. I want to use it."

"Is it Erotic?"

"It will be for some. It will be gross for others. That's how Erotica works. "

"Does it work for you?" Her voice was so quiet now.

"Yes." I think my voice was quieter.

"Good." She smiled. I liked her smile. I wanted her to smile more. I took my shot. It was easier to get down.

"You're turn."

"What?"

"Your turn. Tell me, tell me the dirtiest freakiest sexiest thing you've ever done."

"Like what, like the orgy."

"No, too easy. Something darker."

"My affair?"

"That's dark, but only tell that one if it was kinky or something. Tell me what you don't want to tell me."

I thought for a bit. I guess compared to her story I was stumped for something good enough.

"I don't need details. Down and dirty."

"Pegging?"

"What's pegging?" I guess it was a good one if she didn't know the term.

"I fucked my husband with a strap on."

"Oh... that's good. Did he like it?"

"Um, yeah. He did. It weirded me out a little."

"Dude, guys like the ass. They say they don't. They think it makes them gay."

"It wasn't that, it was... It was the power thing. I mean, I was fucking him."

"No shit. You got off."

"I didn't like, orgasm, but yeah, I got off."

"Like when I told you my story."

I smiled at her. "Yes. Like your story."

"I thought so." A chubby little girl brought more beers. We were quiet for a bit, smoking. I watched her watch a guy at the bar.

"Are you going to pick him up?"

She smiled at me. "You busted me. I thought about it."

"Is that how it works. You just pick up guys in bars."

"Anywhere really. Guys are easy."

"How often?"

"Shit I don't know. When I want. I mean, they don't always say yes. Usually they say yes."

"Once a week? More?"

"You are getting off again. Jealous."

"Maybe a little."

"Just a little?" She was so much better at the interviewing crap.

"So, I don't like first times. Guys are slow learners. It's always awkward, too fast or too slow. They try too hard the first time and I don't get off."

"True. What about swinging?"

"Oh, that's easy to get off. We see the same couples usually but I get off on the other people getting off." I wanted to tell her more again. It was the way she looked at me. She was just so open. She looked straight at you when you talked. I could see how guys went for her."

"So your stories, these liberated women. Their husbands all let them do what they want?"

"Some of them."

"Or they are swingers?"

"Yeah, lots of swingers."

"Write what you know, right?"

"Yeah."

She was watching the man at the bar again. I let her. I needed water.

"We could pick him up. I live really close. We could pick him up and give him the time of his life. That would be a good story. Very slutty."

I looked at the man, he was okay I guess. I wasn't thinking about him though and I looked back at her. "What if he's married?"

"That's a big thing for you, isn't it?" she asked. She looked at me with that look again.

"I want to be sensitive to my readers."

"He isn't married?"

"You can tell? No ring?"

"I don't know about the ring. Guys take off their rings, or don't wear them at all. That doesn't mean shit. It's a Wednesday afternoon and he is sitting alone. Married guys drink with other people. They will be with guys from work, or a woman from work. If you see a guy at a bar getting handsy you can bet he is cheating. He's alone and he's not in a suit, like a businessman out of town. He's single."

"But it wouldn't matter."

"No. I'm a slut. Remember, I have a prescription for shit to take care of it and everything."

"And you don't mind doing that to another woman."

She was quiet. "You won't like my answer. I want you to like me."

She was forward like a man. She caught me off guard. I did like her. I told her so. "I do like you."

"But you wouldn't like me if I fucked your husband."

"No. Probably not." I suspected he was kidding, at least I hoped she was kidding. Fuck, what if she wasn't kidding. "You would fuck my husband?"




Charlotte



"Not if I knew he was your husband." She looked off over my shoulder. I didn't look for what had her attention because I suspected what was coming next. "That's a lie." She said plainly. "I fucked my best friends husband. For like a year. I didn't give a shit. That's bad isn't it? That won't make your book, will it?"

"I don't know yet."

"I have to tell you about it now, don't I?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"You are a shitty interviewer."

"I know."

"I was still married to my first husband. I was young but that didn't matter. She was my best friend. We worked together. We drank together. We started all hanging out together. Knowing what I know now, I should have just gotten us all drunk or stoned or something and we could have just swapped, swinger style. That's not how it happened though."

"No."

"No. I don't know exactly what happened first. He was good looking, my first husband, well, he aged hard in only a couple years. He drank too much beer and ate too much fried food. Shit, I was fat then too. Her husband wasn't. Scott was sweet and tall and had a chin dimple. I knew I was going to fuck him before he did but he was the one to make the move."

"How?" I couldn't help but think of my own affair. Staring into his eyes desperate for him to make a move.

"We were all drinking. All four of us were in this fancy wine bar and he looked over at me as if no one else was there and said I should go to the bar and get shots. It was something in his eye. I looked back at him as if no one else was there and said okay. I told you I was heavier then, didn't I? I had this one pair of nice jeans, expensive ones, with the embossed pockets in back and big bell bottoms."

"I remember."

"They sat really low. I knew my G string was showing but I think that was the point."

"Yeah, yeah" I wanted her to get to the good part. It was odd for me. I was the reader, not the writer.

"I came back and set down four shots. I remember my friend, my husband, they were like, 'what the hell.' but it was like they weren't there. Andy, I'm going to call him Andy looked right back at me. 'We need beers, don't we?' Crap, okay, I went back to the bar and brought back four beers. I sat down and we toasted and did our shots and drank beer. Eventually my friend wanted to smoke. My husband went with her. I said I had to pee but would be out in a minute. Andy said he would watch our chairs. When they were gone he looked back at me. He wanted me. I told you I already knew I was going to fuck him. He asked why I hadn't gone to pee. I asked if he wanted me to leave. He said not especially but he liked to watch me walk away. I told him to follow me. He said what about the table, I said screw the table."

"In the bathroom?"

"No, the kitchen. The busboys got a show."

"Shit."

"I know. Fucking hot, right."

"They didn't know?"

"So, I always figured she knew. You know how women are. She never said anything. We were pretty careful after that. He was in hospitality so he had a friend at a local resort. We would score rooms that were out of service. They would be like, half decorated, or have the bathrooms torn apart. There were never sheets on the bed but we would meet at lunch and fuck and then run back to work. It was dirty and cheap and awful and I couldn't stop. I think that's why my shrink decided I was a sex addict." 

"It went on for a year?"

"Almost exactly. We started and ended right at Halloween."

"How did it end?" I knew. I could see the sad look on my husbands face when my affair ended.

"We got sloppy. My husband got suspicious. He followed me. He caught us in the parking lot."

"And you got divorced?"

"Yeah." 

"But not your friend?

"No. She... She had a kid. We never talked about it. I don't know if she ever knew, I think she just ignored it to stay married."

"But you aren't friends anymore?"

"No. She still wanted to hang out, just us, but I blew her off enough she stopped asking."

I was quiet. I wanted to know more. "It feels like it's missing an ending. Once you were divorced, you didn't see him anymore?"

"Not regularly. I mean, I could actually date anyone I wanted to. It was nice to have sheets on the bed." 

"I just told mine never to call me again." It just felt so similar. I felt like I was sobering up. 

"It's easy when they are married. You have all the control. They are so bold when they are getting you into bed and then after they blow their load they are just terrified of what you are going to do."

"Power. Sex is power." I am so wise when I am shitfaced.

"I want your power." She said to me. Her eyes, fuck, those eyes.

"I've got to pee." I think I ran. I skirted past the man at the bar thinking about him on top of me. I passed the bartender, I young woman with fake tits or a really good bra and I thought about her and what she would look like naked. I was sweating. I made it to the women's room. I groped for a stall and fell to my knees. I emptied my stomach. I think I was crying. I went to the sink and washed up. Most of my makeup was gone. I had left my purse. I did feel better. I still had to pee. I picked a different stall and closed the door.

I heard the door to the women's open and slam shut. I didn't hear a stall open or a sink run and I knew who it was. I finished and buttoned my jeans. I straightened my shirt, I want to say pushing my chest up was subconscious but it wasn't. The last think I thought before opening the stall was that I'm not into women. 

She was adjusting her lipstick. Directly I saw the long waved of hair draped over her pale freckled skin. In the mirror I saw her lips, her eyes, and her delicate finger touching the corner of her mouth. She turned as I stepped out.

"You okay?"

"Too many shots."

"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry. Really? That's not what I meant though."

"No?" Do it, I told myself, just fucking do it.

"No." She touched her fingers to my cheek. They were so soft and gentle. 

"What did you mean?" I asked quietly. I wanted to say something else but I didn't know just what. She was so close. So fucking close. 

"Just before you ran off. I said..."

All I had to do was lean forward. She was really only inches away. We were so similar in height it just worked. Before she had gotten her sentence out my lips were on hers. Her mouth was soft and slick with lipstick and she was everything I didn't like about kissing women and it was delicious. Her hand was on my side and I reached out for her, my hands finding her hips. Our lips moved slowly. My heart raced. My legs were weak, her tongue reached out for mine and I moved my hands up her body and my fingers found bare cool flesh beneath her loose top. Her breasts, I thought of her breasts and how they had teased me all evening each time she bent down and my fingers sought them out. My right hand, I felt her breast fill my right hand, her nipple was small but firm. I was nervous; it was the same nervousness that had gripped me that first time I knew I was going to give myself to a boy. It was the nervousness I felt the first time my husband shared me. My heart raced like I did when I first snuck away to bed a lover behind my husbands back. I gave myself to her. I took her. I took her with my mouth and my body. I lowered my lips to her pale neck, I took a handful of her hair in my free hand, I felt her hands on my back and I resented my shirt and bra.

"I thought you didn't like women." She said quietly in my ear.

"Shh!" I silenced her firmly. "Sit. Sit on the counter." I told her. 

I kissed her again, she opened her legs and I stood between them, the long skirt crept up her legs. She bent down to kiss me deeply and now I resented her shirt. My hands moved up her thighs. She had sweet soft thighs, I felt a hint of stubble and I was again faced with the womanliness of her. I identified with her. I heard her when she spoke. I shaved with her. I had been fucked by men like her. 

I lowered myself to my knees. The tile was hard and my knees felt the sharpness of it. Women could fuck through pain. I raised her skirt higher and she lifted her ass for me. I raised it higher and exposed her. I felt her fingers in my hair. Soft, thin gentle, fingers pulled my hair back gently. I tasted her. I wanted her. I wanted her to want me. I wanted to please her.

She sighed as my tongue touched her.

"You're so gentle." She said softly. I teased her lips with my tongue and teeth. She sighed when it was good and I repeated it. My tongue danced where I knew it should. "Slowly, lover. Slowly." I listened and adapted and she sighed more and I felt her fingers pull me into her. "There." She whispered, her legs rising from the marble countertop, she pulled me in and let I myself go. 

"Oh, there." She said. She helped, her hand and fingers joining my tongue and lips, she pulled her skirt away and she held herself open to me and I licked her. Delicate red hairs tickled my nose. She rocked to and fro on the counter and I imagined what it would be to fuck her. I found myself wishing I had a cock to that I could fill her. My tongue moved more quickly. I wanted to hear her come for me. I wanted to hear her call out my name and grasp at my hair in ecstasy. Her belly shook and I knew she was there. I pressed my tongue firmly to her, my hands on her thighs holding her open. I felt her legs tremble and she cried out, a deep guttural cry, I thought of a she-wolf, or a bear. I held my tongue just on the tip of her. When she went quiet I would move it, once or twice, short quick strokes of my tongue I knew would make it roll over her longer. She would groan again. I felt fingernails in my scalp.

"Stop. Oh god, stop, my lover." She said quietly. I stopped for her. I sat back on my legs, kneeling before her.

"You've done that before." She said, her legs still open in front of me. I looked at the soft pink folds I had just made love to wanting more of it. She pressed her hands in closed fists down between her legs. She shuddered a little. 

"A little."

"Come here." She said. She slid forward on the counter wrapping her legs around me as she kissed me again. She kissed me deeply, her tongue dancing over my lips, she suckled at my chin and it excited me. The idea she was cleaning me excited me and fuck my pussy was aching for her. 

"What's your name?" I whispered. I realized I was begging.

"What are you going to call me in the book?"

"I don't know yet. What do you want to be called?" She was massaging my breast and suckling at my neck. 

"I don't want to prejudice you." Lets go. I need a drink.

"Really?"

"I have an addictive personality. I think I am an alcoholic too."

I followed her out of the bathroom and took up my spot at our table. My purse was still there, I can't believe I didn't even think of it. I watched her from a distance. She flirted with the man at the bar. She came back with our drinks. No shots this time. I bummed another cigarette and drank half my beer at once. 

"You come up with a name yet?"

"No. Fuck. I think I'm drunk. I can't think straight."

"Look." She was suddenly serious. "Don't make excuses for what you just did. Maybe the booze made it easier but it was your choice, you wanted it, you took it. A slut doesn't make excuses."

"I'm not..."

"Sure you are." She smiled a little but it was not the welcoming sweet smile she had used to seduce me. "Own up to it. You're a slut."

"Can I ask you something?"

"That's why we're here remember, you really are a shitty interviewer." She was cold and hard after getting off. She was like a man.

"This is hard..." Just do it. Own up to it. "You said you live close?"

"I knew this was coming." She took another drag and blew out a long slow line of smoke. "So, don't take this wrong. I like you. I think we are going to hang out. You have to give me a good name though."

"But?"

"But you are a romantic?"

"Romantic?"

"You write about sluts but they don't cheat on their men? Your sluts don't sleep with married men. You have a romantic view of what sex is. Maybe it doesn't have to be love, but it does have to be justifiable. It has to be honest. Sex isn't like that. Sex is hot and dirty, it is sweet and tender, but it's sex. It's just sex. It's an orgasm and a shower."

"I guess."

"As much as I like you. As much as I want to repay you for that little session in the head, I don't want you getting some romantic falling in love sort of thing in your head for me."

"I don't think..."

"Good, because I am going to fuck the shit out of you." This time she smiled. "Just not right now."

"So you are leaving."

"Yeah, in a bit. I'm going to fuck the shit out of the guy at the bar for watching our stuff for us."

"Really?" Realizing I was hurt, bordering on heartbroken, I think I understood what she was saying.

"Call your husband, get him up here to pick you up. Maybe I will get to check him out before we leave."

"Charlotte." I said. 

"Is that my name?"

"Does it work?"

"You're the writer." She stood up and I stood up as well. I went to give her a hug, that girlfriend-good-to-see-you-again-hug we all do but instead was again kissed in a long slow lingering I-can't-wait-to-get-you-in-bed sort of kiss you get at the end of a good date. 

"I can't stop thinking about your breasts." I said. I have no idea why. She responded my taking my hand and again placing it up her shirt on her chest. She did that eyebrow raise thing and walked away. I watched her sit down next to he guy at the bar. 

I took another drink of beer and wished she had left me a cigarette. I thought about driving home but thought better of it. I did what she said.

"Hey." I tried not to sound as sad as I was to be making the call.

"Hey, Punkin'. He answered. Good meeting."

"Yeah, actually." He picked up my spirits being excited about my project. God, men could be okay sometimes, ya know. "But I sorta drank too much!"

"Really? That's some meeting. Where you at? I'll come get you."

I told him where I was. He knew the place. He got out more than I do. 

"Do I need to be jealous?" He asked joking. At least mostly joking.

"Of course. But before you get too worried I will warn you, I am going to fuck your dick off tonight."

"Damn. Well let me get rolling."

I paid my check. It was heftier than I expected. I couldn't believe I had done four shots. I guess I had gotten rid of most of them. I thought for a moment of letting her see my husband. I wanted her to see him. He was tall and good-looking; at least I thought he was. I thought of her unicorn comment and how much fun that would be. I thought about her comment about fucking my husband and stepped out in front of the bar to wait for him. I figured he would pull up and I could slip in and be gone.

Time drug on and I sat on the curb.

Time seemed to stop. He was coming, I was sure of it. I could call him but he wouldn't answer if he was driving.

It was dark and my phone rang.

We were both testy with each other. We were both there. It took a minute or so for us to realize there were two entrances and I had been standing in front of one while he had slipped in the other. I walked back in to find him sitting at the bar. Fuck it. I ordered another beer.

"Well this is fun and different for a Wednesday night." He said. He kissed me. I scanned the bar; my friend and her pick-up had left.

"You eat?"

"No." I answered, realizing I was starving.

"Tacos?

We ordered an assortment of different street tacos. We talked about my meeting. I gave him the high level review. I got some good ideas. He smiled and said he couldn't wait to read them. He liked reading my stories and I liked what he did to me after he was done reading.

"You know, its good you found me when you did. Apparently I have it going on tonight?"

I looked at him curiously. He was just in a T-shirt and shorts. I looked over the bar again. I didn't see anything to worry about. "Sure honey, you are the Channing Tatum of the over forty drunken suburban wife set."

"You laugh, but I was only here about ten minutes when a hot redhead gave me her number." Gloating he passed me the napkin. 

"She was hot?" I took the napkin. It had her number, I recognized it. She had gone old school and pressed her lips to it, I recognized the color. It also said Charlotte. 

"Red head. You know I like red heads. She was probably crazy though."

"You like crazy." I knew he did. Hell, I was crazy.

"You know I do. Give me back my napkin!" He teased.

"Okay, but I get to watch." I handed it back. I already had her number.



Charlotte Amalie



Men deprived of the presence of women for any length of time are capable of thinking of only one thing; the fragrant undetectable perfume of female pheromones. 

Thus it was, one day many years ago, as we pulled into Charlotte Amalie harbor, St. Thomas, Virgin Islands. Our ship had been on an extended patrol, and we had not seen anything feminine in over a month. Now, the fragrance laden breezes that washed over the blue-green water carried the sweet smell of tropical flowers. And women. They were there. Many of them. Standing on the shore watching our bow drift slowly, carefully toward the dock.

We sailors tried mightily to keep our minds on the business of tying the ship up. But the obscure haze of the air of women dominated our awareness. We managed at our clumsy last to get the mooring lines out and get the ship soothed to a serene rest. And I did not have "The duty". That meant that I could have forty-eight care-free hours ashore. That meant that I would, likely, get laid. That meant that I would also, no doubt, get a little drunk. 

Understand that in those days the white belt that held my white uniform pants up was only twenty six inches long. Understand that I had no fat on me, and the white uniform fit me as well as Frank Sinatra's and Gene Kelly's had fit them in some movie about sailors in Paris. 

I cocked my white hat over my left eye and swaggered ashore with the pride of one who knows that the ship's arrival has squished more than one female pudenda into lusty anticipation.

But where the hell were they? 

Most of my shipmates were heading toward Trader Dan's, the thatch-covered bar along the main wharf that was the center of Charlotte Amalie's commerce and social life. In an hour or so it would be too drunk in there to hear yourself think. I opted for the streets less traveled. I headed up the hill toward the shops where I could poke around among souvenir stores and little local restaurants. I would get a cup of the island's rich black coffee and sit for a bit while I worked out my itinerary. 

She found me there. 

Her name was Helen, and she was a late thirty-ish, maybe even forty-ish schoolteacher from Michigan. She had a soft look about her; like one unaccustomed to the nuances of a one-night-stand. She had asked if she might join me and I had, of course, invited her to sit down. She was intrigued, she told me, by how young I was and my uniform and those ribbons on it and what were they for because she wanted to tell her fourth grade class that she had met a real sailor and could I tell her something about the life I led. Like why?

"Look around." I answered. "I come here at least a couple of times a month most times. We're based at San Juan. I've learned Spanish and how to navigate and the service taught me morse code so that I speak it like a second language and, well, I guess it's just the adventure." 

"I can't imagine such a life." She said. "It took me three years just to save up for this trip." She put her hand on mine. It was a delicate little schoolteacher's hand. It had red lacquered nails and looked like it might be made out of the hollow bones of birds. "So you're familiar with Charlotte Amalie?" 

"Yes." I answered. 

"Maybe you could give me a tour. I've only just arrived myself."

The steel band from Trader Dan's was in full voice as we walked along the wharf. Vendors in boats held up huge fish and exotic fruits and vegetables and handbags and wicker hats likely made in Taiwan and on one a very pretty little island girl sold flowers. I bought a little bouquet and gave them to Helen. She looked at them with a kind of whistful look on her face for a moment, then her face brightened and she put her arm in mine and we strolled. From time to time one of my shipmates would pass me with a "You sorry bastard, you've already scored" look on his face. It was an intoxicating afternoon of tropical sun, salt air, wild flowers and calypso music. By the time the sun had settled itself down to the horizon, Helen's face was pressed against my shoulder. 

"How long can you stay off the boat?" She asked. 

"Ship. It's a ship." I said. I looked at my watch. "I have another forty-six hours." 

"I know that we'll never see each other again after this, but do you suppose, just for this little while, you could be, like, my boyfriend or something?" She asked. 

I stopped and put my hands on her shoulders. "And what does that entail?" I asked. 

She leaned up and kissed me. "Everything, maybe, if you don't mind an old broad like me." 

"You're not an old broad." I said. "Just older than me." 

"How old are you?" She asked between kisses. 

"Twenty-one." "And how long have you been here in this kind of world?" 

"Two years." 

"My hotel room is right up there. Would you... Like... Maybe... Would you like to come up to it?" 

"Yes." 

"And spend the night?" 

"Yes." I answered. 

"Maybe I should buy us something to have, like, to drink." She said. 

"Rum." I said. "But just a little. I don't want to get drunk and miss any of you." 

We picked up a pint of dark brown rum on our way to the hotel.

Upstairs she opened wooden jalousie doors that had a hundred weathered coats of pastel green paint on them and went into a room with a huge wooden bed in the middle of it and mosquito netting and a table with a water pitcher sitting in a big bowl. 

"It's just like something out of the last century." She said. "And the back porch overlooks the ocean." 

We walked through the room and out the opposite door and there was the sea and the sunset and the palm trees and the flowers and the sound of the steel band which can be heard a dozen miles at sea some days. She pointed down toward the beach. "A man sells some kind of barbecued meat down there." She said. "Are you hungry?"

I waited for her to change into her bathing suit, a daring two-piece that revealed a flat stomach and nice hips and a delicious looking bottom and two very round breasts beneath their bright day-glow blue. She threw on a terrycloth half-robe and we went down to investigate the meat. We sat on a large driftlog and ate and sipped the rum and I told her about the sea and we watched the final green flash of the sunset over the water and listened to "Yellow Bird" for the dozenth time as rendered on the bottoms of steel drums. Darkness swept in from the sea and fires popped up here and there on the beach. We could see a couple dash down to the water from one of them. 

"They're naked." Helen said. 

"They do that here." I said. "Mostly folks from the states. They get drunk and get naked and swim." 

"Are you drunk enough?" She asked. 

"I don't need to be." I said. "I'd do it anyway." She took another long drink from the rum bottle and grinned, then quickly stripped off her bathing suit. "Hurry." She said as I stripped off my uniform. When I, too, was naked she grabbed my hand and we dashed to the water. 

She delighted in the way the phosphorous lit up our pubic hair, and she giggled as she felt the cold water reach into her hot privates, and she pressed herself against me and mashed those wonderfully soft breasts against my chest. As we splashed about she grew more and more adventurous and soon she was tucking my cock in between her legs whenever we kissed and at last she said "Let's go back to the room." 

We went to the log where we had left our clothes and she said "Just carry them. Let's go naked." And we balled our clothes up and dashed naked up the steps and into the bedroom and she started a shower in the rust-stained tile shower stall and we soaped and poked and prodded and played and rinsed and dried and fell into the bed in a laughing fit of flesh. 

And she was "on the pill" and she was insatiable. 

We fucked until we came and lay back to rest, but soon she was up on all fours masturbating with her bottom toward me and her ass looking completely delicious and I knelt up and put my cock in her as she brought herself to another orgasm and then we lay down again for a little while.

And it was only after her second come that we could lie still and pet and cuddle and explore. "I've never done anything like this with anyone." She said. 

"You don't have a boyfriend back home?" I asked. 

"No. I was married for awhile, but it wasn't anything like this. He drank too much and sometimes hit me and I got tired of that." She snuggled tighter into my arm. "This is how I always imagined a tropical island to be."

Helen was one of those women that couldn't come unless she got herself off; the first one I had ever met. She didn't fake anything, she just told me to watch as she moved her fingertips delicately over the spots that would give her the best results. I tried to imitate her movement with my tongue, and almost got her there, but not quite. Finally she had me sit facing her and she crossed her legs over mine and guided my cock into her pussy and lay back against the head of the bed and masturbated, often feeling around where my cock was in her, and gently pinching her own nipples as she strove to reach her heights. This apparently didn't work to her satisfaction. She pulled me out and asked "Do you mind if I try something entirely nasty?" I didn't mind. She got up and brought a bottle of hand lotion from her purse, then got back in the same position and with her eyes sort of looking off in the distance she lubed my cock with the hand lotion, then her ass, then scooted her bottom forward and guided me into her anus. "My husband used to make me do this." She said. "and after awhile I got to like it." She held her breath and shoved her hips forward and I slid past the tight resistance of her sphincter. She yelped, but then lay back and I watched her fingers dance feverishly over her clitoris and along her labia. When she started to move her hips rhythmically to the music of "Jamaican Farewell" from the steel band I felt myself loading the breech for another come. The tightness of her sphincter muscle and the touch of her fingers and her sounds of impending orgasm got me off just in time, and we came together. She lay still, her leg quivering over mine for awhile and when my cock softened she let it fall out of her and went to the bathroom and returned with a warm damp cloth and wiped us both off. She looked shamefaced and embarrassed. "I'm sorry." She apologized. "I shouldn't have done that." 

"Why not?" 

"Because it's nasty. It's messy." 

"It's not." I said. "It was fantastic." 

"You really think so?" 

"Yes." 

"Are you staying the night with me?" 

"Yes." 

"Maybe we can do it again before you have to leave."

We fell asleep with her holding my cock. 

When I woke up the sun was high and she was sitting naked at the little round table with coffee and fruit and cheese for breakfast. 

"Where'd you get that?" I asked, after I had finished in the bathroom. "I got dressed and went and got it and came back and got naked again." She said. "I've never eaten breakfast naked before."

That day we toured Charlotte Amalie some more. She bought souvenirs for all of her friends and students and we ate everything tropical that was offered to us and we bought another bottle of bay rum and took it back to the room. This time there was no token bathing suit. We just got naked and went straight down to the beach for another after-dark phosphorescent lighted romp in the surf. We watched a couple by a fire fuck and it got us both turned on again and we went back up to the room. 

Helen knelt on the bed and had me stand and fuck her from behind and stick my finger in her ass while she masturbated and we came together. She seemed to like to expose herself to me. At least she liked to have me look at her most private places and she would lay for long periods while I petted her pink parts and spread her open and kissed and licked her there. On my part I wanted to remember the deprivation I had felt for the past month at sea, and carry this woman's smell and taste with me on the next voyage. I wanted to feel my cock in her pussy and feel the tight band of her anus gripping me and hear the whimpers and moans and mewling sounds she made as she reached her orgasmic zenith. 

She liked to suck my cock, but only when it was soft and freshly washed. She would kneel on the floor and suck it, looking up at me with her pretty eyes sparkling. She did not want me to come in her mouth. Apparently her husband had made her do that, and it gagged her and made her throw up. She just liked to suck it soft, and since I had had so many orgasms I could barely get it up again, she got her wish as often as she liked. By Sunday morning we were fucked out, yet still we lay and fondled and petted each other's body. I don't think either of us could have come again. It was only with the greatest reluctance that I made myself dress in my uniform and get ready to head back to the ship. She stayed naked for me as we sat at the table for those last few minutes. "I've had a wonderful time." She said. "If you'll give me your address I'll send you postcards sometimes." I gave her the address. 

"What are you going to do now?" I asked. 

"I have two weeks here." She said. "Would it make you feel bad if I found someone else to do this with?" 

"No." I said. "I won't be back for many a day?" I imitated the song "Jamaican Farewell". 

"When I go back I have to be a prim and proper school teacher again." she said sadly. "I have to be modest and demure and non-sexual. And every night when I masturbate I'm going to remember the feel of your twenty-one year old penis sticking in my parts. I'll never forget you and what you've done for me, no matter how the rest of this vacation turns out." 

Well, Helen, I never got those postcards. But I never forgot you either, nor the feel of my twenty-one year old penis sticking in your "parts". I remember your smells, and the flowers and the salt air and the beach and how your pubic hair lit up with phosphorous in the surf. I remember the way you sounded when you came and the way your legs trembled and the way your body felt during your orgasms. And to this day everytime I hear the song "Yellow Bird" or the song "Jamaican Farewell" or a steel band I am transported to Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands in the middle of the Caribbean where heaven was once an old fashioned room and a Michigan schoolteacher.



Charlotte and Anton



Anton was quiet at last; otherwise Charlotte would never have dared peep into his bedroom without knocking first. However, there was no polite reason for watching him sleep. In fact, reason didn't come into it at all, polite or not. Reason had deserted them days ago when his wife, Charlotte's big sister, fellated her secret lover at the wheel of his Aston Martin until they ploughed into oncoming traffic. Now anything could happen.

He still had a towel bunched on his midriff following a long, hot soak Charlotte had talked him into at dawn. Apart from this, her brother was naked, his massive frame barely contained by his bed; limbs dangling over the edges. Her stomach twisted. His wife was twice lost to him, yet Anton still left her side of the bed empty. 

She should close the door and go. Leave him be. She had texted her husband, Jeff, so they could swap shifts. Anton could be left alone for a few minutes until relief arrived.

But Charlotte didn't move. Despite his lumpen masculinity, her brother looked like a sleeping child. After a night of bitten, wrenched sobbing, his peace was mesmerising. It enveloped her along with the fragrance of bath salts still warming off his skin. Her own pain seemed muffled while she stood here, watching his chest rise and fall in filtered stripes of morning light, listening to the rolling waves of his breath. 

Charlotte hoped her husband had slept, too. God knows he needed to. Jeff did not seem to understand that Anton was the only person who could properly share her loss. Instead, he stewed with anguish over his wife and his best friend, bubbling up with bitter accusations: "I guessed you'd want the night shift... I've seen how you are together... You can't keep your eyes off each other, let alone your hands... There's nothing to keep you apart now." All nonsense. Charlotte had always been utterly loyal to her husband. She was a Leo for goodness sake. Anton too. 

Yet here she was, a step closer to her brother's bed, closing the door behind her. 

As she'd prepared for her visit the evening before, Jeff had spat, "Don't forget your condoms." So she had left quickly, in a swallowed temper, and had only brought her toothbrush with her. Not even a change of underwear. Then this morning, after her shower, she'd decided she'd rather go commando than wear the same pair two days running. So it was really Jeff's own fault that Charlotte was naked beneath her summer dress, now, and that same air that slid over Anton's powerful arms and thick fingers also ran, unobstructed, over her secret skin.

Shut into the room, closer to the bed, the hypnotic calm of him doubled. His presence tugged at her middle, urging her closer still. After 48 hours without sleep, and the sleeping pill she had given him, Anton would be oblivious to her. And just as well, because her body had carried Charlotte right to the side of his bed.

Her cheeks prickled and she tapped a bare foot. She should not be here, what did she think she was doing, gawping at her sister's husband, like this? Then a dark and shameful thought occurred. Was he still technically her brother? She shook the hideous question from her head. Lack of sleep had weakened her resolve. Enough.

Anton's body was captivating, though. Not small and lean like her husband's, but broad and strong and generously proportioned. A body that once moved house for them, single handed, when Jeff had pulled a muscle in the gym. A body that was always ready with a hug, or to toss her into the air. 

And he was larger than life all over, according to Charlotte's sister. 

An illicit flood of warmth beneath her skirt had her pressing her palms to her legs. She had forgotten what her arousal felt like, how it had the power to drown out everything else. Even the gut-wrenching flashback of her sister's wicked smile – describing her husband with a rigid forearm – seemed dampened by the flush of imagining what lay hidden under that towel. Charlotte bit her lip and crossed her arms over her heart as it thumped at her rib-cage, as if to say, "Go on then!" 

Before she knew better, she had slipped the towel off him.

Charlotte swallowed, hand to her mouth to stifle a leaked gasp. Her sister was right, even recumbent, Anton was huge; a little longer than Jeff but much, much thicker. Her hands trembled, a liquid sensation made her squirm and cross her feet. 

Then Anton, who had been facing away, groaned and twisted his head on the pillow toward her. Charlotte flinched, ready to spring to the door, but his eyes were still shut fast. He snored softly. She melted, her gaze dancing over his olive skin between the sweet peace of his face and the compelling meat lolled across his hips.

In this position the sun threw her shadow over him, her legs cast across the bed and hips at his head. She fancied her blue ghost projected darkly into his dreams. What would she do in there? In Anton's' fantasy? His manhood shifted in its own slumber, unfurling a little and she wanted to giggle. 

Her sister generally complained about Anton and his artisanal poverty, but loved how much her husband adored her, especially the neat folds of her sex. When she modelled nude for him, it drove him wild. Drove them both wild; she relished being so desired that he couldn't even work, that he had to stop and ravish her. 

Secretly, the thought of this had kept Charlotte awake quite a few times. The elegant rudeness of it. But then, her sister was supermodel-long and languid, compared to Charlotte's bouncy sex-kitten curves. Maybe that was why, when she tried posing for Jeff – who wasn't even an artist, anyway, he was an estate agent – there was something tawdry about the act. Seedy even, no matter how much effort she made on neat waxing and expensive underwear. Jeff would leer sweatily, and bark instructions: "Squat... Open your pussy... Bend over... Put two fingers in." Then he would insist on posing, too, and then climax well before she did.

On the other side of Anton's bed, opposite her, mirrored wardrobes reflected Charlotte, clothed, standing over Anton's nudity. From that angle it looked like he was modelling for her, or even better, watching her. Drunk on the cocktail of her quickened pulse and sleeplessness, the only place she really wanted to be right now was in his eyes. All of her. 

Charlotte pulled up the hem of her skirt, holding it over her chest to display her clipped bush and the hint of rude lips. The pose required little commitment to being naughty, and could be undone in a blink, but looked deliciously dirty. She bit her lip, turned her hips this way and that. The creature between Anton's legs stirred again, weakly lifting its head before flopping back, exhausted. Anton might be comatose, but his gorgeous manhood seemed keen. She pulled her dress off over her head.

Her complete exposure, within arm's reach of the slumbering giant, made her tremble as she ran her fingertips over the undersides of her breasts and teased her nipples, stiffening them. She swung her hips. A snake charmer, charmed by the snake, mesmerised by it. 

Gripping her bottom, she pushed her hips toward Anton, shocked at how – in the reflection – the lips of her sex seemed puffier than they'd ever been. Florid even. For so long she had felt withered down there, and dry. She reached down and opened herself up, blossoming for him. 

For him. 

The admission opened a flood gate inside her. Charlotte spread her sex for Anton. She dripped for Anton. There was no polite excuse for this now. She was lost in her horn, and she loved it.

She turned and presented her bottom, wriggled it, made it wobble and dance. She had a fine bum, round, pert and firm, much sexier than her sister's. And Jeff was right; Anton could never keep his eyes – and sometimes his hands – off it. He even bit her rear once in a silly game in the park, pulling up her skirt and sinking his teeth in. His overexcitement had put him in his wife's doghouse for quite some time, while Charlotte, eyes closed, would loop the moment on those difficult nights when she needed to cum for her husband. She wanted that playful bite again, now. And more. His mouth, pressed to her sensitive cheeks, kissing, dipping underneath.

Charlotte opened her legs and bent over. The explicit view over her shoulder made her clitoris throb, while her pink slot drooled obscenely. The wide gap between her thigh tops shone indecently on Anton's lips, and again, as if in reaction, his member lifted its sleepy head toward her, so alive she covered herself with her hands as if it might squirrel up into her. Then the thought of that, the fat filling of her empty hole, blended with the pressure of her fingers on her bits. She squeezed her mound and relished the exquisite pulse of anticipation it sent through her. She slid a finger along her slick groove and slipped it around her bud. Her legs trembled. 

She licked the saltiness from her fingertip. There was really only one way to go, now. 

As slowly and gently as she could, Charlotte turned and knelt on the mattress beside Anton's head. She opened her knees toward him, forming a sacred space of her inner thighs and his strong, calm features. His presence radiated over her nakedness, warm as the breath that gently caressed her skin.

Jeff believed that little sisters always craved what their big sisters had. That this was a hardwired, animal trait. Charlotte doubted this was true, but taking her sister's position, now, on this side of the bed, made her feel closer and there was much comfort in that. In fact, beyond sharing her sister's space, now it seemed Charlotte shared her debauchery, too. She rubbed her swollen folds in a small circle, barely inches from Anton's eyes, from his mouth.

"So wrong," her sense muttered, dressed up in Jeff's told-you-so wiry little body. But now Anton was radiating hot as the sun and she was half liquid, her fingers slithering beneath her outer lips on slippery arousal, dipping inside for more. 

Charlotte's plan was to release quickly, then dress and go. No-one would ever know. The event would be recorded in Anton's dim dream, only. Maybe it would linger when he woke up, maybe he would wake up ragingly erect and inexplicably picturing her naked and wet... Charlotte sighed. What a thought, her most intimate secret lodged in Anton's subconscious. 

But her climax was stubborn, even though her fingers worked quick and hard, with rude, slurping noises, curling a finger inside and rubbing and patting her clitoris. Even when her wetness chilled under his sudden long sigh, she gasped and shivered but still could not cum. 

However, being so het-up emboldened her, so when his cock stirred again, and lifted its head higher toward her, she could not resist. She curled over his hips and pushed her lips to the sensitive underside of his tip. Jeff liked to be kissed there – not that she cared to do that anymore – so maybe it would work for Anton, too. It didn't matter anyway, because today was for her. She had no choice; the kiss ached to be born there. The press of his manhood on her lips felt both familiar and alien, being the size of Jeff's, but still soft. Her fingers quickened between her thighs. Dear God, what would this thing be like, hard?

She had to know. She plucked another kiss to it, lingering and firm, and this time was rewarded by a clenching pulse against her lips that made her groan far too loudly. But she was on a mission, and confident that Anton's chemical spell could not be broken easily. This was between Charlotte and It. The Beast. The wakeful part of him would succumb to her will.

She lay out on her side, pressed feet and butterflied knees still holding her gorily open to Anton's face – and the sexy stroke of his breath – but positioning her head closer to his delightful cock. Now she could indulge herself properly, brushing her cheek along his warm, blunt brute. She held softly parted lips to it in drawn out kisses, letting her breath roll over his silky skin.

A judder ran through her body, and she groaned again at a familiar warm tingle balling between her thighs. No! Too soon! She hadn't even got him hard yet.

Having Anton between her legs was too exciting, even asleep. She rolled onto her front, and trapped her hands beneath her pulsing sex. Long, quiet puffs restrained the inner writhing of her orgasm, while she dipped a soft, wet tongue to his member. 

She licked him again, checked his face for signs of waking, and then ran her tongue up and down him. Her reflection, as she repeatedly lapped from his plump balls all the way up, looked curiously like a cat washing a kitten. But then again, deliciously, obscenely, not. 

Her hungry hips rocked at the fingers wedged beneath her and another warning tremor made her curse her hopeless attempts at stiffening him. She might never get another chance to see him hard. In desperation, she took him into her mouth. 

Charlotte's sister was fine featured, with petite, rosebud, lips and she used to complain about how uncomfortable it was sucking Anton. She avoided it as much as possible; a bitter fact that had Anton literally punching walls, now. At the time, Charlotte had joked that there were worse problems than dealing with a big cock, like not dealing with one, but they both knew how silly men became if they weren't seen to every now and then. Jeff certainly turned dark and nasty, and Anton was no exception, often refusing to lick Charlotte's sister if he didn't get what he needed, or worse, withholding his – otherwise wholly satisfying – erection from where she wanted it most. Unlike her sister, however, Charlotte's mouth and lips were so over-sized they called her 'Danger-pout' when they were kids. In fact, if Anton ever seemed short-tempered, her sister would roll her eyes and gasp, "I need your Danger-pout, Charlotte."

As a result, Charlotte had been made to consider this before, usually on her own in the shower, or when sucking off Jeff, but she was still unprepared for the reality of Anton's tautening bulb inside her. She hummed over it, enjoying the deep plugging sensation that made her hole clamour as he steadily pulsed hard in her mouth, forcing against her lips and tongue. Her legs involuntarily splayed and tipped, arching hips up at two plundering fingers, slavering so much at both ends that fingers and hole and cock and mouth blurred into one blissfully liquid, sucked plunge.

She gasped off to see the results of her handiwork. At last. He was enormous and rigid as a tree trunk, veined and bucking. There was no doubt what Anton's dream would be about now, and where it would end. For her at least. She sucked him back into her, swallowed him deep and let her fingers do their worst. Her eyelids drooped and waves of pleasure washed from Charlotte's mouth to her sex and back again, gathering and swelling. 

The mirror reflected an explicit scene, indeed: Charlotte nodding her head greedily on Anton's shaft, and fingers slopping and digging at her sex. She had no idea if Anton would be dreaming of her or her sister or someone else and didn't much care, just that – the horror of their waking reality removed – she was desirable enough to stimulate him to such bursting hardness. Even with his eyes closed.

Or so she thought. 

Before Charlotte gave herself over to her orgasm, she checked one last time that Anton was still out cold. And found dark eyes smouldering at their reflection. It was only then she noticed the glass of water and sleeping pill left untouched on the bedside table. Bastard! How long had he been awake? She growled loudly but her annoyance was muffled by sucking and no doubt undermined by her display of feverish fingering below.

Then just as it occurred that he had done little wrong, compared to her, Anton grabbed her hips without a word. He lifted her effortlessly over him and shoved his mouth between her legs. 

The tender invasion of his tongue made her cry out, along with the naked press of skin along their inverted fronts, but when her whole sex was sucked into his hot mouth she launched at his hard-on with urgent vigour. She was one long pant from cumming and was not doing so alone. Hands freed, she squeezed his balls and rubbed him into her mouth, slurping her tongue round him and devouring his thick meat. She would suck him dry. She would draw out the poison of his sorrow and take it from him. Every drop.

Charlotte's sister loathed cum, but Charlotte had been forced over the years to acquire the taste, for Jeff's sake. She had learned that an enthusiastic swallow could keep him off her back – and front – for months. Once, after Charlotte had seen to her husband with particular thoroughness, Jeff had witlessly gloated about it with Anton, both of them staring at her as he described her filthy eagerness. Charlotte wanted to crawl into a hole, especially when Anton burst suddenly, "Lucky fucker!" 

Now he burst a groan into her sex and she hummed on him, a resonance building between them, days of pain drowned by the swelling tsunami of their rush. Charlotte's orgasm was so close it almost hurt to hold it back, a task made impossible by Anton's tongue flickering wetly over her swollen bud, and stretching her hole with a finger as wide as her husband's dick. She whimpered and he growled, arching her up off the bed on the thrust of his hips. 

He might be bucking her up and down on him, but she was in control, his unfettered power gripped hard in her hands and mouth. Her rubbing blurred, urging him on while winding her mound on his face. Then suddenly his tongue quivered rigid at her clit, and she shuddered to a grinding halt on his cock and the darkness that had filled her to the brim over these long cold times flared brighter than any day.

They roared together, into each other. Suckling, sealed and muted. 

They became one thing, both halves of a heartbeat, jetting pleasure like blood between them from sex to mouth to sex. Charlotte held still, gulping at the frantic, thick heat of his climax, while exploding her orgasm into his mouth. Scalding tears spilled down her cheeks, tears of release and loss and love.

But the pulse of orgasm weakened far too quickly. Their bliss slipped away and Charlotte could not let it go. With her eyes screwed shut and sobbing, she drew hard on Anton's softening member, licking it, kissing it, anything to keep the brightness alive, to rekindle it. Anton too, shook uncontrollably between her legs, hugging her hips to his face and burying his lips in her hyper-sensitive flesh. She pushed back on him, squirming to his tongue even though it hurt. Because anything was better than facing the howling void where her sister used to be.

Then the door opened. Jeff poked his head into the room, smiling, and they all froze. 

They said nothing. His smile trembled and withered. Cum and tears dripped from Charlotte's lips, off her Danger-pout, and splashed onto Anton's stomach. Jeff lowered his gaze and slid away, clicking the door shut behind him. Anton and Charlotte returned to each other's need. They never saw him again.



Charlotte and Deanna



This story is a continuation Lottie's story from the series Choices. You can read that series if you choose too, but it isn't necessary. This story can be read on its own.

This story is written for pure enjoyment. So read, relax, and endulge.



"Woooooo Hooooooo!" a cheer went up across the bar as the crowd was riveted teams on the screen. The "Lady Badgers" were one kick away from securing another victory over their rivals. Deanna Lanetti wasn't watching the game. Her thoughts were elsewhere. Her eyes were glued to one person who was sitting in a booth across the room.

Charlotte Chance was completely unaware the she garnered attention from the gorgeous brunette at the bar. She was engrossed in conversation with her on-again off-again girlfriend, Terri. She and Terri had ended their relationship for the last time and Terri was moving to Vancouver to be with the man she loved. Tonight, was a farewell celebration for the two of them.

Dean was familiar with the history between these two women, and could understand to a degree. Did she like it? No, but that was life. After finding Charlotte alone and despondent one night over Terri, the two of them had formed a friendship of sorts. Dean smiled as she recalled the night from not so long ago.

 Lottie was sitting in a park swing when she walked up and asked her to leave. She figured it was another vagrant or just a kid hanging out, but it wasn't.

"Miss, the park closes at nine I need you to vacate." she addressed her firmly.

"Fine, Dean. I'm moving." Lottie declared angrily desperately hiding her tears. Wanting to keep her from crying, she tried to just tease her a bit. But, it didn't work and she heard the soft sobs and tears Charlotte shed over someone else. 

She wasn't about to let her wander off alone anymore so she goaded her into joining her for the evening, Unfortunately, she was still dressed from work and needed to change.

Charlotte was a neat person and she was at first apprehensive about inviting her into her home to wait, but she did anyway. She didn't seem repulsed by her so far so she proceeded to take her to her family's restaurant for dinner.

Everyone in her family knew of her lifestyle and supported her fully. Whenever she visited, she would rarely bring home a companion. And since laying eyes on Charlotte years before she hadn't brought anyone home.

When she arrived at the restaurant, Charlotte, who was till dressed in shrubs from her job, felt out of sorts. She quickly assured her that she looked lovely and went inside. Of course her family, who had heard Charlotte's name more times than they cared to realized who this girl was and pounced.

Nana even came out and met her. She approved. And quickly began to include Charlotte in family activities. At first she'd often refuse, but she'd never been up against the Lanetti women and soon fell into the fold.

However, much to Dean's dismay, Charlotte had her firmly locked in the friend mode. She had to get her to see her as more. But first, she had to wait. Terri had to be gone first. She refused to play second fiddle to anyone. Once she had Charlotte alone, she'd make sure she knew she was care for completely.

What grated on her nerves was how callously Terri used Lottie and didn't even seem to realize it. Lottie was the perfect companion. She was a true vision of loveliness and had a heart of gold. She took care of Terri in every way possible. She defended her against her ex-husband. She stood with her after the divorce was final. She even encouraged Terri, to go out and live.

She helped anyone who came to her with a need. Her job as a nurse demanded it, but it was how she was by nature. Terri was nice as well, just not right for Lottie. Soon, Lottie and Terri were both cheering for their favorite team, and Dean decided to cut her losses.

Tonight, she'd go back to her small house and just think about the one woman she wished she could be with. Then Lottie looked across the smoky room. Her eyes landed on Dean. Instant annoyance, she felt. Why is Dean here all alone? I'm going to talk to her and make sure she's alright. she decided.

Their eyes locked briefly and Dean could read her thoughts from where she stood. Oh, well. I might as well get some fun out of the evening.

Dean sauntered over to the booth occupied by the two women. "Hello, girls. Mind if I join you?" She asked, her eyes trained on Terri.

Dean wasn't interested in Terri, but she spoke to her anyway. "So, I hear you're moving to Vancouver, soon?" she asked. Lottie didn't like it. Dean flirting with Terri bothered her. She knew she was attracted to her, but they were just friends, right?

Terri smiled at the thought joining Tom. "Yes, tomorrow, as a matter of fact."

Then Dean focused on Lottie, "Poor Charlotte, what are you going to do without your friend?"

Lottie's eyes flashed angrily, "I'll be fine Dean. And I've asked you not to call me Charlotte. The name's Lottie." 

Dean smiled. She loved riling her. Her brown eyes darkened. Her sun-kissed complexion glowed beneath her auburn locks. The girl was beautiful and she was hers.

Dean sat grinning at Lottie. Then she leaned next to her ear and whispered, softly. "But baby, that's your name. Your name is Charlotte and I will call you Charlotte whenever I want. You will learn to love your name, simply because I like it." She gently kissed her cheek then she moved away.

Lottie's heart pounded. Heat flowed through her veins. Her nipple hardened, and she was wet. No woman had ever turned her own from a whisper. But Dean had done just that. She was speechless and the smirk on Dean's face told her that Dean knew how she affected her.

Terri sat and watched the exchange between the two women. She knew they'd form a friendship because Dean's family treated Lottie like one of their own. But she never really noticed how Dean treated Lottie until now. 

Lottie never used her real name, but Dean used it repeatedly and Lottie didn't object too much. Terri swore she saw a little smile on Lottie's lips when Dean said her name. "Um, do I need to leave and give the two of you some privacy." Terri asked smiling.

Dean chuckled, "That won't be necessary, Terri. I'm headed home. You two girls, enjoy your night." Then she left. Lottie watched her as she walked away.

"You and Dean? Wow, I never thought." Terri teased her best friend.

Lottie blushed. "She's really nice. Not like she acts when she's here."

"Well, she'd better treat you right, or Tom and I will come back and-" Lottie laughed.

"What? Come on, I can take care of myself." Lottie declared.

Soon the night ended ant the ladies went home. Terri dropped Lottie off at her new apartment and she returned to the flat they used to share. Terri took a moment to walk around her old home, realizing that soon she'd be gone for good.

Smiling, she thought about her best friend Lottie. She hated leaving her, but maybe when she did Lottie could find the happiness she deserved. She was sure a certain dark-haired woman would strive to make her friend happy.

Lottie's phone started to ring just as she climbed out Terri's car. She began to search frantically for her phone as she headed into her small efficiency apartment. Fumbling for her door keys, she dropped them to the floor as she stubbed her toe on a ledge. Getting down and searching, at last she found them, but by that time, the phone had stopped ringing . She immediately checked her caller ID as soon as she entered her home. Who had phoned her?, she wondered. The Caller ID read restricted. 

So shrugging off her thoughts, her phone rang again. It was the same restricted number. Lottie answered.

"Hello." She greeted her caller.

"Hey Lottie, now that Terri's out of the picture," the slurred male voice suggested, "How about going out with me for a while? I'll let you strap up."

"No thanks, Dave." Lottie replied. "Thanks for asking, though." Thinking  How did he get my number?

Meanwhile, as Lottie was settling in for the night, her phone rang again. She started not to answer but checked just in case. The number was the one she wanted to see. Smiling she picked up.

"Hello." She answered.

"Hello." Dean's sexy voice oozed through the phone. "Did you have a good time with Terri?"

"Yes, lovely Dean. I saw you were alone. Are you alright?" she asked, her heart pounding inside her chest.

"No, I'm fine. I just wanted to unwind after a hard day. Besides, Terri's leaving tomorrow and I wanted to make sure you are OK." Dean explained.

Lottie smiled. This girl was full of surprises, "Deanna, I'm fine. Don't worry, OK." 

Then Lottie added, "You've been a great friend, Dean. I really appreciate it. Did you need anything else?" she asked.

"Only to say good night and wish you sweet dreams." Dean whispered.

Lottie sighed, and it was the sexiest sound Dean had heard in a longtime. "Good night, Deanna." She whispered.

As she moved to hang up Dean replied, "Sweet dreams, Charlotte." 

Lottie sighed and soon fell asleep dreaming of a beautiful dark haired knight riding to her rescue.

Deanna lay in her bed wondering if she could ever get Charlotte to take her seriously. She seemed to enjoy her company and loved being around her family. But whenever she hinted at taking their relationship farther, she shot her down.

She thought of nothing else since they met up that night in the park. Dean wondered would she ever see her as something more.

Lottie hung up the phone a little disappointed because a small part of her wished Dean was here with her.

Placing the phone on charge, Lottie prepared for bed. Lottie thought about Terri. She'd miss her friend, but was happy that she would finally be with the man she wanted. Then her thoughts drifted to a tall, dark haired gorgeous woman she spent time with earlier, Dean.

Lottie decided to soak in a hot bath and then retire for the evening, when her phone rang once more. She moved to answer.

"Hello," Lottie answered.

"Um, Charlotte, I just wanted to tell you that you looked lovely tonight." Dean stated.

Smiling and slightly buzz, Lottie answered, "That's so sweet of you Dean. Thanks. You looked good also." Recalling the dark navy uniform Deanna was wearing that was covered in her cologne and clung to her like a second skin. Shaking her head, Lottie stopped imagining what Dean would look like naked.

"What are you doing tomorrow night? I was thinking we could go out." Dean suggested.

"That'll be nice. Wait, I can't. I made plans with your sister and cousin. We're going to see the new Scarlett Johansson movie. You can come with us if you would like. The more the merrier." Lottie suggested.

Dean declined, "No, Deloris and Jenna would get on my nerves. You guys go on, have fun. I'll go now. I know you need-" Lottie stopped her.

"Hey we can get together at the bar Thursday night. All the girls will be there." Lottie suggested praying she wouldn't say no.

Dean was silent. She never wants to spend time with me. She never refuses my relatives, but me she refuses.

"Charlotte, what's wrong with me? I mean, I thought we were friends, of sort." Dean queried.

Lottie laughed a bit perplexed, "Dean, of course, I like you. You've been a great friend."

"Right, well good night, Charlotte. I just thought. Never mind..." Dean said before hanging up abruptly.

Lottie hung up her phone and lay down with thoughts of Dean plaguing her mind.  She sounded hurt. Why would she sound that way?. Soon she was asleep. A few hours later, Lottie accompanied her best friend Terri to the airport to see her off. Then she drove in to her job at the local hospital. 

Saturday came and Lottie caught a bus to Deloris's house for their outing.

They picked up Jenna and Lottie happened to mentioned that she invited Dean, but she declined.

Deloris and Jenna shared a look. Lottie, clearly confused, asked what was going on.

"Girl, I swear you are clueless." Deloris declared. "Dean likes you." She explained.

Lottie replied. "Well I like her too. That's why I wanted her to join us tonight. But I bet she has a hot date lined up." She concluded angrily.

Jenna couldn't help it. "Even if she does, why are you upset by it. She's just a friend right?" she asked.

Taken aback Lottie answered, "Of course she's my friend. I just don't think she should ....Well it's not my business." Lottie concluded.

She didn't like the thought of Dean dating, spending time with other women. But she was just a friend right. She had no say in what she did.

Thursday night, Lottie arrived at Opal's early hoping to talk to Dean before the place became crowded.

She sat at the bar and tried to hide the fact that she was anxiously waiting for the gorgeous brunette to arrive. Dean walked in, and Lottie forgot to breathe. 

Dean saw her sitting at the bar and headed over to speak. The two friends greeted each other as the crowd began to swell.

Lottie had to force herself to stay calm as she wanted to rip out the hair of several women who kept touching Dean. One blonde, was extremely friendly, and Dean didn't seem to mind at all.

Not willing to sit and watch Deanna flirt anymore, Lottie paid her tab and stood to leave. Dean intercepted her before she walked out.

"Hey, Charlotte, it's early. Why are you leaving? Stay." Dean suggested.

Lottie glared at her, "Really Deanna. Some of us have to work. We are all not little girls who want to play." She added glaring at the blonde Dean just danced with.

Dean followed her line of vision and knew instantly that she was jealous, so she whispered, "Baby, as far as I'm concerned, you have nothing to worry about. When you're ready for me, I'm here." Then she pecked her on the cheek. She escorted her to her cab and said "Call me when you get home." Then she closed the door and went back into the bar.

Lottie refused to call Deanna. But around midnight, her phone rang. She wanted to feign anger, but her need to hear Dean's voice won. She picked up and the two women said their good nights.

For several months, Dean and Lottie developed their friendship. They flirted shamelessly with each other, but never went beyond talk for fear of ruining their friendship.

Everything came to a head one spring day. Lottie was checking on her patients when a call came in. New patients were coming in. There had been a shooting and an officer was hit. The ETA , expected time of arrival, of the ambulance was under five minutes.

Lottie didn't work emergency normally, but today she was filling in. When the ambulance pulled up, she rushed out to help the paramedics unload the patient.

"Lottie, Lottie, please it's my partner. He took... Help him" Dean pleaded when she recognized her friend.

Lottie looked up and saw Dean covered in blood. Her heart stopped. Dean was hurt. Someone hurt her, "Nurse prep him!" she heard the supervising physician call. But she couldn't. right then she had to make sure Dean was alright.

"Deanna, are you hurt?" She was in shock but talking, so Lottie had her sit and said. "Listen, sit here, and I'll find someone. Let me care for your partner." Lottie said as she led her to an empty gurney to sit on. Dean wanted to resist and demand to stay with her partner, but she realized the doctors and nurses had to do their jobs.

"Anna, Please. Help this officer." Lottie called out when she saw Anna. The young nurse sprang into action. Anna came and took Dean to exam room one to be checked out and make sure she wasn't hurt, while Lottie worked at stabilizing her partner.

Lottie could not get the sight of Dean covered in blood out of her mind. "Nurse Chance, do you need a minute? We need to stabilize this man and get him to surgery. Wake up!" the physician yelled, snapping Lottie back into reality.

Anna saw Lottie later and told her Deanna was in shock and they put her in a room for a while. She had a few shallow wounds, but nothing as severe as her partner.

An hour later, Lottie went to Dean's room to make sure she was alright. Her heart was pounding. She was glad she wasn't badly injured, but she was injured. If Joe had not jumped in front of her, she would have been hit, not him. She could have lost her. Lottie stopped at her door, and took a deep breath and calm down. She pushed open the door, smiling, and greeted her friend.

"Hey Dean, How are you feeling? Did you call your family? You know they'll be worried sick when they hear about this." Lottie asked.

"No, Nana doesn't need to be told. Besides, they all are busy. I'll call later when I go home." She assured her friend.

"Dean, you have injuries. Someone needs to be with you. I'm calling Deloris." Lottie explained.'

"Charlotte, don't". Dean asked. "Can you go with me? Just for the night. I, I don't want to worry them. Nana doesn't need the stress and Deloris is taking care of her. Please don't call."

Lottie smiled, "Nana is going to be furious if she learns of this and you didn't tell her. But you're right, she has enough on her plate. OK, Dean, I'll stay with you tonight. But if anything goes wrong, I'm calling Deloris."

"Thanks, Charlotte." Dean quickly spoke. "I appreciate it. The doctor should be letting me out soon. I wonder how Joe is. He was hit pretty badly." Dean asked.

"He's stable. His wife is here with him." Lottie explained.

Then she inhaled, "Dean, let me call Deloris at least. Please." She pleaded.

"No, no Charlotte. I don't want them to worry. Please. I'll tell them. I promise." Dean assured her.

"OK, but as soon as you are home. You need to call your sister." Lottie asserted.

Dean nodded in agreement, and then soon fell asleep. About two hours later, the doctors were ready to discharge Dean into Lottie's care. 

Charlotte signed Dean from the hospital and took a cab to her small home. Once she helped Dean inside her house, two officers from the precinct brought her car. Lottie asked Officer Kim to sit with Dean for a moment and Officer Brandon drove her to get her things.

Officer Kim stayed with Dean and they talked. "Officer Lanetti, the feat you and your partner did today was amazing. We got all of them. They fired on officers, so they'll be going away for a long time." She explained.

Dean simply sat and nodded. She didn't hang out with people from her job, because many of them had issue with her lifestyle. But she loved her fellow officers, and would gladly take a bullet for any one of them. However today she just wanted to be alone for a moment and sisn't feel like entertaining guest. She hoped Charlotte came back soon because she only wanted her there.

Meanwhile Officer Brandon was driving Lottie to retrieve her clothes for the night. She invited him in her small apartment while she gathered her things. He had heard rumors about Deanna and suspected that this cute little nurse was more than a friend. He liked Officer Lanetti. When he first joined the force and people found out about his lifestyle, she was the first person to defend him. He went to thank her and she told him it wasn't necessary.

He spoke to her often and wondered if she had someone at home. He was sure she didn't until today. The way Officer Lanetti looked at this woman told him all he needed to know. She was special to her.

He knew he might be out of line, but he had to say something. "Ms. Chance, Officer Lanetti is lucky to have you for a friend. She's real special. She deserves to be happy." He said as his face flushed.

Lottie smiled, "Does Dean know she has a champion in you?" She asked, impressed that this young officer at least tried to protect her.

Smiling Lottie concluded, "Dean is my friend. I'll always look out for her. Now have a seat while I grab my things." 

Soon Lottie and Officer Brandon were headed back to Dean's house. The two shared a friendly camaraderie during their ride. As he pulled up, Officer Brandon looked at Lottie and said, "I can see why she's so into you."




Charlotte and Deanna



Then he cut the car off and they walked inside to Dean and Officer Kim chatting. When Lottie walked in, Dean's entire demeanor changed as she smiled. Officer Kim and Brandon shared a look and then bid farewell to the two ladies.

"OK, let's get you comfortable. I want you to call Deloris." Lottie stated.

Dean began to protest immediately, "I'll call later. She's with Nana and it's almost time for dinner..."

Her protest froze on her lips as she looked at Lottie's annoyed face. "You promised, Deanna. You promised me you'd call them." She reminded her friend.

"OK, give me the darn phone then." Dean answered in a huff as she called her family.

Lottie listened as the horrified gasped came through the phone line as Dean told her family about the shooting. She assured them she was fine and that Charlotte was with her. Then she looked at Charlotte sheepishly and said, "It's for you. Nana is pissed."

"Charlotte, why you not call us as soon as Deanna arrived at your hospital? I am so disappointed. Are we so not important to you that you don't call when one of ours is hurt?" Nana demanded to know.

"Nana, I'm sorry. I wanted to call but Deanna didn't want to worry you. So she asked me to let her call. She's going to be fine-" Nana cut her off.

"My Deanna is special, No. She likes you. I mean in a special way. She says you are staying with her tonight, right?" Nana continued.

"Yes, Nana. I am, but she'll be fine." Lottie insisted.

Nana continued, "You two are good together. Right for each other, yes. You will make each other happy. Charlotte, take good care of her. She seems to be all ball and brass, but she bleeds deeper than all of us."

"Alright Nana," Lottie whispered. "I will." Then they said their goodbyes and hung up the phone.

Exhaling after she hung up, Lottie looked at Dean and said, "That was interesting. Sandra and Maria will be here to care for you tomorrow. Nana says to tell you not to go to work." Lottie stood.

"I'm making dinner, any preferences?" she asked.

Dean was just happy to have her in her home. "Um, no but let me show you to your room first." As she tried to stand.

Lottie could see she was still very shaky. She wondered if an overnight stay at the hospital was warranted. She'd call Dr. Gee if her condition worsened to see if she needed to take her back.

Dean saw her expression, "No, Charlotte. I'm fine. I am not going back to the hospital."

Not wanting her upset, Charlotte agreed not to take her, but reserved the right to intervene if her condition worsened.

Charlotte baked a pizza for dinner and they had pizza and water. She didn't want to serve Dean wine. It was not a good combination with a head injury.

An hour later Dean yawned and needed to go to bed, so Charlotte helped her into her bedroom and guided her to sit on her bed. She found her sleep wear and proceeded to help her get into them.

"No, I need a bath first." Dean insisted. "I can take a quick shower."

Lottie followed her into the bathroom to help her when Dean swiftly snatched off her top and quickly removed her pants. She was completely nude and Lottie was awed.

She suspected that beneath her clothes Dean was a magnificent woman. Her imagination did not do this Amazonian Goddess justice.

Dean started her shower and climbed in closing the clear glass door behind her.

"Charlotte, you don't have to stand guard. I'll call if I need help." Dean called out to her shell-shocked friend.

"Deanna, I'm right here by the door." Charlotte called back.

Meanwhile in the shower Dean was stimulated beyond belief. She saw the way Charlotte looked at her body. She wondered how her small delicate hands would feel caressing her. She didn't want to let her know how horny she was so she called out for her to leave the bathroom.

Lottie stood outside the bathroom door, waiting for Dean to call her. Soon the door opened and Dean stood before her wearing only a towel.

OK, let's get in bed. I mean let's get you in bed, No into the bed." Lottie stammered as pictures flowed through her mind of all the delicious things she could do to Dean's body.

Dean looked at her strangely. In all of her time of knowing this girl, she never stammered. 

"Charlotte, are you alright?" Dean asked as she dropped her towel.

Looking at her body, Lottie forgot to breath.

"I've got to go." Lottie whispered. Dean then realized what her problem was.

"The great Charlotte Chance isn't afraid to be alone with a girl, is she?" Dean teased.

Charlotte looked at her, face flushed, heart racing, and answered honestly. As Dean pulled on a pair of boxers and a gray wife beater, Charlotte wondered if her skin tasted like sweet berries.

"Deanna, you are perfect. I've never seen a body as amazing as yours." Lottie whispered.

Embarrassed she started to leave, but Dean asked her to stay.

"Wait, you think I'm perfect? Really? Charlotte, don't leave. Don't walk away from me, please." Dean asked her voice so soft Lottie could barely hear her.

Lottie was embarrassed. Here she was not doing her job. She was supposed to be caring for Deanna, not lusting after her.

"Dean, I'm sorry. This is not appropriate. I'm here because you need help, not to take advantage of you. Let's get you into bed." She said as she turned back her covers. Dean climbed into the bed and caught Lottie's hand.

"Lay with me for a while. I just want company." She asked.

Lottie inhaled; the slight musk of the cologne she often wore was still clinging to the skin. Her body was a bundle of nerves coursing with desire for this woman. Lottie knew if she climbed into that bed, there was no way she would not touch this girl.

"Dean, no, I can't. It wouldn't be right, besides. I haven't showered and I..." Lottie stopped when Dean lifted her hand to her lips and kissed her palm.

"Go shower and come to bed with me Charlotte." Dean implored, "Please."

Charlotte caved. Her desire overrode her common sense. She left her room, quickly showered and returned to join her in bed. But when she returned Deanna was asleep. She took a moment, checked her vitals and made sure she was fine. Then she sat on her bed and just watched her.

The girl was amazing. Beautiful, strong, giving, and loving, just a few of the words that described this amazing girl.

After sitting there for a while, Lottie moved over to the guest room where she lay on the bed and fell asleep dreaming of Deanna.

The next morning Charlotte woke up and checked in on her sexy friend who was wide awake and in a teasing mood. "You got lucky last night, but the next time. I will have you Charlotte Chance. You will be in my bed, beneath me, screaming my name as I make you cum all over my tongue and fingers.

Lottie blushed, because Dean had just described the dreams she'd had the night before. "Dean, stop. How are you feeling this morning?" she asked.

Dean never missed a beat answered, "Pretty good. Head hurts, but that's to be expected."

"Your cousins should be here around eight, that's two hours from now. I'm sure they'll entertain you. Let me make you some breakfast before I head to work." Lottie continued. Dean had gotten up and was wearing her robe. She was about to follow Lottie to the kitchen.

Charlotte" she whispered. 

Lottie kept talking and walking away. She couldn't, no wouldn't, allow her body to respond.

"Charlotte, stop." Deanna whispered. "Come kiss me. Just once. If nothing is there, I'll never bother you again, but please come over here and kiss me." Dean commanded before they walked out of her bedroom.

As if her feet had a mind of their own, her body floated over to Deanna. Dean caressed her face and gently tasted her lips. Lottie moaned and grasped Dean in a tight grip as if she'd never let go. 

Dean held Lottie firmly by the waist as the two women indulged themselves in each other. Dean then looked at Lottie, and soon their lips met with Lottie slipping her tongue into Dean's mouth. They both started to suck on each other's tongues.

Lottie's hand had a mind of their own as they eagerly sought the soft velvety mound of Dean's voluptuous breast. Strumming her hard nipple, Lottie drank in the moan that escaped Dean's lips and she played with her nipple as easily as a guitarist plucking his strings. Then she cupped her right breast marveling at the way it fit firmly in her hand 

Dean loved it. Their kiss deepened as Lottie continued to fondle her sex crazed friend.

"Charlotte, stop." Dean gasped and she stood and quickly removed her robe. To Charlotte's delight, she wore nothing underneath. Lottie looked at the beautiful woman before her and took her hand gently leading her to a bed. She had already tasted her, but now she wanted Dean to know how special she truly was,

"Lay back" she whispered. "Let me take care of you." Charlotte kissed her way down Dean's body. When she reached her rock hard nipples, she greedily drank from her breast. 

As she suckled, she allowed her hand to wonder. She caressed her torso, and waist until her questing fingers found the treasure that it wanted, the dark triangle at the apex of her thighs.

At first Lottie just cupped her pussy. Dean was so hot, wet. Her hair was so soft. Charlotte could smell her, for her arousal was so heated.

The she began to slowly stroke her and she sucked her hard nipples deeper into her mouth. Dean was alive with sensations at this point. All coherent thoughts were gone from her mind.

Lottie then moved her kisses lower. Placing careful kisses and nips along her stomach, waist, and torso. She then pressed her face into the hair on Dean's mound and inhaled her scent, gently teasing her clit with her tongue.

Dean almost shot out of the bed at the feel of it. Lottie stopped. She then opened Dean's legs exposing her quivering nether regions to her burning gaze.

"Baby, you are so beautiful." Charlotte whispered in awe. Dean was so turned on that her compliment barely registered. She was usually the one on top, but in a manner of seconds she'd been topped, by the beautiful redhead.

However, Lottie was not done. She'd never had a woman who let her hair grow and Dean was a natural woman. Her scent clung to her hair and was so strong that Lottie had to taste.

Licking her lips, she looked up at Dean. She wanted her permission. She knew Dean was a top, and who didn't want to cause her discomfort by talking that role.

"Baby, can I?..." Lottie asked and Dean groaned.

"Charlotte, please. Eat my pussy." Dean begged rubbing her pussy in her face.

That was all Lottie needed to hear. She spread her pussy lips apart and began to feast on the most delicious cunt she'd seen in a long time.

When Charlotte went face first into her pussy, Dean screamed. She'd often wondered, but now she knew. The girl was dangerous with her tongue. She licked her out and then zeroed in on her button. First she flicked it with her tongue then she sucked it in to her mouth. The next thing Dean felt were fingers being buried inside her dripping hole. Within second she was about to cum and cum hard. Charlotte stopped.

"No, no, no baby." Dean pleaded. She was so close. 

Charlotte stood and removed her boy shorts. 

Dean saw her for the first time. She was clean shaven and wet. Her pink slit glistening with juices as she moved to position herself to please this woman the one way she knew how. 

Climbing into bed, she straddled Dean so that their pussies and clits were pressed together. She then made love to her woman. The feel of their two over heated pussies was driving each woman in sane. They each began to fuck each other hard and faster. Their clits were protruding and throbbing more with each stroke.

Then Lottie did something Dean didn't expect, she stood rigid and slammed her pussy into Dean. Dean came, and she came hard. No woman had ever dominated her like Charlotte. Dean screamed and as soon as she came her climax pushed Charlotte over the edge as she force their quivering pussies to stay pressed together as their cum mingled together pooling beneath their prone bodies.

Quickly shifting her position, Charlotte pulled a shivering, Dean into her arms, where she held her, kissed her, and told her how wonderful, beautiful, and special she was.

Once the climax subsided, Dean held on to Charlotte and didn't want her to go. So she asked, "Charlotte, can you stay with me today? I... I mean, can you take the day off of work?"

Lottie kissed her, "Baby, I have to go in, but I'll come by before I go home tonight alright."

Looking at the clock, Lottie hopped out of bed to hit the shower. 

Dean lay in bed. She was whipped.

Charlotte came from her bathroom dressed for work. She saw Dean still in bed and she smiled.

"Dean, your cousins are coming over. Do you want them to catch you in your birthday suit?" Lottie teased.

Dean blushed and then moved to put her robe back on. "I'd better shower and dress then." She whispered blushing.

"Wait." Charlotte called. She then walked over to Dean and pulled her close for a kiss. Dean wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close. She never wanted to let go, but Lottie had to go to work.

Soon the sound of a familiar engine interrupted their solitude. Lottie was fully dressed as was Dean and awaiting the arrival of her companions for the day.

Her cousins arrived just as Lottie was headed to the nearest bus stop to catch her bus to work.

"Hey girls," Maria greeted as she walked into the house. 

"Maria, Sandra, Hey. I was just heading to the bus stop. Glad I got to see you guys." Lottie said as she headed to the door.

"Wait, bus stop!" Sandra stopped her. "No, Lottie, I'll take you."

"No, Sandra. I can catch the bus. Besides, Dean needs you here. I'm good." Lottie gently refused her offer.

"I'm calling Nana. I'm telling her that you're being pigheaded and won't let me help."

"Fine, then Sandra, You can take me to work, but you'd better not make me late." Lottie replied exasperated.

So she and Sandra headed to the hospital. Lottie was thinking about the events that had happened just before the girls arrived and finding that she was becoming aroused at the memory.                                     Sandra saw she was deep in thought, so she decided to mess with her. 

"So tell me, did my gorgeous cousin rock your world." Sandra teased. Not knowing if anything happened or not. Everyone knew Dean was half in love with this girl but Lottie was hard to read. She'd just gotten out of a pretty intense relationship, so she might not be ready to move on.

Lottie stammered, giving Sandra all she needed to know.

"Oh my God! You and Dean. Ok girl dish. How was it?" Sandra asked 

Lottie blushed; she wasn't ready to talk to anyone yet.

"Sandra, yes and I'm not ready to talk. Look, take care of her for me, alright." Lottie said as they pulled into the hospital parking lot.

Sandra smiled, "It's alright Lottie. We'll get Dean to dish." 

Lottie exited her car slightly embarrassed, slightly disturbed. She knew Sandra and Maria loved their cousin, but she didn't want them teasing her and making her uncomfortable.

Dean sat in the house with Maria waiting for Sandra to return. Of all of the cousins, she was closer to these two. They were the closest in age and were the first ones who she came out to.

They were also with her the first time Charlotte entered Opal's. Dean was enthralled, but Charlotte would not give her the time of day. So Dean decided that she'd make her notice her one way or another. Over the next year, if Charlotte showed interest in any woman, Dean made it her business to get the girl's attention.

She made sure very few women accompanied her home. The only woman she couldn't get rid of was Terri, but in the end, Terri brought them together.

"So, cuz... I heard you and your girl got busy last night. Dish!" Sandra teased after they'd had breakfast and was simply sitting around talking.

Dean who was rarely embarrased, blushed smiling, thinking about her time with Charlotte.

Meanwhile, Lottie could not get the events of the morning out of her mind. Before long it was time for lunch, so she called Dean to check in.

"Hello." Maria answered.

"Hey Maria, just checking in. How is Deanna?" Lottie asked trying to sound casual.

Maria laughed, "Checking on your boo baby, huh. She's fine. We didn't torture her too badly. Hold on."

Maria told her laughing. Soon Dean picked up.

"Hello Charlotte. How's work?" She asked although her heart was pounding as she simply wanted to hear her voice.

"It's alright. How are you feeling?" Lottie asked, breathlessly. She could not figure out why this woman made her lose all coherent thought. Last year, she recalled chuckling at the memory, Deanna Lanetti was the bane of her existence, but in the past few months, she's become the center of her world.

She loved being around her family, but Deanna was always her main draw. She tried to keep her desire under wraps by focusing her attentions on time with her relatives. But this morning, she could hold back no longer. When the chance to be with her presented itself, she took it.

"Are you coming by when you get off? Dean asked. "I'll pick you up." She suggested nervously.

Lottie smiled, "I get off at three. Meet me in the front lobby alright." She answered.

Hey, I've got to eat before going back. I'll see you at three, right?" Lottie queried.

Smiling, Dean nodded and then answered Yes!

Both women hung up smiling. At two fifty-five, Dean, along with Sandra and Maria, were sitting in the front lobby of the hospital waiting for Lottie to get off work.

Soon she did and her eyes zeroed in on her lady. Heart pounding, palms sweating, it took every ounce of self-control she had not to rush over and wrap herself around her new lover.

Then she noticed her two friends, Deanna's nosy cousins, standing slightly behind her wearing twin smirks.

Sandra drove Dean to the hospital because they didn't want her driving just yet.  

They told Lottie they got there around two because Dean wanted to visit her partner. She had a chance to speak with him and his wife. He was going to make a full recovery. 

Lottie smiled and listened. She'd checked in on him as well, and knew that as soon as he got permission, just like her lover, he was back on the beat.

When they arrived at Dean's home, Nana called. She spoke to all four women. She told Dean to take another day off, because she wasn't fully recovered.

Dean smiled and told her she had to go back to work, bed rest was driving her insane. Nana was not happy, so she asked for Lottie.

"Charlotte, you are a nurse, no? Tell Deanna to stay home and rest tomorrow. She needs it. I will come sit with her myself if she needs me."

Lottie smiled, "Nana, I'll try, but she may not listen."

"She will listen to you. You are very important to her. Tell her," nana demanded.

Looking at Dean, Lottie relayed Nana's message. Dean scoffed. Then she asked, "Charlotte, will you play hookie with me?"

Lottie laughed, "Maybe, we'll see."

To Nana she explained, "She'll stay." Then she paused, "No Nana, there's no need for you to come.

Nana gave some more directives.

"I'll bring her to you tomorrow for lunch." Lottie answered with Dean looking more confused by the minute.

Soon she hung up and Dean quickly wrapped her arms around her, kissing her soundly.

Soon they heard voices interrupting them as Maria and Sandra feigned shock at their actions.

All four women laughed, as Sandra and Maria bid them farewell.

Soon, Lottie and Dean were alone.

The two women couldn't wait to get their clothes off. Their clothes were missing long before they made it to the bedroom. 

Lottie muttered out "My pussy on fire for you Dean. Take me make; me you own fuck toy." She hissed.

Taking Lottie's hand, Dean led her to her bed, which was waiting for them invitingly. By now both women were totally naked. Dean pulled open the bed side draw taking out one very large strap on cock, with a thick vein protruding on the side. This cock was special, because it could shoot cum




Charlotte and Deanna



Lottie shivered at the thought of her woman dominating her with such a massive tool, then filling her with cream. Lottie was bisexual, and one thing she loved about sex with men was feeling them cum deep inside her pussy. 

She smiled as she realized, her Deanna would fulfill the best of both worlds from her.

Gently, Dean pushed her back on the bed. Lottie landed eyes glued to Dean and her massive member.

Slowly Dean crawled on top of her gently spreading her legs. Rubbing her pussy into Lottie's Dean groaned. As the women shared a kiss so powerful, both women were left heaving.

Dean pulled away momentarily to Lottie's protest and stood. She took her harness and donned the massive cock. Lottie's pussy creamed at the thought of Dean ramming her with that monster.

The monster side strap on cock standing out a full ten inches, long and very thick. "Come here," Dean ordered and Lottie rose to her knees and crawled over to the big woman. Licking her lips, she wanted to taste the monster cock standing before her. Seeing the look of utter desire on her lovers face, made Dean's pussy swell with even more desire. 

She decided to treat her. So gently pushing a small button, she sent a quick squirt of cream shooting from the end of the dildo all over Lottie. Lottie stood and quickly dropped to her knees and engulfed the head of the cock into her mouth savoring the taste of the sweet creamy white substance.

The sight of Lottie sucking on the cock caused Dean to cum. She groaned as a hot, short climax slammed through her body.

She sat on the bed knees shaky, heart pounding, unable to breath. She whispered four short words. The words caused Lottie to freeze.

"Charlotte, I love you." Dean whispered.'

Lottie froze. Dean cursed herself. She messed up, said it too soon.

Lottie looked up at her, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Deanna, are you sure. I'm not..."

Dean stopped her, "Not what, Charlotte?" she asked.

"I'm not, the kind of girl you need. I'm not good enough." She answered recalling how her last lover chose someone else.

Dean looked in her eyes and knew immediately where her thoughts went.

"Don't think about her. She didn't deserve you, Charlotte. I hated when you were with her. I hated her for how she treated you. I sat back for two years watching you cry over her. She's gone now, and I'll never treat you that way.

Stunned, Lottie looked at Dean. She had often vocalized her displeasure at her relationship with Terri.

Lottie stood, wrapped her arms around her new lady in her life, she like the way she made her feel very special. Then she whispered, "Dean." 

Dean loved the sound of her name on her lips. That's all it took for the big woman to lose it. The sound of her name on Charlotte's lips always affected her on a primal level. 

"You mean everything to me, Deanna. I love you, so much. I never thought I'd find another love after Terri, but now, I have you." Lottie whispered.

When you came to the hospital covered in blood yesterday. I couldn't do my job. But I knew you cared about your partner, so I had to help him. I had to. I couldn't have something happen to him, because it would destroy you.

Even when I was with her, I wanted you. That's one reason I fought you so hard.

Deanna, you are my everything. I don't want to be without you. Not even for a moment." 

She leaned into her woman, loving the feel of their skin being pressed together, and then she realized that Deanna was crying too.

Lottie pulled back and brushed Dean's inky black locks from her face as she stared into her dark smoky eyes.

Then she kissed her lover, hoping to convey in that kiss that she never needed worry about them again.

Dean then lifted her lover, gently placing her in the center of her bed. Crawling over her, she kissed her with such passion, that she left no doubt to Lottie who held her heart.

This morning, Charlotte made love to her, this afternoon; she made sure Charlotte knew she was now hers.

Dean kissed her lips, drinking  her softness, as she slowly moved down her neck, nibbling and biting, Marking her clear skin. She gripped her breast kneading the glorious globe as Lottie desired to hold her even tighter.

Dean stopped, and took Lottie's hands. She placed them above her head. "Don't move," she whispered. "Let me love you know."

Lottie nodded unable to speak for she was dazed by the level of hunger that showed in her eyes.

Lottie sighed, laid back, closed her eyes and awaited Dean's glorious assault on her senses.

Dean loved this woman. When it began, she had no clue, but tonight, Charlotte Chance would know that she held her heart.

So Dean kneeled between Charlotte's spread thighs. She eyed her clean shaven pussy and licked her lips in anticipation. Tentatively, she ran the tip of her tongue up and down Charlotte's slit, causing her to shift and hiss loudly. 

Her taste exploded on her tongue, and she was so close to climaxing again. The base of the dildo was providing such a delicious pressure against her clit.

But she stopped to warn her wanton lover. "Don't move, she breathed heavily. "Or I stop."

Lottie groaned, and Dean stopped moving her tongue.

Lottie froze, because she more than anything desired the feel of her lips on her body,

"Dean, please," she whispered.

Her small plea broke Dean and she dived into het cunt drinking her juices, tasting her, loving her the only way she truly could.

Then she rose and kneeled between Lottie's spread thighs. She leaned in and kissed her, and Lottie broke her positions quickly wrapped her arms around her lover. Dean positioned the bulbous cockhead at her dripping opening and slid home.

Lottie opened her legs as wide as she could begging Dean, "Please, Dean. Love me."

Dean slowly, but deftly made love to her woman. She took her time slowly stretching her cunt wide open as she took her monster cock. Dean slid in and out, in and out of her body. The base stimulating her clit with each stroke. 

Moaning, Dean stayed in control of her strokes. She wanted no needed to cum so badly, but she wanted Lottie to cum first.

"Please, please Dean, fuck me!" Lottie pleaded. 

Her soft please pushed Dean over the edge and she fucked her furiously, pulling most of the ten inch member out to slam back inside again.

Lottie was so close and Dean was just displaying right amount of passion and roughness she needed to fly. 

"Deanna, please" Lottie pleaded, needing to reach completion.

It was then that Dean allowed herself to go, and she reached between them, pushing the button releasing the gel-like cum deep inside Charlotte as she too screamed as her climax took over. The feel of her woman cumming inside her gave Lottie even more pleasure and her body convulsed around the thick member that was impaled deep inside of her. 

Both women climaxed viciously and completely, while declaring their love for each other. As the tremors subsided, neither woman could speak. They just lay there, tied together by the massive dildo which had them locked in place.

Realizing her weight Dean moved off of Lottie, but Lottie didn't want to let go. "Give me a sec, babe," Dean whispered as she moved to take off the harness and then returned to her lover, holding her close.

Soon, replete and happy, both women fell asleep in each other's arms. 

A few hours later, Dean awoke to the sensational feeling of being pleasured. She opened her eyes and saw Charlotte greedily tasting her.

It was the most delicious feeling she'd had in a long time, so she moaned. 

"Well, whispered Charlotte, "I see you finally woke up."

Charlotte rose up and that was when Dean realized she was strapped. 

Charlotte crawled between her thighs, kissed her, and told her. "Now it's my turn to love my woman."

Placing the head of the dildo at Dean's opening, Charlotte slid in. Dean rarely took. As a top, she assumed the role as giver, but with Charlotte she found she liked being the bottom.

Realizing that Dean was a top, Lottie was gentle. She rode her lover to completion once again. Again after hours of sexual bliss, both women fell asleep. Holding each other, loving each other.

The next morning, Lottie called in and took the day off from work. Dean did the same, much to her supervisor relief. He was about to order her not to come in.

The two girls rose early, showered, had breakfast and planned to go see Nana around noon.

Deanna was silent for a moment, pensive even. 

Lottie watched her as she pondered; wondering what was going on with her.

Soon she decided to go to her apartment and get some fresh clothes when Dean asked her not to leave.

Charlotte smiled. Dean was so protective of her, even when she didn't need it.

Dean insisted on going with her and she took her car. When they arrived at Lottie's small apartment, Dean had a seat while Lottie changed. 

"Ummmmm, Dean baby. Can I get some help in here?" Lottie called from her bedroom.

While she was in her bedroom, she was overwhelmed with the need to see her lover sprawled across her bed.

Dean quickly moved to the bedroom to help her.

'What is it Charlotte...?"...' the words froze on her lips as Lottie stood before her wearing the sheerest and tiniest bustier and small red panties.

Deanna dropped to her knees before her, stunned by her sheer sexiness and so turned on that her knees gave out.

Wrapping her arms around her waist, Deanna inhaled her scent.

As soon as Dean touched her, Lottie's pussy flooded her panties. She never wanted a woman like she did this girl.

Within seconds, Dean had her in her bed sans panties and feasting on her breast. Stroking her clit, Dean opened her pussy lips up and slammed two fingers deep inside her. 

"Cum for me Charlotte. Cum for me baby." Dean demanded. 

Lottie came all over her soaking her bead in her juices.

Dean smiled. She loved making her baby come so easily.

Holding her close. Lottie asked, "What were you thinking about so hard earlier?" she asked.

Dean rolled away. She hated feeling like this but she needed to tell the truth. She needed to know the truth.

"Charlotte, I love you. You know that, right. But I want to know about Terri. I know she's gone, but when and if she comes back... I mean, I need to know how you feel about her."

Lottie froze. She rarely thought about Terri now. The moment she saw Dean, Terri paled in comparison.

"Baby. I won't lie to you. Terri is my best friend. She has seen me through some of the hardest times in my life. For that I will always be grateful." Dean stiffened. She was waiting for her to declare her friendship with Terri as being unbreakable.

Deanna rose and began to dress. She couldn't listen to her defend Terri. 

"Dean, wait. Let me finish. She is my best friend, but you hold my heart. If you are not comfortable with our friendship, I won't talk to her." Looking directly in her eyes, Lottie asked.

"Tell me what you need Dean?? I love you. I meant that. I won't lose you over her." She explained emphatically.

Dean smiled and quickly embraced her lover. "I can't remember not loving you." She whispered as she looked deep into her eyes and gently caressed her cheek.

Lottie saw the time and said, "Girl we meet Nana in half an hour, let's shower and dress.

Then both women showered together.

Of course they were late meeting Nana. When they arrived, Nana was sitting and wearing an all knowing grin.

"Ahhh, Deanna, Charlotte. About time." Nana teased.

Both women blushed and started to apologize for being late for lunch

"Pish posh, forget lunch. It's about time you two found each other." Nana informed them.

"Now, Deanna, are you happy?" Nana asked.

Dean looked at her grandmother and then her lover.

"Yes, Nana, very happy." Dean answered gazing at Charlotte.

Then Nana looked at Lottie. "Charlotte, are you happy as well?"

Lottie laughed and embraced the older lady.

"Yes, Nana. I never thought... I don't deserve her, but I will do all I can to make her happy." 

Nana sighed. In all of her years, she just wanted her family to be content. Deanna was not happy for so long, but now she had her somene special. Charlotte deserved happiness and so much more. These two were good for each other.

"Good." Nana declared. "You two love each ohter; take care of each other, right."

Lottie nodded in agreement and Dean pulled her into her arms, kissing her tenderly. 

Thinking back to how the worst night of her life led her to the perfect partner and the family she'd always dreamed of. Yes, she was very happy and blessed.

THE END

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