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Covet

By: BellaBestia



I loved him beyond morality. I wanted him from the first moment I saw him. And because he belonged to another, I wanted him even more.

It was a strange threesome sitting at the dinner table in the French restaurant – myself, by best friend and her new fiancé. She had insisted on inviting me to get to know him, to get my approval or opinion. I had heard of him, her frequent descriptions of his sweetness, his gentleness, and his kindness. I even knew he was very well endowed, as she had, in a moment of mildly drunken indiscretion, described to me how he had painfully made her a woman. The cliché was trite, but we can only forgive those so foolishly in love.

I had no desire to meet him, this man who placed himself like a wedge between us, between the bonds of female friendship. I was in fact convinced he was some prematurely balding, simpering boy my friend had decided, at the ripe age of twenty-eight, to settle for. Indeed, there was nothing extraordinary about the fair-haired young man who sat across from me, his strong hand cupped possessively over that of my friend. But something stirred in me a need, an illogical desire to taste his mouth and measure for myself his breadth and girth.

Throughout dinner I flirted shamelessly, flushed cheeks punctuating every salacious sentence. I laughed freely, drank copiously and stared into his hazel eyes brazenly. My dear friend, his little love, had all but disappeared into the periphery of our vision, but when I felt a lull in conversation or an intensity made uncomfortable, only then would I glance and smile at my friend, assuring her that I did indeed approve of her beau. In fact I more than approved. But hers was a blind trust and deaf love of us both.

By the end of the bottle of Shiraz my skin was red-hot and my eyes heavy lidded. I could say that thirst made me lick my lips slowly, or that heat made me wipe dew from my neck, fingers trailing across breastbone; but it would be a lie. I wanted there to be no misunderstanding, no crossed signals. If I could I would have crawled to him on top of the table to whisper in his ear that I wanted him to make me scream that night, but I had to slip into subtlety for the moment. I believed the message was understood, all the same. 

My friend excused herself and proceeded to the ladies room, like clockwork, to vomit up the expensive haute cuisine she had just consumed, before returning much later after fastidiously washing her hands and rinsing her mouth several times, and re-applying her lipstick. I did not accompany her, as she prefers to perform this ritual alone. 

And so we two were left alone.

His hand rested palm-down on the white linen tablecloth. With a red-lacquered fingernail I traced the faint blue-green vein from just under the cuff of his sleeve down the top of his hand and between his fingers. I looked up at him through a veil of black eyelashes and ran the tip of my tongue along my top lip.

"You're drunk," he said smiling.

"Not really," I replied.

"We shouldn't..." he stammered.

"Of course not..." I concurred.

" I love her, you know." He countered.

"Of course you do." I agreed.

"So you don't..." he faltered, confused.

"No, I don't love you. I don't know you that well. But I would like to make love to you. I have a tremendous need to fuck you." I hissed under my breath.

Just then our poppet returned, smelling of rose soap and freshly applied perfume. We decided to call it a night and while the waiter wisked off with the fiancé's credit card, he offered to hail me a cab. I'll be right back dear, I remember he had said over his shoulder as he lightly touched my arm to escort me to the door and out to the dark street.

Once outside and beyond any view from the restaurant window, he pushed me up against the snow-wet wall and buried his tongue in my mouth. I bit his lip and sucked, panted and moaned against his mouth as his hand snaked up my skirt and along my inner thigh to the damp heat between my legs. My mind was blank, I was a white-hot core burning my skin from the inside out. I had never known such a pure state of lust. Then just as suddenly he broke away, leaving my mouth open and sore, the cold wintry air rushing in and setting my teeth on edge. I touched my fingers to my raw lips as if to confirm that I had felt the kiss after all.

"We can't!" he breathed heavily on my face, his warm breath melting the flakes of snow that had landed on my cheeks.

"Not here," I offered.

"Where do you live?" he asked, for himself or the taxi driver, I was not sure. I mumbled something, an address and suite number, as he helped me into the back seat of the car. Would he come? Would I wait for him? The door slammed and the car lurched forward.

I reached my apartment feeling ashamed and incredibly stupid. He was a decent man humouring the drunk, sluttish friend of his fiancée. I felt horrible. I took a cold shower and got into bed naked, hoping I would freeze to death and never have to see either of them again.

I had just started to drift into sleep when the doorbell rang. At first I assumed it was the neighbour's and ignored it. Then it rang again, several times, insistently. I grabbed a red silk dressing gown and wrapped it around me tightly, then went to open the door.

He was standing there, breathing heavily as though he had been running. A few wet flakes of snow still clung to his hair. For a split second I wanted to close the door in his face, but perhaps sensing this he pushed open the door and stepped in. He grabbed me by the shoulders and drew me to him, to his mouth for another ravaging kiss. The white heat was lit in me again. He took two more steps into the apartment with me, our mouths fused, and kicked the door closed behind him. He untied the sash of my dressing gown and let it fall to the floor at my feet like a shimmering pool of blood. 

I dug my fingers in his hair and pushed his head down. He paused to bury his face between my breasts; the stubble of his beard scratched the delicate skin. He took each nipple into his mouth in turn and sucked lightly. I moaned softly and continued to push his head down further. He licked a trail from breastbone to abdomen, kissing and biting the soft skin. He was on his knees, and I remember thinking that the dust would dirty his black pants. He still had his coat on. I tried to slip the coat off of him, but had to stop and steady myself on his shoulders when I felt his tongue slip softly inside me. He eased my legs a bit further apart and slid his tongue down further. My legs shook and my breath became ragged. I slipped down onto the floor like slipping into a dream. I helped him shrug off the coat, pull off the tie; I even tore a button of his shirt in my haste. He fumbled with his belt as I slipped my hand between zipper teeth to grasp his cock. He stood suddenly, shucking off pants and shoes, underwear and socks. 

I sat cross-legged on the floor and watched his cock bobbing a few mere inches from my face. I slowly got to my knees and took him into my mouth. I heard him moan softly as I slid my tongue along the entire length of him. The tip butted against the back of my throat, and I pulled back. I concentrated on the first few inches, sucking and licking and occasionally tickling with teeth until he came. He shuddered, but I never loosened my grip, my hand pumping at the base and my mouth churning at the tip. He pulled at my hair gently, trying to extract my mouth from him, but I only let him go once he was hard again.

I stood up slowly allowing my body to rub against his legs, brush his hardened organ. Up on tiptoe I kissed his cheek. I murmured against his jawbone "Can she do that?"

"She doesn't like to, says it's demeaning." He replied hoarsely, bitterly, into my hair. 

I thought to myself, how selfish of her. "But you do it to her?" My curiosity was piqued. 

"No, she doesn't like it either." He replied. I saw a shadow of pain steal across his face, and frustration. 

I took a half step away and stared into his face. The moonlight seeping through the window gave his eyes an otherworldly glow and shone on the wet film across his brow. "I'll bet you're great at it, too." I smiled seductively and took his hand to lead him to the bedroom.

I sat on the edge of the bed, keeping my eyes locked onto his. I slid across to until I could throw my head over the other side. I stared at the ceiling it seemed, forever. Then I felt his weight on the bed and his hands sliding along my thighs. I bit my lip and fingers twisted the sheets in anticipation. Then came that tongue, tentative at first, parting gently my vaginal lips, caressing the coral folds slowly, then his teeth bumped my clitoris and I had to stifle a scream. He pushed my legs further apart, as far as they could go and then some more until the muscles ached. I grabbed handfuls of hair, clawed at his neck, attempting to pull him in further. He rolled my clitoris between his tongue and teeth before plunging his tongue deep into me, lapping at the moisture from the very source. I saw flashes of coloured lights behind my tightly shut eyes, my back arched, my neck ached and my body shook uncontrollably. I pushed my chin into my shoulder in a feeble attempt to still the trembling, but the tremor only cascaded down faster. I pushed him off and then pulled him up to me, kissing and licking my own wetness from his mouth. I breathed in his smell and mine, and it was wine, I was drunk again.

I could have gone on kissing him, sucking at his tongue and lips, but like a thief he slipped into me. I didn't even realize what he was doing until he had flipped me over top of him, took a firm old on my hips and broke in with a single upward thrust. I screamed; it was like being impaled, like an invasion, and I thought I could never take pleasure in it. But it only took a few more thrusts before even the pain became it's own distinct pleasure. I straightened my back, my palms on his chest for balance. I rocked and swayed and matched his rhythm. I bucked faster as his orgasm crested and shut my eyes tightly. I no longer saw him, not even acknowledged him. I felt I had lost my identity as well; it was only that core, that centre of the universe that mattered, that even existed. I gasped and whimpered when I felt him erupt inside me, we panted breathlessly into each other's mouths.

I collapsed on top of him, is cock softly recoiling inside me. I licked his sweaty shoulder and savoured the salty taste of him. I even wiped his tears with my fingers, sucking the moisture from my fingertips. Nothing tasted so sweet; nothing ever has, as those tears.

"Shit," he cursed softly against my cheek, "shit, what am I doing?" he sounded miserable, lovely and pained.

"Indeed," I whispered menacingly, "she's your fiancée after all." I conjured her like a phantom third in the warm room, an unspeaking third in the dark corner watching, envious.

Suddenly angry, he pushed me off of him. "She's your best friend," he retorted, trying to make me share in his remorse.

"Yes," I said "But we were never really very close." I smiled and kissed his thigh.

"I love her," he whispered meekly, but his body betrayed him, his cock hardened as I inched a trail of kisses along his thigh.

"I know," I murmured against a still-wet patch of skin between his legs. "I know."

And I do. 

I don't ask for his love, she can have it. I want what he can't give her, what she is unwilling to ask for or take from him. I want his open mouth after he has innocently bussed her goodnight or good morning. I want his bruises, shaped like fingers, on my thighs. I want his cock hard beyond enduring. I want his hunger and his thirst. I want all the things he cannot do to her – fingers and tongue in places and doing things she cannot possibly imagine. He tells me that she reads the Kama Sutra in short teasing passages before kissing him goodnight and turning over to sleep. He and I write new chapters together. We share a secret, an equal shame, a preternatural carnal knowledge that belies polite smiles at dinner. We can be debased, profane and savage together, wisps of debasement and profanity and savagery slipping into our other life together, as friends connected by the ties of love and trust to another purer soul. In her presence we feel guilt and shame burn our skin, every nuanced word and accidental touch is kerosene on that flame.

And yet, we do not repent. We can fall no further. If this is evil, we burn happily in our mutual inferno. At parties we look like old friends chatting nicely. But if you listen closely, you can hear the song our drowning souls sing. "I want you inside me," I'll whisper then laugh. "I'm going to fuck you sore," he replies and refills my drink. We are chums, she says to anyone who asks, "my two best friends."

Ah, his hands on me, rough skin on tender swollen breasts; his teeth and my tongue clashed in war. In parked cars, in alleyways, in the elevator to my apartment, in darkened shop doorways. Once even in her living room when she hurried upstairs to fetch a scarf. We are reckless, dangerous, and desperate. If more than a week goes by wherein I do not touch him, I go slightly mad, snapping at everyone, throwing books and dishes, running until exhausted so I can finally sleep and dream his hands on me. 

Our meetings will become ever more frequent, our risks greater to be together. He says he does not want to hurt her, but a small evil part of me does. The part that no longer wants to share, does not want the crumbs. But I know better than to make him choose. Besides, if he only belonged to me, I would no longer want him, the desire for his body and his touch would diminish. So long as he belongs to another, I will always want him, I will always covet him. 

Covet



The cell phone rang at a most inopportune time as I studied the project I was working on. I took it out of my pocket and did not recognize the number. Fearing that I would soon be subjected to a telephone solicitor I answered the call. It was much worse.

"May I speak to Mark Mallon?" the officious voice enquired. I assured the person that she was speaking to Mark Mallon. "Please hold for Ms. Peterson" the voice ordered.

Instead I went ahead and terminated the call. As I suspected within a minute I received another call. "Mr. Mallon, I'm sorry we were cut off. Please hold for Ms. Peterson." Again, I terminated the call.

Once more the phone began to ring and once again I answered. An exasperated tone came from my unknown caller. She began to explain how this scenario was suppose to work. I interrupted her mid-sentence.

"Please inform Ms. Peterson that I have no inclination to talk to her today or any other day." Again I hung up and tried to focus on my work. Within five minutes the phone began to ring again. I studied the number and recognized it from the previous two calls, I decided to let it go to voice mail.

Soon the icon appeared that I had a message. I didn't feel any need to find out what the message was. By now I had decided on my course of action concerning my task and began placing the items in place.

The telephone again interrupted the tranquility and I chose to turn the damn thing off. One of the first lessons I ever learned about power tools was to concentrate on what you are doing. Not only did it help maintain safety, but, it also allowed the time to pass by quickly.

Now I focused in placing the 2 x 4 x 10 feet pine boards into a vertical parallel pattern with 16 inches intervals between the studs. Then came the horizontal 2 x 4 x 10's; one on top, the other two on bottom. Using my measuring tape I determined it was square and went to each stud driving nails from the power hammer securing the studs into the frame.

I stopped to examine my work and decided it was acceptable and lifted the frame upright and braced it against the unfinished basement wall. Leaning against the frame I quickly found one of the pre-drilled holes I had made in the horizontal bottom board and grabbed the second air hammer and drove the long concrete nails all along the bottom.

A quick cursory look with my level showed me it was ok and then I went back to the first air hammer and quickly had the top braced. Another check to make sure it had remained squared and I stepped back to observe the result.

By itself, it didn't appear much in the stark empty basement, but, I had made the frame and had it up within 15 minutes. So at four frames an hour; I should be able to complete the entire framing this evening and be one step closer to completion.

I was glad that the earlier projects of running the conduit lines and electrical wiring and the HVAC ductwork had worked out well. Thank God, the plumbing had already been installed, so that was one headache I wouldn't have to worry about.

So this evening I would finish the framing. Saturday, put up the insulation and paneling and Sunday lay down the wood parquet tiles. That would certainly justify my weekend reward of the six pack of beer icing down in my ice cooler. Hard to believe that in a few short weeks I would be able to check off the entire basement project.

Hard to believe that I now limited my drinking to a single six pack of beer per weekend. Two beers a day after all the daily tasks were completed. It hadn't been that long ago that a six pack would serve as a warm up for some serious drinking. Thanks to Ms. Peterson; Ms. Denise fucking Peterson; Ms. Denise fucking ex wife Peterson.

I shook my head at the animosity I felt for Denise now. How could a woman I was so totally committed in love with turn out to be such a bitch? I forced myself to focus back onto my framing. The more I worked; the less time I would have to think; the sooner I would get through, so I could jump into a hot shower and then knock down the two longnecks. Then off to bed and if I was lucky there would be no dreams.

That was the crux of my existence nowadays. Find a way to stay busy that way there wouldn't be any time for the pain. It was a helluva way to live, but, it beats dying every day, I thought. With that last final thought I began preparing the boards for the second frame, and the third, and the fourth, and so on down the line. I staggered upstairs for my libations and for a hot shower before bed.

When I woke up I remembered to turn on my cell phone again. Twenty frigging calls and voice mail messages and all from the same source as yesterday. I dumped all the calls without bothering to listening to whatever demands Denise's secretary thought were necessary.

As I dressed I was cheered by the fact that I wouldn't be bothered for the weekend. I went to my computer and checked on a few pressing business situations. I sent out several e-mails on how to deal with the situations and went downstairs.

A quick trip to the kitchen provided me with my bowl of Wheaties and I munched down my Breakfast of Champions. With a sigh, I trudged back downstairs to the basement and put on my mask and started installing the rolls of insulation to the frames. I had a portable radio tuned to a classic rock station and so I whiled away the hours interspersing the songs with the noise of my labors and the occasional profanity slipping from me.

By mid afternoon, I had completed the installation and went upstairs to fix a sandwich. As I ate the turkey sandwich I stared outside to the gloomy, rainy November day. It reminded me of another rainy November day from last year.

*******************

I remembered how I stood drenched outside mys' house after I landed in Chicago on Thanksgiving morning. This would be a surprise visit as I certainly didn't get an invitation to attend from either my wife, or children, or my parents in laws. When the door swung open I saw the surprised look on my brother in law's face. Before he could come up with some lame excuse I managed to walk by him into the happy bustle in the house.

My appearance brought an instant silence to the joyous occasion. My 14-year-old son, Brian, looked down at the floor. Susan, my 17-year-old daughter hurriedly excused herself from the room. 

My wife, Denise, extracted herself from the lap of the stranger who was holding her so familiarly. Even in her shame she sought to mitigate the damage by introducing me to Paul Starling. The stranger arose out of the chair and held out his hand for me to shake. I just stood there and stared at him until he finally dropped his hand.

Meanwhile, my dear Mother scurried into the room to assist in making sure nothing dramatic would happen. I thought, at least I was getting her carpet wet as the raindrops continued to drip off my trenchcoat.

"Why, Mark, we were not expecting you! When did you arrive?" I heard the bitch say.

I ignored her as I tried to catch my wife's face, but, she apparently found something very interesting on her mother's wall and would not turn and face me. I went back to the front door and walked outside and pulled out my cellphone and called the taxi service. With any luck I could catch the cab that had dropped me off before he got too far away. 

No one from inside the house came out to persuade me to stay.

************************

I sighed as the painful memory came to an end. I went back down to the basement to begin installing the sheets of paneling. The job went by quickly as the sheets; while bulky, also covered a large area as I used the paneling nails to drive into the studs with my claw hammer.

Lucky for me the paneling that had cutouts for electrical wall outlets and heating/air vents all fitted perfectly. Now, I could use the heating unit, but, I found out that I quickly worked up a sweat so there wasn't much of a need for heat.

I was pleased that I had planned so carefully as I only had a few boards and a couple of sheets of spare paneling left over. I carried them to the garage and stowed them away until I had a chance to get them into the workshop.

I installed the electrical outlets and completed the wiring sequence for each one. Since I used the traditional color coding; there was no way to mess up a ground wire to a hot wire. Then hooking up the system to a circuit breaker into the breaker box; I determined that I had power to each new outlet and adequate circulation to the HVAC system. 

In the great scheme of things it wasn't that big a deal, but, I screwed in the outlet's covers and the ducts' covers. Then I swept down the floor several times with the ShopVac to get the floor ready for the adhesive I would be applying in the morning. But now I had a shower calling for me.

The hot water soothed the aching muscles and I luxuriated in the steamy water. What a contrast to the bone chilling cold I felt going back to O'Hare Airport that past Thanksgiving. I was numbed physically and mentally as I negotiated for a ticket back home, damn the cost. I knew my marriage was dead; I just didn't know when the funeral would take place.

I toweled off and decided to go on to bed. Tomorrow would be another long and hopefully rewarding day. Almost immediately I went to sleep.

Sunday morning I woke to the sound of a thunderstorm brewing outside. I slipped on my Levi's and work boots and T shirt and trudged downstairs. I only hope we wouldn't lose power during the day. I turned the radio to a sports station so I could catch the game.

I began to liberally apply the adhesive to the basement floor and smoothed it even throughout the entire surface area. I had considered making a custom oak parquet floor for the basement, but, decided it would not be cost efficient. So I had boxes of premade parquet tiles waiting by the stairs.

I waited for the adhesive to set for its optimal time before starting to set the tiles down. I went back upstairs and mentally took notes on how to proceed for the next big project; sanding down the floors, and staining and varnishing them in the most expedient manner.

I made a list of the tools I would have to rent; a floor sander, and a floor buffer were the two most important. The other tools; small sanders, pry bars, hammers, brushes, rollers I already had in the work shop.

I would have to be extra careful not to crack or break the vintage baseboards or the moldings. I would also have to catalogue each individual piece so I would be able to fit each piece to the room it belonged in.

I went into the kitchen and brewed up a pot of coffee. I looked around the improved kitchen I had finished a month ago. Bright fluorescent light lit up the entire kitchen area, the new state of the art appliances sparkled, I sat in the breakfast nook adjacent to the new food preparation island I had built. The new Mexican glazed tiles added a colorful atmosphere to the island.

All I had to do was to knock out a non load-bearing wall to a room that was previously a small servant dining area to vastly extend the entire kitchen. Even expanding the shelves and the pantry still made the room too big. I finally built in a brick pizza oven that set off the final touch to the kitchen.

The thought of pizza brought to mind how I had met Denise and I drifted off back in time.

*************************

It was at a freshman mixer at a local pizza parlor at my university. I really didn't want to go, but, my roommate insisted. I stood there nursing down my illicit underage beer when I saw a tall brunette nearby.

She was athletic looking, long muscular legs, pert breasts, and a taut ass. And she was being harassed by some drunken lout. I couldn't hear what he said, but whatever it was earned him a slap across his face. 

Before he could react I intervened and was between them so he could not assault her. That did not deter his rage as he tried to get to her. I managed to remain between them as he jostled me every way he could think of. Finally the bouncers showed up and escorted the guy out.

I turned around and stared right into the loveliest set of green eyes I think I've ever seen. She introduced herself as Denise and I told her I was Mark. We sat and talked for a while then she excused herself and I thought I would never see her again.

A month later I was walking across campus and I heard someone yelling at me. This crazed female dressed in a Raggedy Ann getup with Greek letters emblazed across the bib ran up to me.

"Hi, do you have a condom?"

The stunned look on my face led her to explain that she was pledging a sorority and needed to get a condom from a student on campus to complete her last task before getting accepted.

I could only nod and blush as I opened my wallet and handed her the Trojan I had kept since I was in the 9th grade. She screamed in delight and grabbed it and ran off to her sorority house.

I just watched as that lovely ass disappeared from view.

Another month passed and the campus prepared for Homecoming. I was walking back to my dorm when this person started walking besides me. I looked and tried to recognize where I had seen this girl before.

"Hi, are you ready to rescue me for the third time?"

I responded, "I beg your pardon?"

She stopped and that forced me to stop and she repeated, "Are you ready to rescue me for the third time? You saved me at the pizza parlor and when I needed to pledge my sorority; now, I need you to save me again."

Puzzled, I asked, "How am I suppose to rescue you?"

She explained, "I'm supposed to go to Homecoming with a guy from our brother fraternity, but, the guy is a real jackass. The only way I can get out of going is to have a date with someone else."

I sarcastically said, "Well, that works wonders for my ego! How could I refuse such a gracious offer?"

I don't think she realized that I was putting her on. She told me what sorority house she lived at and what time to be there. I walked off wondering what the hell had just happened. I went back to my room and told my roommate what had transpired.

He urged me to go on the date since otherwise I would just spend the evening like ever other Saturday night studying. He reached in his desk drawer and pulled out a condom and told me I might just get lucky.

In fact I did not get lucky. I did spend the entire date getting acquainted with Denise as we both ignored our inept football team and conversed throughout the game. After we left the stadium we decided to go to a small coffee house to continue our talk.

We were so animated that before we knew it they were closing the place down. We walked back to her house and I stalled trying to decide whether to try for a kiss. Denise decided for me as she told me goodnight and walked away without even a peck on the cheek.

I took that to mean that I didn't really make the grade as I walked back to my room. When I got in, my roommate was gone; I had grown accustomed to not expecting him to appear back before Sunday evening. I laid on my bed and fell asleep thinking of those green eyes.

All next month I tried to call Denise only to be told she was "unavailable." Word got back to me that she had started dating some other fellow. I was sad that I had lost out before I even had a chance to get into the game.

***************************

A clap of thunder shook me out of my reverie of Denise and I went back to the basement and laying down the tiles in the tongue and groove set on the sides of the tiles. I halfway listened to the game and only stopped to go retrieve a new box of tiles.

When I got to the end of the floor I stood and looked at the floor and was pleased as how they complimented the paneling. Not wanting to stop, I nailed down the miter baseboards, and voila, it was finished!

Now, all I had to do was to install the track lighting, and the crown molding and it would be done except for decorating the basement. But that was for another day; today, I would celebrate.

The business week would start in the morning and I would be able to focus solely on making money during those hours; perhaps in the evenings I would complete some piddling little jobs around the house that weren't worthy of wasting a weekend on. Then on Friday the cycle would repeat as I continued to stay busy working on the house.

That Friday, I went to the Home Depot and picked up the rented floor sander and buffer in my work pickup truck. I also purchased enough coarse, medium, and fine grade sandpaper pads to complete both floors of my house. 

Throughout the week I had spent the evenings carefully prying up the molding and base boards through all the rooms. I had catalogued each piece and had already sanded them down. All I would have to do would be to sand down the areas using the sander. Since the baseboard and molding would conceal the area close to the walls I wouldn't have to sand exactly to the walls.

My phone rang and I looked at yet another call from Denise's office. Sporadically through the past week I had received calls from her, so much so, I finally put the number on speed dial so I could instantly recognize it. 

That got me thinking of a Friday phone call a long time ago.

****************************

I was studying when the dorm phone rang. I figured it was for my roommate since he was the only one to get calls, but, he had already left. So I answered and was ready to take a message for him.

"Where the hell are you?" the voice screamed at me.

Taken aback I said, "Who is this?"

"What do you mean, 'Who is this?' This is Denise, now where the hell are you?"

Pissed off, I said, "Well you called me, where the hell do you think I am?"

"Look, just get your ass over here, pronto!"

I debated not going, but, the enticement of seeing her was too persuasive so I wound up at her sorority house. I gave my name and waited. Soon I saw Denise in the hallway apparently arguing with some guy. The conversation was quite animated as she pointed at me which earned a look of loathing from the guy. 

She stormed outside and said, "We got to go!" and started leading me away. 

After a distance I stopped and said, "Can you tell me what the hell this is about?"

She looked angrily at me and said, "That fraternity creep was bothering me again."

"And, how is that my fault?" I asked.

"I needed help!" she yelled.

"Why didn't you call your boyfriend?" I turned and walked away.

I wound up back at the coffee house where we had went on our Homecoming date. She came in and sat down beside me. She started talking and before I knew it I was over being pissed off. Then she told me she wanted to see me, but, with one small caveat. 

"Look, I'm attracted to you, but, I'm not ready to be tied down to one guy. So, I want to date you as well as others and if this is meant to be then we will both know it. Can you handle that?"

I wasn't too thrilled with the idea of sharing her with anyone. Then she leaned over and kissed me and I knew I was a lost soul even then. Some weekends, I was lucky enough to get a date with her and other weekends I would languish back in my room torturing myself with the thoughts of her with someone else. After four months, I finally had sex with her in her car and I was even more smitten. Try as I could to convince her, she still refused to stop dating others. That convoluted merry go round went on for the next two years until one day she came up to me.

"I'm pregnant."

The Earth stood still.

She continued to look at me and said it was mine and I knew what she expected me to do. Mentally, I was screaming inside; I had one more year to get my BA in business then I would go and get my MBA and go collect a large salary. Then I would be in a position to propose to Denise. Now was way too soon.

Denise's plan was to get her degree in history and apply to law school. That meant three more years for her as well.




Covet



Now all of a sudden plans would have to change. We started talking and came up with a solution. We would have a quiet wedding, I would go out to work and support her through law school. When she got a job, she would support me while I got my MBA. Then we would live happily ever after.

That was when the shit hit the fan. I met her mother, also known as, The Evil Bitch Of The North. She screamed at me for ruining her daughter's life from day one and she never let up on me since then. My grandmother, who had raised me also had reservations about the marriage, but, limited it to insisting that her house which I would eventually inherit be protected by a pre nuptial agreement.

Denise was pissed about that, but, my grandmother insisted and she finally signed off on that. We had our quiet shotgun wedding and began living together.

That last year in school was rough with Denise's pregnancy and me trying to support us with any number of odd jobs that came along. I mowed yards, I did small home repairs, I did contract labor, nothing was too low as long as it brought money to the table.

Somehow we made it through with us both graduating. Denise gave birth to our daughter, Susan, and Denise was accepted into law school. Denise's mom flooded her house with graduation pictures and pictures of the baby. I wasn't included in any of them.

I had lucked into a stock brokerage internship which meant I basically did all the shitty jobs that none of the brokers would do. But I persevered from doing cold calls, to going out to get lunch deliveries. By persevering I wound up getting my broker's license and began trading stocks under the supervision of a senior broker; as my expertise grew, so did my salary.

I started to notice despite every promotion we were still unable to save any money as Denise would find new opportunities to spend every dime I got.

Then came her third year school and she announced she was pregnant once again. Eight months later our son, Brian was born. Now I was responsible for caring for a newborn; a three year old toddler; and a wife focusing on law school finals and then taking the bar.

The times were countless that I held my temper as Denise or her mother would gripe about something. Still I knew how important it was for Denise to realize her dream so I sucked it up and continued to try to be her support as she spent time with her study group.

A couple of times I would briefly join them when they went to blow off steam at some bar. I would leave early so I could tend to the babies and allow Denise some "me" time. My goals didn't match the approval of some of the testosterone driven male study partners as they would ridicule me in front of Denise.

I was ready to beat the ever loving shit out of them, but, I knew that would impact negatively on Denise. So I swallowed my pride and pretended that I didn't hear or realize I was the butt of their jokes.

Finally, the day arrived that finals were over and my Denise wound up being number 3 in her class. I felt pride as she marched across the stage at graduation while I held our children. She was glowing as she introduced me to countless classmates and then left me to attend a graduation party. She didn't come home till ten the next morning explaining that she had crashed at her friend's house after she had over imbibed.

I argued with her that she should've called me to pick her up. That led to much yelling which in turn caused our children to start crying. Which meant I spent the next couple of hours calming our children. Then I decided to let it slide since the damage was already done and why upset the children again.

If I thought law school was intense, then studying for the Bar was sheer unadulterated Hell. Denise and her study partners, eat, lived, breathed, the law 24/7 for four months preparing for the three-day ordeal. Again, I did what I could to support her from foot massages to going on midnight ice cream runs. Denise came through in flying colors as she had the top grade on the bar exam.

Denise had no trouble landing a high paying corporate job in Dallas. So we moved and I thought I would start my MBA at SMU. I was quickly informed that I would have to put that idea on hold. Denise argued that we needed to start out with as much money as we could while she worked to make partner in her firm. She said if I could hold off till then she would support me in getting my MBA.

She convinced me it was necessary for us to have a two-income family so we could start our nest egg. So I found a brokerage firm in Dallas and began working for them. I soon found out that Denise subscribed to the Joseph Stalin philosophy that what was hers, was hers. What was mine, was negotiable.

I was responsible for paying the rent, our cars, the household budget, our student loans and every other expense under the sun. Denise was responsible for Denise and every attempt I made to account for her salary resulted in a screaming tirade by her. I never found out where her salary went.

We stayed a decade in Dallas before corporate headquarters transferred Denise to Atlanta. I suggested to Denise that we fix up my grandmother's house that I did inherit after she died. Denise refused that idea claiming the dilapidated house looked like the Addams' family mansion. I explained to her that the Victorian mansion could easily be fixed to her satisfaction for the amount she wanted to spend. I think a lot of it was she still felt insulted by my grandmother's demand for a pre nuptial.

Instead Denise found a house with an expensive price tag and a repressive home owners association. I begged her to reconsider, but, she had her mind made up. So against my wish, I found myself signing paperwork to purchase a house I didn't like; in a neighborhood I didn't like; paying the required dues to a country club I didn't like.

Once again I changed jobs in a brokerage firm where I was low man on the totem pole. I continued to scrap by barely able to cover our expenses from month to month. The friction was causing stress in our marriage as she began to denigrate me in front of the children.

The final straw was when the house started breaking down and the home owners' association insisted on me making expensive repairs that I could not cover. I dreaded going to Denise, but, I was on the razor's edge. My last job review stated I had reached my plateau in earning capacity. In other words I was stuck in my job with no hope of advancement.

I sat down with Denise and once again tried to explain our precarious situation. I showed her my copy of my job review even though it shamed me. Again, she sneered at me declaring her mother had been right about me all along. I sat defeated at the table as she got up and left.

The next day she told me she had a solution. Her company needed someone to go to their Chicago office and run it until further notice. The scuttlebutt was that whoever got the assignment was the favorite to be the next partner in the law firm. She and the children would go stay with her mom; while I remained down here to clean up the mess I made. Even I could manage to do something right if I had a head start. I held back from unleashing on her.

I was sad to see the children weren't overly upset with the notion that we would be separated from me. Mostly, they seemed excited on the prospect of moving to Chicago to be spoiled by their grandmother. For me the departure at the airport broke my heart, but, the three of them were eager to leave.

I went back home and cried.

The next day I made an appointment with the home owners' association board to discuss my plan to repair the house to their standards. They rejected my plan outright and placed a series of draconian terms I would be forced to comply with. I would have to sacrifice to make everything work.

Even with the temporary relief from my family leaving I was still just managing to tread water financially. I began with the simple jobs that didn't take much knowledge or skills and completed them first then I would start on the more complex jobs.

It seemed for every job I completed, two new ones would erupt and I began to despise the money pit I lived in. I could only occasionally get my family on the phone and when I did they would terminate the call as quickly as they could.

I began to drink heavily.

That was frowned upon at my office, but, by this time I didn't give a damn. The months passed by until the winter holidays got close. I called to ask Denise to come home so I could be with my family. She told me that wasn't possible due to her work schedule. Then I suggested my flying up there; she told me, my priority was to fix the house, not spend money for a vacation. Besides, Denise intimated that her family would be away for Thanksgiving so there was no need to come up. She handed the phone off to Susan who told me that the family was gathering at her grandmother's and she was so excited to see her cousins. Then Brian got on the phone and told me that his uncle was taking him to the Bears' game at Soldier Field on Thanksgiving.

Something wasn't adding up and I finally had my fill of the situation. I decided that I would go to Chicago.

I certainly found the answers to questions I never thought of before. Such as how easily I was replaced. The worst answer was when Susan turned eighteen. I had tried in vain to contact her and Brian after my trip to Chicago a number of times leaving countless voice messages begging them to call me. They never did return my calls.

Two weeks after Susan's birthday I got a large manila envelope in the mail. Susan had filed in Cook County to change her name from Susan Ann Mallon to Susan Ann Starling. Her reasoning was she wanted the name of her biological father, Paul L. Starling. Attached were affidavits from Susan Mallon and Paul Starling which alleged they had began an intimate relationship in college through law school which resulted in the birth of their daughter. This was confirmed by the notarized DNA results from three reputable labs. Included was the file stamped copy of the judge's order granting the name change.

Right then I knew that when Brian turned eighteen I would get a similar surprise. 

Then I got the call from Denise. She asked if I had received a package in the mail and I told her I had. She explained that copy was supposed to go to her mother but due to a secretary's mistake it had been addressed to me. She assured me that the secretary had been terminated for making the mistake.

"No Denise, I'm the one that been making mistakes. The problem is I've been making them for more than twenty years." I hung up the phone and soon after that I got served the divorce papers. Despite her having the higher paying job, she insisted that I was not entitled to an equitable division of the marital assets. What was hers was hers and what was mine was mine. Except for that money pit called a house. Even though she never paid a penny on the house; she expected to get 50% of that asset when it was sold. In other words, I would be out $400,000 dollars. I wonder how she reacted when she immediately received back the draconian property settlement agreement with my signature attached with no protest. 

***************

I took time to refocus on the floors and realized that I went on auto pilot and the floors were sanded and buffed and ready for staining and varnishing. I was proud of the progress that I was making and tomorrow would see the stain job completed and mid week I would start adding the several coats of varnish to protect the stain. The stain I had selected would look good against the different hues of pastel that I painted the various rooms.

I twisted off the cap of the first longneck of the day and wandered around all the rooms discovering minor things that still needed to be addressed, but, all were simple things that could be done easily. What I needed was another big project to take up time and I continued to look around weighing options.

I found myself out on the master bedroom balcony looking out at the sprawling back yard. Suddenly it came to me; a large swimming pool with an adjoining hot tub, perhaps a poolhouse. I smiled at the research I would have to do and what permits I would have to apply for. With any luck the backyard project would take the entire summer.

I visualized different sizes and styles of pools and guessed at the prospective costs of the project. Soon I started hearing the sound of a tortured motor and people yelling. Since they weren't visible from the back I went to a bedroom facing the front street.

I looked down to see a large U-haul rental truck with a U-haul trailer attached to it trying to back into the drive of the house next door. The driver was having a hard time trying to figure out what to do and had gotten the trailer jack-knifed into the rain sodden yard and now they were just spinning the wheels deeper into the lawn.

I hurried outside and tapped on the driver's window startling the driver. She turned and looked at me in surprise. Even as harried as she was trying to correct her problem and dealing with two young children in the passenger seat yelling she was knock down gorgeous. And she was crying.

I asked her if she needed help and the look of relief warmed my heart as she tearfully nodded. I opened the door and gave her my umbrella. She scurried over to the passengers' door and unbuckled the children and led them to the cover provided by the front porch.

I got into the driver seat and straightened out the wheels and put it into low gear. I eased on the gas pedal so the rear wheels wouldn't spin and slowly inched forward to get out of the rut she had dug. To do that I had to track up more of her front yard, but, it was the easiest solution. Soon I had the truck and trailer back on the street ready for another attempt.

Most people have never had to drive a vehicle hauling a trailer. The secret to reversing with a trailer is you have to turn opposite the way you would normally reverse. So slowly, I negotiated the trailer up the drive until both the trailer and truck were in the drive ready to be unloaded. I turned off the vehicle and ran hunched over from the rain onto the porch. The kids were applauding and a big grin was now on the blonde angel. I decided then and there, that I enjoyed her more grinning than crying.

"Here's the keys." I handed over to her and placed them in her small palm.

"Thank you so much for helping us! I don't know what I was going to do!"

Damn, she even had the sweetest Southern drawl possible.

"Always glad to help out a neighbor, I'm Mark Mallon....I'm assuming you are my new neighbors?" 

"Oh, forgive my rudeness! I'm Jeannie Harris and these two monsters are Kay and Billy!" 

The description brought on a stream of protest from the children and they ran to clutch their mother to make her stop. I grinned at the shenanigans as the crisis was now passed and all could relax.

I told her, "I hope you have help coming to unload because I could tell the truck and trailer are really weighed down."

A look of sadness came on her face, "No, I had help loading, but, it is just going to be us three unloading."

"Here, let me help and if it gets too bad I can call some people over."

I was rewarded with another look of gratitude as she profusely thanked me. I suggested I would do what unloading I could by myself and then we would figure out things. The three disappeared into their house. 

Cries of disappointment erupted from the house immediately. I went inside to the darkened room. Jeannie was upset as she told me the power was supposed to be on. I told her to hold on and went outside to call a buddy that worked for the power company. I told him the address and he said he remembered he had caught that particular job for installing the meter, but, no one was home, so under company policy he had left. He was scheduled to return Monday afternoon to try again.

"Well, they're here now and it is a lady with two small kids and you owe me some favors. So get over here, install the meter, and then get creative with the paperwork." He agreed to come out and I hung up and walked to Jeannie and told her the power would be on soon. She thanked me and again the kids burst into applause.

With that I unlocked the trailer and began hauling boxes into what area was dimly lit by the rainy daylight atmosphere of the front room. Jeannie helped carry the smaller, lighter boxes into the house as the two children watched from the porch.

They were so cute as they argued over who would get to sleep in their room first. Jeannie just gave me a sardonic grin as she noticed me observing the children. I reminded her to leave the heavy boxes to me as I took a large box from her and carried it to the stack of boxes inside.

Just as we were finishing unloading the trailer, my friend John drove up in his company utility truck. In a few minutes lights came on throughout the house. This energized the kids as they began to run from room to room exploring. John went back to his truck to get the paperwork for Jeannie to sign.

"So Mark, you got everything unloaded?" 

I replied, "John, we're still working on the trailer and hadn't started on the truck yet."

Without saying anything else, John walked to the trailer and picked up a box and started carrying it inside. That gave me the idea to make several calls and I told Jeannie and John to take a break. We sat there getting acquainted, and Jeannie told us that she was an elementary school teacher. Before I could get around to asking her how she could afford a house in the neighborhood, the calvary arrived.

Friends with wives and kids started arriving bringing pizzas, beer for the adults, and sodas for the kids, but, most important they brought strong backs. A whirlwind of activity ensued as the truck got unloaded. My friends' wives were given a tour of the house, an army of kids were chasing each other throughout the house and decorating strategy was discussed nonstop. Boxes were opened and contents taken to the proper rooms. Furniture was unloaded and bedroom sets were assembled in the proper rooms. Then the living room was decorated to signal the end of the unloading of the truck.

Then it was a matter of just relaxing and enjoying a visit with friends. I was impressed how easily Jeannie adapted to hosting an impromptu party of people she just met. Then I realized that her warm manners was quickly making her friends as phone numbers were shared and lunch dates were made among all the women.

John leaned toward me and nudged me with his beer bottle and whispered, "You know, the common denominator between all these ladies is you. Get ready for your ears to be burning."

I laughed and then told him about my idea for a pool. We started throwing out ideas and more of the guys started chiming in opinions. So there I was with the guys talking and Jeannie talking to the girls and every now and then, we would steal a glance at each other and smile.

Slowly, the party broke up and all the guests had left. Jeannie allowed me to carry the slumbering kids upstairs to their beds and she tucked them in and kissed her sleeping angels goodnight.

Wordlessly, we went downstairs and then outside to sit on the front steps. I offered her a beer and she shook her head no, so I twisted the cap off the icy longneck and took a deep swallow. We continued just to sit relaxing.

"Mark, you are my hero. Thank you so much for all you've done for us."

"Jeannie, I'm just being neighborly, there's no need to thank me."

"Nonsense," she insisted, "If it wasn't for you, I'd still be stuck in my frontyard with two crying kids in a house without power. I owe you big time, mister!"

I laughed and said, "Wait till you get to know me." and I took another swig. "Speaking of the truck, what are you going to do with that?"




Covet



An anguished look appeared on Jeannie's face and she related the horror story of driving cross country in the truck. How she had countless irate drivers honk at her when she was forced to stop for gas, food, or potty breaks. Her unfamiliarity with driving a truck had caused a number of traffic jams at gas stations, fast food places, and motels. Usually she would suffer humiliations and profanities hurled at her until somehow she would solve her dilemma. 

"And now I have to return the truck cross country!" she cried as she explained the U-haul store insisted she return the truck to their location.

I placed my hand on her shoulder and placated her. "Jeannie, I'll take care of taking the truck back to them."

She looked at me in shock, "Mark, I can't let you do that!"

"Jeannie, you can't subject your kids to another trip like that! I can take care of this. Don't worry about the truck; it's not like I'm going to steal it and you know where I live."

She continued to argue for another couple of hours until my logic finally won out and she gave me all the rental papers. She asked when I would start to leave on my trip. I told her it would be around nine a.m. She said if I was leaving that early maybe we ought to call it a night. As we stood up she gave me an impulsive hug and kissed me on the cheek goodnight. She was inside before I could even react. I had a warm glow as I walked home.

The next morning I knocked on Jeannie's door, as she opened it, I was beset with twin typhoons hugging my legs, calling me Mr. Mark. I laughed and picked them both up and carried them inside. Jeannie nervously handed me the keys and an envelope full of $20 dollar bills. She explained it was for gas money and a bus ticket to get back home.

"Mark, please be careful!" she told me as I fired up the truck and backed the trailer and truck down the drive. "When will you be back?" she asked.

I smiled, "Sooner than you think."

I drove toward the interstate and right before I got to the on ramp, I turned into the local U-haul store. I walked inside and saw the person I wanted to deal with. "Hi Mark, what's up?" as the store manager shook my hand.

"Hi Perry, I'm returning a truck for a friend." 

I handed him the paperwork and he studied it. "Mark, this says this was supposed to be a roundtrip rental. The truck and trailer are due to be back there."

"Well Perry, things have changed and this needs to be a one-way rental and I'll pay whatever extra is due for changing the terms."

"Okay, let me clear this with the originating store."

While I waited, I noticed Perry engaged in an escalating conversation with the party on the other end, finally, he yelled he would damn well accept delivery of the trailer and truck and slammed the phone down.

As he walked to me he said, "Not a word from you, Mark!"

I just smiled and handed him the keys as he inspected the truck and then a credit card to cover the change from a roundtrip rental to a one way. He handed me a receipt and I violated his order and thanked him. Then I went outside and called a taxi.

Thirty minutes later found me getting out of the cab in front of my house. As luck would have it Kay and Billy were playing outside once they saw me, cries of "Mr. Mark!" filled the air. A grimy Jeannie came outside to investigate her eyes widened in surprise to see me.

"What happened? Please don't tell me you had an accident!"

I laughed and told her I was back from dropping off the truck and trailer at the local U-haul store.

She frowned, "But, back home they told me when I rented the truck, I had to contract it for a roundtrip; they weren't going to let me have it unless I returned it."

"Jeannie, when I talked to the local U-Haul manager, he called them and explained the change in circumstances and got them to agree to allow him to accept the delivery of the truck." 

Okay, it was a lie, but, it didn't hurt anyone except the jackasses that rented the truck and it solved a problem. At any rate, Jeannie smiled as I gave her the receipt which signified the transaction was complete.

"Looks like you're having fun" as I indicated the dirty garb she had on. She told me that she was underestimating the complexities the house was presenting. I told her if it got too bad to come over and get me and I'd help her out. I then gave back to her the envelope of cash she had given me that morning and walked back to my house.

Despite losing half the morning, I soon had the entire second floor stain applied and started on the first floor. The therapeutic release that activity gave me was now being counterbalanced by thinking of the enticing blonde next door. I realized that I was humming as I applied the stain. It had been a long time since I ever felt like humming.

A knock on the door brought an end to my humming and I opened the door to an anxious Jeannie.

"I have a plumbing emergency! There's water leaking under my toilet. Can you help me?"

"Let me grab some tools and I'll be right over, Jeannie."

I quickly gathered up all the tools I suspected I would need and went next door. Kay and Billy were waiting for me at the door and shouted the arrival of Mr. Mark to the world. They led me upstairs to the master bedroom where I found Jeannie in the bathroom wiping up water furiously with a towel and handwringing it into the sink.

Setting my tools down, I knelt down and turned the water off at the valve. I then flushed the commode to empty the tank and bowl. That brought another flood of water to leak out of the toilet. I told Jeannie that I would handle it from here. She moved away and tried to remove the bra and panties hanging from the shower rod without me noticing. I pretended not to see her doing it as she walked behind me and stood in the doorway.

From practice, I quickly had the tank disconnected from the waterline and removed from the bowl. Then the bowl was off and as I suspected the wax ring had failed. I removed the remnants of the old wax ring and replaced it with a spare ring I had from my own renovations. All the while I was explaining what I was doing to Jeannie.

I caulked around the lip of the bottom of the bowl and carefully placed the bowl on top of the flange. I pressed down on the bowl and told Jeannie to come sit down on the toilet lid. She giggled as I told her that her weight would assure that the wax ring would seal properly. As I moved around her screwing the bolts to the flange screws, I got the crazy idea of just prying open her long shapely legs and burying my head in her blue jeans clad muff.

Even after I was sure the ring had sealed, I kept her sitting there despite the awkward positions I had to undergo. Finally, I had to tell her to get up so I could reattach the tank. Soon it was bolted on and I turned the water back on and did a test flush. There was no rush of water this time and Jeannie gave a yell of victory.

I then finished with another bead of caulking around the bottom of the bowl. After that it was just a matter of mopping and cleaning up. She moved to hug me but I indicated my sodden clothes. 

"Well, let me wash them!" she cried.

I reminded her I would be running around naked and she blushed. She said she would like to treat me to a meal; but, without her car she hadn't had a chance to shop for groceries; she and the kids would be surviving on delivery establishments. I told her, if she liked, I would go home and shower and take them out for supper. She was concerned that they were imposing on me too much. I told her not to think any such thing and I would be there at six pm to take them out,

Come six pm, I pulled in their garage and they came out to the car. Jeannie expressed surprise that I had gone and bought two children booster seats for Kay and Billy. We got the kids situated and I took them to a nice Italian restaurant. I continued to get acquainted with my new neighbors as Kay and Billy took turns telling me things.

Jeannie just sat and smiled as her two darlings continued to ingrain themselves into my heart. A couple of times they divulged some personal information which caused Jeannie to blush and quickly steer the conversation into another direction. After the meal I took them for ice cream at a place that had a children's play area.

We watched as they romped with the other kids playing. The sheer look of love on Jeannie's face as she watched her children was the look that artists have tried to capture since the dawn of civilization. She noticed my staring at her and diverted her attention back to me.

"So, you like me, Jeannie Harris!" I teased her.

She immediately blushed, "My God, I wanted to sink in the earth when Kay blurted that out!"

From that point, our conversation segued into a number of topics, including why Jeannie didn't have her car. She explained, her brother, who was an engineer, would be returning from duty overseas and he would be driving her car to them. Until then they would be renting a car starting tomorrow.

"Nonsense, just borrow mine," I said, "I rarely drive it anyway since I'm usually in my truck." And again, we argued until I finally convinced her that by borrowing my car was the cheapest, expedient solution to her problem. 

When we started home the kids drifted to sleep almost immediately worn out from their exertions. On the way I pointed out the various controls and features of the car to Jeannie as she quietly took it all in. I parked in her drive and gathered Kay in my arms as Jeannie unlocked the house. I put her on the bed and Jeannie went to tucking her in.

I went and got Billy and Jeannie was waiting as I put him to bed. Once again she fussed over him and I realized that I missed that part of raising a family. The sadness must have been showing because Jeannie had a worried look on her face as she looked at me. I tried to assure her that I was okay; but, I think she knew different. As I placed my car keys in her hand, she gently touched my cheek with her other hand and raising up on tiptoes gave me a soft goodnight kiss.

I couldn't be sure, but, I think I levitated all the way back to my home.

Monday, found me back at my job but I couldn't concentrate because of thinking of Jeannie. I turned off my computer and began doing any number of oddjobs around the house including finishing the staining of the first floor.

So in that way it was a good day as the number of house projects continued to dwindle. It wasn't that I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, but, I was quickly approaching the tunnel, nonetheless. I heard voices calling for Mr. Mark before the knock on the door. I grinned as I opened the door.

"Mr. Mark, come eat with us!" the two kids chimed as Jeannie invited me to partake of their first home cooked meal. I asked for 15 minutes for a quick shower and she said they would be waiting.

When I arrived, the dining room table was filled with fried chicken, southern fried potatoes, biscuits and gravy, corn, and black-eyed peas. The scent of a warm apple pie also announced its presence. Both kids argued they wanted to sit by me and Jeannie said the only way to solve that was for me to sit at the head of the table. The kids sat on either side of me and Jeannie sat opposite me.

The kids said grace and then we all buried ourselves in the meal. I stuffed myself with the fabulous food and groaned as a slice of apple pie a la mode appeared before me, Somehow, I finished off every delicious morsel and then I was drafted to play a number of children games for the rest of the evening.

Nine p.m. came and the children trudged off to bed with Jeannie following them. Halfway up, she stopped and invited me upstairs. I went up and read a bedtime story to Billy; while Jeannie did the same for Kay. As they slept, we sneaked downstairs and Jeannie put on a pot of coffee. As it brewed, we both began to clean up from the meal and soon had everything in order.

She poured a large ceramic mug full for me and asked how I took it. When I told her black; she wrinkled her nose as she poured cream into hers. She handed me the mug and we walked outside to the porch swing. It was an unseasonably agreeable November night as we sipped the steaming coffee.

We started talking about Kay and Billy and before I knew it I was telling her about Susan and Brian. Then the floodgates spilled open as I told her about the flaming wreck my family and my life was. When I finished, Jeannie's eyes pooled with tears of sympathy for me and she placed her head on my torso and began consoling me. It was pleasant to have someone that had empathy for what I had been going through.

Then in a quiet soft voice she told me what brought her and the children cross country. She had lived the ideal childhood; was the homecoming queen and married her childhood boyfriend. They went off to college and got their degrees and then began to raise their family.

Somewhere along the line the train had run off the tracks. They began to argue mostly about his flirtations with other women. The flirtations escalated to full-blown affairs and the arguments became physical. Luckily, the children were too young to understand the drama that was unfolding.

The "D" word figured more and more into Jeannie and her husband's conversations when they were talking to one another. Then came the fateful call one night from the police. A young woman driver had been killed in a one car accident. Thrown out of the wreckage was her deceased husband. From all indications, they were involved in a sexual act at the time of the accident.

From that point was the hellish existence of dealing with the situation. Hers blamed Jeannie; the dead girl's family blamed Jeannie and to a certain point; Jeannie blamed Jeannie. The estate slowly moved through probate as the in-laws legal maneuvers continued to eat into her late husband's assets. 

Then, the family of the dead girl filed a lawsuit and Jeannie was forced to counter sue. Somehow she waded through the gauntlet and when all the dust was settled she decided for a clean break. She had researched all regions of the country to relocate and karma had led her to my neighborhood.

She had used all her money to purchase her house and now all she had left was the promise of a job in the school district and an underperforming hedge fund account that she would be forced to dip into to cover her expenditures until she started her job. One thing she hadn't counted on were the house repairs that needed to be done, that was also eating away at her savings. Through it all, she still had no regrets for moving here.

We sat there silently contemplating as the swing slowly swept back and forth. Then I told her I wanted to look at her hedge fund account. I told her I was sure that I could get her stock portfolio back onto a successful track. She got up and went inside the house, a few minutes later, she returned carrying a file. I took the papers and told her I would look at them overnight. She told me to keep them and bring them back over tomorrow night when we sat down for supper. Then she gave me another goodnight kiss.

As soon as I got home I started studying her hedge fund account and became aware of all the unethical ways the manager used to enrich himself. Not only was he a crook; but, he was an incompetent one based on his selection of stocks to invest in. I had no doubt that I could effect a 30% positive change in her account in the first year alone. I began to redline things to point out to Jeannie tomorrow and went to bed still thinking about her kiss.

Suppertime found me at Jeannie's for another tasty meal, followed by more children games and bedtime readings. This time I read Kay to sleep and tucked her in and told her goodnight.

The night was colder and precluded being outside and I would need the use of the table anyway to spread out my analysis, spreadsheets and projections for Jeannie. I had it all laid out as she came downstairs and made another pot of coffee.

She asked me what I found out. I told her that she was being cheated and that I could help her. As I began to explain in detail, she started walking into the den. I asked her what was wrong. She replied nothing was wrong. That she trusted me and therefore there was no reason for me to explain things. Now she wanted me to come into the den and relax. I followed her in and we sat and talked into the night as the fire died out in the fireplace.

I realized despite the age difference that in the short time I knew Jeannie I was so much more comfortable with her than I had been with Denise as we kissed goodnight. I left with her signature to authorize me taking over her stock account and a standing invitation to supper. 

As soon as I woke up I began to get Jeannie's financial situation stabilized. I called her former broker and told him that he was fired and I was now handling the account. He started getting disagreeable until I mentioned that perhaps I needed to make a call to the SEC. Those magic words brought an entire change in attitude and I got him to agree to reimburse Jeannie every fee he had charged on her account to the tune of $5,000. Within minutes, I had an electronic confirmation of the change in her account. Not bad, for ten minutes of work.

I then began to restructure her portfolio; dumping some real loser stocks and reinvesting into some blue chips stocks. The remainder I put into aggressive, volatile stocks which would require constant monitoring, but handled properly would give her a great return. Even better, I would not be charging her a broker fee on any of the transactions. By the end of the day's trading I was pleased by what I performed.

I went next door for supper with a happy heart. When I began to broach the subject to Jeannie, she stopped me and told me she trusted me and I needn't worry about giving a daily account. So I continued trading on her account and getting to see her every night.

Weekends were now spent showing her and the kids around the city instead of home projects. Well, that wasn't entirely correct, I was helping Jeannie at her house. Her house was in the same state of disrepair as mine had been in once I started. So my expertise came in handy as we would discuss a problem; I would offer a number of solutions; and Jeannie would decide.

Jeannie also decided at what pace our relationship progressed. Our good night kiss soon became make out sessions once the kids were asleep. She only allowed me to get to second base, because she felt uncomfortable doing anything while the kids were asleep upstairs. But just to hold that wonderful body next to mine was enough for me even if I went home every night with blue balls.

Then, Jeannie's brother, Ray and his family arrived with her car. We grilled steaks as he and I got acquainted. I could tell Jeannie would be asking him what he thought of me and I wanted it to be an honest opinion, so I didn't try any pretense with him.

"Ray, I'm just going to put this out there for you. I'm in love with Jeannie, and I intend to marry her whenever she is ready. She is the best thing that ever happened to me and I treasure every moment I'm with her. I know she values your opinion and I realize we just met and you don't know me that well yet. But, give me time and I'll prove to you how much I care for her."

"Mark, I know from the first day you met that you have been there for Jeannie and the kids. She cares very much for you and I think the two of you belong together. But, understand if you ever hurt her like that son of a bitch did, then you and I will be having a very unpleasant meeting."

With that we clicked beer bottles and brought the steaks inside. After the meal, Billy and Kay took their cousins upstairs as Jeannie and I talked with Ray and his wife. Our talk got to the point where Ray and Jeannie began talking about embarrassing moments from their childhood. Jeannie would scream in jovial protest as Ray continued all night.




Covet



Finally, Ray looked at his wife and said, "Honey, let's get the children to bed and then get to sleep in Jeannie's room." With that implication hanging in the air we all said our goodnights. Without a word, Jeannie and I held hands as we walked into my house to my bedroom.

With only the pale moonlight cascading in I slowly undressed Jeannie taking time to kiss every portion of bare flesh that was exposed. I reached around and unclasped her bra and for the first time saw her pendulous breast. The large tits defying gravity stood proudly for my inspection. The large pinkish brown areolas accented her pencil eraser size nipples. I cupped her tits and moved to lick, kiss and nibble on her taut nipples. Jeannie's hands ran through my hair encouraging me in my discovery. I want to stay there forever, but, I was also eager to continue.

I moved southward, kissing her ribcage, her abdomen, her navel and still I trailed down. I slowly eased her panties off and they dropped to her feet. The plush tawny bush was glistening in anticipation as I knelt before my goddess paying homage. I moved to her ankles, kissing and gnawing, as my hands traced her calf muscles where my tongue traced a long trail up to her knees.

Then, to kiss and nibble behind her knees, her body shook as I discovered this erogenous zone. Upward to her firm thighs kissing and biting into her pliant flesh. I moved to her crotch and the pungent enticing aroma wafted into my nostrils as I lightly kissed all around, but never directly onto her pussy. Her clitoris appeared out from under the folds of her pussy lips.

Jeannie's moans of anticipation were simultaneous with her attempts to guide my mouth onto her eager pussy. Still I held her back to build up the excitement.

"Oh please Mark!" she begged, "No one has ever kissed me there!"

The knowledge that I would be the first to eat her pussy thrilled me, but, I had to will myself to continue my slow systematic seduction. Still I rained kisses all around, lightly rubbing her. She began thrusting her pelvis in response to each contact signaling her desire that I keep in contact with her.

I continued to torment her as she begged that I end her suffering and when she least expected it; I moved my mouth directly on her pussy and slid my tongue deep into her warm velvet folds. I powerfully sucked her as my tongue danced around and I heard her scream of delight and her body shook in the electrical pleasure it was experiencing. My hands were firmly gripping her buttocks to ensure she would not escape my lavishing attention.

I needn't have worried as her hands gripped my hair to force my head ever deeper into her muff. Hurried sobs of pleasure emanated from her as I licked and sucked away. I could sense the throbbing of her clit and I moved my attention up and lightly biting on it in place, I began flicking my tongue at the very tip of her clit.

Jeannie exploded into an orgasm as she collapsed to the floor screaming my name. Her powerful thighs had my face in a death clinch as I lapped up her juices gushing from her. One after another, the tremors continued to shake her body as I continued to minister to her.

Only after she was still, did I move up to be rewarded with countless kisses. I moved my hand to cup her tit as I returned kiss for kiss. I could feel the heat radiating from her body as I picked her up and put her on my bed.

As I undressed I saw her eyes eagerly enjoying my body until her jaw dropped in astonishment when I dropped my shorts off. Jeannie knew that I was well endowed from our make out sessions, but, this was the first time she had seen my dick. My blood gorged 8 inch pole swung as I crawled into bed and Jeannie quickly grabbed and squeezed it tight.

"My God, you are so much bigger than Richard!" she marveled, "I don't know if I can fit that in my poor little pussy!"

She bent over to start sucking on her newly found toy. She sucked in about 4 inches and had to stop. She said, "I could deepthroat Richard without any problem, now, I'm worried that I'll never be able to satisfy you!"

I quickly began kissing her and told her that just by loving me was all the satisfaction I needed. She renewed her efforts and even though she couldn't take me lengthwise, she thrilled me with her harmonica technique. I groaned as I got closer to a climax. She redoubled her efforts stroking my hard pole with her hand and sucking the bulb of my dick in her mouth.

I told her I was getting close to warn her and she continued saying she wanted my cum and began to fondle my balls. Then I exploded into her mouth; first, one stream of thick potent creamy sperm filled her mouth, which she eagerly devoured. Then a second and a third. Then came a fourth, and a fifth. 

She moved next to me and we started kissing again. Within a few minutes, it was evident that I was ready to go again. Jeannie couldn't believe it, saying Richard was only good for one time a night; even when they were on their honeymoon. I rolled on top of her to remind her in so many ways how I was different from Richard.

I slowly slid my cock into her allowing her to adjust to my girth. Each expression of discomfort would give way to a look of pleasure and she would urge me onward. The hot moist sensation of sliding slowly into her pussy was exquisite. 

As I moved ever so deeper Jeannie responded with oohs and ahhs as she slid her body against mine. Finally, I was buried deep in her vagina trapping her to the bed as she looked up at me in awe and lust as she squirmed against me.

Slowly and patiently, I began to rock forward heating the friction against our bodies. Jeannie gasped as I felt her pussy muscles clinch in protest everytime my penis withdrew from her and relaxed in invitation of each welcomed thrust. Her legs cradled my body and then she locked her legs around me as I continued my onslaught.

I continued to kiss her as we fucked ourselves into oblivion. We had no regards to time, but our exertions soon had us both sheathed in sweat as we sought to gratify one another. Our bodies instinctively adjusted as we paced ourselves to climax.

Before long, hurried moans came from Jeannie signaling an urgency building within her. Then pleas from her, begging me, drove me harder to satisfy my woman. Her look of need and desire continued as our pace quickened. I could feel my load building as my balls slapped against her ass.

"Oh my God, Mark! Fuck me!" she wailed as she approached her orgasm. I began to powerdrive her body. Slamming against her time after relentless time as her legs kicked aimlessly in the air as she arrived in her moment of pleasure. Her fingernails raked my back as she bucked against me.

In response, I came deep inside her as my sperm drove deep into her womb. When I finished ejaculating multiple times, I heard her sobs of appreciations as she kissed me countless times. I rolled to her side and then moved her atop me so my weight wouldn't discomfort her. I sensed our combined body fluids slowly seeping against me in a cooling sensation.

I gently massaged her as I returned kiss for kiss as we recovered. We continued to quietly explore each other as the night ticked away. I can only explain how enthralled I was by her beauty to justify my next erection. This time, I had Jeannie ride me cowboy style and she set her own pace as she grinded against me. My hands reached out and captured her big tits swinging in momentum. She groaned at first as I pinched the swollen and excited nipples and then she leaned forward to offer her tits to my mouth. I eagerly sucked first one then the other as she drove us to our next climax. This time it came soft and gentle as I lavished attention on Jeannie.

I have no idea how long we continued to caress each other in the afterglow; but soon, we came to the mutual discovery that our physical efforts had gotten us both hungry as we laughed and rose from the bed. I put on my shorts and reached for my T shirt when Jeannie told me that was what she was wearing. I was ready to ravish her again as she draped her new found gown impishly on her body and we went downstairs.

As we raided the refrigerator I was pleased to see that our conversation was relaxed and easy as we made our transition from neighbors to friends to lovers. Every glimpse I caught of her at the kitchen table had me desiring her more. She was sitting with her bare feet propped against the edge of the seat, still draped in just my T shirt.

As I put the plates away in the kitchen sink, I told her I was still hungry. She appeared puzzled until I dropped on my knees in front of her. With a big mischievous grin, she opened her legs, inviting me in.

I sucked in her pussy lips and gently nibbled on them savoring the taste of my late night snack. She sighed as she used her hands to guide me where she wanted attention. Then I listened as she gave commands on what she found pleasing. I filed away in my memory what she liked for future reference. It didn't take long before her pussy juice flooded my face. I licked up every delightful morsel and brought myself up to her.

She rewarded me by licking my face clean and kissing me in appreciation. I gathered her in my arms and carried her upstairs. I placed her on my bed again as I looked in amazement at my woman. At that moment I realized I would do anything for her; I would protect her with all my might and I would not allow anything or anyone to come between us.

It was that moment of serendipity that made me realize the difference in Denise and Jeannie. My time for mourning the past and working nonstop was over. Now was the time to start living again. I cradled against Jeannie and she placed my arm over her to protect her against the night. The warmth from her buttocks comforted my semi erect cock and I think we both knew we would be in a delightful wakeup in the morning. I kissed her goodnight and soon we slept.

**************************

Months passed by until one afternoon the front doorbell rang. Much to my surprise, there stood Denise and her lover, Paul Starling, with Susan and Brian in tow. I suppose I should've expected it since word had gotten to me that they were back in town. Denise said she had a proposition for me and asked if we could talk.

I closed the door behind me and waited. I think it unsettled them that I did not invite them inside. I waited for someone to speak since I had nothing to say to them. Denise recovered from my rudeness and began speaking.

She told me that she had handled our entire situation all wrong and she wanted to make amends. It turned out that Paul was the fraternity boy that her sorority had set her up with all those years ago. We had been rivals even though we had never met. Denise had continued seeing him and that it had been a fifty-fifty proposition that either of us had impregnated her. Denise had chosen me and expected to live her life with me.

Then school, much to her surprise, Paul was one of her classmates. He continued to pursue her and she resisted as long as she could, but, finally she succumbed to his charm again as they rekindled their affair. When Denise graduated and we had moved to Dallas, she had expected that to be the end of it.

After our move to Atlanta and her transfer to Chicago, she had discovered Paul working at another firm. One thing led to another and she once again was in his arms. At his insistence, she had the kids tested and they both came back to being Paul's progeny. Surely, I could understand the kids' desires to be reunited with their biological father.

I continued to hold my temper and biting my tongue as Denise continued.

Since, I had hit a wall career-wise; it was incumbent on Denise to do what was best for the family and that meant divorcing me and to get as much as she could for her children. That was why she had insisted on half the proceeds from the marital house, even though I had made all the payments.

Now to the crux of the matter; the family was moving back to Atlanta in anticipation of her upcoming promotion to partnership. Word had spread as far as Chicago as to the recent gentrification of my grandmother's old neighborhood. Everyone was seeking to buy and restore all the old mansions to their former glory.

Denise knew that I was unemployed from the brokerage firm since the divorce and could not afford to give my grandmother's house the attention it needed. She proposed that she would sign over the marital home to me and to pay off the mortgage, in addition, she had a cashier check in the amount of $100,000 dollars. All I had to do was to sign over the deed to my grandmother's house and I would be even with her.

I continued to stare at her as she brandished the check, slowly her arm came down as I continued to remain quiet. I softly invited them to come inside and I thought I saw traces of victory smiles on all their faces.

As they entered, I was pleased to hear the surprised gasps as they looked at the foyer, lit by the large crystal chandelier. I began to explain in detail, what efforts I had undertaken to bring the entrance way back to its glory. From there, I led them into the drawing room, where the exquisite details of the room were matched by the expensive tasteful furniture. I continued to lecture them on my efforts of each room as they looked in amazement to the rich transition of my home. The conservatory drew gasps from Susan as she saw the Steinway grand piano featured in the room. She had always expressed an interest in music and the best I could afford her as a child was an electric keyboard. She sadly traced her fingers alongside it as we went to the next room.

Then we went upstairs to the large comfortable bedrooms, ending up in the master bedroom with the warm natural light bathing it glory; the master's bath, including a walk in shower with multiple shower heads and the large re-enameled clawfoot bathtub gilded in gold-leaf. I led them out the balcony, overlooking the Olympic-size pool, complete with a poolhouse and a hottub on the patio deck.

I continued to lead them through each room until finally we wound up in my study. I explained about the mahogany paneling and my efforts to find the suitable furnishings to compliment the decor. I pointed out all the expensive first editions books lined in the built in bookcases as my pet Golden Retriever, Butters padded up to me and sat by me on my sofa.

Denise looked on in distaste as she had always hated dogs. As you could imagine, I didn't really care what she liked anymore.

"Now, having taken the tour, do you really think I would be interested in moving back into that hellhole that only caused me misery?"

Before anyone could answer, two whirlwinds came and launched themselves into my lap.

"Daddy, we're back from the quarium!" Billy shouted.

"That's A-quarium!" Kay corrected him.

Billy lost no steam as he and then Kay began describing their trip to the Atlanta Aquarium. They went on describing what they saw and then Billy told me, "But, Daddy our quarium is better!" To which Kay agreed that our basement wall aquarium that I built for them was much better.

Denise had been startled and surprised at the interruption. I gave her no explanation as Jeannie waddled in seven months pregnant.

"Oh Honey, I didn't know you had guests!"

I quickly went to her side and asked how she felt as I guided her into a chair. I was rewarded with a gratifying smile as she kissed me.

I announced, "They aren't guests and they're just leaving."

I led them outside and told them to never come back. As they drove off I knew they had a million questions and they would never find out the answer to any of them.

Like, how I immediately moved out of the house after I had gotten back from Chicago back into my grandmother's house. Once I had gotten in there, I realized the quality structure of the house was still sound and I could restore it by myself for the most part. Eventually it turned into part of my therapy.

The other part of my therapy was at work. After all the years at the brokerage firms, I had learned of the countless ways a broker could circumvent the firm's safeguards and put it at risk. Even though, technically, I was suppose to clear all transactions with my superior, I pretty well had carte blanc to do trading, since my reputation was of a cautious surefire trader.

But when I got back from Chicago, I had opened an account in a fictitious business account and using funds from the firm I began an avalanche of trading. By day's end I had several thousand dollars profit into the account and replaced every dollar into the firm's coffers. I then erased the transactions out of the firm's computers, so no records remained and I was off and running. I know what I did was illegal, but, I reconciled myself with knowing how much I had earned for everybody I had worked for over the years. I was satisfied with one day's payback.

The next day, I began aggressively trading again and was up $10,000 dollars by the close of trading. That pattern continued all week as I doubled or tripled my money. When I had close to $200,000, I took a short position on some top heavy tech stocks. I had timed it just right as I rang up 600% profits on each one, without having to respond to a margin call. Now, I was worth more than a million.

Then my superior came sniffing around. The same man who had given me that damning review now insisted I hand over the account to him. I made a couple of keystrokes cashing in the account to an offshore account and turned to him and told him to go fuck himself and quit on the spot.

Since that time, I had continued my run until I was quite wealthy. That was why I had no objection to signing Denise's property settlement agreement. In her rush to protect her assets, she had neglected to see if I had any. And they continued to grow aggressively until I met Jeannie and realized I had a chance at starting over.

When, I married Jeannie, I finally revealed how much was in her account. She almost fainted at the mention of $2,000,000 dollars. Well actually, she almost fainted when I told her I was worth just north of 400 million dollars. Then, I made her aware that I owned every house in a block area around our houses. Her house, had been the only house I had been unable to purchase and it turned out to be the best investment I ever did not make.

One last thing Denise would never know is how wealth correlated to power. That much wealth required a lot of legal oversight. A good portion of which I retained Denise's firm to oversee even though she was unaware of it. I had made it known to enough of the senior partners of how unhappy I would be if Denise made partner.

That is, if she still had a law license. You see Denise and Paul had gone to the bank which held the mortgage on our marital home and they had forged my name on the paperwork for a second mortgage, so they would have the funds for the cashier check they had tried to entice me with and saddle me with the second mortgage.

Too bad, they didn't know I also owned the bank and had orders to be personally notified if anything flagged that account. Now, my good friend the district attorney, whom I had endorsed in the last election would be filing forgery charges on Denise and Paul. Furthermore, he assured me, he would lead the way to see that they both were disbarred from the practice of law.

I casually wondered as I hung up the phone from speaking to him; whether, Denise would represent herself or have a public defender at her trial. She wouldn't have much left after the announcement of the low income Section 8 housing development project next to my good friends of the home owners' association came out. A contracting firm owned by my conglomerate would be building the project that would nose dive the property values of the homeowners. Since I had purchased the land to donate as a tax break on some of my annual profit, it all tied in.




Covet



As I sat by my darling wife and propped her feet into my lap and gently massaged her feet as our children, whom I had adopted watched TV with their cousins who moved into Jeannie's old house which she had given to her brother. The contented sighs from her pleased me as I got a smile from her. It was the smile I got when I was in for a special night.

Of course, every night with Jeannie was a special night as I smiled back and continued to rub her feet.



Covet Thy Coven



Salem Ma. 2010. summer.

The night air was warm they did not know I was watching set up the alter and draw the pentagram on the floor. As if I am controlled by a drawing, but let them have their childish ways. 

The coven gathered dress in white flowing gowns except for Diana. she was aging but she has been a good loyal advert of my earthly deeds. She has sacrificed much for me. Diana had recently been released from a psyche ward after she had burned a church while under my command.

Sara was at the bedside sobbing barely able to speak the incantation in the candle light. Normally my incubuses would attend but tonight I felt the need for my personal attention.

Sara's human lover had found out about the coven. He then brought an exorcist the killed the spawn of my incubus. Tonight I must heal my coven and punish the Christian.

The spell was spoken and I appeared to the coven. 13 souls that where mine. 8 minds clouded by heroin other narcotics 3 minds feeble and looking for excitement of being bad and naughty. they will make good slut and food for my minions. However 2 true believers that will reign as my brides. Diana and Sara.

When I arrive, first they smell my scent musky smoke and frankincense, then I form.

"Why have you summoned me " I demand.

Diana speaks. "My liege, the Christians have killed your spawn that Sara had in her womb". Her finger clothing and caressing the dagger strapped to her thigh. "turn me and let me do your vengeance"

"Sara" I looked into her eyes. they where filled with sadness and fear. They will pay. "Neophytes leave the circle tonight will not be yours.". Glancing at a young girl "What are you called neophyte?" she was of weak mind and sprite 

"Heather" she meekly replied

5 loops of hell fire lept from the ground and bound her to the alter by the wrists ankles and neck. she screened in pain from the fires and the fear of what was happening to her.

"You will serve tonight Heather."

"Diana and Sara come". I speed my wings welcoming them into my embrace. "Sara do you wish to fulfill your mission?"

"Sir my womb is empty it needs to be filled with darkness". 

with that Diana kissed Sara deeply. Their arms around me and each other.

Addressing Sara "Kneel witch" I command kissing my priestess Diana. We both watch Sara fall to her knees and present herself. Diana placed her hand on Sara head and pressed her mouth onto my cock. I can smell the scent of her pussy flowing as she tastes my throbbing cock. I kiss Diana she moans when my lips touch hers. Her pact with me nearly complete. Removing Sara's mouth from my cock she resists but for a mere second. 

I lift Diana and carry her to the bed and lay her upon it.

Looking into my priestesses eyes I run my claw over Diana's nipple she whimpers as her nipple bleeds. I nurse the blood from her tit tasting her life-force.

"Drink from your priestess witch" 

Hungrily Sara sucked the bold from Diane nipple. Running her fingers over Diana's flesh. tinting her skin red in her own blood, down to her pussy. Sara Licked the trail of blood down to her priestesses cunt. She licked her priestess wetness deeply pleasuring her.

With Sara on her hands and knees licking at Diana. Sara's ass ws high in the air, a human slut for her priestess and master. Diana could feel Sara bloodied lips on her wet cunt biting at her clit. 

I can sense Diana is ready to cum into Sara's mouth.

With my claw I drew a pentagram into Sara's exposed ass the blood dripping from her ass into her wet cunt, her tongue licking from Diana's clit. Using Sara's blood I drew a pentagram onto Diana's cleavage over her heart

Her body trembling she held her dagger over her own chest.

"Now!!! Witch" I looked into her eyes as she came, her pussy flooded Sara mouth. 

Diana plunged the dagger into her heart. 

I sank my demon teeth into her neck feeling her life-force fade and replaced her blood with my demonic venom turning her. 

Heather the neophyte was screaming in horror. 

A priestess dies and a vampire is born. Diana would feed on the first human she could and Sara was too vulnerable. I bound Diana to the bed the fire would no longer burn her.

I mounted Sara from behind a fucked my witch slut, her pussy wet on my cock. I fucked her like the animal she was. Sara screamed with pleasure as she gave herself to me, the vampire sleeping below us. Heather watching me take her witch sister. 

Sara's pussy was caressing my cock as she came, I released my seed into her. Filling her with my cum she screamed in pain as my cum burned inside her. We both felt her conceive my child. My red cum was dripping from her pussy. 

She crawled over to her neophyte, reached between her thighs and wet her fingers with our cum. "Taste our master Heather."

Heather turned away sobbing. Sara glared at her. She slapped Heather across her face hard drawing blood from her strike and then spanked her ass. 

"How dare you refuse the gift of our master". 

She took her cum laced fingers and slid them deep in Heather. She cried in torment as my cum burned her cunt.

I unbound Diana and held Sara in my wings to keep the mother to be safe. After all she was still human unlike Diana. Diana would feed on the first human she could. She was more animal now than human.

Diana awoke her skin a shade blue twilight. Her gums bleeding black venom from her new fangs. She stared at heather with eyes that where just orbs of off-white.

Heather froze, terrified of the women she had just seen commit ritual suicide and resurrected as this beautiful monster. She felt Diana's fangs slice through her throat.

Sara and I watched with enjoyment as Diana fed. The first feed was always brutal. Heather lay on as if she had been eaten by wolves. scraps of the girl where strewn across the alter.

After she had had her fill of the girl she turned to me and kissed my neck racking her fangs over my neck. Her skin was more human like now she was nourished. She kissed Sara caressing her tummy "Now we are ready." She said as I caressed my brides.

to be continued....



Covet Thy Neighbor?



Next door to where I live is a newish 4 condo building (one to each floor, all fairly large). The units have a tiny rear deck (about 4' X 10"). My place is the only home on the block with a back yard/garden; everyone else on the block has done a build-out or tear–down, then re-building a much larger home covering the whole footprint of their property. As a result, all of the local squirrels come to die in my back yard. One my pleasures is working in my gardens (small in front and larger in the rear). I trim perennials and plant annuals. There's a singles bar nearby, so I also clean up stuff like beer cans and rubbers passersby leave behind. It's a gentrified environment.

The summer before last on a very warm July day, I was sweating up a storm in the back yard moving dirt around and digging up weeds. Taking a break, I had just finished a cold beer when I heard the lilting tone of a female voice—

"Hi Michael, your garden looks great." 

I looked up at the second floor condo and saw Cindy, a then 40 -something divorcée, mother of Alex--a 6 year old dilettante. She was leaning over her deck railing giving me a come hither smile. She was and is very attractive. She does seem to flaunt her trim, toned and very shapely body at every opportunity (I love flaunters). Although the sun's glare was impeding my view, I could see Cindy wearing a very sexy bikini. She was hosing down her deck.

Cindy had then been living next door to me for about two years. She was very friendly. Some of the happily young- marrieds on our block thought her a bit too friendly. She was often out front with her son playing. She used the building's garden hose to spray him and cool herself as well. Cindy seemingly never wore a bra and her tee shirts and shorts often got wet. Her water-chilled pointy nipples were clearly visible and when she wore a thinner fabric, her beautifully shaped breasts could be seen as if she were in a wet tee shirt contest. When Cindy and Alex were outside there was an inordinate amount of dogs being walked by men of the many local households. Although feigning indifference to leering stares, Cindy clearly enjoyed exhibiting her toned lithe body and. being ogled 

Cindy had been to our home a few times: Once for a casual dinner with lots of neighbors and then for our annual Halloween party. I loved her last year's costume--a very cute little white nurse's outfit. It was predictably white with deep décolletage with outlandish push-up bra. Her rounded perky breasts seemed to be lying on top of the bra, her nipples almost peeking out of her low cut bodice.

The very short outfit showed off her super legs, long, tanned and shapely. She seemed taller than her 5'3." Cindy had a profound effect upon one of my golf buddies, a heart surgeon, accompanied by his loving wife. (I have a video of him looking up her white dress while purportedly picking up his fallen napkin.) Cindy left early to pick up Alex—my suburban buddy left shortly thereafter.       

Cindy's penchant's for wearing borderline provocative clothing turned me on but, because of her proximity to my home, discretion (and faked disinterest) was my strategy. Other than her nerdy ex-husband coming by for visitation with Alex, I had yet to see her with a date. A very horny shrink friend from down the street thought her an exhibitionist with latent narcissistic tendencies. I asked him what the hell that meant and he said "I dunno, but I'd love to do her."

Cindy apparently comes from a well-to-do family; her parents often visited—separately, each with their new spouses, deluging her and the kid with their largess. She is at the U of C (MBA program). She is very smart and made great eye contact. She often bitched about her ex-husband, which, I guess is normal in cases of divorce and custody.

When she called down to me that day, I considered possible scenarios and consequences. But, as my good old dad used to caution me, "a stiff pecker has no brains." My dick had no idea there was an inherent danger in my staring at the little triangular piece of material covering her bottom. Nor did it react defensively to Cindy's cute round breasts spilling out of her tiny bikini top. I was hooked when she casually pulled her top slightly away from her bosom, and mimicking an ingénue, she sprayed her breasts with the hose. I knew she knew I couldn't see her nakedness but she giggled, shivered and seemed to revel in her little tease.

Debonair, sophisticated and stalwart guy that I thought myself, I immediately felt the increased stiffness in my loins as Mr. Boner awoke. I realized my face was sodden with dirt, sweat and vegetation. I took the hose and sprayed myself soaking my tee shirt but washing away some of the crud. Eloquently, I shouted up to her: 

"Hey, great swimsuit!"

She pirouetted and flexed her cute firm ass at me, looked over her shoulder and said, "you like it?" In my suave voice I replied, "what's not to like?"

We chatted/gossiped and, banalities accomplished, Cindy asked: "How long will Carol (my wife) be gone?" Curious and a bit puzzled, I asked, "how do you know she's away?"

"I saw her get in a cab with a pretty big suitcase this AM—are you guys OK?" (Pure Cindy).

Being a kind, sensitive guy, I responded: "she left me to join a convent dedicated to the patron saint of shopping-- St. Tiffany." Seeing that my inane attempt at humor went flying past her, I continued: "she'll be back in 5 days." Not seeming very interested, Cindy segued:

"I need to ask your advice about something; can you come over later for a few minutes?" I asked her what the nature of her problem was, and she answered, "my ex is giving me trouble about Alex; can we talk, please?" I told her I wasn't very conversant in family law but she persisted. Weighing the gravity of her problems and looking at her body, I ruminated about the situation.

Like any prudent, faithful husband who fears a neighbor might see him entering Cindy's condo, I declined:" Sorry, I'm expecting a call from an overseas client this evening." My thought processes were however, very different as I inwardly prayed, "please let her offer to come to my house." At this point I had no idea what I wanted of, or with this sexy person—I just knew I wanted to see more of her (body).

Music to my aging ears: "Alex is with his sitter until later this evening, how 'bout I come over to your house in an hour?" Good neighbor that I considered myself, I grudgingly acquiesced. I went upstairs where a cool shower and an icy Ketel One awaited.

Buzzed slightly from the vodka and comfy in workout shorts and a tee, I opened the door to Cindy.

"Hi, good grief, you clean up nice!," taken aback by her freshened appearance and striking good looks. "Come on in!" 

She had put on a little make-up and some sultry perfume (my olfactory nerve is my best asset).Her short auburn hair was tossed, as if fresh from a shower. She also seemed taller—I noticed her heeled sandals as she passed me to go up the stairs. But the real wowser was her outfit: A short, tiny black tee baring substantial firm tanned flesh below—all the way below—to a very low cut black, soft cotton, matching mini skirt. I followed her swaying ass up the stairs. Discovering the color of her panties became my short term goal.

Cindy plopped own on the couch in the living room, sighed deeply and demurely asked, "may I have a glass of wine?" 

"Sure, white or red?" She smiled and said "Chardonnay, if it's OK?" She seemed to bat her eyes coyly as she looked up at me. I went to the kitchen, poured the wine, retrieved my drink and joined her on the couch. She had leaned back against the armrest with her tanned bare legs stretched out on the cushions, sandals kicked off. I sat down opposite her, trying, albeit with difficulty, to keep my eyes away from the hem of her very short skirt. We touched glasses and Cindy took a deep sip of wine, looked at me quizzically, and began to relate to her alleged problem:

"My ex is giving me a lot of trouble about visitation with Alex." That seemed strange because the ex seemed (to me) like a decent guy, visits regularly, brings the kid home on time, and Alex seemed to be in good spirits around his father. In answer to a question I politely posed, her ex was current in support and all financial obligations. Cindy eyes then began to tear up. Somewhat angrily she said, "I just don't have any time to myself, he's always calling and dropping by to see Alex." Ah, I thought to myself, a case of an over attentive dad.

I again began explaining that a domestic relations was not my forte when Cindy started crying. My "what's the matter, Cindy?" was countered with "can I have a tissue?" Bewildered, but with lewdness in my heart, I brought her some Kleenex. She wiped her eyes miraculously not disturbing her light makeup, and looked up at me, and in a complete change in tone said:

"Can I REALLY talk to you and tell you what's REALLY happening? Why I REALLY need someone on my side? Honestly, I don't know who to turn to." She crossed one long over the other and leaned back. Sympathetically, I said "of course" (while thinking, "no bra, that little shirt is barely covering the undersides of her breasts...maybe she'll lean back further."

I softly and gently told her that she might think about getting some help-- a therapist perhaps? Cindy looked at me, paused and responded: "Only if he's as cute and nice as you."

Cindy smiled broadly. She took a sip of wine. Blue eyes staring at me over the goblet, she fluffed the hem of her tiny black skirt as if preparing to get up. I thought I saw her panties but it happened too quickly and, for once my eyes weren't focused there. 

Starting me somewhat, Cindy exclaimed: "Michael, I'm fucking lonesome! Bored! .... and, honestly, I get real horny!" She took a deep breath considering what she had said and continued: "On top of everything, Alex is all boy and very needy."

Slightly babbling, I told her she seemed to be wonderful mother and a beautiful girl—very desirable and well put together. Gulping some vodka, I told her any normal guy would love to be with her. She seemed to perk up a bit and then it happened! 

With a gamin-like look on her face, Cindy drew her knees up to her chest. The little black skirt wasn't nearly up to the task of covering her thighs and above. Moving imperceptibly to my right I had an oblique but very clear view of her peach colored bikini briefs. The familiar warming in my loins that precedes my cock getting stiff was wonderful.

Cindy didn't miss a beat watching me closely, she giggled and said "I like it when you look at me; it makes me feel warm and sexy." She opened her knees a bit giving me a straight on view of her panties which appeared to be very silky and shear. 

My heart started to race as my dick hardened. I made no effort to restrain or hide it in my loose shorts. Cindy looked at the bulge, smiled and licked her lips, VERY suggestively. I noticed her left had was scratching/stroking her left side moving slowing to the underside of her breast only inches above. 

Not knowing exactly what to do, I lamely asked: "Can I get you another glass of wine?" Cindy reached over handing me her glass placing her left foot on the floor widely spreading her legs and causing her skirt to move up to her hip. As I bent to grasp her glass, I saw that the very shear panties were open completely on the side and I could see well groomed but lush pubic hair at her crotch. She modestly closed her legs as I took the glass.

I thought about throwing on different pair of shorts with a jock, but I though, "fuck it." I returned with our freshened drinks. The length and shape of my cock was discernible through my shorts. I was very turned on in anticipation of maybe seeing Cindy's whole package (no pun meant). 

As I approached the couch, Cindy rose and brushing her breasts against my chest walking by me, she grinned over her shoulder saying "be right back." She entered the bathroom and I took a moment to appraise the situation. I decided that I wouldn't, no matter what, fuck her, even if she begged me, hah. I also knew that I wanted our little tease and show game to continue. It was, after all, harmless, and I was being neighborly.

I smelled her perfume before I saw Cindy return. She looked freshened and a little flushed. I watched her breasts sway as she sat down, again opposite me, legs properly closed, knees flexed to one side. Very demurely, she cast her eyes downward and turned head a bit away from me. Talking very softly she said:

"I get excited when men look at my body; it makes me feel very sexy and powerful. I love it when I know a man can see my panties or my breasts. I get a warm sensuous feeling seeing a bulge in a guy's pants knowing that he's turned on looking at me. Am I a bad person?" 

Dumbstruck, I shook my head, swallowed, and said, "no, of course not, you're in your sexual prime, healthy and very good looking; there's nothing wrong that I can see. Maybe you should get out more."

She turned towards me stretching out her pretty legs but not opening them and smiled. "I saw that you were turned on before. Was that because of me?"

"What made you think that?" I said innocently. Cindy said, "I saw the bulge of your penis in those shorts." 

"I plead guilty, but I ask for leniency, it was an irresistible impulse." 

She politely laughed, looked at me in a very sultry way, and said:" I was very excited watching your eyes look at my panties; I wanted you to see them....... I want to show you more of me."

Relaxed and leaning back again against the armrest, Cindy looked hard at me, and asked: "do you want to see my breasts?" I was almost overcome with the sexual electricity coming from her as I said, "yes, I'd love to see them." She very slowly reached for the loose bottom of her short tee shirt. Her eyelids went to half mast and with a deliberate peeling motion, she moved the tee up and over the globes that were her glorious breasts.

I let out a long breath as I gazed at the whiteness of her breasts contrasted with her summer tan. Her areolas were large, pale beige with protruding nipples strutting excitedly at me. Their very slight sag evidenced a naturalness which enthralled me.

"Do you like looking at my breasts? I hope so—I'm getting wet looking at you watch me show myself." She had placed a hand under each breast and seeming to offer them to me, she moved her thumbs over her nipples.

"I like to touch myself," she continued massaging the erect nipples. "Do you like to touch yourself?" Cindy was looking directly at my swollen cock trying to free itself (and me wanting to aid and abet its doing so).

By her demeanor and language I could tell Cindy was feeling the exaltation of voluptuousness. She was reveling in her ability to create the intense craving I was experiencing in anticipating seeing more of her. Cindy spoke with a new, different voice, almost hissing at me, "take out your penis and show it to me, NOW."

Her hands left her stiff, excited nipples. She slouched down a bit, her legs coming closer to me. She placed one pedicured foot on each of my knees. I was rewarded with the resumption of a clear sight path to her crotch.

There was a dark circle of moisture at the center of her panties obviously seeping from her pussy's lips which were vaguely visible beneath the shear, damp fabric.

I was fascinated. Cindy, though perhaps enamored with my rapt attention to her crotch and tits, ordered me to "take it out; stop rubbing it thru your shorts. I want to how much I turn you on."

Awakening, I got into the sensuality of the situation; I took off my tee shirt and slowly slid my shorts down my hips, macho as possible, while staring at her almost nude form, It seemed so erotic to me seeing her moist panties that when my shorts freed my bouncing cock, I wanted to grasp it's length, stroke it and feel the ecstasy building in my balls.

After tossing my shorts to the side, I looked over at Cindy. I almost lost it. She had cast off her tiny skirt and thrown her long legs apart—one on top of the back of the couch and the other pointing toward the floor. Her breasts seemed so very white against her tan. Looking downward at her body, teasing myself, I saw more whiteness-- the area covered by her bikini bottom, so much brighter than its tanned surroundings.

I then realized she was holding her panties out to me. I reached for them mesmerized by her nakedness. It was then that I saw an amazingly erotic contrast: The starkness of her dark, matted pubic hair against her white groin was pure sexuality. I lay back against my armrest, stretched out my legs and took hold the shaft of my dick. I was rock hard and close.

Cindy smiled and said "they're a present to you." I dumbly realized I was holding her panties in my right hand. I looked at them and brought them to my nose; I sought the damp spots and sniffed Cindy's essence. I looked at her saw that she was feeling her sensual power—her breasts and crotch were thrust out at me and slim fingers from both hands were opening her pussy lips to me. She moved them against each other, sights of glistening pink wetness peeking at me.

Cindy looked down at my crotch, licked her lower lip and whispered, "go ahead, keep pulling on that cock for me." I realized that I was stroking my dick and her words were an aphrodisiac to me—the visuals—her breasts, her hair encircled slit, all leading me to the edge. There was stuff dripping from the purple head of my cock, I used it as an oil to anoint the length of my shaft. My right hand (I'm a lefty) cupped my testicles;they were retreating to shoot their load.

Cindy apparently approved of my efforts. I was in rapture watching her busy fingers. Three fingers of her right hand were rubbing her now reddened clitoris in a circular motion; the index and middle fingers of her left hand were moving in a slower pattern, in and out of her vagina. Partially deafened by the sensuous stimuli, I vaguely heard her voice:

"Come on, pull on that hot cock—look at my hot pussy--look at me doing it. Shoot cum at me."

I was there, oh was I there, the indescribable excruciating wonderful sensation of orgasm, I felt it rising, exploding... I started to spurt semen towards Cindy's wanton nakedness. She was looking directly at my spewing dick, her fingers a blur... she grimaced, moaned, threw her head back and screamed, "Oh, I'm there, I'm fucking THERE." 

I was lying back, spent, as they say in the seamier novels. Cindy was prostrate, breathing heavily; her breasts were flattened somewhat, nipples tight and erect; her legs still wide apart, well groomed pussy wide open, engorged, bright pink, with shimmering juices sparkling on her dark pubic hair.

We lay there for an unknown period of time. Me, trying to emblazon Cindy's body into my memory for future "reference." She-- who knows? I hoped she was OK.

Startling me out of my daze, Cindy sprang up and grabbed her clothing. She looked at the mantle clock and exclaimed: "oh shit, I've got to pick up Alex at the sitter's." She rushed into the bathroom.

Emerging, flushed, but looking fresh, she hugged me briefly and said "thanks, that was fun." I was still in a stupor, but I managed a smile and pompously mumbled, "don't mention it."

As I walked her down the stairs to the door, she looked up at me, grinned, and said "I had a great time; don't worry, you never laid a hand on me." 

Since that evening, Cindy hasn't since flirted with me. She says hi and howarya, nothing more.

I did see her recently in the alley. She was getting into her Audi, dressed very chic, business-like. She told me she was working with a Fortune 500 company and was off to LA.I asked how long she'd be away. She arched her perfect brows and said:

"5 days, time enough for you to practice up." I'm still bewildered at her meaning, but practicing, just in case....



Covet Thy Neighbor's New Tits



I am a successful businessman, a partner in a large consulting firm. Unfortunately, where I was blessed with a sharp mind and good business sense, my physical appearance is lacking. I am a stereotypical business nerd. At thirty-seven I am prematurely balding, slightly overweight no matter how much I work out, and reliant on a set of coke bottle thick glasses.

Married to my job, I have led a sheltered sex life. Twelve-hour days at the office leave little time for dating, and a hot night for me is a bottle of wine and a few hours of surfing porn on the Internet. 

I do enjoy outdoor activities; gardening in my yard, fishing, motocross, and tennis. It was a result of these activities that I became good friends with my next-door neighbors in Wichita, Scott and Allison Snow. We lived in an upscale neighborhood on a quite cul-de-sac. I owned a sweet bass boat and Scott often joined me for Saturday morning trips to the local lakes. Allison wasn’t much of a fisher, but she would tag along and lay in the sun while Scott and I caught dinner. On many a hot Kansas afternoon, ogling Allison’s bikini clad body was more fun than fishing.

Visions of her long, lithe body, barely covered by the Lycra of her string bikini stoked many a late night jerk-off session. 

The Snow’s had met at the University of Kansas, where he played college football and she was a Jayhawk cheerleader and volleyball player. They were your typical all-American couple; great looking, athletic, and successful.

Though Allison didn’t care for fishing, she was an avid tennis player. Scott thought tennis was a ‘sissy’ sport, so I often joined her at the club to play a few sets. We even teamed in mixed doubles for several club tournaments. Scott clearly was not threatened by the nerdy consultant next door spending time with his knockout wife. I wasn’t a threat, besides we were all good friends.

Allison was in her early thirties, a perpetual tan from lounging around the couple’s pool. She spent several nights a week in aerobics classes at the club, even teaching a spinning class. She was tall, maybe 5’10” and towered over me in a pair of heels. She had long blonde hair and the most gorgeous deep blue eyes. Unlike most southern girls, she wore almost no make-up and was still the prettiest woman in the room.

As Scott had often confided, her only setback was her flat chest. He joked that in college she used to wear a padded bra, and it was her fake tits that had made him originally take notice of her. The first few times they had done the deed, she insisted on lights-out before she would strip. Only after Scott had become addicted to her sweet pussy, did she confess that her ‘public’ tits were the figment of a water-filled bra.

I once asked, “Couldn’t you tell in the dark that her tits were smaller when she took off her clothes?”

In typical Scott fashion, he responded, “Tits are for show, Wayne. When we were getting down to business, my dick was either in her mouth or her pussy. Foreplay for me was the cash I spent on flowers and a fancy dinner.”

Scott was your typical ex-jock. A strapping middle linebacker in college, he stayed in shape playing hoops and lifting weights. He flirted openly with women, although I never saw him actually consummate a deal. The couple often joined me in my backyard hot tub, and Scott packed an awesome punch in his wet bathing suit. A time or two I had caught sideways glances of his exposed dick as he pissed off the side of the boat, draining his lizard after a few too many brews. He was very well endowed and I often observed Allison’s dreamy gaze glued to his package, a look of lust and longing in her bright eyes.

After a few beers around the pool one night, Scott confided that he was planning to give Allison a tit job for Christmas. She would have the big jugs she always craved and he would have his trophy wife.

I had to admit, next summer’s fishing trips would be that much sweeter.

Unfortunately, around Thanksgiving, my firm transferred me to San Francisco. We said our goodbyes and Allison mentioned that she would be in San Francisco in the spring for a fashion show. She was a buyer for a big retail chain and traveled a lot with her work. We made plans to meet for dinner and I promised to show her the town.

Scott, in his usual crass manner joked, “And she can show you her new sweater meats.”

I blushed and Allison whacked Scott on the arm, “You’re such a pig!”

Several months passed before I received a call from Allison, “I’ll be in SF on Friday. Let’s meet for dinner before I have to fly to Los Angeles on Saturday for another show.”

I had a healthy jack-off that night, thinking about seeing Allison and her new tits. I couldn’t wait until Friday.

She was staying at the swank Hotel W across from the Museum of Modern Art. We agreed to meet in the lobby bar for a drink after work before hitting the town.

I arrived early and ordered a martini to sooth my nerves, positioning myself at the bar so I could watch for Allison’s arrival. The place was full of A-class talent, all way out of my league but great eye candy.

Every head in the place turned to watch Allison as she walked through the door. She wore a tailored navy pinstripe business suit, the jacket low-cut in the front revealing a lacy undergarment barely concealing her new cleavage. The suit’s short skirt almost covered her tight ass, her long stocking-clad legs sitting atop a pair of 4-inch heels. Her hair was down and a look of renewed confidence shone in her face, her posture tall and proud as her new tits steered her toward the bar. She owned the room, and she new it. Allison was never shy, but her new and improved breasts had instilled a sense of invincibility in her persona, and she walked into the bar like she owned the place.

“Oh Wayne, it’s so good to see you,” she smiled, hugging me tightly, her new rack pressed against my chest. I was in heaven. All the men in the bar stared in envy as Allison pulled up a barstool next to me and ordered a drink.

“You look great, Wayne, have you been working out?” she asked. Her physical appearance revamped, she was still the sweet Kansas girl her parents had raised.

“Some,” I answered. “Just trying to stay in shape. I’ve gotten into mountain biking and my posterior has firmed up considerably.”

“Nothing like a hard set of buns,” she giggled, slapping my butt a playful swat.

We chatted for an hour, downing a couple of drinks, getting reacquainted and enjoying each other’s company.  While I had a tough time keeping my eyes off her cleavage, wondering how those magnificent new boobs would look in one of her skimpy bikinis, we never mentioned her surgery or her tits. I guess it’s just not something two adult professionals work into a conversation.

We grabbed a cab and headed to North Beach for dinner at a little neighborhood Italian restaurant. After a couple of bottles of red wine and a fine meal, we were feeling no pain. After staring at Allison’s new rack for several hours, the only thing I was feeling was a rush of blood to my pecker.

As we emerged from the restaurant, Allison implored, “I need to find a souvenir for Scott, any ideas?”

It was getting late and all the tourist shops were closed. “We can walk through North Beach and head for Broadway,” I suggested. “Maybe something will be open down there.” Yea, all the sex shops I thought. Maybe she could get Scott a leather thong or a new cock ring.

To my surprise, the first sex shop we came too Allison said, “Let’s try in here.” I didn’t know if it was all the booze talking or just Allison’s renewed adventurous spirit, but what the hell.

We browsed the magazines and DVDs, Allison with a clinical inquisitiveness, me trying to keep my semi-erect penis hidden from her view. Television screens played endless loops of various sex scenes; orgies, interracial, gangbangs, lesbian, gay, bisexual. Allison would watch a scene briefly before turning her attention back to the shelves, filling her basket with odds and ends. What is it about women and shopping?

“So do you have any gonzo tapes with Briana Banks?” she asked the clerk.

“Right over there ma’am,” he responded.

Turning to me, Allison explained, “Scott loves Briana Banks.”

Well who fucking doesn’t, I thought to myself.

This was a new side of the Snow's with which I wasn’t familiar. “So you and Scott are into porn?” I asked.

“It’s one of the few hobbies we share,” Allison answered, matter-of-factly.

As Allison perused the Briana Banks’ section, my attention was drawn to a bisexual video playing on one of the televisions. A big-dicked stud was plowing an older guy’s ass, while a hot babe squatted on the twink’s face. The hottie had big, firm tits and the ass-fucker was enjoying playing with her erect nipples while he throttled the poor guy’s shitter. The twink had an average dick, but the chick was paying him special attention, jerking his tool as his ass was being deeply abused.

“Did you find something you like?” Allison asked, yanking my attention from the video screen, a funny gleam in her eyes.

“Just looking,” I said, absently picking up a big rubber dildo from the shelf under the TV screen.

“I like that one too,” Allison purred, taking the dildo from me.

It was probably 9 inches long, chocolate black and thick as a beer can, deeply veined with a realistic sack of balls. I was embarrassed to have picked the phallic toy, my face blushing bright red.

“It’s a remarkable likeness of Scott,” she sighed, “except for the color of course.”

Damn, I knew Scott had a big wanker, but I had no idea he was that well endowed. I didn’t know how to respond.

“Maybe I’ll get it,” Allison continued, “I’m traveling for several more days before going home. This could come in handy.” She winked wickedly at me before turning to another shelf of lubes and lotions.

I wandered over to the magazine rack and perused several of the skin mags while Allison finished her shopping. I love porn but I was too embarrassed to buy anything in front of her.

As we left the shop, I noticed from the size of her stuffed bag, Allison felt no such shame. 

“That was fun,” she exclaimed. “The sex shops in Wichita aren’t nearly so exotic.”

As the cab pulled up in front of her hotel, I was saddened to think my time with Allison was coming to an end.

“You want to grab a nightcap in the bar?” she asked.

I didn’t need any more alcohol, but I jumped at the opportunity. I was hoping to at least get a hug goodbye, getting my cheap jollies where I could.

Unfortunately the bar was closed, but Allison had a solution, “Why don’t you come up to my room? The mini bar is stocked and I want to get out of this stuffy suit.”

As she closed the door to her room, I opened the mini bar and poured us each a drink. Turning back to Allison, I was floored by the view. She had removed her suit jacket, her lacy camisole the only garment of clothing between her proud tits and my wanting eyes.

“Wayne, you didn’t say anything about my new boobies,” Allison cooed, massaging her mammoth mounds through the thin material, tweaking her nipples to arousal. “Don’t you like them?”

“Uhhh…well…ummmm,” I stuttered, unable to regain my self-composure.

“You’re so cute,” she teased. “I’ve watched you drooling over these new puppies all night. But you are too polite to say anything. Scott wouldn’t have lasted five minutes before asking if he could see or touch them.”

“They are spectacular, Allison,” I croaked, trying to salvage the situation. “Your doctor did a magnificent job.”

“Thanks, Wayne,” she answered proudly. “I’m going to slip into something more comfortable. Make yourself at home.”

She disappeared into the bathroom with her bag full of porn goodies and I absently flicked on the TV before grabbing my drink and gazing out the window at the spectacular San Francisco skyline. Where was this going, I wondered? Was she coming on to me or was she just a little drunk and brazenly showing off her new rack. Scott would kill me if I made a pass at his wife, but the booze was swirling in my mind, significantly altering my decision-making ability.

“What are you watching, Wayne?” Allison queried, emerging from the bathroom wrapped in a big terrycloth robe. As she motioned toward the TV screen, I embarrassedly noticed a skin flick was playing.

“Wow,” I stammered, “I didn’t realize….”

“Do you like her big tits?” Allison cut me off, mid-sentence, as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“They are OK,” I answered.

“You want to see some really nice tits?” she continued, as she ran her hand sexily down the front of her loosely tied robe.

My mind was spinning and my knees went weak. What the fuck was I gonna do?

“You don’t have to answer, Wayne,” Allison giggled, “The tent in your slacks gives you away.” She slowly pulled her robe open, revealing more of her incredible cleavage, her hand disappearing inside the robe to massage her firm tits.

Worried this was getting out of control, I tried a different approach, “What about Scott?”

“Scott’s not here, Wayne,” she answered sharply. “Besides, would you rather see his big cock or my new tits?”

Her comment caught me off guard. She had misunderstood my concerns. But fleeting images of Scott’s big piss stick flashed in my head. I wondered, was his dick really as big as that dildo at the porn shop?

I’m not gay, although I do admit large cocks really turn me on. Whether in pornos or stag magazines, watching a big, thick dick plow a hot piece of pussy never fails to flip my switch. Maybe its just envy, wishing my average little dick could drive women wild like those porn stars.

Before I could answer Allison’s inexplicably perplexing question, she answered it for me. Standing up, she untied her robe, flashing it open to reveal her beautiful body.

“Lucky for you, you don’t have to choose,” she exhaled, that wicked gleam returning to her bright eyes. 

I was in shock; her boobs were truly spectacular, perfect round globes, floating above her well-toned tummy, standing proud and begging for attention. But the most shocking aspect of her nude body was the long, thick, black cock dangling between her legs, strapped on by a thick leather belt.

My jaw dropped open, my hand drawn to my throbbing boner, my eyes not believing the incredibly sexy sight of Allison’s nude body.

She reached down to stroke her dangling dildo in her dainty hand, “I saw you watching that bisexual video in the porn store. And the lust in your eyes when I told you this dildo looked like Scott’s prick; I thought you were going to shoot a load right then and there. I had to buy it and I found the harness while you were thumbing through the magazines. I hope you like it.”

“You look beautiful,” I stammered, truly entranced by her naked body.

“I have noticed your infatuation with Scott’s package,” she continued. “And I don’t blame you; it is impressive. But until tonight, I didn’t know how badly you wanted it.”

“I’m not gay,” I defended myself, “In fact, I have never had any kind of homosexual experience.”

“It’s OK Wayne. I understand the hypnotic draw of a big fat cock. It’s mesmerizing. And trust me, it can please you in ways you can’t even imagine.”

She continued to stroke her rubber dick, spitting a fat loogie on the knob, nastily lubing the long tool.

“Why don’t you strip for me,” she giggled. “Show me how those workouts are toning your body. I want to see your firm butt cheeks.”

Unable to resist her power, I quickly undressed, leaving only my briefs to cover my pathetic little boner.

“Not bad, Wayne,” she stated. “Rip those tighties off and show me yours. I’ve shown you mine; or should I say I’ve shown you Scott’s.”

Removing my underwear, I stood completely nude in front of this incredible goddess. I needed her to take control, to use me. I wanted to succumb completely to this fantasy come true.

“Cute. You’re just a little teddy bear. Now crawl over here and kiss my big dick,” she ordered.

I obediently dropped to my hands and knees, following her command. As I reached out to grasp her toy phallus, she harshly slapped me across the face with the spit-lubed dildo.

“Beg for it,” she ordered. “Do a good job and I will let you play with my new boobs.”

I was so fucking aroused. Between her gorgeous tits and Scott’s replica penis, it was like Christmas morning.

“Please, Allison…” I started.

Slap! Slap! “When you suck my dick, call me Scott,” she ordered. “Tell Scott how you want to suck his big cock.”

“OK,” I answered tentatively. “Can I suck your big cock, Scott?”

“That’s weak you little faggot,” Allison shouted, again slapping my face with her fake dick.

Digging deep, I tried again. “I want you to fuck my face with your big stud cock, Scott. Make me your bitch and train me to throat your monster.”

“Better,” Allison coached, “much better,” as she lightly tapped the rubber cockhead against my outstretched tongue.

Getting into it I begged, “I’ve wanted to touch your dick for years. I have always envied your beautiful wife’s unlimited access to your giant tonsil tickler.”

Allison began to thrust her hips forward, forcing the head of the big rubber penis into my mouth. I licked the plum sized head and stretched my jaw open to accommodate the large toy.

“You like that don’t you?” Allison teased. “You like the thought of Scott’s fuckstick invading your virgin mouth?”

With my hands, I stroked the dildo, trying hard to imagine how Scott’s hard dick could be this big. “Please screw my tight throat,” I implored, “stretch my hole and fill me with your throbbing boner.”

As Allison thrust several inches down my gullet, I fought my gag reflex, my eyes starting to water. “Don’t worry sweetie,” she whispered, “it just seems impossible to deep throat a cock this big. Trust me, you can handle it. When my big rubber balls are bouncing off your chin, you’ll be begging for more.”

Allison sounded like a woman who knew her way around a big dick. I cranked my jaw open another few degrees and worked the last few inches down my throat. As I felt the hard rubber nutsack hit my chin, I felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment. I had throated Scott’s entire length.

“I wish Scott were here to see his good buddy impaled on his 9-inch boner,” Allison purred. “He’d either be really impressed, or he would beat the shit out of you.”

I took Allison’s rubber dick from my mouth, relaxing my aching jaw, “Is Scott really this big?”

“Scott’s hard dick is actually about a half inch longer than this replica,” she answered, “And his balls hang much lower in his sweaty nutsack.”

“Can you deep throat his entire length?” I asked, in awe that Allison could handle so much meat.

“I can and I do,” she replied, “in fact I do it every chance I get. I get off having him buried down my throat. I often reach orgasm while he fucks my face,” she announced proudly.

“You’re so lucky,” I moaned.

“Why do you think I went through with the tit job?” she continued. “I would do anything to please that big hunk of a man. He can be a royal prick sometimes, but his magnificent cock makes up for it.”

Looking down at my average six-inch tool, I had to ask another question, “Does it feel like he’s splitting you in two when you fuck?”

“It did at first,” she casually replied, “But I quickly learned to crave his fat sausage buried in my twat. But you wanna talk splitting-in-two, that stud can pack fudge like a professional.”

No fucking way, I thought. She couldn’t take a dick that big up her poop chute. “He fucks you in the butt with that baseball bat?”

“Oh yea, and I’m going to teach you to like it too.”

The thought repulsed my conservative mind, but looking down at my throbbing boner, it twitched with anticipation, a trickle of pre-cum leaking from my piss slit. 

“I see your cock likes the idea of riding my fat rubber dick,” Allison cooed, bending down to finally stroke my ignored penis. Her hand was so soft, and as she bent to my pecker, her incredible tits swayed inches from my face.




Covet Thy Neighbor's New Tits



“Go ahead, Wayne, touch them,” she offered. “After I stuff your cornhole, I’ll even let you fuck them. I love a hot, sticky load of spunk launched all over my new tits.”

The fear of her turd burglar resided as I became lost in the beauty of her breasts. They were indeed perfect. I couldn’t find any scarring and they felt incredibly natural. I cupped her breasts and buried my face between her luscious mounds, kissing the valley of her cleavage with a lust usually reserved for a woman’s clit.

“God your tits are fabulous,” I sighed. Her nipples were erect and hard, like miniature dicks, her left one pierced with a sexy silver ring. I sucked her nipples, running circles around each with my tongue.

“Bite them, Wayne,” she insisted, “harder, yeah and squeeze them. They aren’t as sensitive after the surgery. Scott loves how rough he can be without hurting me.”

While I played with her heavenly tits, Allison used the pre-cum leaking from my dick to lube her fingers before tracing her nails along the sensitive skin under my nuts, leading a trail to my anus. Her slick finger penetrated my backdoor, causing my dick to twitch with anticipation.

“Tell me how bad you want Scott to bend you over the bed and rape your virgin ass with his mancock,” she ordered.

As I briefly hesitated, she squeezed my cum-filled balls sharply, sending a sickening pain through my groin.

“Beg for an ass fucking you little man-pussy,” she commanded, pulling her heavenly breasts away from my hungry mouth.

Quickly reverting to my submissive mode, I answered, “Oh, Scott, I want your big hot cock to violate my virgin ass.”

Clearly pleased by my answer, Allison once again offered her heaving breasts to my waiting mouth. “Be a good boy and crawl up onto the bed,” she ordered, “and show me that tight ass that’s begging for a good, deep fucking.”

“Down on your elbows, bitch,” she insisted, as she jumped between my legs, her long sword dangling back and forth, protruding menacingly from her twat. She swatted my ass several hard smacks with the dildo as I presented my cherry ass for her inspection.


Looking back between my legs, I watched her grab Scott’s dick and rub it roughly up and down my ass crack. She gave my dick a couple of quick jerks, grabbing some more pre-cum to lube her rubber dick.

“Tell me how long you have craved Scott’s big boner in your butt,” she insisted.

“Scott, I have always dreamed of your big tool deflowering my tight ass. I can’t wait to feel your heavy balls bouncing off mine as you deep-dick my tight hole.” The words coming from my mouth startled me.

“I knew you were a closet queer, always scheming to get Scott’s big cock all to yourself,” Allison replied accusingly.

Allison positioned the huge dildo’s knob at my virgin sphincter, hawking a big loogie down my ass crack to further lube the oversized head.

“I’m gonna fuck you like a wild dog,” Allison screamed, “Training you to crave my huge pecker.”

With that, she leaned against my upturned ass, forcing the head of the dildo past my previously closed and locked backdoor. My ass burned and I tried to crawl forward, trying to disengage from the hot poker. But Allison had expected this and she held my hips firmly. As I tried to inch forward, my head hit the wall, my escape route effectively closed.

“Quit being a wimp,” Allison barked. “Take my cock like the faggot boy you are. Remember Scott’s real dick is bigger than this and I take it up my ass nightly. Trust me, it gets better. So much fucking better!”

Even as Allison raped my ass, she was challenging my manhood. Her strange psychological trick worked; I took the challenge and gritting my teeth leaned back against the protruding boner. Several inches disappeared down my hole, burning a path of devastation and destruction as it went. 

“Before I’m done with you, you’ll be barking like a dog in heat,” Allison grunted, applying more pressure to force the dildo down my tight hole.

“Allison…” I began.

Smack! She spanked my raised ass hard with her hand.

“It’s Scott fucking your ass, cum-bucket.”

“Sorry. Scott, I think you are splitting me in two,” I cried.

Ignoring my whining, Allison stuffed the remaining several inches of rubber cock up my ass. As I felt the rubber balls bounce against mine, Allison lay across my back, her tits sandwiched between our sweaty bodies. I could feel her nipples poking against my skin, the pierced ring digging into my back.

“How does it feel to have Scott’s man-sized cock filling your rectum?” she asked.

“I’ve never felt anything like it,” I moaned. “It hurts like hell, but I don’t want it to stop. I like having your huge cock buried in my butt.”

“I knew you would,” Allison sneered. “Now get ready for the fucking of your life.”

She withdrew the fat rubber toy until only the head was still buried in my man-twat before ramming the length back down my hole. I screamed as the long dildo bottomed out, barely catching my breath as she withdrew the rod and forced it repeatedly up my ass. She fucked me with the rhythm and power of a man.

“Oh fuck, Scott,” I moaned, “Your dick is making my ass come alive. I swear I feel your cock in my gut and my dick is buzzing.”

“Do you feel weak all over, with a tingling sensation in your toes and a dry mouth,” Allison asked.

“Yes, I do,” I moaned. “How did you know?”

“Been there, done that,” she laughed.

She continued to fuck my ass with a ferocious passion. I could feel sweat dripping on my back, her long hair brushing my backside as she thrashed her head back and forth.

“God, I never new what a feeling of power and control fucking a piece of ass would give me,” Allison groaned, her moaning growing increasing heavy and frantic. As she pounded my ass, the friction caused by the strap-on was driving her clit crazy. Nearing orgasm, she raped my ass with a possessed vigor.

“Fuck, Scott,” I muttered, “You’re cock is driving me mad.” Unsure whether it was Scott’s cock or Allison’s strap-on driving me insane, I let loose simply enjoying the deep dicking my ass was receiving. Allison reached around and tweaked my stiff nipples, sending new waves of pleasure through my body.

“Your ass is so fucking tight,” she exhaled, “I can’t hold out much longer.”

Grabbing my hips roughly, orgasm clearly racking her body, she pumped a final deep thrust up my ass and screamed, “I’m cummmmmminngggggggggg!”

She collapsed on top of me, her rapid heartbeat pulsing against my back. My legs gave out and I crashed stomach down on the bed, my still raging boner trapped under our combined weight, Scott’s cock still buried in my pooper. 

“That was amazing, Wayne” Allison whispered in my ear. “I felt so powerful and in control. I loved fucking your virgin ass. Scott would never allow me to violate his butt. He is too damn macho.”

“I need more,” I panted. “I love having your hard cock buried in my man-pussy. I am your dick slut and I crave your big tool.”

“Told you a big dick had special powers,” Allison giggled. “I only wish I had a big sticky load to pump up your ass. I love when Scott explodes deep in my bowels; I can feel each and every spurt as he unloads his powerful jets of jizz.”

Allison rolled off my back, her ass master plopping from my stretched hole. “Speaking of hot sticky loads, you wanna fuck my tits and cum in my mouth? I love the taste of fresh spooge!”

I jumped at the chance to fuck her new tits. As I straddled her prone body, my ass twitched as her rubber dick brushed against my sore butt. 

“Put it here, my little butt-slut,” Allison teased, squeezing her mounds together, creating a tempting tit-cunt. As I slipped my pecker between her trophy breasts, she leaned down to lick the head of my throbbing cock.

“Oh, yea Wayne, fuck my new boobs with your little boner. I want you to shoot your load all over my nipples and face.”

Her nasty talk and the recent ass fucking had me rapidly approaching the point of no return.

“I can’t last long, Allison,” I said apologetically.

“Good,” she moaned, “cause I can’t wait to taste your milky spunk.”

With several final thrusts, my dick exploded, coating her tits and face with the biggest load of my life. She leaned down, engulfing my cockhead in her wet mouth, swallowing the last several jets straight down her eager throat.

She licked the remainder from her face and tits, smacking her lips and moaning approvingly. “Your spunk is tasty,” she announced. “I can’t wait for course number two.”

“Course two?” I asked, quizzically. 

Looking at the bedside clock, Allison smiled, “My plane doesn’t leave for nine more hours, and my dick doesn’t need any recovery time. Besides I bought a couple more toys I want to try out. Do you have any batteries?”

The dull ache in my butt throbbed as I realized my first ass fucking wasn’t going to be my last.