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Gamin

By: endthedream



He was gamin. He was an exchange student from Paris. His hair was night dark. His face was shaped like a fox's. A box of summer in it. Bright black eyes that looked perpetually startled, as though he were a boy who knew Christmas lights were tomorrow, and they would always be for him, without the resonant arrogance, without the resident precipitation that he might have had; a turning, a sweet touch of shoulder bare; a suggestion of shadow when his narrow chin lent downward; a surreptitious smile that always seemed to extend a bit of uncertainty; somehow, he know everything was his; at the same time, not being sure of it. Elegance. Eloquence. A slow deer like walking, his slim body cross campus. 

A serious boy. Not used to life, though he had lived 19 years of it. Someone who carried his stars in his heart and would not let the secrets out; for he seemed to have many secrets; he seemed an illusion that was most real; especially on this cold winter's night, as we lay together in our dorm room. As he had his arm, long and particular, draped over my shoulders, and I, his. I, the same, and never the same. Trying to capture him on the film of my mind. Trying to see the touch of my fingers down his thin small boxy cheeks, touching the tip of his perfect nose; pale, his flesh, and rose, his lips, and he giggled, and he said French love words I on purpose did not understand, for I wanted him to be everything and everyone in the world. I did not want to know too much. Then I would lose everything.

I wanted him to have carried the City of Lights all this distance to Far America with him. His hair was a dark birds nest now, for we had finished for a time, making love, in my small bed, with the winter wind howling outside, and the heat in our room far too hot and not under our control. I touched his shoulder bones.

I touched the nape of his neck, and felt the hollow where the Adams' apple was not; and I amazed at him, and rejoiced at him; I thought he was not totally human; that the way he hunched his shoulders a bit when he walked or when he was reading or studying was his way of hiding out from some federal agencies, the MIBs maybe, after him, searching for this ethereal feather of love that held supine now and giggled as I blew breathe hot on his neck, and he turned his head to me, without turning neck or body; as I looked into his eyes; in which there seemed to be whole worlds; whole galaxies; whole civilizations that were done in miniature; that were done with the sharp precision of the soap texture and the warm texture and the sharp edges of the framework under his neck; of the edge of his shoulders; of his back bone; of his knee caps; of his fox face.

And yet, soft, all soft, and he put a finger to his lips and smiled and broke a million hearts at that very instant, that did not know why they were broken, only that they were; and only he and I could ever tell them; but they would not believe.

We entangled each other.

We were each other's late winter's majesties, and when he talked, he had Colette in his voice, and he had Rousseau in his eyes; this roundabout boy who encircled my chest and back as we lay now facing each other; I imagined seeing him on his bicycle riding down the streets of early morning Blue Paris, going after some just baked bread loaves, to put in his satchel, and the streets wet with the morning mist, or the night's rain, all cottony and fresh and new and springy and vibrant, and a long deep breath from his just long enough nose, and his hands on the bike handles, sure and swift, and guiding, with his sandals on the pedals.

He, seeing in his wonder of eyes all the details of swift panorama, the hovels, the hotels, the cafes, the tables, the stalls, the streets, the early passers by, for his eyes needed to take in the world, and thus saw a vast vista of it when others' eyes did not, because he drank the world in; he was a living proof that miracles can occur, and the sidewalk peddlers shouted out his name, Emil, Emil, and there was his waving at them with grace and ease and a total lack of hubris.

As he the boy become young man; he the man who was with me as he touched little nights in me; as he touched little words and phrases that sounded like earth being conquered by little angels on the wing straight from Easter clouds lambent above; as he pushed into my chest his hands and pulled himself away, as if on a trapeze; and he dangled and I loved him; and the serious smile of his made me smile back, and made my smile feel bumpkinesque, as his hands were pure and firm and pale and I put my too large hands on the top of his head, to his warm nest of bunched hair, to his warm nest of head and face; then I kissed his lips, and drank of him; for the world was a celebration; for the world was an indentation before him, before we were locked into having the same room; before the doubt and the fear and the secret imaginings, thus caught, like love birds at rest and play, and no longer alone.

As I held Paris inside him, as I walked to the book stalls on the sidewalks, as I had a sidewalk painter draw my love's face, and carried it in the pocket of my shirt forever and a day, changing it to each shirt pocket, every single morning, making the shirts one, making him one, and me one, and all the fevers and all the nights when I thought he was sick and weeping in his bed, behind the desk divider, and he came to me this night and he held me and we traced our history on each other's bodies, for we had been lovers for four months.

There was a treasure in his long bony pale nippled chest, that I played my hands on, and touched so felicitously, that I touched his chest and worshipped him as he lay now on his back, and ruffled his hands through my too long brown hair, as I put my head to his naked chest, and he whispered words of love in French; he once asked me, didn't I want to know what he said at these times, when he spoke to me, and I said, no, Emil, no, for that would spoil it, for you are a surprise, and I never want to know the entirety of the surprise, for I could not bear it if I did, and he raised my head, and I looked into his very serious, very black eyed face, and his hair mussed to the edge of his eyes; his eyebrows cocked as in a quiz, as if he were studying me, as hard as I was studying him, and he lay on top of me, and we rolled about as best we could in my narrow dorm bed, and I held him and I felt him and I marveled at a sequence of events that could have come together to make him, and could have then come to make him mine.

For even naked, he looked proper; for even the first time for both of us, he looked as though he were the master, a kindly one, a patient one, and he led me as I led him and he was not clumsy as I; as he improved on me and taught me that Paris nights were soft even when cold and the snow fell at winter times, and there was a quiet snow fall of lowing of songs off in a distance; the Right Bank or the Left; this avenue or that; a quoissant or just a cup of coffee in the morning, as the sun broke through the lattice windows and the world was alive with beggars and street merchants, and it was as though the whole world were perched on forever, and he could fly, if he wanted to, there naked, in his room in Paris, unashamed, aware, turning, and profound.

And with features that said definite; with features that said alliance, that said hands touching as they did that first night when I braved myself to go to his bed in the dark, and found him indeed crying, and I sat on his bed edge, and he turned to me; and he held me, and our hands touched, as though from a million miles and a million lifetimes away; we were safe; and this new world he had come to; that he had been so terribly brave about; that had truthfully hobbled him in panic; relaxed, and his fingers interlocked with mine, and he spoke the first French words I had heard him say; all along it had been English words for him, pronounced with that sweet peach piquant accent that made him sound as though he were precisely advancing vowels and adjectives; said so perfectly; so distinctly; so as if analyzing every syllable, every word, every noun, like my name for instance.

Roaming it round in his mouth with his pink warm tipped tongue, and deciding how he liked those foreign words in that tunnel of teeth; he with the spider crawl to my bed in the nights after that, and jumping on board, his weightless body, and knocking the wind out of me, and we were together, as I touched his penis and he touched mine; and we became hard together, and we learned what the other liked the best, and that was—everything—and I felt the weight of him, the heat of him, as he did of me as well. As we discovered that topography of flesh and bodies is more real than topography of geography of the world.

And it was an akimbo that led us to the offering place of each other. And this early morning as shadows fell in the Parisian world he had brought with him, the paintings, the fresh early morning Cocteau blues and bright greens and reds, the sweets he had eaten with the other children when he was a child, that he always made sure to share with them; the way his hand waved majesty and with precognition on bike rides when it seemed everyone knew him, and he everyone.

How he loved to visit his uncle in the country in summer, where he loved to ride on the back of the field hands' hay wagon, and at night, to lie on the grass and look up at his own particular starry, starry night. 

And see the skies that he stole from up there for his own, as I touched him now, and here was his shoulder and warm, and Clichy, and here was his left buttock so narrow and bony, and this was the Tropic of Capricorn, and here was the center of him, and that was The Thief's Journal, and here was the Seine as it ripped along under bridges upon which lovers walked and soft music played Charades for them, and for us.

And here was the all of Emil, full and wise and noble and all of himself forevermore, and here was Emil tracing me, and finding in me Western movies, his favorite kind, and horror novels, he loved of all writers, John Saul, the best; his first time with an American hamburger at Wendy's, spare no expense on our first date, there as he touched to my touchy ticklish stomach, and he was all giggle boxes turned over; and he was room for love; and it was close to Christmas.

It was close to the present I was to give him, the complete annotated two-volume set of Baring-Gould's massively beautiful volumes of all Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories. He loved Holmes movies and I had gotten him addicted to the stories. He would read them to me at night in French and I would try to guess which one it was. Of course he would have to tell me and I would try, and fail, to follow along, though I loved Holmes as well, all those foggy London nights, as inside 221B Baker Street, Holmes played his violin and smoked his pipe, as Watson wrote the latest story for the Strand, each knowing their housekeeper would be showing a frazzled Lestrade into their rooms at any minute, and they would be off on another harrowing adventure. Oh you should have seen Emil acting out the characters as he read them. It was so incredibly funny. So frenetic and studious at the same time, he was. And laughing all the way.

And in a few hours, the boy of boxed wonders, this boy of kites flown into skies different than yours or mine, once upon a time, that is, and I, would touch each other and magic scarves would erupt, and priapism would be a world unto a Parisian carnival in the snow and we would ride round each other, on our devices of horses and satyrs and fauns, and we would be dressed for sex, and the music would be Debussy and it would cause sadness in his eyes and we would make love then, getting off the slow and slower merry go round, and I would let him lie atop me for he was by far the lighter, and he would bring his box of face down and he wound annotate me with him, and then we would drift to magic sleep, one of us at least, to wake up on the floor, thanks to that narrow bed.

Then, amazed we were still here, and our ablutions, then we would shower together and soap and I would think him indeed an alien, kneeling to him, Emil, someone that had never ever been before, and as we began again, as we lay in each other's arms and I said Cherbourg, as he looked at me and smiled, for the first time, a really huge delighted somewhat sweetly sappy smile, for I had said a word in his native language; I had honored him; I had brought home to him, in my poor pronunciation, and he joyed his arms around me and held me tighter than ever before—

--and it was like I had already given him the annotated Holmes; and I saw how I had hurt him all this time by not learning his words and what they taught to me, knowing now that I would study them from now on, and be precise in my hearing and with his much needed help, in the saying of his tongue, though I would be a million miles from the poetry he made of words, in French, and in English; oh take me with you when you go back to your home planet of France; don't leave me here, without you, for it will be unbearable, and he said Cherbourg and Cherbourg again and laughed and wiggled and pulled my face down to his as we kissed and drank each other, and he held me and I held him and I bent downward to kiss his chest, and then downward further, thinking of that old lovely French film, "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg" with the radiant Catherine Deneuve, and the sad, alas, ending, in the impossibly real colors of Paris that only lovers can see, in the sheer joy of romance, in the city of Lights and the city of Love, and as I took Emil in my mouth, I heard him singing softly, the first time I had ever heard him sing, as if Heaven could not be more beautiful; he sang in French, but I knew the words for I knew the melody, from that movie; and I translated the lyrics in my mind as he sang them, between sigh and soft gasp, "If it takes forever, I will wait for you, through a thousand summers I will wait for you.."

And neither of us had to wait any longer. Not any longer.

We were home.

Gamine and Gambler



AUTHOR'S NOTE: 

Thank you for reading GAMINE AND GAMBLER. Selecting a category was difficult because of several different genre overlaps. Those who have read other Literotica stories of mine may recognize Nicholas Kane and the Sheikh from ANNALS OF POTENTATE III, WHERE WOMEN WORHIP THE SERPENT and THE PHANTOM PILOT. Although those stories take place in different centuries and on other planets, the Sheikh and Kane characters are the same people in GAMINE AND GAMBLER. Five Eight and his Literotica fictional universe sincerely hope all of you are in range of Cupid's bow this Valentine's Day. 

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

Tracy Somerset's breasts trembled sweetly when she bent over the crap table. As she placed a fistful of paper money on the green felt one of them almost wiggled free of the décolletage of her evening gown.

Nicholas Kane, confirmed ass man, damn near got converted to a tit man on the spot by those sensational mammaries. Tracy, beautiful daughter of plantation owner Colonel Terrence Somerset, also possessed a deliciously developed backside, a distraction as big as her breasts. But Kane was working and could only pay those assets minimal attention. If he blew this assignment he'd not only lose the Sheikh's money he gambled with so freely, but his life.

Should he run afoul of the men managing the tables they'd hang him faster than a runaway slave. If they didn't, the man in the gray uniform at the bar would.

Despite the danger Kane couldn't help himself, eyes darting to steal one more glimpse at Tracy. The brown tops of both nipples were visible above her plunging bodice. Only the erect tips poking through the silk prevented the dress from sliding down around her slender waist. Her gown must have cost her old man a pretty penny, so sheer Kane had imagined he could see through it. The champagne-colored material fit tight as a drumskin around her hips. The young lady deigned not to wear a bustle, or undergarments either.

Kane, like every other man and woman in the casino of the riverboat, had seen the dark triangle of Tracy's pubic hair when she'd made her entrance from the promenade deck at sunset. The blaze of light behind her streamed through the thin gown and rendered it nearly invisible.

Definitely nothing under that dress except Tracy, Kane thought when she strutted buoyantly into the casino.

One grande dame had uttered loudly enough for him to overhear the withered hag drawl, "Such a pity Colonel Somerset's daughter has all that blonde hair on her head, but that scraggly black bush between her legs."

Kane had grinned, as had others privy to the jealous old biddy's remark.

Even with her long locks and obvious womanly charm, a hint of the gamine lurked in Tracy. She had a head of hair, elaborately coiffed and curled, unfurling around her delicate shoulders and down her back. She had a big bodyguard too, a stone-faced bloke in a fancy Confederate Army sergeant's uniform. He remained a discreet distance behind his charge and probably no one took much note of him. But Kane did. He needed to; the bully outweighed him by fifty pounds and stood half a foot taller than him. Kane watched the man park himself at the bar where he could survey the width and breadth of the gaming room and intervene should anyone approach Tracy with bad intent.

She'd ignored the bodyguard and everyone else in the casino, sweeping over to the crap table like Kane had known she would. Earlier his source of information told him dice was her game. When she'd placed her money on the table the boxman exchanged it for stacks of chips and Tracy joined the game. For the first hour Kane acclimated himself with the way she played. He also noted Tracy did not drink mint juleps. She partook of whiskey and hectored a colored indentured servant to bring her drink after drink. She drank a lot, but won a lot. People began to drop out of the game. Kane stayed. The stickman continually slid chips in front of the girl until she'd amassed several untidy teetering pagodas of them.

She seemed quite self-absorbed and impressed with herself, especially her hair. Between rolls she fussed with it incessantly, combing her fingers through the curls, repeatedly glancing at her reflection in the big mirror behind the bar, admiring her perfection. Tracy was doubtless as proud of her lustrous tresses as she was those breasts of hers she kept shaking and jiggling around. Kane couldn't find it in himself to begrudge the aloof wench one iota. A veritable feast for the eyes: every man in the casino obviously wanted to lift up the hem of her gown to bury his love muscle in the warm tightness of the shimmying bottom she wagged about as much as her tits; likewise every woman present wanted to bury a dagger between them.

Lust and jealousy, reflected Kane with an ill-concealed smirk, the age old maladies of the human animal. But he was different, not that he didn't want to fuck Tracy senseless. He did. The only difference was Kane was going to get to have his way with the little slut; the men clustered around the roulette wheel and card tables were not.

Her bodyguard met Kane's eye, but Kane remained unworried, the brute watched everyone at Tracy's table closely. Kane kept his face blank as he thumbed a wooden match alight and lit a thin cheroot, exhaled a nonchalant cloud of blue smoke. While replacing the small box of matches in the side pocket of his black velvet frockcoat he palmed a pair of loaded dice. He tucked them into his burgundy cummerbund unseen and rested his now empty right hand casually on the carved lip of the mahogany dice table. 

Sweat filmed on his forehead and above his upper lip, easily explainable by the heat of the room should anyone be paying him undue attention, or the Confederate sergeant at the bar suspect anything. The fellow was not Kane's sole cause of concern. The men operating the Mississippi gambling ship would kill him for cheating, just like Colonel Somerset's goon if Kane touched a hair on the head of his only daughter. Kane didn't need to cheat for money; the Sheikh always funded him well. He just needed to beat Tracy and put her in his debt somehow.

A damnable dangerous game he played that evening.

His turn to roll the bones again came around and Tracy bet a dozen chips that he'd crap out. Conceited shit, acting like a bloody queen as if those around her were her subjects and, as such, beneath her. She noticed Kane; licking those swollen pouting lips of hers and favoring him with a sly glance now and again. He guessed her crotch was wet indeed from all the attention she studiously ignored. In his lifetime he'd tumbled enough wives and daughters to know the female of the species found him attractive. For the last quarter century more women than he could count had kept his cock coated with saliva and vaginal secretions. Unlike Tracy he tried not to act snobbish, not always succeeding. But Kane didn't take his good looks for granted and worked to maintain them. The Sheikh employed him because of them too, among other things. 

The game continued. Tracy finished another whiskey and dispatched the beleaguered servant to the bar for another. She appeared sober and very much in control. When the dice went out of play for a minute Kane decided to employ a spot of charm.

He smiled a smile just shy of a leer across the table at her and essayed some polite banter. "You play well, Miss Somerset. It's my misfortune to have you on the other side of table this evening."

"I always play to win, sir," she answered without a glance his way.

"As do I," he said with brash confidence.

She condescended to look at him. "You have me at a disadvantage."

Kane stared pointedly at the flesh barely contained in Tracy's bodice. Christ, he couldn't wait to sink to the hilt in the tight declivity sweetening itself between her thighs.

"How so, Miss Somerset?" he asked her with great deference.

"You know my name but I don't know yours." She gave a quick nervous tug to her décolletage as if just then noticing her nipples on almost complete display. A fine sheen of perspiration shone in the valley of her breasts.

"Forgive me if I've been forward in speaking your name. You're Colonel Somerset's daughter, I thought it common knowledge. Since you've come of age you've already made an impression from New Orleans to Charleston."

"Thank you, sir, but I still don't know your name," she said, her tone arch.

"I beg your pardon, ma'am." He stuck his cigar back in his mouth to free his right hand to reach across the table and shake Tracy's. "Nicholas Kane, at your service."

His gesture and subdued words had the desired affect. The girl actually smiled. "I thought I knew most of the riverboat gamblers on the Mississippi. But you're not from these parts, are you? Not with that English accent."

"You are as perceptive as you are lovely, Miss Somerset."

"Thank you, Mister Kane. What brings you to Louisiana?"

Kane decided to tell the truth and gave Tracy a vague reply. "I oversee certain interests of various businessmen abroad. In three weeks I set sail from Boston to return home."

"What kind of interests?" she wanted to know.

"Property, stocks, that sort of thing." He neglected to mention various other duties.

"Interesting," commented Tracy, uninterested, and took a sip from her glass. Typical.

The stickman announced the dice in play again, ending the conversation.

Kane knew about a flaw yet to be fixed in craps, a European game less than fifty years old in the States. Before embarking on his current mission the Sheikh's experts taught him the craps wagering system where he could exploit the flaw through the use of loaded dice. Kane's teachers assured him of the safety of the cheat. The Don't Pass line hadn't been implemented prior to the Civil War which, if Kane had his history straight, would officially begin exactly two months to the day when the Confederacy attacked Fort Sumter. He could roll sevens all night long and strip Tracy of her money before he stripped her out of that gossamer thin gown. A dangerous game!

But Tracy got on a hot streak rolling seven after seven and took him to the proverbial cleaners. Instead of fretting about all of his chips being pushed to her side of the table with the stick, Kane exhaled in sudden relief. The girl apparently knew about the same cheat he did; she had to be playing with loaded dice. Kane could leave his own in his cummerbund and not risk being caught cheating. Things couldn't have worked out better had the old Sheikh scripted this turn of events himself.

Should Kane expose her? No, not on this brief excursion. Despite the chintzy Valentine's Day decorations everywhere, they were aboard a riverboat where gambling integrity took precedence over holidays. The boxman and the stickman both acted unaware of her crooked shenanigans. If Kane caused a public outcry Tracy might be whisked from the casino and detained out of his grasp in one of the compartments topside on the Texas deck of the paddlewheeler. But what to do before the other gamblers or the riverboat's management got wise? His brow furrowed in thought. Finally a viable solution occurred to him before he forfeited many more dollars.

Kane raised a finger to catch the boxman's eye. "I'm out, my good man," he muttered, stepping back from the table.

Tracy spoke. "So soon? Things were beginning to get interesting."

No shit, she'd won over three hundred bucks. That would go over well when he presented his expense report to the Sheikh.

While the boxman converted his remaining chips back to dollars Kane ambled around the table to stand next to Tracy Somerset, wealthy debutant.

The girl smelled of expensive perfume, and another underlying effluvium. One more subtle, more intoxicating, the one he'd only guessed at earlier. Being correct in his assumption only bolstered his confidence. He couldn't keep a smile off his lips when that second scent swirled in his nostrils. It made Kane as hard as he'd ever been. He placed a familiar hand on the small of her back, inching downward until his palm rested on the swell of her delicious behind. His fingertips drifted across her left bottom cheek to her right one, lingering in the valley separating the two. If the sun shining through her flimsy gown revealing the nest of hair on her pubis earlier hadn't provided enough of a clue, Kane knew for certain now he'd also been correct assuming she wore nothing underneath her dress. The knowledge she had no panties on caused his stiffness to throb all the more. He felt a shudder pass through her and she squeezed her thighs together.

Tracy whispered hotly, "What do you want, Mister Kane?"

"Why not just call me Nick, sweetheart? And I know you know what I want."

The young whore surprised him by blushing. Still speaking in a whisper she said, "Why don't I just call you Mister Kane and you put your hand back where it belongs?"

He watched over her shoulder as the sergeant stepped away from the bar and made a surreptitious yet purposeful beeline toward them. Kane had maybe ten seconds to deliver his ultimatum before the bully would be on top of them, breathing down his neck.

He said in her ear, "Now see here, young lady, I'm going to pass you a pair of clean dice in exchange for the loaded ones you've been cheating with so you don't get caught with them in your hot little hand."

The color drained from her flushed face and Tracy swallowed visibly. She began to stammer, "You don't know what you're talking--"

He interrupted her lie. "Don't insult me by denying it. The Somerset reputation is on the line here, missy."

She glared at him, her big brown eyes hard as diamonds.

"Shut up and give me the damned dice," he ordered as her bodyguard laid a huge paw on his shoulder. "And tell this chap to get his mitt off me."

Tracy swallowed again but said quickly, "Lee, what do you think you're doing? This man is a friend, unhand him."

Lee the bodyguard ignored Kane and rumbled to Tracy, "But isn't he bothering you, Miss Somerset?"

"We were just talking, you overlarge oaf, like women and men will do, especially on Saint Valentine's Day."

"They often do more than talk," essayed the sergeant. 

"Quit causing a scene, Lee, people are starting to stare."

She must've been used to giving orders and the man in the brand new uniform used to obeying her commands because he removed his hand. Not in a hurry by any stretch of the imagination, but he withdrew it and let it hang by his side.

"Go back to the bar, Lee, now!" Tracy hissed under her breath, but folks all over the casino eyed the three of them anyway. "I'll call you if I need any help."

"I don't like the looks of this man, Miss--"

"Do as I say, Lee. You don't want me to have to complain to daddy, do you?"

"Miss Somerset, this fellow is obviously--"

She cut him off. "Don't sass me," she said menacingly with a slight jerk of her head toward the far side of the casino, its walls pasted with paper red hearts and pink Cupids for the occasion.

The man risked her wrath, "I'll be right over there then if you need--"

"I know you will, Lee. Thank you, Lee." Tracy smiled meanly at the man, exasperated.

When he retreated Kane said to her, "You're smart, Tracy, and quicker on your feet than I'd've given you credit for."

The girl simply glared. She leveled her glare on several people looking in her direction and they turned their heads away.

"You do have a commanding presence about you, my dear."

"So do you, Mister . . ."

"Nick," Kane said firmly. Then he grinned and extended a hand. "And now, the dice."

Tracy pressed them into his palm, close enough to him to press her quivering bosom into his chest. He smiled wider, assured he'd be cupping those magnificent mounds very soon.

"Miss Somerset," the stickman called to Tracy, "Do you want to place another bet? It's your roll."

Tracy glanced at Kane and read his eyes. He'd hardened them as she had hardened hers a moment ago. "I'll pass," she said with her back to the stickman.

"Wise decision," Kane murmured in her ear. He gave her wonderful bottom a licentious squeeze.

She began to get mad, but thought twice and her features softened. Color seeped back into her face.

"Wise decision," he said again.

"You're repeating yourself," she said with a crooked smile on her face.

Excellent, thought Kane, she was flirting with him now. Not that it would do her any good. She could pour on all the considerable charm she had at her disposal and it wouldn't do her a bit of good. Not a goddam bit.

"Collect your money and let's go."

Tracy did as she was told. She conducted a whispered conversation with the stickman before cramming a fat wad bills in a pearl-sewn evening bag.

"Where do you want to go, Nick?" she asked playfully, rubbing her tits against his chest once again. "We're in the middle of the Mississippi River." She positively exuded charm now.

More than one large surprise lay ahead for this wench.

~~~

"Thank you for not making any trouble for me," she said when he linked his left arm through her right and led her to the casino bar.

He just nodded, "It wouldn't do on a day as traditionally romantic as this."

What a gentleman, she thought, a tad wicked perhaps but definitely unlike any of the boring suitors who'd called on her at the plantation since she came of age six months ago. And the men her father tried in vain to attach to her failed to compare. She bossed them around like she did her doting father, a strong domineering man with everyone else including her mother. Tracy had had daddy wrapped around her finger like so much limp twine for as long as she could remember. Her haughty demeanor derived from his side of the family to be sure; her fondness of whiskey came from her mother.

Tracy wanted, no, needed a strong man like daddy to control her. Not the daddy who refused to buy her a new dress or horse or withholding her allowance for some minor infraction, but the way daddy was when issuing orders to his soldiers, household staff or slaves. She would be infinitely bored with any man she could tame. A real man took what he wanted and brooked no nonsense from womenfolk. Nick might just be that man. She'd been sneaking glances at him all night when he'd not been looking; desired him since she first spotted him at the crap table. He appeared so dashing swaggering about in his cravat, starched frilled shirt, jodhpurs and polished high boots. With thick brown hair that curled on the ends and muttonchops he was every inch the riverboat gambler, mysterious, handsome, a little cruel maybe. She could feel his muscles when he'd linked arms with her.

Nick would be very strong. Would he be a good kisser?

She wondered how strong he'd be in between her legs; she planned to test his mettle right away to find out if he could handle her. The thought served to make her wetter still. All the whiskey she'd consumed made her amorous. Juice oozed out of her for the past two hours till the insides of her thighs stuck together. Tracy would absolutely let Nick take her if he played his cards right.

Daddy thought his little girl a virgin, but she wasn't. She'd slept with two other men, boys really, one last year and the other just this spring. They disappointed her in the romance department. Daddy would horsewhip them if he knew. Nick would take away his braided rawhide whip and shove it up her father's ass if he tried that with him. He just had to be a man of experience, confidence gleamed in his eyes. She'd wager he bedded any woman he winked at, and used them long and well. Tracy's pussy dribbled even more just thinking about it, she deliberately swiveled around to mash a breast into Nick's arm.

She knew he had to feel it, her nipples were hard as stone, and he enjoyed it but didn't try to grope her like other men of her acquaintance. "What do you have in mind, Nick?" she asked coyly with a bat of her long eyelashes.




Gamine and Gambler



"A stroll on the deck, take some air."

Tracy adored his English accent. "Will you buy me something to drink first?" she asked in her best purr. "I'm a tad thirsty."

"I never met a southern belle who wasn't," he remarked. "But I ought to make you pay after all the money you won from me. Your purse is bulging at its seams."

Good, she thought, he was going to be a challenge!

She said coyly, "I can afford to, but how would that look? Me paying for our refreshments? It's simply not done."

"Fine," Nick conceded, "I'll buy then."

His answer disappointed her, but he walked right up to the bar not six feet away from where Lee stared a hole through him. Nick acted like the big man wasn't even there. Tracy was impressed. In a fair fistfight Nick could probably handle her daddy, but no man could handle Lee. Not even the black bucks on the plantation.

When the man made a move toward them Tracy stopped him with a dirty look. "Relax, Lee, have a drink. Nick and I are going to take a stroll around the boat."

"You know I don't drink, Miss Somerset, and I don't think you should have another drink either."

"I forgot you're a good Baptist. But it really doesn't matter to me what you think. Stay in here and sulk for all I care."

"The colonel told me not to let you out of my sight."

"Daddy always says that, Lee,' she whined. "Where can Nick and I go, for God's sake? We're on a boat in the middle of a big ole river. You know this isn't some upriver journey, it's a gambling cruise; we pull back into New Orleans at dawn." She stood in front of Nick with her back to Lee to act as a barrier between them. Her forefinger suggestively traced the row of black pearl buttons on his ruffled shirtfront. "Nick, you don't plan to throw me overboard, do you?"

"Farthest thing from my mind, love," he said before ordering two whiskey and sodas from the barkeep.

Lee rumbled in that deep voice of his: "I'll follow along behind to make sure this foreigner doesn't get up to any tricks. I won't eavesdrop on ya'll's conversation. I'll be like a . . what are they called . . . like a chaperone."

"No, you won't!" she snapped. "You stay here and don't embarrass me in front of this gentleman."

"He don't look like no gentleman to me."

"Lee, do as I say!" Tracy raised her voice. "Stay put. We'll be back in just a little while."

Lee didn't say yes or no, but she felt his eyes burning against her back as Nick and she walked away. She carried her purse and drink in one hand so they could link arms again. Outside they unlinked and he put his arm around her possessively even though the early February night air wasn't cool, if anything it was humid. They walked down the outer promenade deck that wound like a porch all the way around the paddlewheeler. They were not the only couple out for a romantic stroll along the walkway. As the two of them lingered at the railing to sip at their whiskies she wondered if he had a stateroom on the Texas deck above them. How convenient that would be!

Nick said idly, "Your chaperone is following us."

"That fucker," she snarled shooting a glance past Nick. Lee stopped in his tracks when he saw her, propped himself against the rail pretending to gaze at the lights on the shoreline a mile or so in the distance.

"My, my," said Nick.

"What?" she asked, deliberately making cow eyes at him.

"Such language from a little girl," he grinned.

She chided him to see how he'd react. "In case you haven't noticed, mister, I'm not a little girl."

"To me you are."

Good, she thought, he didn't apologize, just took a pull from his glass. "And what exactly do you mean by that?" She bent forward enough to make sure her bodice hung away from her breasts so he could see them, nipples and all. Now more juice leaked between her thighs in a big way; few men affected her that way.

"I mean I'm more than twice your age."

"Age doesn't mean anything to me. I've been with a man older than you before," she fibbed.

He chuckled. "I thought you might be a virgin."

She punched his arm. "What gave you that idea?"

He nodded Lee's way. "Colonel Somerset apparently has you watched like a hawk. Do you ever get any time alone to yourself?"

"Are you worried about Lee?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Then why don't you kiss me then?"

"Would you like that?"

"Why don't you try it and see for yourself."

"Maybe this isn't the time and the place," he said smoothly.

"We're under a lovely moon and it is Saint Valentine's Day. It doesn't get much more romantic than this."

"Who said I'm after romance, as you call it?"

"Then what are you after? Do you want your fucking money back?"

Every man she knew would've backed down then; tiptoed around her attitude in hopes of making love to her. But Nick smiled instead, earning more points on her mental scorecard. He said easily, "If I couldn't afford to lose it shooting dice I wouldn't have brought it aboard."

"Then why don't you kiss me? I'll be damned if I'm going to pay you to."

Nick's smile changed to a grin. "Let me ask you a question first, I'm curious about something."

"And what would that be, kind sir."

He chuckled and took another drink of his whiskey. "I may not be as kind as you think I am once you get to know me."

"That sounds exciting."

"Maybe. What I wanted to ask you is why do you cheat at craps?"

"That's a dangerous assumption."

"What am I assuming? You do cheat, admit it."

"Oh, I admit that. Don't assume because my father's a rich landowner that he lavishes money and gifts on me. That's very much not true. He's very stingy, in fact. I didn't speak to him for three days until he agreed to buy me this dress to wear on this all night jaunt." She paused to wet her lips with her tongue. "And allowing me to take this short little cruise, well, let me just say that was another battle altogether."

"But you won it."

"I told you I play to win."

Nick grinned, "Yes, you did tell me that, didn't you?"

"Uh huh. So that leaves the question: are you going to kiss me or not?"

"Now you're speaking my language." He stooped down to set his glass on the deck and took her in his arms.

"Wait a second, Nick," she said.

"Are you trying to tease me, Tracy? Stop leading me on."

"I'm not leading you on."

Nick flirted well. 

He asked: "What do you call it then?"

"Suspense," she said in her best coquette voice. Nick and the whiskey were having quite an effect on her about then. She drained the contents of her glass and hurled it into the river, looped her arms around his neck. "Now I'm ready for that kiss."

"I can tell," he said and kissed her deeply.

His hands slid down to her ass and squeezed her body against his. She sighed. Nick's physical reaction to her was everything she hoped for.

"You're hard as a railroad spike." Big as one too! "Do you have to pee or something?"

He laughed out loud at her remark. "The answer to that, little missy, would be 'or something,'" he said and kissed her again.

She'd been right, he kissed well.

He gripped her behind even tighter during the kiss and grinded against her. She ground back. My God, she thought, I'm getting a tad dizzy. When he broke the kiss she saw Lee heading their way. "Shit!" she groaned.

"What?"

"Take one guess, Romeo."

"Does thou bodyguard approacheth, Juliet?"

"Thou arth correct," she giggled drunkenly, mashing her chest against him and grinding against his top notch crotch again.

"What do you want to do?" asked Nick peering back over his shoulder.

She nibbled at his ear saying, "I want to be alone is what I want to do, darling, and Sergeant Strict himself is fifteen feet away."

"And on today of all days," Nick said whimsically.

"Get away from Miss Somerset, you mountebank," barked Lee.

Tracy disengaged herself and took a step toward the big man.

"I told you not to follow us, you louse. Go back in the casino and wait like I told you to!"

"I can't."

"And why not?"

"Just following orders, Miss Somerset."

"Well, I'm ordering you to get the hell away from me."

"I take orders from the colonel," said Lee. "He wouldn't want this for you."

Tracy showed him the rough side of her tongue. "I'm an adult now in case you've forgotten."

Lee stopped and started to speak, but couldn't find any words.

Tracy continued, "We're hardly alone, you fool, there are other people walking around, for Christ's sake!"

"You're drunk, Miss Somerset, and you're not thinking straight. You need to come with me. Your father would disapprove."

"Daddy doesn't want me to die an old maid!"

Lee put out one of his ham-sized hands, indicating she needed to accompany him back into the casino.

"I said leave us alone!" Tracy shouted. With her pearl-sewn handbag she angrily slapped Lee's face using all her strength. She whipped the bag backhanded in a blind fury, pelting him on the other side of his jaw. That heavy purse had to have hurt, but the blows didn't faze him; a fly might've landed on his cheek for all the emotion in Lee's eyes. People stopped their strolling and watched the scene, but nobody challenged Lee. Tracy spun on her heel and took Nick by the hand. "Come on," she said vehemently and began to drag him away.

Lee stayed where he was, unsure of how to respond, surrounded by onlookers. Tracy searched Nick's eyes and didn't like what she saw. The man wore a nervous grimace on his face. She snapped at him, "What are you? Afraid?"

"A little, the chap's as big as a house, he's going to spoil--" Nick stopped speaking and Tracy stopped in mid-stride.

"Go ahead, Nick, finish what you were going to say."

For the first time since they'd met she saw him uncertain, hesitant, but he regained his composure in a flash. "That fellow's going to spoil your evening."

"Why didn't you say something back there then, or do something?"

"What would you have me do? Shoot him?"

His words startled her. "Are you carrying a gun?"

"A derringer. It would take more than two bullets to kill him."

Tracy muttered fuck under her breath. Slapping her father's right hand man was one thing, but getting him shot was another altogether. "Things are getting too serious and out of control, Nick. Maybe I should go back."

She studied the planks of the deck till he put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. He still looked nervous to her and that disappointed her. Any man of hers needed to stand up for her, even against a man the size of house. He tugged at her hand and she didn't budge.

"Come with me," said Nick brusquely, but masterfully.

She followed him.

~~~ 

Holy shit, thought Kane, what a close call. The girl's bodyguard had nearly queered the deal. He needed to put some distance between them and the colonel's goon or fail his assignment. Plus not getting to fuck Tracy senseless and getting his neck broken in the bloody bargain. Now the big son of a bitch pushed his way through the onlookers and stalked after them again. The walkway curved around the stern of the riverboat. Kane veered left to cross the wide aft deck of the steamship to where he'd been leading Tracy all along, before she wanted to get kissed. Her cockeyed notions of romance and moonlit strolls bordered on the absurd.

The gigantic paddlewheel thundered below, throwing a mist into the air as it churned the waters of the Mississippi. He felt the spray on his face and the backs of his hands before going left again to head up the narrower starboard promenade walkway toward the bow, dragging Tracy along behind him before she decided to change her mind and return to the casino.

"Off we go, young lady, the night is too young to end just yet," he said in a feeble attempt to sound both cheerful and debonair.

But she grumbled, "What do you intend to do, run from Lee all night?"

"We're not running, we're hiding."

"What do you mean hide, Nick? He'll find us no matter where we go."

"Not where I have in mind he won't," he promised her.

Kane thought he heard heavy running footsteps behind them above the roar of the paddlewheel, but knew it was just paranoia. Lee lost sight of them when they crossed the stern deck yet doubtless hurried to catch up. Not that it would do him any good. Kane had chosen the stern of the ship for his purposes because of the paddlewheel's proximity. Its constant threshing made it nearly impossible to hear anything. To Kane's immediate left a ladder led up to the third level of the riverboat, the Texas deck. He hurried Tracy up the wooden stairway ahead of him.

"Where in the hell are we going, Nick?"

"You'll see. I think you'll like it." He knew she wouldn't, once she got there and found out what she was in for. In the last few minutes Colonel Somerset's daughter had transformed into an absolute handful.

"Are we going to huddle in the crow's nest?"

"Don't be silly, girl, riverboats don't have crow's nests. But I swear we are going to huddle, actually cuddle is the better choice of words," he lied.

"That sounds intriguing." Tracy sounded like she'd gotten back in the spirit of things, at least her mood seemed improved.

"Then let us go," he said with more levity than he felt. They walked a short way then trundled back down another ladder, once more enveloped by the noise of the paddlewheel. When they reached the promenade deck Kane paused to kiss Tracy to reassure her before taking yet another ladder below to the main deck. She loved kissing and before the kiss ended he sprouted another erection to replace the one he'd lost evading Lee. Kane hunched his pelvis against hers and, to his relief, Tracy reciprocated.

What a good little slut, jolly good.

On the lower main deck she had to yell to be heard above the roar of the wheel and water. "Why are you taking me down here?"

He said loudly close to her ear, "We're going up and down these ladders to confound Lee. Doubling back ought to disorient him."

"Ladders?" wondered Tracy.

"Stairways in landlubber talk. Let's get a move on, love."

He cupped a cheek of her ass to guide her along. They passed several doorways until Kane came to a halt at one without a porthole, produced a key and let them inside a surprisingly roomy compartment. When he closed and locked the door behind him, Kane could hear himself think again, the paddlewheel's racket muffled like a constant but distant rolling thunder. Oil lamps set in the bulkheads provided a hazy illumination. He figured Tracy would find dim lighting romantic, at least until she realized what he'd got up to. When she spied the stacked barrels, coils of tarred rope littering the deck and shelves of sundry boiler room tools, she hesitated.

"For a minute I thought you might have a stateroom, Nick. Let's go back outside; it's more romantic under the moon and stars."

Kane asked, "Would you have gone with me if I'd said let's go up to my cabin so we can be alone?"

"Well, maybe," the deceptive tart said slowly, indecisive like so many women Kane encountered during a checkered lifetime. "You said you knew a place where we could cuddle. I don't see anywhere to cuddle in here, not in comfort at any rate. What is this place anyhow, a storeroom or something?"

"On the other side of these barrels is a couch. See for yourself."

He'd not lied. An old castoff couch with a tall tattered back and two oversized scrolled arms had long ago been pushed into a corner, its fabric threadbare and ripped in places. The dilapidated sofa was late for the rubbish heap but suited Kane's purpose. He clasped Tracy's upper arm, hauled her over to it then sat down and pulled her onto his lap. When he palmed one of her splendid tits, she recoiled.

"This isn't very romantic, Nick, I said let's get out of here."

Kane gave the bodice of her gown a yank to bare her breasts. The silk settled around her waist and he admired the belly button in her flat stomach and the ribcage outlined under her alabaster skin. Those tits bobbed quite nicely, stood high and firm without a hint of sag like a very young girl's full breasts will, far more lovely than he'd previously imagined. Kane tongued one of the nipples and she tried to push away from him.

"Behave yourself, or I'll scream."

"Go right ahead," he told her, raising the hem of her party dress up until the material bunched around her waistline like a wide belt. He ran a hand high on one of her legs to reach her pussy. She immediately got his fingers wet. Then Tracy began to squirm, setting her breasts into delicious motion. Mesmerized, Kane began sucking on a stiff nipple.

"Stop I said or I'll scream."

"Be my guest, no one will hear you, not in here."

Kane smelled her slightly fishy scent even before he sunk a finger deep between her labial lips with such ease it should've shamed Tracy, but didn't. She was like a ripe berry overflowing with juice, ready and in need of a good drubbing. She struggled in his arms, but just a little. Like many women she put up a token resistance for nothing other than to soothe her conscience tomorrow morning. Her squirming just excited him more. She wriggled about less and less the more he fingerfucked her. Ardor overtook her, her breathing becoming heavy and uneven. Panting, she grabbed him by the hair to move his face in close, kissing him with great passion, tongue roving inside his mouth with a mounting hunger. Her legs parted more to permit Kane access to fondle her more easily. Before long he introduced a second finger inside her and she groaned loudly, moving her hips in concert with his skillful probing to ratchet up the degrees of her pleasure. When she came the first time Tracy kissed him with a fiercer intensity. Wet smacking noises sounded, the source of them between her legs. Her lips left his and she whimpered into his ear, gasping and moaning in unbridled joy, her breath heated.

Suddenly she clamped her thighs together to trap his hand and voiced a loud unembarrassed cry signaling a powerful orgasm.

"Oh, darling Nick, don't stop, please keep doing that. I want you to love me so bad. I want you, don't deny me. Please!"

Seconds later Kane sensed a growing wet spot on his trouser leg where she perched in his lap. He slipped his slick digits out of her liquid core and thrust them into her mouth.

"Suck them clean, you naughty girl, you've gotten cream all over them."

She obeyed him and sucked for a minute before pushing his hand away. Then the fickle bitch declared, "That's disgusting. I want to go."

"You liked it. Besides, you know what today is. I thought you wanted to fuck."

"Stop using that coarse language and take me back to the casino."

"You hypocrite. It's all right for you to say fuck, but not me."

"I'm ordering you to stop touching me and take me back."

"What makes you think you can give me orders, love? From this point forward you'll be taking orders instead of giving them."

"Who do you think you are?"

"I might ask you the same exact question," he replied. "You think now that you've gotten your jollies it's time to go and my satisfaction means little or nothing to you."

She got contrite, or as contrite as a self righteous spoiled bitch like she would ever get. "Didn't I make you happy, darling?"

"I'm happy alright," he agreed, "but I'm about to be even happier!"

"What do you mean, Nick?"

"Don't ask," he said in a growl, "you understand me just fine."

His wicked grin came back into place.

He rolled her over his knee and pulled the hem of her dress back up above her ass where it had slid down. Kane discovered her bottom to be on an equally fabulous par as her languidly swaying breasts. After a short spell of admiring the smooth halved flesh of her buttocks he brought the flat of his hand down hard to deliver a ferocious smack to her left cheek. The flesh of her bottom leapt under the impact and a charming red handprint appeared as if it had been there all along. The mark looked right, like it belonged there. In fact he found it appealing enough to apply his hand again to smack her other buttcheek. Perfect! So perfect that Kane did not stop and commenced paddling her fat young ass for minutes on end. He ceased only long enough to grip her slim wrists together in one fist before the resumption of spanking her behind continuously with his other hand. Tracy wailed, calling him every name in her vast vocabulary. Not that she could've checked his determined pummeling with words alone. The sight of her ass dancing under the rhythm of his hand almost dizzied him.




Gamine and Gambler



After a while he spread her legs apart and fiddled some more with the succulent folds of feminine flesh between her thighs. The little bitch was wetter than when she'd come all over his hand. All of Tracy's cursing and yelling stopped as she began to pant anew, no longer fighting him. Before long she gasped in another profound orgasm. A miasma of teenage arousal perfumed the air. The smell of her pussy intoxicated Kane and, since Tracy already had had a series of orgasms that night, he decided one of his own was long overdue. He needed to release the pressure built up in his balls and expend a little fluid of his own. Kane waited only enough to prize her buttocks apart with the fingers of one hand in order to get an extended view of her anus.

From the adorable hub of her asshole tiny lines radiated like bicycle spokes. With a rude fingertip Kane massaged the pronounced and upraised grommet of Tracy's anal muscle with a fondness bordering on obsession, a fondness worthy of delaying his much needed expenditure of lust. The girl squeaked in protest about the location and duration of his examination. To shut her up he landed an unexpected smote on her already reddened bottom. With her silence assured Kane continued his curious inspection of her sweet little blowhole. Rubbing it, stretching the rubbery ring from one side to the other to observe its youthful resilience before finally pressing the tip of his forefinger against it to test its resistance. So engrossed in his study of her anus Kane pushed a bit too hard and, to his dismay, his digit disappeared to the knuckle inside her. His dismay though was nothing compared to Tracy's. The intrusion elicited an oath most foul from the young lady who resurrected her vocabulary for a third or fourth time that evening to stun Kane's ears.

"Sorry, love, purely an accident," he said not altogether truthfully.

"Then why is it still in there, Nick!"

Kane extracted his finger very slowly so as not to injure her precious backside, marveling at the way the raspberry-colored lining clung to him stubbornly before his exit was complete. This egress caused the youngster to emit a real-life raspberry of her own which earned her ass an additional five or six affectionate swats accompanied by Kane's uproarious laughing regarding the comedy of the entire tableau.

"I don't think it's funny in the slightest," she complained.

When Kane's laughter subsided he complimented Tracy on her delightful sense of humor. "A companion as witty and beautiful as you is hard to find, little lady," he said while carelessly stripping the disheveled gown off her.

"I'll bet you'd find it even funnier if I jammed a finger in you," Tracy retorted.

Kane howled. Eventually his merriment faded away and he got serious once more, remembering his aching set of balls. He spilled Tracy out of his lap unceremoniously and onto the deck. Standing over her Kane unbuttoned the front of his jodhpurs to free his throbbing and engorged member. His orders left no room for gray areas: "Put this in your mouth and pleasure me or I'll warm that fat bum of yours some more."

Tracy's eyes widened and she remarked in a tiny awed voice, "Nick, you're so very very large."

Eagerly she crawled over to him, clasped him timidly in one small hand, stroking him vigorously. The girl never took her eyes off his dick, watching it like a mouse watches a snake, as if hypnotized. With renewed absolute devotion written on her face Tracy parted her lips to accommodate him. He placed a hand on the back of her head and she drew him deeply inside her mouth. It was, of course, warm and wet and she groaned throughout her labor of love, powerless but enthusiastic. For long minutes he fed her his staff, pushing enough of it in her to make her she choke. All the while her tits bounced and knocked together with great abandon. She ministered to Kane in an inexpert but nonetheless gratifying manner. Strings of drool dangled from her mouth like spaghetti as she worshipped his tool to the extent his bloated scrotum tightened.

His time to come had come.

Then Kane filled Tracy's mouth with semen in pulsing squirts. He cried out like she had done earlier, unable to contain himself until his numerous heated discharges dwindled. His sperm leaked from the corners of her mouth and around the sides of his rampant tumescence. When he withdrew the remaining thick white mass of ejaculate slipped off her tongue like oil, covering her chin and began dripping onto the tops of her breasts, down their rounded slopes and descending in trails the length of her tummy to clot in her pubic hair. Several erratic globs splotched both her thighs. She looked so good splattered with his outpourings that Kane wished he had a camera to record for posterity the sight of her kneeling there splashed with his loving tribute of tenderness and high regard.

After catching his breath he admonished her, "Next time I want you to swallow all of it down like a good girl and not waste a drop."

"I won't," she promised meekly. "Are you going to fuck me now, Nick?"

"I'm giving it some serious thought."

"Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it."

"Do you promise to do everything in your power to please me?"

"Yes, yes, everything in my power! Please, fuck me."

"You're dying for it?"

"Yes."

"Don't want to go back to the casino?"

"No."

"I want you to come on my dick all night long."

"I won't be able to help myself."

"And you'll follow orders to the letter?"

Tracy vowed, "Darling, I promise I'll do anything you want for as long as you want."

"You'll have trouble walking tomorrow," he advised her. "Your father and Lee will know what you got up to tonight."

"A small price to pay. Those two always think the worst when it comes to me regardless."

"You want me to make you be naughty, don't you, you wicked girl?"

"Treat me like a whore if you want to, darling."

"I'll remind you you said that if you shy away from what I want."

"I want to make you happy."

"Excellent! Get up and sit on the couch. Spread your legs so I can see how pretty your pussy is."

Tracy scrambled onto the couch as fast as possible and adjusted her long legs in the position Kane wanted her to. Her breasts rose and fell with excitement. The splayed open mouth of her pussy shone pink and wet amid her dark pubic thatch. Beneath it he noticed the protruding pinched socket of Tracy's anus, but not well enough to suit him.

"Scrunch forward on the couch until your ass is almost hanging off it. That's much better, love. Now keep those legs of yours spread apart as much as you can. Put your feet flat on the cushions with the toes pointed away from you. Superb! Don't talk and don't move a muscle."

He paced over to the steamer trunk he'd brought aboard the riverboat with him earlier and opened it. Rooting among his gear he found a small pair of scissors, a straight razor, a comb and an aerosol can of shaving cream. Tracy watched puzzled as he approached her with the curious items in hand. She opened her mouth to ask a question but his stern look shushed her before she spoke. He sat on the deck with his legs crossed like an Indian. Taking up the comb and scissors he combed through the dark triangle of hair between her legs as he snipped it with the scissors. Tracy watched in fascination as her nest of pubic curls fell away till only whiskers remained. When he set aside his barbering tools and took up the aerosol can of foam she could not help but inquire about it.

"I told you not to talk," Kane reminded her.

The girl lapsed back into silence.

He shook the can and filled a palm with lather that he coated her pubic stubble with. While the lather softened the short hairs he stood and stowed comb, scissors and shaving cream back in his trunk. The shaving cream had yet to do its work properly so Kane filled in the time waiting by laving the congealed come off Tracy's body with the finger he'd delved into her bung and made her lick the finger clean. So copious had been his ejaculation that she was required to suck the semen from his finger half a dozen times. By the time she'd finished the task she appeared a bit green around the gills, but Kane paid her wrinkled nose and pursed lips no mind. Sitting down Indian fashion again he shaved her pubes bald as an egg with the razor. His chore complete, he used her discarded gown to wipe away the excess lather with it, gave her another look when she started to object. Finally he bid Tracy to stand and lean against the couch with her feet as wide apart as she could manage while he spread the fleshy moons of her ass apart. With deft sure strokes of the razor he eliminated a stray hair or two he'd originally missed but, for the most part, the valley between the girl's nether cheeks was void of unsightly hair.

Never one to miss such an opportunity Kane tongued her charming anus for a minute or two while he had her in a convenient position. She gasped and groaned while his tongue busied itself, but Kane elected not to chastise her for disobeying orders until later. When finished tickling her asshole he told her to sit back down.

He knelt between her legs, pulled her toward him till her ass wasn't touching the sofa cushions and all her weight centered on the small of her back. The thick elongated lips of her cunt were dual wings of irregular flesh that curled inward like orchid petals. Even in the dim light Tracy's pink insides shone with wetness. At the base of her pussy a droplet increased gradually in size before becoming heavy enough to slide from its point of origin and trace a wet path down her left asscheek. Kane found the droplet so arousing he removed the evidence of its short journey with his tongue. Tracy shuddered.

He murmured, "Your flower is a work of art, child, and must be displayed totally bare for me to gain full appreciation. I may be sufficiently inspired to compose a poem dedicated to your unique loveliness."

Her fragrant gaping pussy caused him to fully stiffen again. For the next ten minutes or more he found himself moved to lick and suck every nook and cranny of what he'd laid bare. He drank from her fountain until it gushed copiously, almost as copiously as his hard pecker did in barren times when he'd done without for weeks. She tasted delicious and smelled of girl. Poor Tracy squeaked helplessly, catching her breath and moaning with delight while he employed his mouth on her as skillfully as he had his two fingers in the same spot earlier. He saved the swollen clitoris nosing from its hood for dessert. Crying out, the girl wrapped her thighs around his head, bucking against his face in debauched paroxysms of pleasure. She didn't even fight the sticky forefinger that sought a sneaky passage back into her asshole, but instead came harder than ever.

Kane rose to his feet wiping the juice from the lower half of his face. Urging the naked girl off the sofa cushions and onto her knees, he wagged his erection in her face and she needed no coaching to know what to do. She nursed him feverishly in her mouth; he made her stop before he came.

Then he began issuing orders: "Back on the sofa, my trembly young slut. Turn around. No, face away from me, that's right, stay on your knees and lean over the back of the couch. Thighs well apart, there's a girl."

She hastened to obey his every whim.

Again Kane marveled at Tracy's freshly shaven genitals not unlike the way Tracy had when praising his dick after seeing it for the first time. The humid circle of muscle residing between her buttocks above the vertical slash of her denuded pubes beckoned to him in lascivious invitation, her crimson rear end especially endearing. Gripping a glowing red asscheek in each hand Kane stretched the moons of her bottom far apart to ease in guiding his spear inside her to the hilt, his entry heralded with squishy slurp. With one hand cupping her left buttock he moved his other up to her lower back to steady her, thumb sunk into her defenseless bottom, rotating round and round to describe a lewd circle.

Tracy groaned, "Oh, God."

She watched over one of her slim shoulders to witness what transpired, but only for a moment. Her wide eyes rolled up in their sockets then her blonde head drooped out of sight. She must have come hard with that first stroke because Kane sensed a mighty tremor shiver down her torso to her loins. The muscles of her pussy clamped his length like a soaked velvet vise. A hint of fresh fish drifted to his nostrils, dilating them in olfactory delight. Kane knew positively the marine life in the nearby river couldn't claim responsibility for the warm pungent smell permeating the enclosed space.

Tracy proved to be a regular screamer when getting her ashes hauled. Her endless chant of "oh my God, my dear God" echoed off the compartment bulkheads, a mindless song thrumming in his ears.

Kane hammered himself in and out of her until he knew for a certainty she'd liberally glazed his long prick, not once, but many times. He feared his spout might bubble over too soon and pulled out of the girl's sluicing crevice. He longed to probe the depths of her asshole and centered the knob of his cock to target her sphincter. Tracy reached a desperate hand between her thighs to grab at his erection in an attempt to redirect it back into her fragrant crease. He was having none of it.

Knowing she'd lubricated him enough to make the jar of petroleum jelly in his trunk superfluous, Kane pressed his large plumhead against her anus and inched forward until her lovely tight muscle gave way. A compactness enveloped his rigidity. He carried on pushing deeper, reveling at the way her anus widened with every ingoing centimeter. Wordless sounds erupted from the girl, midway between a gurgle and a groan. Engulfed in the depths of her rectum sent Kane's senses reeling. His balls tingled and his temples drummed, the compressed sensation boggled his mind and threatened to explode his brain inside his skull. Finally his delighted prick could go no deeper. Tracy's helpless gyrating behind gripped him wonderfully.

He eased out of her ass to sheathe himself deep again, watching how her enlarged sphincter seemed to turn inside out before he repeated the slow languorous reentry process of embedding his erection until his balls pressed against the salivating open mouth of her vacant labia.

Thoughtfully he touched her erect clitoris to push Tracy's button for her. Right away she hunched back at him, wantonly slamming her ass against his pelvis to coax him to fuck her faster. Once the girl grew accustomed to her asshole being plundered Kane quickened his pace until he rode her at a gallop, plunging in and out of her ass at a rapid clip. He would've come sooner if he hadn't just clogged her mouth with a rain of goo however, like just moments before in her pussy, the inevitable second outcome wasn't too far in the future.

Kane strived to slow the frantic pace only to discover himself incapable of doing so. Then he cried out as ecstatic waves reverberated through every nerve ending in his body before he flooded Tracy's heated anal tract with surge after surge of gruel. His chest labored and his head whirled over the course of the next few minutes. During that period the girl squeezed him gingerly out of her bottom. When Kane felt as if he could walk without collapsing he stepped away from Tracy, who slumped insensate onto the sofa. An unconscious fart escaped her and she sighed. Come dribbled out of her yawning bung to decorate the lips of her widespread pussy like gravy. Again Kane wished he'd packed a camera in his trunk along with his other toys so he could photograph Tracy Somerset to preserve this memory.

What an outstanding and exemplary fuck she turned out to be!

"Did you like that, sweetheart?"

She favored him with that old sly smile of hers. "I could learn to like it," she admitted.

"It'll be easier next time."

"Will there be a next time?" she inquired, still breathing heavy.

Had Kane ever met a girl who didn't ask that when he finished putting her through her paces? He gave an inward shrug and answered Tracy's question with an enigmatic grin.

Getting her to her unsteady feet he knelt before her. Situated thusly he could inhale the heady aroma of her overworked teenaged pussy. Her meaty vaginal lips hung slack, splayed open and dewed with her discharge and his. Another droplet leaked out of her opening like the one after he'd shaved her pubes. The sheer randiness of her spotting the deck caused Kane's deflated prick to pulse with the early warning signs of reviving.

Time to get back to business.

He clutched at the girl to help him stand up.

"Again?" she asked hopefully, her face and eyes aglow.

"You're a willing young thing," he observed.

She said, "I've never been with a man like you before. You have such enormous stamina. And a size to match."

They both laughed at her impromptu and likely unintentional humor.

Tracy said, "Have you never been told that?"

"What?"

"That you have an exceptionally large . . ." she got embarrassed and giggled like a schoolgirl. Apparently she couldn't bring herself to say dick or cock or prick so she reached over and touched his to indicate what she meant. Tracy stood there caressing it for a minute, like some new prized possession of hers. Then she squatted down and placed an affectionate little kiss on the helmet at the end of his length.

Despite her bossiness and flagrant disregard for other people's feelings, Kane thought, he could really get to like her. If he let himself, not that he'd allow it. The Sheikh doubtless already had a buyer for her.

He wondered then about Tracy, and other women, his employer sent him back in time for via a mystical process that Kane had never understood. On this occasion the Sheikh sent him back over 160 years. How could he set Kane down in a bygone era with a pinpoint accuracy a parachutist would envy? The Civil War would begin in a mere eight weeks. Colonel Somerset and many others had to know what lay ahead for this country. Did Tracy care? Not likely. How had the Sheikh learned about her? And the others? Stacy O'Bannon. Rachel Roman. Boy, had she been a dandy little wriggler! Maybe the wily Sheikh had a collection of daguerreotypes stashed away somewhere to alert him of the existence of these beautiful young ladies. Kane knew better than to question the Arabian about such matters, always finding it prudent to keep a stiff upper lip around the old boy.

Tracy disturbed his reverie by asking what time it was.

Kane wondered himself and consulted his pocket watch. Earlier than he thought, a little past ten. The riverboat would steam into the harbor in New Orleans between six or seven o'clock the next morning. Kane hoped not to be aboard this old tub then. That fucking bodyguard of Tracy's had been the stickiest wicket he'd ever run across in the past or present.

"Nick? Are you daydreaming?"

"Things on my mind," he snorted. "It's five after ten."

"It's time we should be getting back." Tracy reached for her soiled and rumpled dress.

Kane stopped her and reached inside the velvet frockcoat he'd discarded over an arm of the sofa sometime earlier in the festivities, possibly when she'd knelt before him the first time. While he'd buggered her he'd undone his sweltering cravat too, putting the knob to Tracy proved to be a sweaty business. He found the chrome pair of handcuffs in his coat, showed them to her.

"Ever seen anything like these?" he asked her. He rather doubted it; he'd brought them with him from the 21st century, in addition to a few other choice items in the trunk.

"They look like some of the slave bracelets daddy has on the plantation. What are they?"

"Let me show you. Turn around."

"I really think I should get dressed."

"And I really think you ought to turn around like I said."




Gamine and Gambler



The girl almost argued but saw the uselessness of that in Kane's face.

He swung her around and fastened her wrists together behind her with such alacrity that at first she more than likely didn't know just what he'd done to her. Those excellent breasts heaved with Kane's sudden exertions, the nipples hard and pointing upward.

"What are you doing, darling? I need to go now, really."

"You're not going anywhere," he informed her. Not yet anyway.

"Are you going to fuck me again," she asked.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," he said, knowing his wicked smile was back on his face. "Get down on your knees, you devious little scrubber."

She complied immediately, by now she knew better than to do otherwise. He brushed the head of his prick across her lips.

"This is kind of exciting. Do you want me to suck you off again?"

He just nodded and Tracy went to work fellating him until her eyes watered. Halfway through the proceedings she commented on how arousing she found it to be helpless kneeling before him telling her what to do. Kane thrust back into her mouth and forced himself all the way down her throat a couple of times. She gagged and spit up on the deck, her tits juddering as she coughed. Kane got down on his haunches, placed an exploratory hand between her legs.

He said, "You're so perpetually wet I'm shocked you're not dehydrated."

"What does that mean . . . oww!" she screeched when he assisted her standing up by pulling at her hair.

"Lie on your belly on the arm of the couch. Move, girl, when I tell you to do something!"

He smacked her smartly with a bare hand to rush her along. Sprawled forward over the scrolled side of the sofa with her ass in the air she looked vulnerable and saucy. Kane felt compelled to sink his wakened hard-on into her one last time before administering some well deserved punishment. He fucked her very hard then, her ass flesh jiggling all over the place with each vengeful lunge. Tracy was unable to do anything except exclaim loudly with every powerful stroke.

"Oh. Oh. Oh. OHH!"

"Are you coming again, Tracy?"

"Yes. Oh. Yes!"

Kane removed his hardness from her pussy to seek an alternate route. When he pulled out of her her cunt slurped and emitted a farting noise. He grinned at the sound as he began plumbing the depths of her behind again. Tracy's bottom received quite a workout the second time around. Kane's senses exploded like fireworks after a ballgame when he came for the third unprecedented time that night. He pulled out of her bottom and tore off his frilly shirt and cummerbund. Tracy's purse full of the Sheikh's money had gotten wedged between two couch cushions while they'd been playing. He picked it up, tossed it a foot up in the air and caught it, snickering.

"You didn't think you were going to get away with my money, did you, sweetheart?"

Speechless and handcuffed, Tracy watched him, unable to move much.

When procuring the key to this compartment for the princely sum of five dollars from a deck hand that afternoon (with many assurances from the old boatswain no one ever entered this area while the steamship was underway) he'd placed his trunk of belongings inside. Kane strode over to it and tucked Tracy's handbag among them before selecting a supple riding crop he'd purchased in Cairo last month. He'd yet to test it out on a filly, but tonight would be the night he broke the crop in.

No longer speechless, the bound and naked girl lying over the arm of the couch demanded, "Give me back my money, you thief!"

"Thief?" he sneered. "You've got a lot of room to talk, love. I must admit you were well worth three hundred dollars. But I don't like to pay women for their favors." He held the riding crop up for her to see and cut the air with it experimentally. The crop made a fearful swooshing noise. "But you, young lady, you're going to pay for cheating me. And dearly."

"Nick, what is that?" she asked.

He didn't answer. She rode horses and knew damn well what it was.

"What are you going to do to me?"

Kane chuckled. "Allow me to demonstrate."

The horrified nude girl endeavored unsuccessfully to get to her feet and swore like a sailor in Nelson's Navy. Kane stepped behind her holding the leather switch like a sword. And for the next quarter hour Tracy's backside had a very bad time of it. Stripe after stripe appeared on her buttocks and the backs of her thighs. The bare handed paddling Tracy received before seemed like a game of patty cake compared to the thrashing of the riding crop.

That mysterious smell of fish returned, poignant and invigorating in the close quarters of the compartment. Apparently the switching caused Tracy to come harder than while frolicking with Kane, but he cared not a jot. He was quite enjoying himself too. A professional like he could've drawn blood with every slash had he desired, but stinging the self important girl's bottom repeatedly and seeing her flinch was good enough for Kane. Kane was his name and cane was his game.

Smack, smack, SMACK!

During the tanning of Tracy he paused once to cram his cravat into her mouth to squelch her panicked outcries. She'd become vocal enough to be heard even over the noise of the paddlewheel. But after the short pause to gag the hapless maiden he continued lashing her like an angry schoolmaster with a recalcitrant female pupil who refused to learn her lessons. Once he had Tracy's ass in the state he wanted it in, he stowed the riding crop back inside his trunk. Afterwards he stripped off his boots and jodhpurs and lay down on the couch with Tracy astride his loins. He exhorted her to bounce up and down on his stiffness so he could enjoy the wobbling of that pair of breasts he'd become so enamored of over the last few hours.

Never in his life had a girl given him as thorough and satisfying ride as Tracy gave him on the old sofa. She came so many times he thought she might faint, but the girl was a real trooper, carrying on in an admirable fashion right up to the very end. The finish left his pelvic region so slick it appeared as if someone dumped a pail of water over him. He left Tracy prostrate on the couch and, to her chagrin, swabbed her abundant passion off him with her expensive silk gown before flinging it away from him onto the deck. She'd never be wearing it again.

After another consultation of his pocket watch he saw over a half hour remained until midnight. He unlocked one of the cuffs confining Tracy's wrists then secured her hands in front of her. He got dressed and hustled her over to the barrels across from the marine tools on the bulkhead. Kane kicked one over on its side, made Tracy lie facedown over it. She steadied herself with the palms of her hands flat on the deck to keep the barrel from rolling her over.

Tracy Somerset was so exhausted she didn't move a muscle while he delved inside his trunk again. This time Kane selected a wooden paddle to blister her ass with. She groaned when she saw it.

"Next time you'll think twice before shooting dice," Kane intoned. "Hey, that rhymed!"

Tracy failed to appreciate his droll humor.

He deemed it necessary to use a ball gag this time round, also from his trusty steamer trunk. While spanking her he enjoyed in the way her lovely bottom leapt with each crack of the board, wildly clenching and unclenching as she received another two or three dozen (Kane lost count) tidy whacks. At long last he put away the paddle in the trunk and tied Tracy's ankles together with some leather restraints he'd had the foresight to bring. Then Kane lifted her onto the couch. No doubt she tasted tears trying to curse him with the ball gag in place. She acted like she felt very sorry for herself.

Just before midnight he stepped out on the deck to reconnoiter. The night had grown cooler and the mist produced by the rackety paddlewheel felt refreshing against his skin. Relief settled in when he saw no one in sight, but had his derringer in hand just in case. Lee might be foraging about somewhere but, for the time being, the big sergeant was nowhere to be seen. On the starboard side of the riverboat a fishing vessel floated up alongside. Right on schedule. Kane peered over the railing and his friend Peyt waved up at him from the deck of the smaller craft.

Gadsby Peyton, a muscular black man clad only in a pair of dungarees, hollered up at him, "You got some cargo for me to take aboard, Mister Nick?"

Kane said he did. Back in the cabin he hauled a rope ladder from the trunk before fastening it shut. He carried both out on the deck, held the trunk out over the rail and let it go over the side. The trunk bounced once when it landed in a large fishing net Peyt had strung across a portion of the aft deck of his craft. Kane hitched the rope ladder to the riverboat's rail and let it unwind down the side of the ship. The ends of it dragged in the water because there wasn't much of a drop. Throwing a trunk over the side was one thing, but he didn't want to break Tracy's neck dropping her a few feet regardless of how much netting Peyt had strung up. Back in the cabin he slung the dazed girl over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Clambering down the moving ladder with Tracy was a brief, but precarious affair. He transferred the girl into Peyt's waiting arms and hopped onto the deck of his boat. Kane shook his hand and thanked him for being on time.

Peyt eyed the fettered and terrified naked girl and whistled.

"Is that as fine a piece of ass as it looks, Mister Nick?"

"You can find out for yourself just as soon as you get us the hell away from here."

Tracy's eyes went wide at his statement however the ball gag prevented her protests from being heard. A southern belle wouldn't fancy a black man.

Peyt's laugh boomed out across the water. "Welcome aboard, ma'am." Tracy averted her eyes and Peyt laughed again. "Well then, Mister Nick, I guess we'd best get the hell away from here."

"The sooner we shove off the better, I'd say, Peyt. The lady's got one helluva nasty watchdog on board that ship sniffing around for her."

Peyt gave Kane a mock salute.

"Aye aye, cap'n." He leered at Tracy. He picked the girl up like she weighed nothing and scuttled to the wheelhouse as fast as his legs would carry him.

Kane started to follow except for an uncharacteristic noise behind Peyt's boat. From where he stood the paddlewheel still roared sending a spray up in the air. What the devil had he heard? No fish flopping around in the river could be heard on the deck of Peyt's craft. His eyes crinkled around the edges as they swept the moonlit water, rippling like ink shot with silver. Kane must be imagining things; turned to fetch his trunk when a large hand clawed at the gunwale less than eight feet from him. A second hand seized the gunwale and a giant form hauled itself out of the river and almost onto the deck of the fishing boat. Water erupted around the figure like an explosion as he emerged, streaming down his clothes. In the moonlight Lee's drenched gray uniform appeared black.

Bloody hell, Kane had time to think as the big man scrambled nimbly onto the deck in front of him. The bastard obviously witnessed their departure and instead of shouting some worthless doggerel like "stop" thereby warning Kane, the tricky bastard had dived off the steamship to launch a silent attack on Peyt's boat. Kane panicked then, he was a lover not a fighter, a coward at best. And now the stickiest wicket he'd ever encountered (excluding policemen) stood a yard away from him ready to pounce.

The oversized sergeant would crush him.

Kane's smooth getaway hadn't gone so smoothly.

He didn't have the presence of mind to shout out Peyt's name. The gun in his coat pocket was forgotten in his haste and fear. Lee made no sound as he lunged at Kane, eyes swimming with hatred. Kane twisted out of the enormous man's clutch and attempted to run for the wheelhouse but his foot tripped on a cleat in the deck tumbling him into the netting Peyt partially rigged across the aft deck to aid in the lowering of Tracy. Luck sided with Kane somehow. Within reach he saw a fisherman's gaff, a harpoon-like instrument used for snaring nets out of the water and spearing fish. The long wooden handle fit inside a hollow steel tip with a barbed hook pointed straight like an arrow on its end. A second hook angled in a curve like a comma. Kane grasped it to stab at Lee. The sergeant grasped it in his fist but cut himself badly in the process and let go. Kane jabbed it into Lee, felt the point go through clothing and puncture the hide of his assailant's chest before striking bone. Lee got both hands around the handle and yanked it out of his body and wrenched it away from Kane. Blood jetted from the grievous wound and Lee's hand bled profusely, dripping red onto the deck in ragged splotches. The man uttered not a sound and swung the wooden end of the gaff like a bat. Kane took a glancing blow on his upper left arm, had it properly connected Lee would've broken the bone. He hurled the gaff out into the river and charged Kane. In his headlong rush he got his hands around Kane's neck and the two men toppled over the side and into the water. Before going overboard Kane had reached into his pocket after finally remembering the derringer. He fumbled with it as he sank into the freezing depths of the Mississippi, not knowing if it made any difference now.

Those ham-like hands of Lee's were choking him to death.

The only instinct instilled in human beings stronger than the sex drive is that of survival. He kicked at Lee underwater and tried to gouge the chap's eyes out with his left hand, all the while concentrating on readying the little pistol to fire. Had the derringer originated from the Old West and not been of modern manufacture Kane knew the gunpowder would be wet and useless. Though he might manage to the pull the trigger, the gun wouldn't have fired. With the breath almost choked out of him, he struggled to get the pistol out of his pocket, not wanting to shoot a small caliber bullet through his clothing and reduce its effectiveness. Near death, Kane surprised himself thinking with such clarity.

There! He had the damn thing outside his coat, rammed it against Lee's left side under his armpit and fired. He heard a muffled discharge in the deep water and Lee's hands immediately left his throat. Kane fought his way to the surface, gasping for air. When Lee's head broke the water Kane already had the pistol in a firing position. He slammed the muzzle into the sergeant's left eye, praying the gun would fire a second time and pulled the trigger. The bullet blew brains and viscera out the back of Lee's head and his corpse sunk out of sight in the river.

Never letting go of the lifesaving pistol, Kane retched and vomited. He spat two or three times hearing shouting from the riverboat, and from Peyt's. Kane swam furiously toward it; even though the night was warm the water was ice cold. He'd done some terribly dirty deeds in his lifetime but he'd never killed a man. Fuck it, he'd worry about that later if he worried at all.

Peyt bellowed, "Mister Nick, Mister Nick, what the hell happened?"

"Get me aboard and let's flee the scene, man," Kane cried out to him, the taste of vomit still in his mouth. He refused to rinse it out with water from this dirty river.

Peyt grabbed hold of Kane's outstretched arm. Grunting and cursing he hoisted him out of the water and up the side of his boat. A blessed moment later Kane lurched across the deck, coughing and sputtering. Peyt raced to the wheelhouse. What a bleeding nuisance the Confederate sergeant wound up being, from the moment he'd laid a hand on his shoulder at the crap table until he left off wringing his neck. Certainly there'd be no tears of mourning shed for the dead man, not from Kane anyway. He never doubted he'd lose a minute's sleep over pulling the trigger on Lee.

But he did harbor doubts about continuing to toil for the Sheikh, and not for the first time. What was he on about anyway? He owed the Sheikh. If not for him Kane would be rotting in a prison cell getting the stuffing beat out of him daily by the other prisoners once they learned about the piano incident. Yes, his piano playing days were forever behind him. The Arabian had saved his life, got him away from the law in Kane's hour of need. Yes, Kane was in debt to the slaver. Besides, the Sheikh had made him a very rich man, wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. Far richer than teaching the piano ever would've made him. And Kane got to dally with some of the most beautiful and randy young women who'd drawn a breath in the past several generations. He always had been a good looking man and never had had a problem pulling birds, long before the Sheikh introduced himself to Kane. His getting laid increased a hundredfold once he began working for the man. Rich, and getting more pussy than a popular actor, athlete or rock star.

Life was good. How long would it stay that way? No amount of money could keep him out of jail after all the crimes he'd committed, the lust and love of a thousand women would not be worth the abuse he'd endure if he spent the rest of his days behind bars. But in the fullness of time the law would catch up with him again and the courts incarcerate him. Or drop a noose around his neck. Such was Kane's cross to bear, the black cloud overhead following him, the albatross clinging to his back.

He watched the riverboat for long minutes, thinking.

The old tub began making a wide slow turn as if to reverse its course and pursue them, but would never catch up with Peyt's trustworthy vessel. It might appear to be a weathered fishing boat but Kane knew about the dual inboard engines that even now left the steamship far behind. Praise God that Peyt hadn't sped away and left him adrift. He reached for a cheroot but his dunking in the Mississippi River ruined them. Oh well, he had more in his trunk. His pocket watch and derringer might suffer water damage and stop functioning, but they'd become cherished keepsakes now. The watch represented the time he traveled through performing dangerous missions, and the derringer saved his life. When all was said and done at the end of the day Kane knew in his heart of hearts he loved the life he led. Working for the Sheikh paid well and contained more fringe benefits than being a Royal. He must put his scruples behind him, now wasn't the time to have a crisis of conscience. Regardless of what fate, or tomorrow, might bring.

Already Peyt's boat entered into a thick fog or mist and not the spray from the paddlewheeler either. That barge was a mile to the south, a few floating specks of light on the water. Kane let out a bark of laughter. Life was good! And he'd continue living it to the fullest.

At least until a man like Lee murdered him or some law enforcement agency jailed him.

He shrugged out of his cold wet clothes, draped them over the net so they could dry. Not that it mattered; he'd never wear them again. He opened his trunk, found a towel to scour himself dry with then got some cigars. He lit one and slipped on a pair of dry trousers. As an afterthought he selected a dress shirt from among the clothes he'd brought, but didn't don it. Then he staggered into the wheelhouse. Peyt manned the wheel, the twin engines hummed and Tracy crouched in a corner crying. Peyt glanced at him with a question in his eyes, Kane nodded back at him indicating he'd survive. He unlocked the handcuffs on Tracy's wrists and set them aside before undoing the restraints around her ankles. The ball gag he removed last knowing once the girl could speak she'd unleash a torrent of questions.

She did.

"What's going on, Nick? Where are you taking me? Where were you, darling? What's happening outside?"

"Quiet down, Tracy, everything's going to be jim dandy."

She put her arms around him and whimpered, "I want to go home."




Gamine and Gambler



"I know you do, but you can't. Not right now anyway."

"When?"

"Not right now I said. Maybe one of these days," he lied.

"Why can't I go now?"

"A bad war's coming, it's only weeks away. I'm taking you to a safe place. You won't be killed there." Spanked and screwed perhaps, but not killed.

"I know a war is coming, Nick, everybody knows it, but I want to go home now. Why won't to you let me?"

He didn't answer her but said, "Here, put this shirt on and cover up. You'll get a nice hot bath in a few hours and feel better."

She slipped into the shirt and hugged it around her before buttoning it up. The shirttails hung almost to her knees. "Why is your hair wet, Nick? Where are your other clothes? Were you swimming in the river?"

"I got in a fight."

"Out here? With who?"

"Who do you think? With Lee."

"Where is Lee?" she asked anxiously. "Is he outside?"

She stepped quickly to the door and out on deck to look for him. Kane trailed behind her, leaned against the wheelhouse and smoked, not saying anything. He let her wander around the boat but never let her out of his sight. The stupid chit might jump overboard to try to swim to the shore and he'd be damned if he was going back into that water.

After searching in vain for her bodyguard she came back to Kane and laced her arms around him. "Where is Lee?"

"He dove into the river to follow you and came aboard. We fought. In the water."

"Did you kill him?"

"I don't know," he lied again. "But I got away, left him behind."

"Did you shoot him?"

"Didn't I tell you before that little two shoot gun of mine wouldn't kill him?"

"You did shoot him, didn't you? Is he dead?"

"Just wounded I think. He was trying to drown me. Look, sweetheart, let's go back inside."

She acted like she hadn't heard, glanced around her at the gathering fog. "Where did this cloud come from? Where are we?"

"Still on the river. We'll be getting on another boat shortly."

"Another boat," she idly, looking around her again. "This boat is moving faster than any boat I've ever been on."

Kane thought, wait till you ride in the Sheikh's Cantius 560 cabin cruiser. He'd taken many rides aboard many luxury boats the Sheikh owned and kept moored around the world, always in the company of some worried young lady he'd just whipped then abducted, like Tracy Somerset. The latest name on his list.

The girl said, "I've never experienced a fog like this either."

Kane experienced the mysterious cloud on numerous occasions.

According to the Sheikh, it was one of the portals in which he passed through a hole in the skein of Time. If Kane didn't understand the mystery of it, neither would the girl. He wouldn't have tried to explain even if he could, he just stood there smoking and let the girl talk. Finally she wanted to get in out of the chilly night air. In the wheelhouse later the two of them laid down on the lone bunk. Tracy fell asleep within seconds and he drew a blanket over her then joined Peyt at the helm. They'd rendezvous with the Cantius in half an hour or so. When they exited the mystical fog they'd still be on the Mississippi River.

Except in the year 2012, not 1861.

~~~

The Somerset mission wound down like others of its kind. During the night Peyt and Kane transferred Tracy aboard the cabin cruiser without waking her. Kane would clean the girl up, start her on a diet of homegrown fruit and vegetables. Women from the past got ill and became malnourished eating food treated with modern day chemicals. One needed to adjust them in stages. From there Kane would guide them gently through the culture shock of mega cities, televisions, airplanes and automobiles. He always made love to them frequently during this period, reassuring them with kind words and encouragement yet still maintaining a steady discipline of canes, paddles and straps.

Tracy's first morning in another age found her awakening in the luxurious bed inside the master suite of the Cantius. She stretched and yawned on the silk sheets. Kane got a giggle as he watched her discover her new opulent surroundings and answered her endless questions. He took her into the master head and although he'd already cleaned up when he came aboard he joined her in the shower and lovingly bathed her. She in turn soaped him down too, paying special attention to his very hard prick. He gave her wet behind a few playful smacks before handing her a terrycloth bathsheet to towel dry with. She squealed with delight when he dressed her in a white satin teddy with matching thong. He carried her like a newlywed bride back into the bedroom suite and dumped her on the bed and crawled in after her. He summoned Peyt to bring them a breakfast of pineapple, honeydew melon, grapes and strawberries with cream using a telephone. Tracy oohed and ahhed over that modern device as well.

Kane made her suck his dick while they waited for Peyt to arrive. She went about her chore with as much eagerness and enthusiasm as she had aboard the riverboat. She removed his saliva slick member from her mouth once to ask, "Did you mean what you said last night, darling?"

"I've meant everything I've ever said to you, Tracy."

"Even the part about your friend?"

"You mean Peyt?"

She nodded unsurely then applied a series of kisses up and down Kane's erection for a few seconds before asking, "I mean the part about you saying for him to 'find out for himself?'" Her breasts worked themselves free of the low cut teddy and she'd not bothered tucking them away.

"Of course," he said, cupping a hand between her legs. She'd gotten her new panties all wet; the string in the back left most of her asshole visible.

At the start of their conversation Peyt glided silently into the suite with a covered silver service dish in his hands. He stood there beaming, eyes on Tracy's exposed bottom. She had her ass in the air and face in Kane's lap when they'd begun talking.

Unaware of the black man's presence she confided to Kane, "But he's a big sweaty nigra, darling. You wouldn't want to soil me by letting a nigra use me, would you?"

"You're a prejudiced rebel's daughter, Tracy. You've entered a new life in a new world and things have changed." Kane smiled hugely and pushed her head back down so she could continue giving him a blowjob. He waited while she slurped away wetly for a moment then said to the grinning black man, "Go ahead and tell her things have changed since the Confederacy lost the war, Peyt."

He laughed. "Oh, they's changed alright."

Tracy's mouth came off Kane's cock as she brought her head up quickly. "Oh, my God, Nick, why didn't you say he was standing right there?"

"I wanted him to hear you say it."

He put both hands on the top of her head to make her resume sucking him off. When she finished a white string of come hung from one corner of her mouth. Then Kane forced the ex-southern belle to give Peyt's long thick upstanding penis the same treatment. Peyt groaned and sighed as the girl's mouth made love to him. When he came he shot a prodigious amount of sperm on her tongue. Tracy wanted to spit out the black man's white sauce but Kane's stern gaze told her she'd better swallow her pride and all of what filled her mouth. He thought she might vomit when she gulped it down; she made the cutest face of disgust. Kane got hard as petrified wood watching her touching performance and brilliant finale.

He told Peyt, "I think you might want to take her in the head and help her clean up in private before she eats her breakfast."

Tracy features turned ashen and she looked aghast.

Peyt said, "I don't think she's got much of an appetite after all me and you've done fed her, Mister Nick."

Kane lifted the lid of the silver service and surveyed the chilled viands. "I'm famished. I'll be able to tuck all this away if she can't." He bit into a strawberry. "Go ahead, Peyt, take her in there and show her what being a modern day nigra means to a white woman."

Kane's friend grinned. "Aye aye, cap'n, if you insist."

Then the black man marched Tracy into the toilet and closed the door behind them. While Kane enjoyed the fruit tray he overheard scraps of talk coming from the head. ". . . now get those panties off, white girl . . . don't sass me, bitch . . . I'll skin your fat ass good . . ."

Kane listened to the sound of Peyt sodomizing the girl before he spanked her with his belt. Tracy's protests fell on deaf ears as smacks of leather fell on soft flesh. Kane lit a cheroot after his breakfast. He had a little time.



Gaming 1



This story is a work of fiction containing adult material of a graphic and erotic nature. It is intended for the enjoyment of adult readers. You must be 18 or older to read this story; you must be able to read erotica in your own community and not be offended by the contents. The author has agreed to allow this story to be read online by adult readers on selected and approved websites. Any questions including requests for permission to use this story on other websites or alternative media should be directed to me, Greg Lee Hunt at the e-mail address below. 

Authors Note:  Your feedback is important to me. I want to know whether you liked my story or you hated it and why. I welcome suggestions and ideas that might be incorporated into the follow-up submissions. Please e-mail me at the address in my profile. I promise to read every e-mail concerning this story and in spite of a busy business and personal schedule, I will try to respond promptly. (I will not, however, respond to personal attacks. Criticism is fine, just no character attacks). I have enjoyed writing this story (lots of tissues, towels, and lubricant) and I hope my story will have YOU cumming too. Happy reading 

Authors Introduction -- Gaming is a multi-layered story filled with all kinds of games – casino games, mind games, power games, and, of course, 'sex games' –all taking place on several levels at the same time. The story is set in Las Vegas, Nevada, also known as 'Sin City', the gambling capital of the world. While 'Gaming' is primarily an 'erotic' story, it does contain other elements that make it interesting to me as an author. The story involves intrigue, blackmail, double-crosses, retribution and other elements found in mystery novels.  

The protagonists are not typical erotica characters. They are three married middle-aged women (sisters). They are well-heeled suburban housewives who fly to Las Vegas angry because their husbands have gone away on a ten day fishing trip giving the women short notice and leaving them alone without plans. In Vegas the three women win a fortune at the tables and are subsequently blackmailed and sexually corrupted by three much younger men. The story contains scenes illustrating a variety of erotic genres including younger men-older women; non-consensual sex'; group sex; slut wives; lesbian sex; exhibitionism; interracial sex; oral and anal; and toys and fetishes. There are references to incest, though none actually occurs; and, in future submissions, (this is only the first half of the story) there will be some female domination and perhaps (I haven't yet decided) there will even be a scene containing man-to-man sex. It is the author's hope that there is something here to appeal to almost everyone's prurient tastes. 

* * * * *

GAMING Prologue – Family Games 

Maureen walked into the house returning from a shopping trip to the mall. She heard the shower running. It had to be Shawn. His car was parked in the driveway. This was his last day at home. He would be returning to University to begin his senior year tomorrow. God she would miss having him home. He was her youngest and favorite son. 

It had been so wonderful having him home. Yet ironically she was relieved that after tomorrow the temptation that she'd felt for the last few weeks would no longer be there. The incestuous feelings of lust for her son that had reemerged during Shawn's visit were becoming increasingly difficult for her to suppress. They'd started up again on the first day of his visit and built since then. What triggered those desires was seeing Shawn wearing a skin hugging blue Speedo swimming in the pool with his fiancée Jennifer as Maureen observed the growing bulge forming in Shawn's crotch. She imagined that Jennifer would soon take care of the problem. Her mouth watered. God! Sometimes she would give just about anything to be able to change places with her future daughter. She'd fantasized about sucking her youngest son's cock from the time he was thirteen. She'd resisted the craving every time, just as she was trying to do now, but he was so tempting. She could feel itching, dampness and tingling sensations in her crotch. Maureen had experienced similar feelings about her older sons Ryan and Erik too, but with Shawn the yearnings and forbidden desires were more frequent and much stronger. 

Maureen's husband, Steve, had been so busy with his growing surgical practice for the last year that he'd hardly had time for her. But, he had a vacation coming and maybe they could use that time for her to quench her considerable sexual thirst, which Shawn's visit had only exacerbated.

…….

Peggy lay on her unmade bed, wiping the tears from her eyes. Her lovely velvet dressing gown was untied and open at the waist. It gave her the opportunity to view the reflection of her naked body in the mirror. Peggy had to admit that she had a great figure. She would be fifty in a week and a half, but she had the body of a woman half her age. She had long shapely legs; a lovely firm ass; a firm belly; and, best of all, her perfect 36 C breasts, crowned by large aureoles and three quarter-inch long bullet shaped nipples, were firm and not at all saggy. Plastic surgery had taken care of that. God she was horny and how she loved sex, so how come she was married to a small dicked husband who had no sex drive. Worse than that he suffered from premature ejaculation. Not once in twenty-seven years of marriage had he ever been able to wait long enough to have Peggy warm up. This morning was no different. Edward had left for the office only minutes earlier having blown his wad and leaving Peggy high and dry as usual. She opened the drawer in her nightstand and pulled out the long, metallic cylindrical vibrator that she frequently used to satisfy her sexual needs.

……

They had fought over the usual things. Brian wanted more sex and Barbara wanted to spend more money. As usual the argument was very loud and heated. God! Brian could be miserly, Barbara thought, denying her the lovely necklace she had seen at Tiffany's and that she couldn't resist wanting to buy. In an act of vindictiveness, Brian had cut off her access to his credit cards and her own were maxed out. Brian left in a huff, frustrated by Barbara's refusal to give him what he wanted most – a blowjob. He'd actually begged her, acting like a little kid, tears in his eyes. She had given him head only once before, and that was on their honeymoon, twenty years earlier. She told him afterwards that she'd found the experience of having a penis in her mouth repulsive and disgusting. 

"Little twerp" Barbara yelled as her husband slammed the door behind him. What a wimp Brian is, the wuss thinks he needs to beg me for it. If he were a real man, he wouldn't ask – he'd demand it, he'd take it, he would force me to do it! She thought. Barbara liked being taken and used. She took out her cell phone and speed dialed a number that she saved for the times when her horniness overwhelmed her. 

GAMING Part 1 - Luck Is No Lady Tonight

(Three middle-aged sisters fly to Las Vegas angry with their husbands. They win a fortune at the dice table and become 'game' stalked by three much younger men. The young men are college fraternity brothers with less than honorable intentions looking to cash in of the women's good fortune by any means necessary.) 

Maureen, a very pretty, plumpish woman wearing a purple dress leaned against the table rail, nervously drumming the nicely manicured fingers of her left hand against its lacquered surface. She stared intently at the red and white plastic cubes resting in her fleshy right hand. Then she closed her palm and made fist. She brushed the tightly clenched fist to her lips and whispered "lady luck please be good to me one last time!" She shook her closed hand vigorously and felt the dice rattling inside them. Her sisters, Peggy and Barbara, flanked her --- massaging her shoulders in a gesture of support. The three women fashionably dressed were obviously well heeled. A huge stack of casino chips lay piled up on the table front of them. A fortune would be riding on the outcome of one toss. The sisters had already agreed that this would be their last roll of the dice this evening – win or lose. 

The three women had arrived in Las Vegas earlier in the day. They would not have been there at all but for an inconsiderate action by their husbands'. The three brothers' had hastily scheduled a fishing trip to a remote river in Alaska. They'd be gone ten days leaving their wives stranded and alone. This announcement did not sit well with the three ladies. They were so infuriated, in fact, that it took an unusually generous offer from their husbands' to placate them. Each husband wrote a check for $5,000 from his own personal account made out to his wife. "You can spend this anyway you like and no questions will ever be asked," they said. Then packing only their outdoor gear and fishing tackle the husbands drove off to the airport. They were in a so much of a hurry to leave that they'd neglected to kiss their wives goodbye. 

When their anger finally subsided, the three sisters decided to pool the money. "Hey, I know, why don't we fly to Vegas, we can splurge and really indulge ourselves." Barbara suggested. 

Peggy agreed. "That's a wonderful idea, sis. Let's see if we can make airplane and hotel reservations, so we can leave tomorrow." 

"Yeah, I'm still hot under the collar about the way Steve and the guys abandoned us. He's been so busy with his practice lately. When he gets home, all he wants to do is eat dinner, and wind down then it's off to sleep. I was really hoping we could use this time off for a little romantic getaway. It's been much too long, if you know what I mean." She double winked. "Maybe a little hot casino action will cool me down!" Maureen wisecracked. 

It was an extraordinarily busy week in Las Vegas. Using their frequent flyer miles the ladies were able to get airline reservations. Getting a hotel room was another matter. There were five major conventions in town at the same time and all of the good rooms were already booked. The sisters' were used to first class accommodations and were not about to settle for staying at a sleazy motel. Peggy, the oldest sister at fifty, solved that problem with a single phone call. She contacted one of her friends, recently widowed, who owned a luxurious vacation villa in Las Vegas. The woman was glad to offer Peggy and her sisters the use of her home. 

A large, noisy crowd was gathered around the craps table. Most were drawn there by the action and the incredible winning streak of the three middle-aged women. Many in the crowd had been betting with them and letting their own bets ride with the fortunes of the lucky ladies. Maureen held onto the dice for nearly an hour, and after a slow start she'd either made her point or rolled an unlikely combination of successive sevens or elevens. Standing in the crowd unnoticed up until now were three strikingly handsome young men. Like the others in the boisterous crowd they'd been drawn to the table by the excitement surrounding the lucky streak. Down on their own luck, the three men were fraternity brothers. They had been attending a national convention of 'Greeks'. They had lost not only their own stake but also some of fraternity's funds that were entrusted to them, which they had foolishly gambled away and not invested in a new IFC program like they were supposed to. Nearly broke, they watched the three ladies with increasing interest. 

It was Barbara, the tall gorgeous redhead and youngest of the three sisters, who first noticed that the handsome lads were eyeing her and her sisters. She nudged her sister Peggy, a perky pretty blonde. Peggy nonchalantly looked up, took a quick peak at the three younger men and smiled approvingly. Then she whispered something to her two sisters. They nodded their heads and chuckled among themselves. Upset with their husbands, the three ladies had started drinking on the short airplane flight and hadn't stopped. They'd already downed several rounds of double Scotches while playing at the craps table. They were well on their way to being oiled. Their winning streak exhilarated them even more. "Hmm, those young men are very nice looking, but they're also so young." Peggy thought to herself. She allowed a playful, slightly naughty thought to enter her mind for an instant then quickly dismissed it, ". If only I were young and single again! But then, I suppose anything is possible in Vegas" 

As the pile of chips in front of the ladies grew larger and larger, the three young men whose names were Scott, Jason and Chris, gradually moved in closer. Scott, the leader of the group, had tousled blond hair and could have easily been mistaken for a male fashion model. Jason was a jock, standing 6-5 and possessing a ripped, chiseled body: Chris was a handsome young man lithe and of mixed racial heritage. He had a fetching smile that could melt ice. Ordinarily, these young men would not have given the older women a second glance, but these were not ordinary circumstances. Scott turned to his friends and whispered something that was intended only for their ears. Not that it mattered anyway because the din around the table was so loud that he could have shouted at the top of his lungs and still not be overheard. 

The three young men ordered a round of double Scotches and when the cocktail waitress brought them, Scott gestured to the tall gorgeous redhead on the left, and finally caught her attention. He mouthed the words "Would you like a drink?" and held it out toward her. Barbara smiled and nodded. Her luscious mouth forming the words "Thank you". The young men relayed the drinks over to the three women. 

Scott was an experienced fraternity party bartender. By their actions he could tell that the women were already 'feeling quite a buzz'. Their condition suited his purposes perfectly. The older women would be easy prey for the sinister scheme he was concocting. If it worked they'd get back the money they'd lost and collect a little interest, in more ways than one. All of a sudden, the three women, who were at least old enough to be the young men's mothers, were beginning to look very, very, attractive. 

Barbara kissed her older sister on the cheek. "C'mon seven!" she whispered to herself. Peggy, the oldest sister, kept herself in excellent shape. She looked much younger than her age. She brushed her fingers nervously against Maureen's forearm. Maureen drew her hand back and let the dice fly toward the far end of the table. 

The dice hit the railing at the far end, caromed off and tumbled around over and over again. To the sisters the wait seemed an eternity. Everything was happening in ultra-slow motion. The first of the two dice bounced and twisted one last time and landed with 'five' pips facing up. When the second die finally landed a 'two' was showing. The hushed crowd broke out in a roar – cheering and applauding. "Seven, the lucky lady is a winner again!" the table boss announced with a cavalier attitude. 

The three sisters squealed in delight and jumped up and down, hugging and kissing each other. Meanwhile the croupier was raking in the dice and adding to the already mountainous pile of chips. He raked the dice in front of Maureen, who brushed them aside. 

"I think my sister's and I are through for the evening. We don't want to press our luck any longer." Peggy said, taking charge of the situation as usual. "Where do we go and what do we need to do to collect our winnings?" 

"I'll take care of everything for you, ma-am." The pit boss said politely. He turned to the croupier, "Tommy, would you pack the chips in that satchel!" 

Peggy who liked to take charge of things turned to the nattily dressed pit boss smiled and handed him a handful of thousand dollar casino chips…" Thank you for everything. This is for you and the croupier." The pit boss smiled and Tommy, the croupier, nodded his appreciation too. 

"The casino manager will take care of everything for you. He's expecting you and is already waiting in front of the cashier's office. Congratulations again ladies on your winnings. We hope you will come back to Caesar's real soon." 

The polite and efficient casino manager met the ladies and explained the procedures. Everything would take about twenty minutes. "In the meantime why don't you make yourselves comfortable at the bar. Drinks are compliments of the house of course. I'll find you when everything is ready. By the way, how would you like to receive payment – casino credit? A check? Or do you want it in cash? I'd recommend the first method. That's the safest option, but it's totally up to you, of course." 

Peggy thought it over for a few seconds before consulting with her sisters'. "You know, after the way our husbands took off without checking with us, I'm not sure we owe them any of the rewards of this trip. We'd better take our winnings in cash that way Edward, Steven and Brian will never have to know about it. We can open our own safe deposit box or set up our own account and use this for play money whenever we need it. Three equal shares, of course" Her sisters nodded in agreement. 

She turned to the manager and spoke for her sisters. "We want everything in cash, please." 

The casino manager smiled politely. "Are you staying at the Hotel ladies? If you are, after we count the money we will keep it in your own separate safe compartment and under armed guard for you. Of course it will be available anytime you want it" 

"No thank you, we're staying with friends. Their place is very secure also." Peggy replied becoming impatient with and put off by the Casino Manager's obvious tactics. "And we'd like to take it with us." 

The manager furrowed his brow and gave the ladies a patronizing look. "Very well then, ladies. I'll take the chips into the office and when we've determined the amount of the winnings, one of you will need to come back into the counting room to confirm the amount and to sign for the cash. You can watch the entire counting process on the closed circuit television monitor or one of you is welcome to come with me to watch the count. That's all there is to it." 

"No that's okay we trust you." Maureen said. 

The Casino Manager paused and thoughtfully added; "You know there were an awful lot of people who saw you win a very large sum of money tonight. Vegas isn't so safe anymore and you are three women alone. Caesar's would be happy to provide you a chauffeured stretch limo to take you home, if you like. That way you'll be safe from the creeps who sometimes prey on unsuspecting winners." He was polite, well trained and seemed to be very efficient. He was also ingratiating himself to the ladies, fishing for a generous tip. 

Peggy nodded appreciatively. It wasn't unusual for Las Vegas Casinos to provide perks like chauffeured limousines to high rollers. Beside it would be a public relations disaster for Caesars Palace and the City of Las Vegas if the ladies were robbed or worse on their way home. 

The manager handed a piece of paper and his fancy gold pen to Peggy, "Sign here please!" 

Peggy signed it with a flourish. Then the three women sat down at the bar and ordered another round of double Scotches neat. The bartender delivered them promptly. They hadn't been sitting at the bar for more than a couple of minutes when the three athletic and handsome young men they'd observed at the craps table earlier sauntered over and sat down nearby. 

"Good evening and congratulations on your good fortune ladies. Can my friends and I buy you drinks? It's the very least we can do because your luck has brought us luck too!" Scott was lying, of course, but it was a nice way to break the ice. 




Gaming 1



"No thank you, as you can see we already have drinks, but since we were the lucky ones we'd like to buy YOU drinks. The three of you ARE old enough to drink aren't you? Peggy jibed with a perky tease in her voice. Up close the three young men were even more handsome than they looked from a distance when she glanced up at them at the craps table. 'Real Hunks' was the expression her daughter Beth would have used to describe them. 

"Would you like to see our ID's?' Chris retorted. 

Scott flashed a toothy smile. "I'm Scott. These are my fraternity brothers. The tall jock is Jason, and the smart ass with the permanent tan is Chris." 

"What are you drinking?" Peggy asked. 

"Whatever the three of you are drinking is just fine with us." Jason quipped. Peggy ordered another round of Double Scotches for the women and their younger friends. 

"I'm Peggy, these are my sisters. The redhead is Barbara and the chubby one is Maureen. What brought you gentlemen to Las Vegas?" 

"We're our fraternity's representatives to the National Interfraternity Council Convention. And you ladies, what brought you here?" 

"Oh, we decided to fly here on a lark. Our husbands have gone fishing, so we came here to have some fun". Peggy immediately regretted giving out so much information. 

"We've been here all week. Our convention ended today." Scott continued, trying to make the three women feel at ease. "So we'll be leaving for LA bright and early tomorrow morning. We couldn't help overhearing the casino manager telling you that Vegas isn't so safe anymore and we agree. There are a lot of seedy types around who prey on women like you. Believe it or not that happened to my best friend's mother. She got mugged and was treated for a broken arm, bruises on her face and a concussion. Vegas can be a dangerous place. We'd be happy to escort you home, just to make certain you get there safely of course." Scott sounded sincere, but even at twenty-one years old he was already a skillful liar with lots of practice under his belt. 

"And why would we want you to do that? What do you expect to get for helping us?" Barbara asked. She was as always suspicious, guarded and skeptical. 

"Oh, Nothing. Nothing at all!" Chris piped in. "Its just that you ladies remind us so much of our favorite aunts. We're very fond of them. Besides our fraternity code requires us to be helpful to others, and my friend Scott is right, with all the money around here, things can get hairier than in my old 'hood." That was a bald-faced lie of course, Chris had never been anywhere near the hood, growing up privileged, the son of a wealthy black doctor and his wife, a blond Danish former super model, whose face had graced the covers of magazines world-wide. Chris' charm was so sincere that it softened Barbara's mood for a moment. 

"Oh I think that we'll be able to make it home on our own, besides the chauffer will be there to help us, but thank you for offering." Peggy said declining the offer politely and smiling. Barbara nodded in agreement; only Maureen seemed a little disappointed. 

The ladies downed their drinks while the young men slowly nursed theirs. The casino manager returned, looked over the young men and scowled. "Are these GENTLEmen bothering you ladies? If so, I'll call security now and have them thrown out of the casino" 

"No, no, no. That's quite all right!" These young men are friends of my sister's sons who we happened to bump into here in the casino and they were just congratulating us, catching up on things, and making idle chat. We're just fine." Peggy smiled at the manager. She wasn't telling the truth, of course, but the boys were charming, nice to look at, good conversationalists and they seemed harmless enough. So there was no reason to shoo them away. 

The casino manager whispered something in Peggy's ear. Her eye's sparkled and she beamed a broad smile. "Oh my, I didn't think it would be that much!" She huddled with her sisters and they tittered excitedly at the news. 

"Would you follow me please?" Peggy staggered getting up; Jason helped her to her feet. She weaved and reeled a bit while following the casino manager and finally disappearing behind the steel lined door to the cashier's office. 

She returned a few minutes later accompanied by the manager who was holding a leather satchel. She shook his hand and thanked him as did her sisters. "The limo is already waiting for you at the casino entrance. I'm Anthony; you ladies are welcome to be my personal guests at Caesars at anytime when you're in Las Vegas. I've written my private number on the back of my card, please feel free to call me if I can assist you in any way." 

Barbara and Maureen both stumbled getting up and were having difficulty walking. Peggy was feeling very woozy from all of the liquor she'd consumed. 

"On second thought, I suppose we could use a little help getting to the limo, would you gentlemen mind helping us?" Peggy remarked, as Scott offered her his elbow.. The three young men extended their elbows and guided the ladies to the Casino entrance. Anthony, the manager, held the satchel with the cash, locking it in a safe-like compartment built in to the limo. He handed Peggy one key and the chauffer another. 

Maureen almost slipped again getting into the car, and Peggy felt a bit wobbly. "I guess we need more help than I thought, why don't the three of you hop in and come along for the ride. I'm sure the chauffer will be happy to drive you back to the hotel or to wherever you're staying?" Peggy said, slurring her words. The three young men tossed three small handbags they had checked with casino security into the trunk of the limousine, then hopped in and sat facing the three sisters. Peggy gave the chauffer the address; he nodded, closed the privacy curtain, gunned the engine, made a sharp turn and headed out. 

Once they were underway, Jason pulled a rolled cigarette from his shirt pocket and showed it to the ladies. "Would you mind if I smoke ladies?" 

"Yes, as a matter of fact we would!" Barbara popped up. "I'm an ex-smoker and my two sisters are allergic to tobacco." 

"Oh but this isn't tobacco, ladies. It's marijuana!" 

Barbara giggled. "Well in that case I wouldn't mind at all. I used to toke up quite a bit back when I was in college. She admitted. Her sisters seemed astonished by the revelation. What about you Peggy and Mo?" 

"Oh yes, I smoked marijuana a couple of times when I was living in New York. It doesn't seem to bother me like tobacco does. In fact I kind of enjoyed getting high on it!" Peggy volunteered. 

Maureen who was spontaneous and sometimes reckless chimed in. "Well I've never tried it before, but I'm game! Could I try some now?" She seemed so innocent and naive. 

"Sure why not, let's all share", her sisters nodded in agreement. Jason lit the joint and passed it around. 

Barbara was the first one to reach for the joint. A wide grin appeared covering the breadth of her face. She put the thick joint of marijuana to her sultry, full lips and Scott lit it. She inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs, held it there then slowly released it, her mouth tasting the rich flavor, her nostrils sucking in the sweet aroma. Smiling, she turned and handed the joint to Maureen saying, "This is fucking good shit." 

The smell of the sweet cannabis smoke filled the interior of the limo all the way to their destination. 

GAMING Part 2 --- Evening the Odds on a Very Odd Evening

(Peggy, Maureen and Barbara invite Scott, Jason and Chris into their vacation villa for a nightcap. Peggy makes a discovery about Jason's anatomy and shares it with her skeptical sisters. The young men doctor the women's drinks with a hypnotic-aphrodisiac drug and trick them into playing strip poker) 

By the time the limo arrived at the luxury gated residential community where the three sisters were staying on the outskirts of Las Vegas, everyone in the party was extremely high, very laid back and comfortable. The women were feeling more relaxed and less suspicious and decided to invite the young college men in for a nightcap. It was still very early in the evening and it was the least they could do. Besides, they were not thinking very clearly anymore. All of their defense mechanisms and logical processes had been wiped away by the marijuana. They didn't know it then, but this was only the first of many bad decisions they'd be making. 

Once they were inside, Chris and Scott sat down on one of the plush sofas. Barbara and Maureen sat facing them. Jason remained standing and lit another joint. Peggy slumped against the fireplace mantle feeling too smashed to even sit down. Though she was very drunk she looked serene and extremely beautiful. She felt the pressure building up inside her bladder and excused herself to go to the bathroom. Before she had taken two steps she slipped and started to fall. Panic stricken, Peggy tried to break her fall in any way she could; she reached out and grabbed for Jason's thigh. She tugged and clutched at it trying to get a good grip. When her hand grasped his pant leg it also grabbed onto something beneath the fabric. That 'something' felt long, hard and very thick. Her movements were frantic and desperate as her hand groped and fumbled around wildly hanging onto his pant leg and to whatever lay beneath it. She clutched onto this newfound anchor. Suddenly, Peggy realized what she was holding on to. She'd grabbed onto Jason's rock hard cock. Peggy's eyes widened in amazement, she could not believe that anyone could have a penis as large as this one seemed to be. Finally, she was able to stabilize and Jason helped her back to her feet. 

Back on her feet, Peggy adjusted her clothing and whispered something to Barbara, who had a skeptical look on her face. 

Peggy felt excited, slightly nauseous and an urgent need to relieve herself. She also needed an excuse to share her 'naughty' discovery with her sisters. "Would you excuse me please, I think I need to wash my face and straighten up, besides it's awfully warm in here and I need to cool myself off. Babs and Mo, why don't you join me?" 

"Sure sis, that IS a good idea. Isn't it Mo? Would you gentlemen mind fixing the thermostat and do something about making the temperature cooler while we're gone?" 

The young men smiled. "Yeah sure, take your time ladies. We'll take care of everything for you." 

Peggy picked up the satchel with the cash and the three women left the room. 

After first depositing their winnings in a safe the three women found their way into the large and luxurious Master bathroom. 

Peggy tingled with excitement, eager to tell her sisters the secret of what she'd discovered. "Mo, you won't believe this. I mentioned it to Babs in the other room, but I wanted to share it with you too. You know when I nearly fell in the living room and to stop myself I latched onto that handsome young man's leg…Jason, I think is his name." 

"Yes, it WAS Jason. It's amazing how much he looks like my son Shawn isn't it? Anyway, you were saying?" 

"Well not only did I grab onto his leg, I grabbed onto something else too. I latched onto something that was much more interesting. I don't have to paint a picture for you, do I?" 

"No Peg …I may be an airhead but I'm not stupid! I saw it. You grabbed onto his penis … and so what??" 

"So, it was enormous and he had an erection. His 'thing' extended down nearly to his knee. I've been married to Edward for almost twenty-seven years and his is …well I'm sure I've told you this before, Edward's penis is no bigger than a little cocktail weenie even when he's aroused and has an erection. This one felt like a huge sausage or a salami. It's been many years since I've seen or touched anyone's penis other than Edward's but I don't remember EVER seeing or touching anything that big. Do you know what I thought about when I first touched it?" 

"No what?" Barbara came back, sarcastically. 

"That he had a baseball bat hanging between his legs!" 

"Ooops, "Batter-Up!" Maureen wisecracked. 

Barbara rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Peggy you are so full of it. You're always exaggerating. No one can have "a thing" as big as the one you're describing. It would be impossible for him to have sex because no woman would be able to hold something that big in her vagina, let alone get it in there in the first place!" 

"We'll it was, it was T-H-I-I-S BIG!!" Peggy pulled apart her open palms and held them up for her sisters to see. Then she made a circle about the size of the bottom of a coke bottle. "And this thick around, I swear. As far as his being able to have sex goes, we've all given birth to kids and we know how wide we stretched during childbirth. A woman's vagina can stretch to accommodate a 'cock' …I mean a penis of any size. The human body has of lots of flexibility. I've always been told that I have a very small mouth, but whenever my dentist tells me to "open wide"; somehow I can always manage to do it. Besides, if they can stretch a limo, I'm sure that with lots of lubrication, plenty of foreplay, some gentle prodding and patience, any woman worth her salt should be able to handle it. The lucky woman might have to take a pain killer and use a shoe horn to stuff it in, though!" Peggy laughed at her own joke but Barbara wasn't amused. 

Maureen snickered at her sister's description. "Both of you are always telling me what a big mouth I have. And whenever Steve and I go to a ballgame, I always order at least two or sometimes even three of those hot dogs, you know the 'foot long' one's that are really thick. I usually manage to finish them off too, very easily…so I could probably hold it … in my mouth, that is!" She smiled mischievously and managed another little chuckle. 

Peggy tried to reinforce her point. "His penis was so thick and hard that it reminded me of one of those hefty pieces of iron pole that I've seen at some of Edward's construction sites. To tell the truth I wouldn't mind climbing that pole!" 

"I can see that this conversation has quickly gone into the toilet. You'll never convince me!" Barbara was frowning. 

"Oh Babs, you're always such a little priss! Relax! We're just talking! Can't we girls have a little fun talking about what we can't or won't have?" 

Ordinarily the three women would never have engaged in this kind of bawdy banter. Sex talk of any kind was definitely out of character for Barbara, but the combination of the alcohol and marijuana had the effect of loosening lips. Besides, they knew nothing more than talk would ever come of this. Even in their present condition they would remain faithful to their marriage vows. Oh, there had been temptations, the usual marital problems, and of course, their anger about husbands' sudden departure remained a hot issue, but the three sisters had married successful, wealthy men who treated them like queens. The sisters may have been angry and tempted, but they weren't foolish or reckless. Or so they thought. 

Peggy looked a little flushed. "Enough of this sex talk. It's making me hot! I think we had better rejoin our guests before they become curious about our taking so long!" 

When the three women returned to the living room, the boys were waiting for them. They seemed very relaxed and they were definitely polite and helpful. Jason had already poured another round of drinks for the women. Chris handed them the glasses. Unbeknownst to the three sisters, their drinks were doctored with a tasteless, colorless, 'date rape' drug. This drug was the newest and strongest of its kind available. It was ideal for what was planned for a number of reasons. It started to take effect immediately after being ingested, with the maximum effect kicking-in between forty-five minutes and an hour later. What's more, unlike some of the other designer drugs, there were not known adverse reactions. The drug's effect typically lasted twelve to eighteen hours. What was so insidious about this particular drug was that while under its influence the victims remained fully conscious and totally aware of what they were doing. It was only afterward when the initial effects wore off that the drug permanently and totally erased all memories of anything that had occurred while the user was under its influence. When the drug was combined with alcohol or other substances, it had a hypnotic effect that made the user extremely receptive to outside suggestions. The drug was also a strong aphrodisiac. Under its influence, women became sexually energized and their lust was almost insatiable. They were capable of carrying on almost superhuman extended sex for hours at a time. Even after the drug's impact wore off and it had been excreted from the body, the use of marijuana would re-trigger its aphrodisiac effect for twenty-one days. The three young men had previously used this drug at fraternity parties and in the subsequent gangbangs and orgies they had gained first hand knowledge of how it affected co-eds. Since they had never used this drug on more mature women, Jason decided to use one-and-a-half times the usual dose. 

The women sat down on the sofas with the young men. Looking at his watch, Scott spoke. "Oh geez, it's still very early, why it's not even nine o'clock, yet." He was the consummate charmer and flatterer. "You three ladies are extremely good company, my friends and I are really are enjoying talking to you. Seems a shame cutting the evening short, when you're having fun. Would you mind if we stayed and chatted a little longer, we've got nothing to do and we wanted to show you how much we appreciate your changing our luck. Before we saw you at the craps table, we were losing badly. In fact, we were down to our last few bucks; but the three of you really changed our luck and we recouped very nicely. We owe you, big time!" 

"Hey, I've got an idea" Chris piped in, "why don't we play some cards or something? Are you ladies as lucky at cards as you were at the craps table? I'll bet you are. And I'd also be willing to wager that you could teach us a thing or two that might help us become better gamblers in the future. After this past week, I can see that we need a lot of help if we expect to win." 

The women were delighted. They nodded their heads and smiled. "Sure why not?" they thought. Their husbands' had made their choices and abandoned them for ten days. The women were enjoying the companionship and the interest they were receiving from these charming, good looking and certainly attentive young men. 

"Let's not play for money though", Peggy suggested, "we don't want to take yours and we certainly don't want you to take ours. That would create bad feelings for the losers afterward. Taking money from the house at a casino is one thing – but taking money from another individual is another." 

" You know, you're right, you are really right." Jason said playing along and flattering Peggy's ego, "I guess we could play for beers, cookies, or matchsticks instead of money, after all, its all just good clean fun. Or is there something else that we might want to play for?" 

There was a short pause, and then Maureen, still thinking about her sister's description of Jason's cock, blurted out, "Oh I know! Why don't we play strip poker?" 

Bingo. That was exactly what the boys were thinking anyway. Maureen had walked into the trap the young men had set for the ladies and soon the boys would be reaping the rewards of their hunting expedition. 

"Hmmm, hold on. I don't know about that!" Peggy said, hesitating. Maureen had spoken too hastily and without consulting Barbara and her. The idea of playing 'strip poker' with these appealing young men did have a certain fascination for Peggy, and the thought had crossed her mind too, but… she was lady who had been married for a long time. Despite his shortcomings in bed her husband treated her well and she was well off financially. She had grown daughters and her first grandchild was on the way. Playing strip poker with three young men they'd met just hours before sounded a bit dicey. She could see from the expression on Barbara's face that she was uncomfortable too. 




Gaming 1



"Yes, I agree. Scott replied, "I'm sure we can find something else to play for, if that's what you ladies want. With the kind of luck you've had, we'd probably wind up being the big losers anyway. I know I would be embarrassed if I had to strip naked for you ladies. 

"So would I," Chris nodded in agreement. "Jason wouldn't mind though, well because Jason is -- how do we put it ... 'Really Hung' -- and he's a little bit of a show-off." 

Peggy wanted to stall for time to allow she and her sisters to think more clearly. "I'd like to talk this over with my sisters for a couple of minutes, you young men don't mind, do you?" 

The three women huddled. Peggy pulled rank and spoke first. "What do you think ladies? I feel confident that we would win more hands than these boys would, but I wouldn't want to embarrass any of us, on the outside chance that one or more of us might lose." She was beginning to feel the initial effects of the drug. 

Maureen chimed in with her two-cents "I've been lucky all afternoon and evening. I still have that lucky feeling." Then seizing on the jealousy that she knew existed between her younger and older sisters, Maureen tried to capitalize on it. You know Peg, if Jason has to strip, it will prove once and for all who was right about the size of his penis, you or Babs? " Then, she turned to her younger sister and repeated the same argument. 

Barbara softened a little but she still seemed to have serious reservations. She knew that she had the best position because she could cancel out her sisters' votes with her single veto. She was curious and not totally opposed but she wanted some reassurances. "You realize that there is still some risk that all or some one of us might lose. You know that I'm very shy about exposing my body to anybody. I don't want to lose! Besides, I have a very successful career, and a very sensitive job. The smallest misstep and my reputation could be ruined forever. The two of you are just housewives, so it doesn't matter as much. I can't afford to lose and I can't take any chances that I might lose." 

"Okay, okay." Mo, who was really eager to play, grew uncharacteristically more assertive. ", I am feeling lucky. I'll tell you what Babs, if it looks like you are going to lose – or that you might have to take off your bra or panties and you don't want to do it, I'll take off something of mine instead so that you won't have to." 

"Now, that's an offer that has possibilities!" Barbara looked thoughtful, weighing her sister's proposition. 

Scott had been huddling with the boys decided that it was time to sweeten the pot. He shouted, interrupting the ladies conversation for a moment. "If we lose, my bros and me will put on a little naked 'sexy' show for you ladies. If you lose all you have to do is strip and then you can put your clothes back on immediately." 

Maureen was saving her own trump card for the right moment. This seemed to be it. "Look, our husbands left us at home holding the bag so they could have ten days of fun trying to catch some smelly fish. YUK!! There are three very appealing young men sitting over there. I personally wouldn't mind seeing what any or all of them look like naked. I once went to Chippendale's, that 'male strip club in LA, with my girlfriend Debby, and"… Maureen face was rosy with embarrassment and she licked her chops … "well, all I can say is WOW, yummy, Sluuuurp!! We're in Las Vegas, we're fully grown adults, and we're on vacation. They have male strip shows for ladies in some of the nightclubs here too. I know that our husbands would probably take in a 'sex show' if they were in our situation. So why shouldn't we have our own little strip party right here in private? Pardon my French Babs, but if men can go to 'gentlemen's clubs to see a little 'tits and ass' and these days maybe even some things that are more 'private', why shouldn't we women have the same privilege of viewing some 'pricks and asses' for our entertainment when we want to?'" 

Peggy finally came around to Maureen's side. The drug and the cumulative impact of all the liquor she'd consumed had destroyed her ability to reason and her normally sound judgment. "Look, these are young attractive college men who can have any coed they choose. Why should they want to see three 'old ladies' naked when they can have all the naked 'young' women they want? I think they're just trying to have some fun and to humor us, a little. Anyway I vote that we play. But look Babs; we won't do it, unless you agree also. It's got to be all of us or none of us!!" 

"I don't like being ganged up on but you've made some good points, and I guess I can go along with that." Mo had brought to the surface the anger Barbara was feeling for her husband, Brian. She'd been angry with him even before he'd announced he was going on the fishing trip. Sure why not, she thought, I deserve to have some fun, too! 

"So you'll do it then?" Maureen asked excitedly. 

Barbara nodded her head. 

"Yippee, lets play some strip poker boys. Deal the cards!" 

Scott winked at Chris. This con had been even easier than he had predicted it would be. They didn't have to use any additional inducements to persuade the ladies. The hunt was over and now the real fun of the game was about to begin. They would play with two decks of cards. One of the decks was marked; the other was unmarked. Part of the plan was for the boys to lose early. This would encourage the ladies to continue playing and make them think they were winning. Later, when one of the boys had the deal, they would find some excuse for changing decks and substitute the marked one for the other. By that time the full effect of the drug would have kicked in anyway. After that, it wouldn't matter anyway; the ladies would have lost both the smaller game of strip poker and the larger, more dangerous and much more important game. A game that they knew nothing about and didn't even suspect existed. 

GAMING Part 3 – Three Wild Jacks Take Three Nasty Ladies

(With their defense mechanisms down and their inhibitions gone, the three women yield to temptation, neediness, and their repressed sexuality. They engage in wild sexual activities with their guests, and orgy ensues. The young men photograph the women in compromising sexual situations.) 

After twenty minutes of play, the strip poker game was progressing pretty much according to Scott's plan. Scott, Jason and Chris lost most of the early hands and soon they were stripped down to only their sox and boxers. Of course each of the women had lost a few hands and those items of clothing lay in a building pile in the middle of the room, mixed in with the young men's clothes, but so far, just as planned, the women were winning by a large margin. This further bolstered the women's confidence and made them feel bolder and invincible. The outcome of the poker game seemed assured. The boy's would lose and then they'd put on a nude dance show - and maybe even more - for the three women. By this time, the sisters were feeling the full impact of the drug and their sex hormones were bubbling – even Barbara's, though she as always kept her erotic thoughts to herself. There was a lot more to Barbara's eroticism than she cared to reveal. She'd been very diligent in hiding it from everyone by seeming to be so prudish. No one close to her knew anything about her sexual excesses of the past or of her current clandestine sex life, least of all her husband and her two sisters. 

Despite his involvement in the card game, Scott's mind was working a mile a minute. Scott was a sociopath and a dangerous one because he was intelligent, well read, and he read people extremely well. He enjoyed playing games with them – and he especially enjoyed the game of 'mind fucking'. Glancing at the clock, he estimated that it had been about forty-five minutes since the three ladies ingested the drug laced Scotch. According to what he'd read and his previous experience with the insidious drug, the drug should be at its most potent stage at about this time. Anyone who had taken it would be very easily persuaded to try new ideas presented to them. Now was the time to 'up-the-ante' and raise the stakes in the long-term diabolical game he was devising. 

A student of Political Science and Psychology, Scott was Machiavellian. He liked the power he felt from using people. He thought he had the three women figured out. Maureen was a slut waiting to happen. There was all of this sexual energy right below the surface. When she got going, Maureen was probably an insatiable nympho. She seemed to have this thing for Jason. That was okay, because he knew Jason had unconventional tastes in women too. In addition to the typical sorority girls, female jocks and models he and his fraternity brothers dated, Jason also liked flirting with obese women, undernourished women, ugly women, handicapped women, and much older women, especially the mother's and even grandmother's of some of the sorority girls he'd previously fucked. He'd bring them to the fraternity house and have sex with them in front of hidden camera's set up for that purpose. He'd even fucked a few of them while some of his fraternity brothers watched the live show and settled for sloppy seconds, thirds, fourths, etc.. Jason called it the 'freak show'. Jason was weird that way. Maureen was easy pickings and an excellent candidate for the 'freak show'. 

He found Peggy intriguing. She certainly was beautiful and she was very sexy for a woman her age, which he guessed was around fifty. He read her to be very sexually frustrated and needy. She was perky, thought of herself as a leader and she put up a façade of being strong and decisive. She was unhappy about the way her life was going and she drank a little too much to disguise her unhappiness, She probably bossed her younger sisters around, too. She was exactly the kind of woman he liked to bring down and humiliate. That would be fun. He and his buddies would fuck Peggy silly. 

Scott hadn't totally figured Barbara out yet, but there was more to her then met the eye. Barbara acted the prude but she probably wasn't. She admitted she used marijuana and liked it. He also noticed the glint in her eye whenever Chris spoke. She probably had a thing for black men. Barbara was a challenge. Scott welcomed challenges. 

Scott leaned over and whispered something into Peggy's ear. She smiled broadly and nodded her head in agreement. The drug's hypnotic effect had taken hold of her and beside she was feeling extremely aroused by the reeking sexuality of the three semi-undressed young men sitting around the table – especially Scott. He was intelligent, gregarious, and there was a subtle animal magnetism that Scott exuded. Peggy felt herself getting wetter and feeling more tingles between her thighs with every passing second. 

"Scott's got a suggestion that should make the game a little more naughty and I for one like it." Peggy announced. 

"So tell us already" Maureen interrupted, "and we'll vote on it." She giggled. 

"Well Scott suggests that we change the rules of game like this. For each hand there is a winner and a loser – a best hand and a worst hand. The best hand gets to tell the person with the worst hand what item of clothing they have to remove and the worst hand has to… " 

"No that was your suggestion Peggy not mine" Scott interrupted manipulating the situation to his advantage, "but I remember your suggestion as being slightly different than they way you're saying it now." 

"Don't you remember what you suggested Peggy?" Scott leaned over and whispered in her ear again. Now it was Peggy's turn to giggle "Oh yes, that's right oops sorry, I'm a little shit-faced …" her words faltered, She was clearly having trouble "… the person with the worst hand gets to take the item of their choice off of the person with the best hand. No that's not right either, is it? Why don't you tell them what I told you, Scott"? 

"What Peggy wants is for the person who wins the hand to take off the clothing item of his or her choice off the person with the worst hand and it doesn't matter whether that person is the same sex as the winner of the hand …" He turned to Maureen and Barbara. "Your sister is a little kinky isn't she?" 

"I'll vote for that!" Maureen said without hesitation. "I hope that I win the next hand and I hope that you lose it, Jason." 

Her sisters looked at her funny. 

"Well, I want to see if his penis is a big as you say it is Peggy and I know you want to see it too cause you already touched it." 

"We're in!" Jason and Chris piped up. 

"Well … I suppose I am too," said Scott, trying to sound a bit hesitant and shy. "What about you Barbara? Are you okay with it? 

"Suits me." Barbara replied. "Who's got the deal?" 

Scott smiled feeling smug and self-satisfied. He'd worked the situation like he'd wanted to. The game was afoot and the real fun was just about to begin. 

"Look at this ladies." Chris, who had the deal, announced. "A few of these cards are bent and torn. If we keep on using them some one might gain an unfair advantage. Let me show you what I mean." Chris pointed to two cards that were face down. "This card is the five of hearts and this one here is the King of Spades." Then he turned the cards over to prove his point. "I think we should change decks to be fair to everyone, but I'll leave the final decision to the three of you." 

The women nodded their agreement in unison. 

Over the next fifteen or twenty minutes most of the hands started to fall the boy's way and before long, all of the women were finding more and more and more of their clothes in the growing pile in the middle of the floor. Jason took off Maureen's blouse and skirt; Chris removed her panty hose she was soon down to only her bra and panties. Still everyone appeared to be having a good time. Chris, it seems was a 'would be' stand-up comic. He was entertaining everyone with his 'shtick'. 

Maureen, who was sitting on her knees next to Jason, Peggy won the next hand and Maureen lost it. Maureen broke out into uncontrollable peals of laughter. "What's it going to be boys?" Peggy asked.

"Show us her tits." They responded. Peggy unsnapped her sister's bra and pulled it away from her massive mammaries. She tweaked Maureen's nipple as she did so and threw the bra into the clothes pile. Chris who always carried a camera with him snapped off a couple of shots.

The sudden flash startled Maureen. She was still laughing at Chris's Chris Rock like jokes and at the reflection of herself sitting in the middle of the room in front of a mixed sex audience bare titted on the mirrored wall. She was laughing so hard that she doubled over. Suddenly she found her face planted in Jason's crotch. Her eyes were riveted on the fly opening of his boxers. She noticed a large bulge and a hint of something fleshy protruding through it. Maureen was so aroused that she could not contain herself any longer. Her own curiosity about the size of this young man's cock was overwhelming her. Peggy's description of its length and girth made her skeptical, but it also made her even more curious about what he had hanging between his thighs. Like their Dad, Maureen's sons were well hung, but their penises were nowhere near the size that Peggy had described Jason's. She had to see it for herself. Without thinking she reached for his underwear, inserted her fingers into the fly and poked around inside. Whatever was there was very large and rock hard. Impulsively, she pulled his shorts down around his knees. She found herself face to face with his enormous one-eyed monster. Her eyes widened in astonishment. Jason's foot long piece of meat stood at attention perpendicular to his body looking like the magnificent mainmast of a sailboat.

Maureen gulped; she was suddenly overcome with the urge to suck what was confronting her. For years she had repressed those incestuous fantasies about sucking her own sons' cocks. Though she had numerous opportunities to do so as her three sons grew into young manhood, in the end she'd always managed to resist those temptations. Now in her drugged state of consciousness with all of her inhibitions gone, and her defenses crumbled, the temptation was just too great. Jason's resemblance to her youngest son, twenty-two year old Shawn was uncanny and that clinched it for Maureen. With faulty reasoning she thought of him as a surrogate to her son. This was her opportunity to act out her fantasy at last. Her lust was growing stronger by the second and her craving to taste his forbidden fruit was suddenly more than she could bear. 

She brought her face closer to his marvelous tool. The musky aroma of his manliness wafted into her nostrils. She parted her lips and touched them to the meaty head. It tasted slightly metallic on her tongue. Emboldened and filled with lust, she drew his cock into her mouth while her hands found his muscular ass cheeks. She dug her fingernails into his gluteus muscles and pulled him deeper inside her mouth. Though Jason's cock was bigger than any she'd ever seen or even imagined existed, swallowing his rod was easier than she thought. Maureen was a crazed mad woman who wanted to devour Jason's cock. "Cock sucking" she thought to herself, "is like riding a bike. Once you learn how to do it, you never forget even if you're out of practice." A sudden flash of light and whirring sound temporarily disrupted the mood and blinded Maureen who looked up only to be blinded again by a second flash. Chris had picked up the camera again and was shooting pictures of the older woman taking his friend's huge cock into her mouth and devouring it.

In their drunken and stoned condition none of the women had noticed the boys bringing anything into the villa -- much less a camera, not that it would have mattered anyway, by this time they were all too far gone to even care. Maureen munched and slobbered, and made sucking noises and she even tried talking with her mouth full of cock. Of course her words were muffled and garbled, but they were pleasurable noises that eloquently told him of the enjoyment she was getting from sucking him off. "MWWWWWOFFF, UMMMF, SOOOOFF NYFFFFF…TASEFEEEEHHH YUMMMMMM!!" She continued sucking Jason's enormous cock at a frenzied pace, while the others kept on playing cards. They hardly noticed except for the occasional distraction from the loud sucking noises and the occasional flashes from Chris' photography. She kept up her wild and frenetic cock sucking for a good twenty minutes. The friction from the vigorous rubbing of his cock against her mouth was chaffing her lips. Her cheeks and jaws ached too, but she wouldn't stop. Maureen was a woman on a mission and now that she had nearly accomplished it, she wasn't about to give up. She was breathing hard and released his cock from her mouth long enough to verbally egg him on "C'mon Jason, pant … I want you to cum in my mouth. I want to puff … taste your sweet lovely spunk. Give it to me!"

Jason was straining as hard as he could to keep himself from cumming. He was moaning with delight. Whatever Maureen lacked in technique, she more than made up for in enthusiasm. This blowjob was better than most. It was even better than the one's he'd received from whores who made their living sucking cocks. Finally, he could take no more. His body stiffened and he emitted a loud grunt.

Jason's body contracted violently…again and again and again. After the first spasm, Maureen's mouth was immediately flooded with cum. The spurts were continuous and his spasms lasted several minutes before abating. Her lips sensed the contraction of the muscles at the base of his cock that forced the creamy jizz upward and caused it to jet out into her willing mouth. As her mouth filled up and overflowed, his cum started seeping out of the corner of her mouth forming a rivulet that branched at the cleft of her double chin and trickled down her fleshy neck. His body went limp and he groaned. She released his cock, and turned to face her sisters. Then, Maureen broke out in a shit-eating grin. Her facial expression was like a guilty child who had been discovered doing something naughty. She beamed broadly then opened her mouth to show her sisters the creamy liquid that was deposited inside. Then she savored the flavor of his cum, before swallowing every remaining drop of it. Chris quickly clicked the shutter button and fired off several more frames of film.




Gaming 1



In the meantime back at the card table, Peggy and Barbara had continued losing the hands dealt to them. They were now stripped down to just their bras and panties. Scott lost the next hand and Barbara promptly removed his last piece of clothing -- his boxer shorts. Peggy turned her head to admire the muscular body of the young man sitting on her right and as she scanned downward, she feasted her eyes on his large cock. Though not nearly as large as Jason's monster, it was still very large and it was enormous compared to her husband Edward's itsy bitsy teeny weenie. Besides having an undersized dick, Edward had another problem; he was plagued by a life long case of premature ejaculation. Whenever he and Peggy had sex, which was infrequently, he would come almost immediately after entering her. His little prick quickly wilted and shriveled up to the size of a peanut. Sometimes, when Peggy was angry with her husband she would refer to it as his 'peanut' and even humiliate him in front of her sisters and brothers. 

Peggy hadn't been properly fucked in all the years of their marriage. As a result she'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to have an orgasm with a man's hard cock crammed inside of her pussy. Suddenly she could take it no longer. She wanted to feel and play with Scott's fleshy banana. She threw down her cards and Barbara quickly followed suit. They abandoned the poker game and tore off the rest of their clothing -- bras and panties seemed to be flying everywhere.

Peggy moved in even closer to Scott. With one hand she began a slow and smooth stroking of his gorgeous rod, and with the other she fingered her own needy pussy. It didn't very long before Peggy's cunt was drenched with her own sex juices and Scott's cock stood at attention like an iron flagpole. She was ready for him now, and she hoped he would be good or rather that he would be 'bad'. In fact she wanted him to be 'very bad'. She crooked her index finger seductively and gestured what she wanted. Scott needed no further encouragement. He plunged his thick pickle into the depths of her wet waiting hole until it was buried up to the hilt inside her. Chris feeling randy himself had tossed the camera to Jason, who continued taking pictures as fast as the camera's process would allow. 

Scott was an amazingly strong young man. Raised on a farm, he had grown up carrying heavy loads while helping his dad operate the farm. He also knew that the space on the floor where his rod impaled Peggy's pussy was small and cramped; he needed enough room to do his work well and to expose more of her naked body to the all-seeing camera. With her body skewered on his cock he stood up and picked her up off of the floor; he cradled his hands under her ass cheeks. Peggy was still light-headed from all of the alcohol she'd consumed. Afraid of falling or being dropped, she reached out and locked her arms around his neck. She wrapped her long muscular dancer's legs around his hips, crossing them at the ankles and locking them in place. Her soft full breasts pressed against his well-developed muscular chest. He carried her from the coffee table into the dining room where he deposited her buttocks at the edge of the expensive Japanese ebony-wood dining room table. The meaty head of his cock tickled her cervix during the entire journey. 

Scott eased her back down flat and standing over her at the edge of the table began slowly but steadily, pounding it inside her, pinioning her back against its surface. She pleaded with him; the pitch of her voice seemed to raise an octave in response to every successive thrust. "Ohhh, yes Scott, please, do me. Do it harder. Fuck me. FUCK ME!!! FUCKME!!! Faster..harder.. Yes, Fuck me Please"

Never having been fucked before like Scott was fucking her now, Peggy wanted the experience to be even better. That is, if it was possible for it to be any better. Her nearly fifty-year-old body was still limber and supple from being subjected to her daily exercise regimen. She wanted to open up more of her yielding cunt to Scott's probing tool. Peggy wanted to feel his hardness exploring every centimeter of her sensitive insides. She arched her back and like the well-trained dancer she once had been, extended her legs until her ankles rested on top of his collarbones forming their own 'V' for victory. Scott locked his forearms around her calves anchoring them in place. He responded by fucking her even more vigorously. He grunted and groaned and soon pools of sweat were oozing from every pore in his toned body.

Peggy screamed. Her breaths were becoming more frequent and labored. She was gasping and her heart was pounding so hard that she thought it might burst. Her passionate words were laced with a string of obscenities telling him what she wanted him to do to her. "Oh yes, Scott Yes fuckme…fuckme…fuckmeeee. Make me cum. Tickle my needy pussy with your beautiful cock! YES, YESSS, YEESSSSSYESSSS, oh God, OMIGAWD YES, that feels soooo wonderful. You have no fucking idea how fucking wonderful it feels to finally be fucked by a fucking cock that stays fucking hard instead of fucking wilting all of the fucking time. Oh fuck, yesss. Soooo fucking good. Pleasssee, please, fuck me harder, yes that's it….oooohh fuuuuucckk." Not only was she being photographed, every word was being tape recorded too!!! 

She was pinned against the table but it made no difference. She was so crazed she only wanted more of him. The continuous pounding and Scott's skillful touching of her breasts and belly just made the feeling even more wonderful. Peggy was totally consumed with her passion and seemed unaware that Jason was walking around with the camera, shooting picture after picture of her being fucked. Her moist flesh was prickly with goose bumps and she was shivering. Before long, she begged Scott to take her over the top. Their bodies were wet from nearly half-an-hour of constant pumping and humping. "Please Scott, please make me cum. And I want you to cum in me. Fill up my pussy with your cum!! Fuck meee…pant pant, gasp…. YESSSS, TAKE ME AWAY ... oooooh, aaaaaaah, YEEEESSSSS, YEEESSSSSSSSS, YESSSSSSSS… I'm almost there, cum with me … cummm inside of me please…pant." With labored breath and their hearts pounding, they drove their last pangs of passion into a feverish coda of sexual energy. Scott pumped frenetically. Peggy writhed wildly trying to wring the last ounce of ecstasy out of this improbable coupling. They both pushed and prodded and pounded until they could endure no more. Sexual electricity sizzled through their bodies, like a bolt of lightning. The ceiling began spinning above Peggy's head, she felt weak and thought she might pass out. 

Feeling the initial wave of her orgasm overcoming her, and realizing how much noise she was making, Peggy tried to muffle her screams as Scott continued to slam against her pelvis. When he thought she could take no more he withdrew. He pulled her up by the hips and rolled her over into a prone position. Her stomach pressed against the expensive polished wood. Scott got behind her while she assumed a position down on all fours. He entered her again, taking her 'doggie style' She felt him go deeper then any man had been before, and she climaxed instantly. Her body was completely out of control as he rammed her relentlessly, his balls slamming against the entrance of the filled chasm. She felt a last hard stroke as he buried himself deep inside her and let loose. She felt her insides being flooded as his hot wad spewed deep inside her. She could take no more and collapsed onto the table, her body tingling from the experience. 

Scott hadn't bothered to put on a condom, which he didn't realize until the first gushes of his jism began pouring into Peggy's expectant chasm. "YEEESSSS, Scott…I'm CUMMMMING TOOOO, AAAAAHHHHH, YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS that's right, that's right honey CUM With ME. …CUMMMM INSIDE OF MEEEEE baby. Please, fill me up with your hot juicy cum, pleeze, Puh-leees…" Scott wasn't concerned about impregnating Peggy, but he had other reasons for not wanting to shoot his entire load while inside Peggy's pussy. He abruptly jerked his cock out of her wildly contracting cunt. He was so excited, that his cock wriggled uncontrollably, like a fire hose being held with a single finger. His cock twisted and turned, spewing molten bullets of cum indiscriminately onto Peggy's waiting body. She watched intently as it showered on her, smiling and laughing the entire time. "CUUUMMMM, all OHH ver …. MEEEE…OH MYYESSSS…. OHH itsssooo warm, wet and yummy. Oooohhhh and it feels soooo won-derrr-fullll!" 

Some of Scott's cum landed on Peggy's belly and pubic hair, some on her neck, some of it even hit her in the eye, briefly blinding her. Still she didn't seem to mind. As the spasms lessened in power, Scott squeezed the last few drippings from the head of his cock onto her breasts and her neck. Then he brushed his deflating cock across her lips, painting the rest of the slimy residue onto their fleshy surfaces. Peggy licked her lips hungrily, drinking up all of it. She wanted to savor every bit of his salty cock milk. All the while, the camera never stopped taking pictures.

While Scott was fucking Peggy, the drug finally took full hold of Barbara. She was becoming highly aroused from watching her oldest sister's wild fuck. The woman her sisters called Babs opened her handbag and took out a small battery operated vibrator that, unbeknownst them, she always carried with her. It was well used and had served her well in her turbulent and increasingly sexless marriage. She moved her hand and the cylindrical vibrator deftly down to her crotch and began slowly massaging her clit. The neatly trimmed cottony down patch that covered her crotch felt silky on her fingertips as she lightly stroked herself. She bit her lip. Her sensitive flesh quivered, her sex juices began boiling up and spilling out of her honey pot forming tiny beads of sweet dew on her labia. Barbara's responsive skin blushed and her heart fluttered as she increased the pressure between her thighs. The fleshy folds that guarded the entrance to her womanhood turned purplish red. She lay down on the carpet with her knees raised and slightly parted and continued her self-stimulation. "Mmmmmm, ooooh." she moaned

Barbara opened her thighs even wider to give her better access to her damp slit. Her fingers parted the fleshy furrow between her lower lips. The vibrator burrowed its way into her moist slit and nestled there. Barbara squeezed her pelvic muscles tight to hold it in place and moved her hands up to her breasts, kneading those firm fleshy melons and squeezing her erect nipples. She looked over at Chris. She liked his looks, his build and she was especially attracted to his smooth cocoa colored skin. 

Chris was watching her and smiling. He was drawn to older women anyway and this tall beautiful white woman with alabaster skin, big breasts and flaming red hair was especially appealing. Chris was not about to be left out of the action. He'd more than done his job, taking photographs of Jason and Maureen and Peggy and Scott. He passed Jason the camera. Now Jason and Scott could take pictures of Barbara while Chris joined in the sexual fun and games. Chris moved in close and knelt between Barbara's feet. He bent down and spread her knees with his elbows. Then he lowered his head toward her neatly trimmed patch. 

Barbara looked up at him smiling. "Come on Chris honey, my pussy is on fire and it's all yours, if you want it!" She teased, "You DO want to eat me don't you?"" As Chris's tongue searched for her clit, his nostrils breathed in the full richness of her womanly scents. She smelled wild, sweet and musky all at the same time.

"I think I know how to make that fire burn even hotter," he teased back, as his long tongue dove toward her downy copper colored muff. He began to kiss the inside of her thighs. He tormented her by running the tip of his tongue across the tender seam of flesh joining her legs to her torso and circled around her wet hole, but never entered it. Chris was obviously an expert when it came to female anatomy, because he made Barbara's body jump and tingle with every touch.

Chris tantalized her with his skillful tongue and licked enthusiastically away at the folds of Barbara's cunt. She purred and cooed in pleasure and encouraged him to explore her freely with his mouth. "Ooh ahh, yes, just like that… do it there… right there. Yes, YES that's sooo nice!!" She opened her thighs wider, encouraging him to penetrate her with his tongue. As his lips and roving tongue discovered more and more of her sensitive spots she moaned and arched her body. "UMMMM, I like the way you lick my pussy, Chris, OOOOHHHH GOD ITS SO GOOD" His tongue seemed to resonate in perfect harmony with the vibrator that was buried in her wet snatch.

Though Chris was enjoying himself feasting on Barbara's body and feeling her damp pussy squirming beneath his face, he wanted to experience the pleasure of having her pouty lips and hot mouth wrapped around his cock too. He angled his body around, positioning it so that his throbbing rod dangled temptingly above her face. "You want to suck this big black cock, don't you, Barbara?" He pushed the angry head against her lips. Just seeing his black iron rod up close excited Barbara. She responded immediately parting her full lips and moving her mouth to the tip of his cock, which was already oozing with precum. She blew hot breaths on it, then drew back the foreskin with her fingers and flickered her tongue across his huge sensitive cockhead. She reached out and delicately pumped it, then greedily sucked it into her mouth. While Chris continued to distract her with his ardent licking, Barbara focused all of her energy on inhaling more and more of his cock into her lovely mouth. 

Chris' tongue soon found Barbara's hooded clit. He took the love button between his teeth and nibbled at it playfully. Her cunt was pulsating. Her hips bucked wildly. Barbara gasped and squealed but the noises were muffled by the fullness of the cock that now was completely stuffing her mouth. She chewed on it relentlessly, licking and teasing him skillfully with her tongue. Barbara tightened her thighs around his head with a vise like grip. Chris felt himself being suffocated by Barbara's undulating pussy being pressed into his face. The two unlikely lovers were locked in the perfectly symmetrical sixty-nine position, rolling back and forth on the carpet like a weighted ball. First Barbara was on top, straddling his face, and then Chris rolled over and forced his rod down her throat. They looked like two wrestlers locked up face-to-crotch, each one vying for the superior position 

Chris pressed the insides of his knees against the side of Barbara's head. He used the leverage he gained to force her mouth to pump up and down and slide over his cock at a cadence that he controlled. First Barbara's head would be pushed forward and then jerked back, again and again. Her mouth was being controlled like a marionette on a string. 

Barbara felt her orgasm nearing. Her entire body tingled with sexual energy that was about to be fully unleashed. Chris was building toward his climax too. Barbara's started slowly with a series of little quivers in her pussy that radiated outward like a shockwave. The magnitude of the tremors continued to intensify until Barbara's entire body twitched and jerked uncontrollably. The liquid sexual magma deep inside the recesses of her womb was about to bubble over in a steamy geyser. Her pussy contracted violently and she screamed out as the first ecstatic wave of her orgasm overwhelmed her body. Her juices poured out and flooded Chris' face. "Come in my mouth, Chris!" She screamed. "I want to make you come. Do it on my tongue...please...let me taste it", she pleaded with him.

Just as her orgasm started to break, Barbara scraped the ridges of her teeth playfully along the sensitive underside of the bulbous cock head. She probed the unprotected flesh inside of his piss hole with the pointed tip of her tongue. These actions were enough to pull Chris over the edge too. His big black pole throbbed violently. The first onslaught of his musky tasting cum filled her mouth, the subsequent ones of equal volume forced her to swallow some, which she did voraciously. Even so, much of the elixir overflowed and ran down her chin and neck.

Neither Chris nor Barbara seemed completely satisfied with having just one orgasm, even a powerful orgasm like the one they'd both just experienced. After resting for a few short minutes the resumed their festive sex banquet, orally exploring each other's bodies. 

As Jason watched his friends' cavorting with the two older women, he could feel his own cock beginning to stir and stiffen again. Maureen who was resting her head comfortably in the crook of his armpit noticed his cock revive too. She extended her fingers to his semi-flaccid rod and began gently teasing the head with her fingertips. She watched in astonishment as it became rigid and blossomed to its full foot long length once more. Then she enveloped the shaft in the palm of her hand and began furiously stroking up and down its length with her fingers. She licked her lips and moved her free hand smartly down to the familiar 'vee' in her crotch and began fingering herself. Her large tits heaved as the fingering quickened. She wanted to take Jason's magnificent tool into the wet abyss located between her chubby thighs, she wanted to feel the full-length of his cock enter and fill her. 

"Fuck me Jason, I want to feel you inside me! Please fuck me!"

Jason had a slightly different idea. He looked down at Maureen's corpulent body, his eyes wandered past her enormous breasts and her flabby protuberant belly. He could see that her prominent pussy lips were rapidly becoming wet, swollen and darkening. He whispered in her ear. "Doggie-style! I want to give it to you doggie-style!"

Maureen nodded. She also smirked and licked her lips. " Arrrf…You're right Jason, I am your bitch, and I'm in heat. Let me have that big juicy bone…I want all of it….woof, woof!!" 

Jason helped Maureen get down onto her knees. Then the obese lady thrust out one arm and then the other so that she was down on all fours. He went around in back of her and got ready to enter her. When he had positioned himself so that he was lined up for his attack, he reached his hand through the space between her legs and tugged at her pronounced clit. Maureen gasped and squealed. Her pussy was already sopping wet anticipating his enormous tool entering it. 

Jason lined up on the target. He moistened the head of his huge weapon with the juices oozing from her pussy. Then he used his fingers to guide his massive tool past the fleshy gates of Maureen's cunt, stretching them as the thick member pushed deeper into that narrow love canal. "OOOMMMPH, UUUUHHHHH, AHHHH" she grunted and moaned as its walls pushed out to accommodate him. She felt like she was being split in two, his huge cock sliding further into her stretching her vagina, touching erogenous places she wasn't previously aware of. His big hands grabbed firmly on to her sloppy buttocks cheeks for greater leverage. The air being forced out of her and replaced by his stiff meat, made a series of loud squishy noises. Then Jason began the strong and constant pushing and pulling of his meat into her channel, thrusting and withdrawing at an increasing pace. Whenever he pulled it back, his long rod glistened with a fresh coating of her love juices. The interior walls of her cunt were being stretched more than they had ever been stretched. His cock was touching her pussy walls, nudging and moving the mouth of her cervix. She, in turn, was gripping his cock with this tightness of her moist, tissue-covered cunt muscles 




Gaming 1



Maureen rocked back and forth synchronously with Jason's movements guiding them both. As difficult as it was to believe before too long she was able to accept its entire length without difficulty. As the rocking picked up it's pace, Maureen's flabby hips and drooping belly started jiggling like a plate of Jell-o in an earthquake. Jason's rod probed deeper and deeper into her hole, until she could feel all of its magnificence filling her insides. His large ball-sack banged relentlessly against her ass cheeks making loud slapping noises as it bounced around wildly.

Guided by Jason's intense and forceful humping, Maureen's rocking picked up its pace too. The vigorous steady motion of his thrusts pushed her head down toward the carpet. She rested on her elbows. Her large gourd-like breasts drooped down nearly to the floor and flapped around like two pillowcases in a brisk breeze. Her engorged nipples brushed lightly against the rug's nappy fabric. 'Oh yesss, YES Jason, what a beautiful cock you have…GIVE ITOMEEEE….YESS… MORE,MORE OHHH… that feels so good inside my pussy. YEEESSSSS.YEEESSS.MORE….OW, ALL OF IT …AHHHH GOOOD… OOOOHHH, YESSSS". Her face and body turned a bright pink. Her skin felt like a warm damp towel. Soon Maureen was moaning and squealing unintelligible gibberish as her first orgasm overtook her.

"So you like it! You're a real cock slut aren't you Maureen … well how do you like this?" Jason was only beginning. Scott kept on snapping more photos as he watched his friend fuck the short little fat woman. She certainly seemed to be enjoying herself too. He snickered and decided that he wanted a piece of this action too. He handed the camera to Peggy and told her to keep taking pictures. Then he knelt directly in front of Maureen, and grabbed one of her massive tits in each of his hands. To Scott milking a cow was second nature. He squeezed and released, squeezed and released Maureen's incredibly sensitive nipples. She looked up at him and beamed a large smile. Then licked her lips obscenely. His large semi-rigid rod dangled temptingly in front of her face. "I want your cock too." She said in a winded but throaty voice.

Scott knew exactly what he needed to do to satisfy the horny lady. He pushed his body closer to her face. Maureen's lips parted, her mouth was watering in anticipation. "Here it is lady, you said that you wanted it, didn't you? Now suck it … suck my cock, slut!" Scott eased his cock into her waiting mouth and Maureen sucked and gulped it in. Her cheeks ballooned as his cock inflated inside her tight mouth. Now Maureen's body was rocking and rolling forward and backward with both her pussy and mouth filled with the large hard cocks.

In her altered state of consciousness, Peggy had become very possessive of Scott. Her body was still tingling in the afterglow of their superlative fuck. Peggy wasn't happy about having to share Scott's cock with anyone, even with her own sister. She moved over to where the threesome was going on and lay down on her back directly underneath Scott's kneeling body. Raising her head, she began fingering her own pussy and sucking on his balls. Maureen continued sucking his cock. 

Chris and Barbara looked up observing the building daisy chain. Barbara was so aroused by the sight that she quickly moved and knelt directly above Peggy's breasts. Without hesitating for a second, she began caressing them and squeezing Peggy's nipples. Seeing a favorable reaction from her sister, she bent forward, placed her mouth on Peggy's tit and supplemented the tweaking with a vigorous sucking. The suction was so strong that Peggy shuddered violently. Barbara's face moved slowly down the bias of her sister's body, her tongue stopped at the belly button lingered playfully for a few seconds before moving down and finding Peggy's honey pot. Peggy lurched, gasped and moaned as Barbara's tongue fluttered teasingly on her pussy. 

Chris fixed the camera in a stable position on a pivot and turned on the timed shutter release so that the camera would continue to shoot pictures automatically without him. Then he quickly moved to where the action was so that he could join in too. Repositioning himself behind Barbara, he straddled over her cupping one arm around her waist and moving his strong hand quickly into her wet hole. When he saw her encouraging response, he pushed the index finger of his free hand into the crack of her ass. Chris's fingertip circled around the puckered hole, teasing it before he plunged it into her tight rosebud. 

Barbara gasped and then Chris inserted a second finger, the middle one, past her accommodating sphincter and deep into her asshole, massaging and lubing the inside of that tight passage with the two fingers. His cock was already slick with a mixture of Barbara's saliva and his own cum. When he thought she was ready, he pulled his fingers out with a pop and immediately replaced them with his hard rod. He was surprised at how easily it slid in to her puckered rosebud. Barbara shrieked from pain as he drove his hammer slowly into her, he wasn't going to stop until he felt his balls pressing against her open pussy. 

"Oh no, please, please don't, don't do that … " Barbara protested, as his cock plowed further into new territory. To Barbara it felt like a red-hot poker reaming out the walls of her narrow hole stretching the taut channel with each push. Chris ignored her objections and continued assaulting her asshole with his cock. "It's so hot inside me, ouch, OW, OUCH it hurts. Please Chris... don't do that...its burning...ooohhh ummm ahhh!" Her voice was growing softer and her protests becoming less convincing with each push. Chris soon noticed her resistance waning and as he continued pumping slowly into her ass, he felt Barbara gradually opening up and accepting him. Meanwhile she resumed tonguing her sister's wriggling muff with a renewed vigor. Obviously Peggy was enjoying being eaten too. 

"That's it you hot little slut," Chris taunted as he reached under Barbara and pinched her stiff blood filled clit. "You just love this big black cock, beg me to fuck you baby, tell me that you want me to fuck you hard, you're going to be my cock slave, you've always wanted to be fucked by black cock, haven't you Barbara? You want to take my big black cock all the way up your virgin asshole. You know you love it!" 

"Oh yes, YES YES! Please, PLEASE, PLEASE fuck my ass!! I love the feel of your big black cock inside of me." Barbara's body shuddered and she let out a loud gasp, as the spasms resonated throughout her entire body. Chris had never experienced anything quite like this before either and deep inside her bowels his cock began to throb. "Oh yeah," Chris moaned as he felt her sphincter tightening like a noose around his expanding cock. The contraction sent them both into a violent, seemingly endless orgasm. "Yes! Yes, yesss" Barbara screamed. "I can feel you cumming! Give it all to me! Fill my asshole with your hot cum! Don't stop until you've given me every last drop." His balls contracted injecting torrents of his fuck juice deep into the recesses of her bowels. When he was done he collapsed as she milked the last dewdrop of cum out of him.

His two friends continued fucking Maureen. She had already experienced a second and third orgasm. She was being subjected to a tug-of-war between the two enormous cocks. One of them stuffed her mouth and the other filled her cunt. Her muffled squeals egged on the two men to fuck her even more enthusiastically. It had been at least half-an-hour but Jason was still going strong. On the other hand, Maureen's energetic sucking brought Scott to the brink. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold his orgasm back too much longer. He'd also become aware that Peggy was sucking on his balls even as Maureen continued to blow him. The two women seemed to be engaged in a heated competition to see which one could take more of his manhood into her mouth. Just as the first blast of cum shot into Maureen's throat, Scott pulled his cock away from her mouth and pointed it downward. He thought to himself, why not give them both what they seemed to crave? 

Peggy, lying directly beneath him with her mouth wide open, watched as a strong blast of Scott's cum squirted downward in an arcing path toward her face. A second even more copious volley quickly followed. Since Peggy had placed her mouth directly in the path of this torrent, the creamy spurts streamed their way onto her tongue, mouth and nose. Her eyes were wide open and she began laughing as the paroxysms of his orgasm yielded a river of white fluid that cascaded out of his cock flooding her waiting mouth. 

Jason after forty minutes of continuous fucking had finally reached the limits of his endurance. He was sweating profusely and straining every muscle in his body. He'd manage to hold back his ejaculation all this time. As Maureen experienced the first throes of a fourth orgasm, he finally exploded with a grunt. "Take this baby, here's what you've been waiting for. It's your reward for having such a hot pussy, slut!" Then his hot sex juice inundated her pussy, filling every nook and cranny of her well-used cunt. 

And that still wasn't the end of it. The sexual romp continued on until long past midnight. To the sisters it seemed to be a constant blur of mouths, cocks, pussies and assholes whizzing by and interconnecting in an endless variety of permutations and combinations. Finally the women, who had been fucked into exhaustion, collapsed from fatigue and the three young men slipped away into the night. 

GAMING Part 4 – Double Dealing from a Stacked Deck 

The hot Las Vegas sun was well past the peak of its daily orbit when the three women finally awoke from a deep but pleasant sleep. The date rape drug in their drinks had erased all memories of the previous night's wild orgy. Still as they looked around and consciousness overtook them there were disturbing signs everywhere. The ladies woke up naked, yet from their childhood until the present none of them ever went to bed without first putting on her pajamas or a nightgown. As they looked around villa the fastidious ladies found the place was a mess. Their shoes, clothes and underwear were strewn indiscriminately in a large untidy pile the middle of the living room floor. Two open quart bottles of Chivas Regal sat atop the bar; one of them was empty and the other less than a third full. Six unwashed and nearly empty highball glasses next to them were covered with lipstick stains and sticky fingerprints. None of the ladies smoked but the ashtray was filled with ashes and cigarette butts. Barbara took a whiff of the contents of the ashtray and announced that it smelled like marijuana to her. An open box filled with packets of unused condoms was prominently displayed on the coffee table. The evidence of some kind of wild party was everywhere, yet none of the sisters could remember a thing about it. No one beside the three women was in the house now, so who else had been there in the house with them the previous night and where were they now? 

When they looked around further, they found damp towels scattered on the bathroom floor. Some of the towels were stained with congealing globs of a viscous musky smelling substance that had the consistency of clotted crème. Maureen was the one who correctly guessed that it was jism. There were also loose strands of dark pubic hairs caught up in the nappy fabric of the terry cloth. From the color of the hairs it was obvious that they had not come from any of the ladies. 

And that wasn't even the worst of it. Each of the ladies complained that her jaw ached, her breasts hurt and of her vagina being sore. They smelled ripe and gamy. Their breath stank and each of them had a faint musk like aftertaste lingering in her mouth. As they inspected their bodies more carefully, they discovered dried splotches of a milky colored substance indiscriminately spackled on their necks, breasts, and bellies. Their elegantly coifed heads were a mess and there were clots of the same sticky substance tangled in their hairdos and matted in their pubic hair. Barbara complained of feeling a burning pain in her rectum and when she returned from toileting, she said she'd found traces of blood on the toilet tissue and a creamy discharge in the commode bowl. The realization that they had participated in some kind of wild sex orgy was becoming more obvious by the second yet no one remembered anything about it. What had they done? And even more importantly, why had they done it and with whom? The seeds of worry and anxiety filled their consciousness. 

Looking at her reflection in the bright light of the bathroom Peggy could see her flushed skin and glazed-eyes. Her breasts were swollen and blotchy red. Her nipples were as hard as diamonds. When she sat on the toilet, she reached between her legs and felt that her vagina and thighs were soaked. Her fingers 

examined the swollen labia. She felt her clit which and discovered that it was double its usual size. 

Maureen tried to lighten the mood. "I hope that we enjoyed whatever it was that we did?" She wisecracked. Her sisters only sneered. 

After a long uncomfortable silence, Peggy spoke. "I was thinking, we might never find out what happened last night, but if we ever do, it has to remain a secret between us. No one else must ever find out…especially our husbands'." 

They swore each other to secrecy. 

"What time is it anyway?" Barbara asked. 

"Why it's nearly three-thirty in the afternoon." Peggy responded gazing over at the kitchen clock. 

"I'm starved!" Maureen interjected. 

Her sisters nodded in agreement. 

Peggy yawned. "Gosh I'm tired. Why don't the two of you start straightening the place up and I'll fix lunch? I'm feeling a little sick and I wouldn't want to take any chances on becoming really ill with my birthday coming up in a couple of weeks. I think Edward has something special planned, but he hasn't said a word. Besides, it's so late that after we eat, I think I'll just take a shower, climb back into bed and call it a night." 

"That's a good idea sis. Maybe I'll call it a night too!" Maureen echoed. 

Barbara was the only dissenter. "We're in Vegas on vacation. We're supposed to be having fun and I really want to see a show tonight. Barry Manilow is at Bally's and if I remember correctly this is closing night for his show. You know how much I love listening to Barry Manilow. Whenever he sings I'm in heaven. His voice makes my pussy wet and my nipples hard. 

"I can't believe that this is our pure little Babs talking…'pussy wet' and 'nipples hard', eh! Peggy teased. "What would Brian say if he heard you talking like that?" 

"He'd be dumbfounded, but I would never talk like that while Brian is around." Her sisters were amazed, until now they'd never heard a naughty word coming from their youngest sister's mouth – she might not be such an ice-princess prude after all. 

"If you must know Barry makes my pussy wet too!!" Maureen chimed in. "And going to a show is exactly what we need to brighten up the atmosphere around here. I'm game! I'll go with you Babs." 

"Well he USED TO make my nipples hard and my pussy wet too!!" Peggy said in a tone that invited her sisters to ask for further explanation. 

"Whaddaya mean, used to?" Barbara asked with a frown on her face. 

Peggy smirked. Barbara had taken the bait. "Yeah, I'll admit that I had a crush on him too, that is until I found out he's gay." 

"Are you passing on rumors or just making up stories again, Peggy?" Barbara retorted challenging her sisters' statement. 

"Oh no, it's a well known fact that he's gay! And I happen to know it first hand." Peggy boasted. 

Barbara confronted her sister's assertion with a feisty, fiery retort. "Yeah and just how do you know, Ms. 'smarty pants'?" 

"Well, if you must know I met Barry about thirty years ago when we were both living in Manhattan and struggling to get a break performing. We have some mutual show biz friends. Anyway I had crush on him and wanted to date him, but he made it clear that he preferred men. Later on a friend of a friend of a friend of mine who IS gay told me that he often saw Barry at gay parties usually in the company of a 'drag queen' date. So while Barry makes your heart flutter and your nipples taut while you listen to CD's of him singing 'Mandy' or 'Copacabana', he's probably somewhere down on his knees sucking a cock or bent over taking one up the…" 

Barbara cut her sister off. She was snarling. "Thank you Peggy for enlightening me, but I'd appreciate it if from now on you let me indulge in my own fantasies." 

"Tsk! Tsk! Oh my, so you have fantasies too! Mo did you know that our little baby sister, who's never had a dirty thought in her life, has fantasies about Barry Manilow? That's okay sis, we love you anyway." Peggy made a habit of acting like a bitch and being sarcastic with her youngest sister. Barbara wanted to haul off and slug her. 

The tension and anxiety inside the villa seemed to ease a bit after the women finished the delicious meal that Peggy, who was a gourmet cook, had prepared. They showered, dressed and primped and began to look and feel like human beings again. Barbara and Maureen even convinced Peggy to join them at the Barry Manilow show, if they were able to get tickets. Barbara took the responsibility for getting reservations. She sat down and was about to pick up the receiver when the telephone rang. 

The ring startled the sisters. Who could be calling? Only one other person even knew that they were in Vegas and where they were staying --- and she would not be calling. 

Barbara picked up the phone. On the other end was a polite sounding male voice. "Hello! Is there a Maureen Smith there?" 

"Who's calling, please?" 

"My name is Scott, and I found her handbag. It had this telephone number written on a piece of paper inside, so I figured I'd call." 

"You say you found her handbag. Where did you find it?" 

"Well my fraternity brothers and I were at Caesar's Palace last night, and as we were leaving we found this black leather handbag with a gold buckle in the shape of the an interlocking 'MS' lying near the casino entrance. If Ms. Smith is there we'd like to return it to her." 

Barbara covered the mouthpiece and whispered to her sister. "Mo did you lose your handbag? There's a young man on the telephone who says that he found it." 

Maureen looked around and then did a quick search of the house. She returned looking distressed. "I can't find it anywhere. It's not here!" 

"So you found Ms. Smith's handbag. Tell me a little bit more about how you found it. Barbara was suspicious and careful not to reveal too much. 

"Like I said we were at Caesar's Palace and we'd had a good night at the craps table. We were at the table where three lovely ladies went on this fantastic winning streak. We decided to bet with these ladies and we won a nice little stake ourselves." Scott repeated the lie of how he'd found the handbag. He described it in even more detail to demonstrate that he had it in his possession. 

"Oh!" Barbara said, letting her guard down just a little. "Those three women you saw were my sisters and me." She regretted giving out that information as soon as the words were out of her mouth. 

"Then Mrs. Smith IS there. We are so grateful to her that we'd like to deliver a small token of our appreciation and return the handbag to her personally." Scott was an expert flatterer and laid it on thick. "That's the least we can do for all the good luck she brought us. If it weren't for her, we'd be flat broke, but because of her and you two ladies we'll be leaving Vegas with a pretty healthy bankroll." All of it was a line, of course, all that Scott and his companions wanted was an excuse to get back into the house so that they could put their malicious plan into play. 




Gaming, Meet Sex



Gaming is great.

That's what Jess told herself as she walked through the crowded mass of people, all bustle and elbows and noise. The crumpled sheet of paper she had printed with directions to the bar on had been stuffed back into her handbag, and she walked now on guesswork, unwilling to admit defeat and glance down at the map again.

Her heart raced, and she was a mess of nerves - was this this going to go well? Of course it will, she kept repeating to herself. Of course it will. But it was hard to make herself believe it. She might have known these people for years, but she had never met them. She knew the way they sounded, the way they thought, but she had never seen their faces. It was very easy to get close to someone from behind a computer screen, but now she actually had to meet these people for real.

And then there was Mike. Mike, the man with whom she had been almost ritualistically flirting with for nigh-on two years now, the man she had spoken with, teased, helped, and, yes, killed.

What a strange thing to think, she smiled to herself. I'm nervous about meeting the man I have killed!

She could never explain it properly to those who did not play The Game. Those who might watch her sitting at her computer would stare at her with rapt fascination. When she pulled out the headset they almost always laughed, and when she said words like "tank" and "aggro" there was no doubt in their minds - she was an unrepentant geek. Housemates, friends, family; they all shook their heads with wry smiles. "It's that silly game she plays," they would say. "It gets in the way of her life. When will she meet a boyfriend?"

But she didn't need a boyfriend. She was strong, independent, making a name for herself in her career. She had enough money for a comfortable life; the apartment, the car, the pet snake all testified to that. And she had plenty of friends. Why would she need a boyfriend? For companionship? That's what friends are for. For love? She had plenty of love from other sources. For sex? She was an attractive and personable girl; when the mood struck her she would not go without sexual gratification, whether by man or Rabbit.

And then there was The Game. She had a social circle entirely in that digital world, friends she knew well yet barely knew at all. It was those people she was going now to meet. And she was terrified.

She'd dressed up for the occasion, of course, but was still nervous about her appearance. What would they think of her? Had they dressed up, or would she now stand out? Black pumps and tight blue jeans complimented the black top and jacket she wore, and though she tried to convince herself that she looked fine - she had been told she was very good-looking by many people throughout her life - that did not stop the nerves. Especially with Mike there. Will he find me attractive?

She was so lost in her own thoughts that Jess almost walked past the bar where they were supposed to meet. It was only the sudden flapping of its great dragon flag that caused her to take stock of where she was. She paused, a smile touching the corners of her lips as she looked at the front of the establishment. A burnished golden dragon adorned its front, complete with matching flags on either side. It looked more like an old world tavern than it did a modern bar, but of course that was the point - where better to organise a meet-up of friends from The Game?

With a deep, calming breath she stepped inside.

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

Jess glanced around the darkened space, but it did not take her long to find the group of people she was due to meet. The bar itself was only moderately busy, a few groups of three or four people milling about individual tables. So the large gathering of slightly-awkward folk in the far corner stood out as those she was trying to find.

She straightened her pristine jacket for the hundredth time, apprehensively adjusted the ponytail of her long, black hair (a nervous habit she had never grown out of), and walked towards the group.

"Hey guys," she said tentatively, cold fear flooding through her. This is ridiculous! You meet new people all the time and you're not this nervous!

The conversation slowly stopped, the bubbling murmur of excited voices instead switching to a chorus of hellos and welcomes. One smart ass even greeted her in the traditional language of The Game, to amused laughs and rolled-eyes from his peers.

That'll be Kevin, then.

"I'm Jess... I mean, um, Jubilee."

"No, you mean Jess," laughed a middle-aged woman, the corners of her eyes creased slightly with the years but her face a perfect picture of friendliness. "It's real names only here, Jess. Save Jubilee for when a dragon's eating your legs!" She laughed at that, and Jess joined her. Clearly, this was Margaret, guild leader, main tank and all round awesome woman.

"Yes, Dear Leader," Jess teased.

Margaret laughed again, the hearty chuckle seeming to fill the table. She reached for her beer. "Now that's a title I could get used to."

Jess smiled as she surveyed the rest of the group. After their friendly hellos they had returned to their former conversations, although she was sure she would be quite welcome to sit with any of them. A dozen friendly faces, running the gamut of society; they were all here, all mixing. A testament to the The Game's ability to equalise, to take away any status and put you in your place on merit.

It was then, as her eyes scanned across the assembled gamers, that she saw him. Mike. His brown eyes stared back at her with a welcoming warmth, and her heart skipped a beat as she felt herself sinking into them.

Oh my God! her mind gasped. He's gorgeous!

And indeed he was. Tearing her gaze away from those deep chocolate pools, she tried to subtly take in the rest of him, though that was not easy given that he was still looking at her. But he was her dream: short black hair, but just long enough to be called "wavy", a defined jaw that wasn't too large and cheekbones that just screamed masculinity. A strong nose sat above a well-defined, slightly curved mouth, his chin adorned with incredibly sexy designer stubble, and Jess almost shivered with nerves at the sight of him.

Suddenly, he looked away, and spots of red bloomed on his cheeks. So it's not just me feeling embarrassed, then. Awkwardly, she wondered if he had been judging her in the same fashion, and whether he had drawn the same conclusion: perfection.

"Don't be silly, Jess," she muttered, turning back to those closest to her. "He could have any girl he wanted. Why would he want you?"

"Did you say something?" asked a sweet voice next to her, and she smiled to recognise it as one of her closest friends from The Game. Taking the opportunity to forget about the embarrassment of a moment before, she turned to the new voice with a giggle. Soon, the conversation flowed easily, and her nerves about Mike were - almost - pushed from her mind.

An hour or so later Margaret announced to the assembled group that she had booked a table at a local restaurant, and after fending off a few good-natured jibes at her still being the leader, the group stood to leave. Jess studiously avoided glancing in Mike's direction - something she had been trying to do all evening, though with limited success - and tugged on her jacket once more. Nervously checking that her ponytail was still intact, she turned to talk to the person beside her when her breath caught in her throat.

Mike had come up to speak with Margaret, marooned at the other end of the table as he had been, and Jess was struck by his height. He's so tall! her mind squealed again. Wonderfully, gloriously tall! She shook her head free of the thought; it would not do to go getting a crush on this man, especially not when he likely did not return the feeling.

But as they walked out of the bar she could not help but stare. He was ahead of her, and thus totally unaware of her gaze, and she drank in every inch of him. He must have been at least six foot, but probably a good few inches taller than that. She stood at five foot seven, and though she was comfortable at that height she had always had a thing for taller men. And that tall...

"You should talk to him," said a pleasant voice beside her. Margaret smiled at Jess, and nodded her head towards Mike. "I've been on this Earth long enough to see tension between two people, and I've had to sit there and listen to the two of you flirting when we're supposed to be killing demons for long enough. Talk to him."

"About what? I wouldn't know what to say."

Margaret laughed her booming laugh. "Conversation seems to come easily enough when we're playing. You'll be fine, Jess." Jess opened her mouth to respond, but Margaret had already begun to shout. "Mike! Could you come here a moment?"

 Jess' heart felt like it had fallen out of her stomach and ice ran through her veins as Mike turned to regard them. He was settling his leather jacket on his shoulders, the dark blue t-shirt underneath almost hidden, and Jess could not help but run her eyes from his black shoes to his head, taking in everything from his pale blue jeans to his tousled-yet-immaculate black hair. He smiled at the two of them, waiting for them to reach him, then turned that smile first to Margaret, then to Jess. She could have sworn it was a slightly shaky smile, and he had the look about him of a startled rabbit.

"Mike, this is Jess. Jess; Mike. You two know each other well enough, but I'd swear to the Old Gods that you've been ignoring each other all night!" With that, Margaret bounded off to the nearest group of gamers, immediately engaging them in animated conversation.

Jess glanced at Mike, and he glanced away, before slowly dragging his head back round. They walked in a huge group, yet she felt totally alone with him. With the man she had teased for years, and was now standing beside her in the flesh. He was everything she could have hoped for.

"H... hey," he stammered at last, and relief flooded through her. He was as nervous as she was.

"Hi," she said back, sheepishly. "You know, I'm not normally this quiet."

A grin broke out on his beautiful face. "I know, Jess. I'm normally the butt of your jokes!"

She laughed at that, and suddenly the ice was broken. They knew who they were again, the nervousness gone, and the conversation flowed easily. Joke and counter-joke, discussion that touched on all the things she cared about - she knew this man, knew that she got on with him.

Before she was aware of herself they had reached the restaurant, and the waiter was showing them to their tables. It appeared, Margaret announced, that they would have to sit at three tables, so they should group up now or be stuck with people they don't like. The last bit was said with a twinkle in her eye, and everybody laughed.

The group moved, and Jess looked around. She didn't know where to sit, or who to sit with, and soon she was standing on her own as the others settled into seats at three tables all in a row. Embarrassment growing, she dived for the nearest table, and the burning in her cheeks grew hotter as she realised she had plunged down next to Mike. My God, he's going to think I'm a stalker!

But he merely smiled, and returned to the conversation he was having with the other people sitting around their table. She relaxed, and when he dragged her into the topic she freely joined in. Soon she was in full flow, a smile on her face, and any thoughts of embarrassment had long been swept away.

The server came round to take their orders, and it was with a start that Jess realised she and Mike were ordering the exact same thing. A nervous grin spread across his face, before he laughed.

"It shouldn't surprise me," he smiled. "I know you like steak - you've mentioned it enough times."

"Yeh, but I thought you liked lamb!"

He looked taken aback, and Jess bit her lower lip. Had she said the wrong thing?

"I... er, wow. You really do pay attention to what I'm saying." He laughed nervously, then stared at the table a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I'm flattered."

Now it was her turn to look away, a million butterflies seeming to take flight in her stomach. It was easy enough to be flirtatious through the medium of the internet, but with him sitting right beside her - and looking so gorgeous - it was suddenly a lot harder.

She breathed a silent sigh of relief as the table chatter started up again, and Mike's brown eyes were drawn from hers. He ran one finger across his well-trimmed goatee and glanced back at her, before turning to the speaker and joining in. Silently admonishing herself, Jess joined in the conversation once more.

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

The meal was lovely, and she and the others on the table had conversed easily throughout. Tonight was certainly turning out to be anything but a disaster, though she and Mike still acted awkwardly to one another. She couldn't help but feel some regret that she didn't simply come out with it and tell him that he was gorgeous, and that she wanted him, but she could not. The potential for humiliation was too great, and she pushed that thought away.

But as the night wore on, her own desires grew. Being in such close proximity to such a handsome man - a man with whom she shared a wonderful connection - watching his mannerisms, listening to him speak... it all conspired to make her crave him. She was winding herself into a tangled ball of tension, and she needed the release.

"I don't know, I've always found people very judgemental of those that play," someone was saying. "It's as if they think we're all fat nerds who never see the sun. You ever had that, Jess?"

She looked up, a little startled, totally lost in her own arousal. "Sorry?" Mike was looking at her as if expecting an answer, and she quickly ran her mind back through the last few sentences. "Er, I mean, a little, I suppose."

He laughed. "Well, I guess people are more forgiving of a girl who plays!"

"I don't know, I've had my fair share of comments," she replied with a shrug. "But there is a stereotype, that we're all fat ugly nerds."

"Oh?" Mike said, his left eyebrow rising. "I wasn't aware of that."

Jess' heart skipped a beat. Shit! She looked around hurriedly, trying to find an escape. "Er... well... no... obviously it's... er... not true..." she stammered, thinking of a way out. Mike still regarded her coolly. Her mind raced. "I mean, you're anything but ugly... I mean you're... ah..."

She looked away her cheeks burning bright red, sheer disbelief in her mind. Why did I just say that? He'll think I'm a freak!

They were all looking at her now, amused smiles touching some of their lips. She couldn't face it; the embarrassment of what she had just said coupled with the hours of torturous arousal. She had to go. She had to.

She grabbed her handbag, yanking out some cash and slamming it on the table. Her companions looked shocked, but she ignored their stares as she stood and said goodnight. It was lovely to meet them all, and she'd see them in The Game. She apologised about having to go.

But her heart sank when she looked at Mike. He wore an expression of utter disappointment, and though he was trying to hide it she could see straight through him. Primarily, she suspected, because she felt the same way, but she had humiliated herself in front everyone - in front of him - and she couldn't stay. She simply couldn't. With a final goodbye she walked out into the cool night.

That's better, she soothed herself. Away from the embarrassment. Your hotel is only around the corner, Jess. Just hurry back, have a shower and then play with your Rabbit. That'll release your tension.

She swallowed, and moved off, lost in her own thoughts. Of all the things she'd wished she'd had the courage to say, the desires she was never going to get the chance to fulfil. So out of it was she that she almost screamed when a hand landed on her shoulder. As it was, a loud yelp of surprise burst forth from her lungs.

"Jess!" Mike said, slightly breathless. "What's got into you? I've been calling you since way back there." He gestured to the far end of the street. "You were like you'd switched off."

She shook herself, feeling the adrenaline suddenly coursing in her blood. Anger and something else erupted inside her, her heart thumping in her ears. "You gave me a fucking fright, Mike!" she shouted, almost feeling guilty at the shocked expression he wore in response. "Never grab a woman when she's walking alone at night. Are you stupid?" Energy flowed through her, sparked off by his sudden appearance and the further embarrassment. Heat raged in her body.

"I'm... I'm sorry," he muttered at last, looking at the ground. "I... I just wanted to make sure you were alright..."

"No, Mike. No I'm not alright. How could I possibly be alright? I've embarrassed myself in front of everyone... in front of you. I'm humiliated and frustrated and God knows what else."

He glanced up at her, concern in his eyes. "Is there anything I can do?" he ventured, almost as if he expected her to bite him in her anger.

A haze descended over her thoughts and she was no longer in control of her actions, as if she watched herself from behind a veil. Animal feelings bubbled to the surface; hunger, yearning. She stared at him.

"Yes, there is," she growled, then stepped towards him. She grasped his head with both hands and roughly pulled it down to hers, crushing her lips against his.

He seemed taken aback at first, but she did not relent, passionately kissing the man she had craved for so long, and soon his shock was washed away by lust of his own. He wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her close to him, and returned the kiss as fervently as she did. Their tongues brushed, his soft lips feeling wonderful against hers, and Jess felt his hot breath on her face.

At length she pulled her face away, instead grasping his jacket, and stared lustfully into his eyes.

"Would you like to come back to my hotel room?" she whispered, and Mike merely nodded in response, animal hunger etched on his face. She bit her lower lip in anticipation. "Good".

Grabbing his hand, Jess started down the street, Mike walking quickly behind her.

"Won't the rest of them wonder where we've gone?" he asked as she rounded the corner, the yellow glow shining through the hotel's glass lobby spilling out onto the street.

She turned to him and grinned. "If they can't work it out then more fool them."

The hotel lobby passed by quickly, Jess still tugging Mike's hand as she made for the elevators. She hurriedly pressed the button, watching with relief as the doors of one momentarily slid open, and she pulled Mike inside.

As they elevator started to move, their lips were already together again, Mike bending to envelop Jess in his arms. She felt weak and strong all at the same time, and she drove her mouth against Mike's, pressing her body into him. His fingers slipped underneath the bottom of her top, and she gasped into the kiss as they sunk into bare skin.

With a gentle ringing the elevator reached her floor, and Jess broke the kiss to grab Mike's hand again as the doors opened. Seconds later she was fumbling for her keycard, and with an audible intake of breath she slid it through the lock. The light went green, and she pushed open the door.

Never before had she been so keen to get into a hotel room, but she grabbed Mike's jacket, yanking him in after her. The door shut itself automatically, but Jess had long since ceased to care, and she unhooked Mike's jacket from his shoulders as they re-initiated their kiss, throwing it roughly to the ground. Their shoes soon followed, his shoes joining her pumps in thumping carelessly against the wall.




Gaming, Meet Sex



They stepped further into the room as she turned her attentions to his blue t-shirt. Without his jacket his well-defined arms were more obvious, the hard bulges of muscle that flexed on his arms as he wrapped them round her, and she longed to see whether that muscle-tone continued underneath. She barely concealed a grin as she pulled the t-shirt from him, his chest and stomach making him look almost like a male underwear model. A wonderful, defined tone of muscle, hard and attractive but not lumpy or overlarge. Why is this man wasting his time playing video games?!

Turning she fumbled for the light switch, pleased that she had had the foresight to draw the curtains before she left, and she moaned as she felt Mike's lips on the crook of her neck. His palms were already sliding her jacket from her body, and as she finally found the elusive switch the expensive garment had already dropped to the floor.

She did not care, wrapping her arms around him as his fingers once more hooked underneath her red top. Taking it as a sign, she grabbed that, too, pulling it over her head to reveal her attractive black bra, and Mike's hands were soon on her breasts.

Jess moaned as she felt his fingers squeeze the mounds, and she grabbed his neck once more, pulling him in for yet another kiss. This time, however, her hands dropped lower as their tongues duelled, and she found his belt, unbuckling it and flicking open the button to his jeans. His own hands lowered, pulling down the fly, and Jess pushed the pants down his legs. The bulge in his black boxers was evident, and the stirring between her thighs ignited, warmth spreading throughout her lower body. She had waited so long for this moment.

As Mike kicked the jeans aside, he grabbed her shoulders, steering her further into the room towards the large queen bed that sat centred against the wall. Her small suitcase still lay open on the tacky green armchair facing the window, and the meagre and plain desk with a mirror was covered in her documents and assorted lotions and potions.

Mike did not seem to care about the mess, though, and had soon wrapped his arms around Jess, hugging her tightly. She enjoyed the feeling of being pressed against his hard, bare chest, the feeling of his tight stomach muscles against her skin. His warmth seemed to flow into her, and she bit her lower lip as she dreamed of other things of his sliding inside her...

She reached down, finding her own jeans and undoing them, quickly sliding them down her legs. She pulled them from her body, leaving them piled messily on the floor, and regarded Mike hungrily. Both were now in nothing but their underwear - Mike had pulled the socks from his feet as she took off her jeans - and she stepped towards him with desire.

Mike's brown eyes opened wide as she sank to her knees in front of him, her finger finding the waistband of his boxer shorts. She looked up at him, biting her lip as she pulled it open, slowly, lazily unhooking the black garment from his erect cock. She breathed out slowly as his member was revealed, and licked her lips. It was long and thick without being worryingly large, and it stood proudly rigid.

"You must really want this," she murmured sultrily, reaching out to place her hands on his upper thighs.

He looked down at her, his breathing quick, anticipation clearly coursing through his veins. "I... do."

"Good," she winked as her right hand moved to grasp the base of his shaft, delighting in the shivered intake of breath that followed. "Because I know I do."

With that she leaned forwards, flicking out her tongue and running it the length of his member, enjoying the hot, smooth skin beneath its tip. She kissed it, ever so slowly pumping her hand on his cock as her lips pressed against it, and she looked up eagerly as her mouth traced its way towards the head.

He opened his own mouth to groan as the tip of his cock slipped between her lips, her tongue grazing the underside as she felt his cock filling her mouth. She could taste his pre-cum, and the thought stoked the furnace of her lust even more. She wanted to reach down and run her fingers along her pussy - this teasing was getting to her as much as it was him.

That in mind, she quickly stood, standing on tiptoes to kiss him even as her hand continued to pump on his shaft. Mike moaned, his eyes tightly closed as they broke the kiss, and Jess grinned a wicked grin of lust that he could not see.

He stepped out of the boxer shorts as she guided him to the bed with the hand that held his cock, and soon he was standing naked in front of it. She drank in the sight of him; from his toned naked body to his erect member, then his strikingly handsome face and the shock of messy black hair that called out to her fingers.

She could not believe this was finally happening, and she almost laughed at the realisation of her fantasies. Instead, she moaned, the lust that had burned inside her for so long finally able to sate itself, to gorge upon the man she had dreamed about. There was a connection more than physical between them, and that both scared her and enticed her, but for now she cared only to feel him inside her. Never before had she been with a man quite so hot, and that made his carnal stare all the more flattering.

"You're gorgeous," he growled, and her heart skipped a beat as her body filled with heat.

"So are you," she whispered, and she could take no more.

She pushed him into the bed, already unhooking her bra. Fire raged between her legs; she needed him now. Soon the piece of lingerie had been tossed aside, her breasts hanging free, and a smile twisted the corners of her lips as his eyes lowered approvingly towards them.

She undid her ponytail, letting her black hair fall free, before her fingers slid into her briefs, pushing them down her slender legs. How she yearned to feel her thighs against his strong limbs, rocking against his body...

She grinned at that thought, knowing the realisation of those fantasies was but moments away. Mike's breathing was heavy as she leaned forwards, her fingers sinking into the soft sheets, and he climbed slowly backwards up the bed. Her lust raged as her eyes settled on his thick member, rigid and proud.

With a groan she slipped onto the bed, moving up beside Mike on hands and knees, unable to hold herself back any longer. Her black hair fell about her shoulders, and she casually swept it over her back as she leaned down to crush her lips against his.

He responded in kind, and she moaned as she felt his hands on her sides, slowly creeping upwards until he gently cupped her breasts. He squeezed them lightly, kneading them so carefully she thought he was scared they might break, and a thrill ran through her as his palm dragged across her right nipple.

Their mouths pressed together, and the fire in her core raged brighter, her pussy wet, yearning to be filled with his cock. She could wait no longer, so with a moan - though still not breaking the kiss - she threw her right leg over his body, moving to straddle him.

She sat upright, running her left hand down his solid chest then over his wonderful stomach, taut with just the right amount of muscle. His breathing was quick with anticipation, and so, she realised, was hers. She needed him inside her.  

Jess lifted her hips as her hand reached his throbbing cock, letting her fingers play along its length before taking a firmer hold of his manhood. He gasped, staring at her with pure lust in his eyes, and she stared back ardently as she brushed his head against her folds.

The moment had arrived, and Jess settled on his shaft, feeling him sliding into her. He entered easily, her pussy welcoming him in, his cock burying itself to the hilt. Her eyes opened wide and she moaned. She moaned at the sight of the gorgeous man beneath her, she moaned at the feeling of his cock as it filled her up.

His own eyes rolled back into his head, and he bucked slightly as she sank downwards, the feeling of her around his member sending wonderful sensations through him. His hands moved to hold her waist, and he groaned loudly.

She let out a shaky breath, locking eyes with the man she had craved for so long, feeling the connection spark between them even as their bodies meshed. Yet she could not stay still for long. The feeling of his cock as it nestled in her core caused her hips to move almost subconsciously.

Jess lifted her hips slightly, slowly, then pushed them back down again. She pressed herself against his pelvis, taking in every possible inch, her clit grinding against him. He moaned, too, his fingertips pressing into her flesh.

Soon she had settled into motion, the rhythmic sway of her body against him almost hypnotising in its pleasure. Her hips rose and fell, his cock released to nearly the tip before she swallowed him up again, feeling him sink deep inside her. Each time was as good as the first, and low, quiet moans escaped uncontrollably at the feeling of his tunnelling member.

Mike's eyes burned with lust, though he lay there near-submissively as she rode him, his hands merely settled on her hips. She grinned down at him, delighting in the wonderful feeling, and the expression grew wider as his hands once more moved to her chest. There they cupped the fleshy mounds, gently squeezing them, and Jess leaned forwards, placing her palms just above his shoulders on the bed.

The position allowed for slightly more vigorous movement, and she began to bounce more fervently on his cock, feeling her pleasure growing slowly inside her. She had waited for this moment for so long, craved it, even fantasised about it, and it was finally happening. It was as perfect as she had dreamed, the feeling of him inside her, his brown eyes glowing as they stared into hers.

All of a sudden Jess realised that he had started to thrust in time with her own downward pushes, and she lowered herself slightly onto his body. It was his turn.

"Fuck me, Mike. Fuck me!"

Her lover did not need to be told twice, and his hands shot to her ass, holding it tightly as he began to thrust wildly into her pussy. She cried out at the feeling of his cock hammering against her receptive snatch, her clit grazed by his pelvis on each inward drive. Dropping herself onto him entirely, she felt herself pressed against him. Her hands moved to hold his shoulders, and she bit her lower lip and the pleasure that cascaded through her. Her toes curled, and she sobbed out her pleasure.

"Oh fuck... you feel so good Jess," Mike moaned into the crook of her neck, his member plunging into her depths with passion. "Your pussy feels amazing around my cock."

She pulled away slightly, grasping his head with both hands and driving her lips against his. He responded to the kiss passionately, their tongues duelling even as his hips did not slow down. She moaned into his mouth as he moaned into hers, and a tingle had started to suffuse her body.

With a sudden grunt, Mike wrapped his right arm tightly around Jess' body, lifting her and rolling over at the same time. She giggled as her back thumped onto the soft sheets, her legs wrapping around his waist, and though his laughter joined hers it had soon been replaced by another long groan as his hips began to move once more.

He lay on top of her now, his weight against her, his chest faintly rubbing against her breasts and sending more wonderful sensations washing through her. He rested on his elbows, his palms underneath her shoulders, and Jess could feel his body pressing down on her even as his cock filled her; she was enveloped in him, and she loved it. His brown eyes sparkled, the pleasure that filled him welling in their rich chocolate depths.

Her own pleasure had grown too; it was no longer a mere spark but instead a bonfire in her core. She reached up with both hands, resting her left across his back whilst with her right she grasped his messy dark hair. He did not appear to mind, instead seeming to drive his hips even harder against hers, and she moaned loudly at the wonderful sensation.

Jess enjoyed the cool bedsheets against her back, a contrast to Mike's hot skin. She sank slightly into it every time his hips drove forwards, the mattress bouncing with each inward thrust, cushioning their passionate sex.

His breath washed over her, a look of rapturous hunger in his eyes, and long, low moans escaped from his lungs. His pelvis crashed against hers, her pussy welcoming in his cock with each plunging drive, and with every inward thrust her pleasure grew. Jess squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the tremors building in her depths: it would not be long until she came.

"I'm going... to come..." Mike panted breathlessly, looking down at Jess with something approaching a question in his eyes. His lower-jaw had set, and a primal glint had entered his manner, his hips unrelenting in their thrusts.

Jess merely nodded her acquiescence, her mind drifting as the orgasm that had been building shivered inside her, mere seconds away. She could feel the faintest tendrils of her pleasure snaking out from their source, her body slowly filling with the precursor to imminent heaven. She wanted to come, and she wanted him to come too - she wanted to be filled with his seed as bliss ripped through her mind.

"Oh... oh God! I'm coming, Jess. I'm coming!"

She felt Mike's cock twitch as the moment struck him, his unfocused eyes rolling back, his face contorting into the single most erotic thing that Jess had ever seen. His thrusts became erratic and he cried out his pleasure, and Jess knew that he was coming. Her own burning pleasure reached crescendo, and she opened her eyes wide.

It arrived. The flare of utter bliss; the trembling, toe-curling surge of rapture that emptied the lungs of air and the mind of thought. Orgasm.

The knotted ball of pleasure that quivered inside her detonated, spilling open to let loose the searing climax hidden within. Her orgasm pulsed outwards from her depths, and though it filled her body in an instant she still felt the wash of it as it rushed to occupy every corner of her mind. The bonfire of her rapture became a raging inferno; her skin felt hot, yet she shivered.

She could not form words, could not focus, could not think. Yet she did not care. The only sound that mattered to her was the long, unwavering scream of ecstasy that was torn from her lungs, lifting into the sex-scented air to join with Mike's own, harmonising and twisting together, bouncing from the whitewashed walls. The only sight was Mike, his hips in their final staccato flourish, his balls emptying the last of his cum inside her as he twitched with undiluted pleasure. And she did not need to think; she needed only to feel. To feel the pulsing ecstasy in her core; to feel Mike's cock inside her, shivering as it spent its load; to feel their bodies intertwined, wrapped in each other as their minds now were, fused together with the pleasure they shared.

They held each other close as Mike's hips stopped moving. He collapsed onto her, buried his head in the crook of her neck, a long, satisfied groan escaping his body. The warmth of his breath seemed to pool against her skin, and she drank in his scent as the last shivers of pleasure ran through her. They remained there, content to feel the other pressed against them, and Jess's mind was lost in the magnificent afterglow of her release.

Eventually he lifted his torso and stared into her eyes. An unfamiliar feeling passed through her as she stared into the endless brown depths... a feeling she had not felt before, but she instantly knew that she liked it.

Her connection with this man ran deep now, and she had no intention of letting it slip away.

Gaming is great.