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Moira

By: D. Campbell



This is a true story of a wonderful girl who came into my life




I was about 25 and single and was a police detective. There were a number of females, mainly wives of colleagues who seemed determined to put a change to my single status. One was Lisa, the wife of a colleague.

I received a phone call from her in which she invited me to her birthday party which was to take place on the next Friday evening. One comment that she made was, "There will be a lot of single girls there."

On Friday evening I was caught up at work and did not leave until after 9.00pm and then went to Lisa's house where the party was in full swing with about a hundred people attending.

I greeted Lisa, handed over her present, grabbed a drink and then made my way around the house and then to the garden. I had been at the party for about thirty minutes, meeting the other guests when a girl caught my eye. She had been sitting by herself during the time I had been there and she appeared to want to join in with everyone but was being ignored. 

She was pretty, having shoulder length brown hair, about 5ft 8inches and slim build.

I approached her and asked if I could get her a drink as she did not have one in her hand and she replied, "Yes, I could do with a vodka and orange," which I collected and handed to her.

I started up a conversation with her and found that she was quite interesting, being a legal secretary and a part-time law student. I then asked her to dance but she refused. I insisted and she said, "I can't dance. I have a gammy leg." I then noticed that her left leg was misshapen. She was wearing a dress. Her name was Moira.

She said that she walked with difficulty and could not possibly dance. However, some slow music was playing so I grabbed her, pulled her to her feet and held her firmly. We then went through the process of dancing, with Moira draping one of her arms around my neck and holding on tight. We moved slowly so that she could retain her footing. Moira started laughing as we moved around and appeared to be enjoying herself. I finally navigated her back to a chair.

"That was fantastic. I have never tried dancing before although I would hardly call that dancing, but it was fun," Moira said. Dancing with Moira really broke the ice with her and she really opened up.

The leg injury was a birth defect, which could not be corrected. It caused her pain at times, particularly when she walked. I felt bad that I might have caused her pain by pulling her up to dance although she said that she had really enjoyed dancing with me.

I sat talking with her for the rest of the evening. I found out that she was 22 years old and lived with her parents. She was visiting with her parents for the birthday party of Lisa, her cousin and she was due to fly out on Sunday, to her home about 1000km away.

I was really enjoying her company and it appeared to be reciprocated. It was getting late. Moira's gammy leg was far from my mind. I thought I was receiving the right vibes from Moira and decided to throw caution to the wind and turned to Moira. "Do you want to fuck?"

"Do you really want to fuck me with my gammy leg?"

"I do not want to fuck your gammy leg."

"I should hope not, but OK."

Moira went to collect her things, saying, "My parents are going to give me hell."

I located Lisa and told her that Moira and I were leaving. "You take care of her. She isn't very experienced," and with that, gave me a kiss on the cheek, saying, "Thanks."

I met Moira outside and lead her to my car. She was slow at making her way but I tried to assist her.

As we were driving away, Moira reached over and grabbed at my crotch where I had a raging hard on. "Did I do that?" Moira asked.

As we drove to my apartment, Moira made it very obvious that she was ready for a fucking. 

At my apartment, we had to ascend two flights of stairs so I walked on her left side, supporting her. When we reached my door, she wrapped both arms around my neck, pulling me down to kiss her. She was a very passionate kisser.

When we went inside, she looked around my apartment, something that other girls had done. I gave her a glass of wine and went to sit on the sofa. Moira remained on her feet and said, "I want to do a strip for you."

She slowly removed her dress, revealing matching blue bra and knickers. She removed her bra and then her knickers, which was a little more difficult for her. She then threw out her arms. "Now that you have seen my body, do you still want to fuck me?"

She had reasonable size tits with dark nipples, a slim waist and a small, neat bush. There were no tan lines on her pale skin. Her left gammy leg was quite obvious but that was not what I was looking at.

I approached her and kissed her.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked.

"You look terrific. I want to taste you," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"Put your fingers in your pussy."

She kept looking straight at me while her hand went to her crotch. She then pulled her hand out. I took it and licked her fingers, tasting her erotic juices. There was an intake of breath from Moira. 

I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, sitting her on the side of the bed. She commenced to undress me.

I pushed her back on the bed and leant over to kiss her. After a long and passionate kiss I broke away and moved down to kiss her nipples. There was a sigh from Moira. I continued on to her naval, running my tongue around it. Moira had both of her hands in my hair. I moved down, at the same time, taking both of her legs and spreading them wide although I was careful with her left leg, before I nipped her clit hood which was peeping out. As I ran my tongue along her pussy, Moira let out a deep sigh.

I continued working away at Moira's pussy until she had a noisy orgasm, at the same time, she pulled at my hair, moving me up to kiss her. 

I was unsure as to how to fuck Moira. I did not know how we could go about it with her gammy leg. I rolled over and pulled Moira over so that she straddled me. She appeared to be comfortable although she took most of her weight on her good leg. I held her and lowered her on to my shaft. She opened her pussy with her hand and then slid down it, again while she released a deep breath. I took her waist and began to lift her, before allowing her to drop down. 

At times, we stopped and rested before continuing on until Moira arrived at her second noisy orgasm. She rested for a while before turning to me. "I have never had a man give me and orgasm and you have given me two. You can fuck me any time you like."

I recovered the glasses of sparkling wine from the living room so that we could continue to sip it in bed. 

Moira rested on my left shoulder, occasionally kissing me. When she had gone quiet. I looked down and saw that she was asleep. I dropped off to sleep shortly after.

During the night, I awoke and found that Moira had rolled on to her side with her back to me. I had a hard on so I entered her from behind, taking hold of her tits with one hand and her clit with the other, allowing me to pull her on to me. Initially, Moira did not move but after a while, she began to push back on to me. We remained in that position with Moira encouraging me to pinch her nipples. She again had a noisy orgasm, remained on her side and dropped off to sleep.

When I awoke in the morning, I rolled over, also waking Moira. She climbed on top of me and kissed me. "I can't believe I have had three orgasms with you."

She said she did not want to fuck right then. I thought perhaps she was experiencing pain in he gammy leg as the result of our fucking. I found out later that this proved to be correct. She got up and went for a pee. I got up and put on a pair of shorts. I took one of my long sleeved dress shirts, giving it to Moira to put on, as I wanted to have coffee with her on the balcony. She went to put on her knickers but I confiscated them. She sat on a stool in the kitchen while I made some coffee and toast. We then moved to the balcony where there were chairs and a small table. The sun was up and it had all the makings of a great day. 

We sat there, small talking away although I noticed that Moira began to get a bit teary. At first, she did not want to tell me why. I moved my chair against her and held her to me.

"You are the first man who has treated me as a whole woman. I have had a few fleeting encounters with men but they did not really want me because of my gammy leg. It is the first time I have spent the night in a man's bed. You are the first man to give me an orgasm. I have often fantasised about a man licking my pussy so when you licked me last night I had an almost instant orgasm although you turned me on by licking my pussy juice from my fingers. You are a sexy devil."

I moved over to kiss her at the same time, moving my hand inside the shirt so I could massage her tits. I moved so I could kiss her tits before I moved out of my chair to kneel before her, opening her legs so that I could access he erotic pussy. I undid the buttons of her shirt, rolling back the shirt so that she was naked.

Moira initially ran her hands through my hair as I worked away. I reached up to massage and pinch her tits. Moira threw back her arms in a sense of abandonment and moaned away until she had another orgasm. She did not close her shirt but left it open so she was naked as she sat back in her chair.

After a while, Moira moved her chair so that she was almost facing me, She leant forward, undid my shorts before pulling them off. She again leant forward, taking my hard on in her mouth and massaging my balls. She discarded her shirt so she was totally naked. Moira worked away and gave me a mind blowing orgasm, taking it all in her mouth.

After recovering, I helped Moira to her feet and picked up the shirt which I threw over her shoulders. I looked around and did not see any spectators to our activities, before I picked up Moira and carried her into the bedroom, placing her on the bed.

"I can't believe that I gave you a blowjob outside when I was naked. I think you are a bad influence on me."

The moral of this story is never ignore a physically handicapped girl. She most certainly will not be intellectually handicapped and may reveal herself to be a surprise packet.

To be continued

Moira



Hi Litsters,

Wow, full time jobs really take time out of your day, don't they? This is the first miserable bit of literature I've managed to eke out since I joined the ranks of the gainfully employed. I hope you like it. Please let me know your opinion of the story in the form of votes and comments. Private email feedback is also welcome.

The band mentioned in this story really do exist, and they're really quite good.

A massive shout of thanks to my editor, Bramblethorn, and my beta reader RuzieD.

"We accept the love we think we deserve." ― The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky

* *

PROLOGUE

"Why did that meeting take so damn long?" thought Moira, crossing the street. "It should've been over at least an hour ago."

She walked briskly along the pavement, her purse and shopping bags tucked under her arm. Her hair unravelled in the strong breeze, but she didn't have the time or energy to put it together again. Each step she took reminded her that she was old enough to have two teenage kids.

Her phone began ringing abruptly. Cursing silently, she balanced her load on her other arm to get to it. She pressed it against her ear and kept walking.

"Mom, why aren't you back yet?"

"The meeting took longer than expected, Peyton. Moreover, I had to stop by the department store to get some clothes for Thanksgiving."

"How much longer?"

"I'm a few blocks from the garage where I left the car for works. It'll take some time to settle accounts there before I get back. Could you cook dinner for four by the time I get back?"

"For two, you mean. Shawn is eating out with his soccer buddies after practice and Dad already ate dinner at the Church down town after his sermon."

"Just two? In that case, order some takeout. I think we have the menu for Dragon Palace in the kitchen drawer. Don't order too much."

"I won't, Mom. I think I know how to order some lame Thai food."

"I'll be back in an hour or so. Take care till then. Love you."

There was an exasperated sigh over the phone before the call dropped. Moira didn't break stride putting it back into her purse. It was getting dark and few of the streetlights lit her path. She was a block away from the garage when it happened.

The gunshot ripped through the air, scaring a flock of pigeons off the nearby railing. She stopped in her tracks. The few other pedestrians screamed in panic and took cover. Soon, all but her had scurried away. She stood with her heart thumping against her chest, paralysed with fear.

A gleaming black Escalade burst out of the entrance to the alley. It took a left turn before speeding off in the opposite direction. It was a good minute later that she found movement in her legs. She saw someone else peer into the alley and cry for help before she looked in herself.

Slumped against a stack of empty cardboard boxes at the far end of the alley was a man with blood seeping down from the bullet hole in his temple to his shirt.

"9-1-1. What's your emergency?"

* *

Living a dream, living a lie -- is there a difference?

Moira Malone looked fondly at her son putting the black and white soccer ball down on the ground. He carefully placed it above the penalty spot and took a few steps back. His team stood on the half-line, watching with bated breath. There was silence, drowned by his heart thumping against his ribs and blood pounding in his ears. He looked up and saw the opposing goal keeper shuffle on his line, hoping to induce a mistake.

He hoped in vain. Shawn Malone took three quick strides to the ball before unleashing a thunderous drive which slammed into the right goalpost before deflecting inwards. The entire frame shook momentarily as the ball settled into the net.

The little park erupted with joy. Shawn's team rushed over and drowned him in a mass of bodies and hugs. He struggled to extricate himself from the tangle of humanity before throwing his hands up in the air. A last-gasp equalizer followed by taking the winning penalty in the shootout -- his performance had Man of the Match written all over it.

Moira cheered and clapped while being congratulated by the other moms in her vicinity. Her eyes returned to the field where the hugging and back-slapping resumed with gusto. The team coach had made his way down to congratulate every member of the team personally on making it to the district level finals. The cheerleaders streamed onto the grass as well, intent on letting the team know how much they liked their performance.

She watched her son lock lips with his cheerleader squeeze, Tricia. They tongued hungrily in the middle of the field, seemingly oblivious to everybody else around them. Tricia let her lips wander on his face for a short time before engulfing his lips in another ravenous kiss. Shawn responded by holding her head in his hands and tilting her head for better access into her mouth. The animalistic frenzy of the kiss neatly segued into a tender, yet passionate moment between two high-school sweethearts very much in love.

Moira smiled, sighing deeply inside. She longed to feel those lips on her own -- Tricia's that is. From her vantage point, she could only imagine what those lips would feel like. So soft, so tender, so giving.

"You must be really proud of your son, Moira," said a middle-aged lady to her left.

"I am," she said in response, beaming. "I couldn't be happier."

The half empty bottle of Prozac carefully hidden in the console of her minivan begged to differ, but she said it anyway.

Living the dream or living a lie -- it was never a choice, never mutually exclusive.

Her mind drifted for a bit, brought back to reality by the bone-crushing strength of her triumphant son hugging her. She hugged him back and kissed him. To her chagrin, her senses couldn't find a trace of Tricia's essence on his cheek. Her nascent dream of inhaling her fresh aroma faded into a distant recess in her brain.

Where was that Prozac again?

* *

Shawn made his way into the minivan after the festivities had died down. Moira got in front and took the wheel. It was a short drive back to their home, one she had memorized over countless trips to and from Shawn's practices.

They don't call them "soccer moms" for no reason.

"Can I go over to Lance's house for the celebration party?" Shawn asked entreatingly from the side. "Please?"

"Lance Davison?" replied Moira. "The kid who notched up a DUI last month? If you think I'll let you go to his booze fest, you're sorely mistaken, young man."

"Come on, Mom," he wheedled some more. "All the guys are going. Tricia is going too. I need to go to keep an eye on her, to make sure she doesn't get drunk with the wrong guy."

"You're quite the guardian angel." Moira smirked. "No. It's final. You're not going to that party. "

"Okay, I think we can work something out. I'll mow the lawn and keep my room clean for the entire month if you let me go. How does that sound? Win-win, right."

"Don't bother trying," she snorted, rolling her eyes. "You're staying home tonight."

Shawn took the cue to hang his head and sulk for the remainder of the journey back to their home. Moira navigated the wide open streets of Westchester easily. Her mind drifted seeing the white picket fences and children playing on the lawns. It was life, the only kind she knew.

There was a latent tingling between her lips as she replayed the kiss in her mind in a repeating loop. Tricia's pink lips pressed against her son's pale skin. They pecked and pulled at his cheek before moving down to his lips, leaving a trail of wetness. Their lips locked and she let her tongue glide into his mouth, simultaneously wrapping her arms around his neck. They kissed torridly, all the while oblivious to Moira's longing gaze from the stands.

"Mom," said a vaguely familiar voice. "Don't we have to pick up Peyton from her ballet practice?"

"Right," she replied, snapping out of her idle ruminations. "Sorry, I got lost thinking about something else."

Moira drove around a few blocks until she reached the ballet academy. She parked a block away.

"Shawn, could you be a dear and go get your sister?" she said beseechingly. "I'm too tired to move right now."

"Will you let me go to Lance Davison's party if I go?"

"Let me think about it... no," she replied with an eyeroll. "Now go get Peyton before she throws a tantrum for waiting too long."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a Fascist salute before walking off. Moira studied his receding form. At the entrance of the academy there was a milling crowd of others waiting to pick up their respective budding ballerinas.

The part of the street where Moira had parked was relatively empty. No one thought to look twice at a mother waiting in her car. She snuck a furtive glance nevertheless before letting two of her fingers wander down past the waistband of her dress. Her sex was soaked with unholy need. She let the tip of her index finger circle her clit before pushing it in.

She closed her eyes, letting the delicious feelings spread through her nerves. Parts of her skin rippled and her nipples stood out straight. She would have dearly loved to push her free hand into her bra and play with one, but the street wasn't secluded enough for that. She had to be content with the two fingers which were now effortlessly gliding in and out of her. She hooked them inwards, pressing against her G-spot momentarily before pulling them out to circle her clit again.

The rush of endorphins through her body triggered vivid images of herself and Tricia in her mind. She wondered so often how she looked underneath that skin-tight cheerleader outfit. Her heart skipped a beat every time she saw her big breasts heaving and falling with every jump or pirouette. The images were getting more lurid. Tricia was lying on her bed, her legs splayed and her dripping sex laid out for Moira's eyes. She crawled forwards and let her tongue trace Tricia's inner thighs back and forth before focusing her attentions on her red lips. She was sure Tricia's sex would be a warm tinge of red, maybe a deep pink. She ran her tongue up and down the length of her slit before pushing her tongue into her fleshy warmth as far as it would go.

The heat was unbearable now, seeping through every pore of her body. The tingling of a repressed need began deep within her, feeding on itself and growing by the second. Every bit of her teetered on the brink of orgasm before she finally gave in. Her body shook, kept steady by considerable effort.

She herself swim in the airy darkness of her climax before opening her eyes slowly. She saw Shawn making his way towards the car and a visibly disinterested Peyton trailing a few feet behind her.

"How was ballet?"

"The same as it always is, except we have a new instructor from the Russian ballet," she said blandly.

"You missed out the part where you and all your friends drooled at him until I dragged you off," Shawn snickered from the side. His remark earned him a hard punch to his arm and an acid glare.

"Now now, Shawn," said Moira reproachfully. "Play nice."

The children got into the back seat. Peyton took care to ensure her ballerina costume was not caught while closing the door.

"Your brother's team won by the way."

Peyton glanced over to her right before settling back into her perpetual look of irritability. The rest of the drive back home was uneventful. Moira saved the rest of the images in her head for the bathroom.

Afterwards she would pray with her family before dinner and go to sleep wishing never to wake up again.

Of course, she would then wake up to repeat the cycle one more.

* *

TWO DAYS LATER

"How long will you be away for?" Moira asked, straightening out her husband's black robes. He had received a last minute invitation for a preaching tour.

"Hard to say, hon." He placed his white collar. "Not later than the weekend, I suppose. These tours upstate aren't long. There will be two sermons at most. Are you sure you're going to be okay on your own?"

"Of course I will," she said dismissively. "This isn't the first time you've gone out of town for a few days."

"You must be bored out of your mind."

"I'll find a way to keep myself entertained," she said, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "Do you want me to see you off at the station?"

"No need, dear. I've already called for a cab. You take care."

They kissed gently before he left. She watched his cab disappear around the corner, along with the enormous weight on her shoulders. She exhaled deeply.

* *

The minivan climbed up the gravelled approach to the patio where Moira's sister waited with a smile on her lips. Her smile grew wider when her beloved niece and nephew came out and took turns hugging her. Moira followed close behind.

"They insisted on coming over to see their favourite aunt," Moira smiled, hugging Catherine. "How could I refuse? It won't be too much trouble, right?"

"Nonsense, of course it won't be. Don will be thrilled to see them when he gets back from work. It's a shame you can't stay, though."

"Yeah, I wanted to, but it's an emergency. A college friend of mine is in the hospital and I feel like I should really go see her."

"Really, who?" came the enquiring reply.

"Lizzie Hewitt," she replied breathlessly, desperate to end the conversation. "She's having an ovarian cyst removal at Mercy. I thought it would be a nice chance to catch up."

"It's going to be a nightmare driving into the city at this time."

"I know that," Moira said, getting slightly flustered. "That's why I'm leaving the car here and catching a train to Grand Central."

"Is something wrong?" pressed on her sister good-naturedly. " You look agitated."

"I'm just a little worried about Lizzie, that's all."

"You take care, Moira," said Catherine with a tight hug and parting peck on the cheek. Moira waited till she heard the front door close before making her way to the public rest room near her bus stop. She somehow managed to cram herself into one of the tight cubicles before her fingers raced past the waistband of her dress to get to her sopping wet sex.

The mere thought of what lay ahead kept her fingers busy through three very satisfying orgasms.

* *

The train ride seemed to stretch on. Moira was aware of every cyclic clickety-clack of the steel wheels on polished rail. The wait was an agony in itself, but it was necessary. She needed to be sure she was far enough away from her husband's parish.

"No one can ever know," she mused. "They'd never forgive me."

The sheer irony of her situation was not lost on her. The people who loved her the most were the ones keeping her shackled to her miserable existence. They were the ones who would be hurt most if she ever tried to break free.

Quietly, she popped open the plastic cap on her bottle and let two pills slide into her arm. She studied them carefully for a few minutes before swallowing them. She took a deep breath and resumed staring out of the window.

Her gaze stayed on the sliding pane, a strange woman looked back at her in the glass. Every day, it got harder to look at the woman in the glass with a straight face. The medicine helped her play the part of a happy, doting housewife when her husband was home. When he was away, the need to keep up the nightly charade faded and it utterly failed to keep her from crying herself to sleep.

The train chugged on, taking her from the world she was intricately tied to in the suburbs to the world she was inexorably drawn to in Manhattan. The twain would never meet. The dichotomy of her struggle had almost pushed her over the edge once.

She hid her depression remarkably well. Every subtle shadow and nuance of her personality was moulded by years of indoctrination. No one could ever tell.

She thought back to that day, several years ago, when she sat in her car while it was still parked in her garage. The lights were off and the garden hose had been improvised to go from her exhaust vent, in through the passenger's side window. She took a deep breath and tried to turn on the ignition, but her hand shook too much. The fear made her drop the key and by the time she had retrieved it, her nerve failed and she ran back to her gilded cage.

Her life was in limbo -- unable to go on living a lie, unable to stop living. She carried the weight of her indecision to every school concert, every soccer match, every PTA meeting and every prayer service. She even got applauded for her efforts by other Stepford wives in close proximity.

The train rumbled closer to Grand Central. Moira let out a low, longing sigh. It had been too long since her last pleasurable excursion. She stood up and looked around the compartment. Each time, she had the persistently nagging fear that someone was watching her, following her. It was paranoia born of sin.

She made her way to the entrance of the coach. Grand Central was its usual crowded self and no one gave a second glance to a respectable middle-aged lady striding towards the cab stands. She approached a particularly grizzled man wearing a beanie to cover his sparse hair.

"Where do you wanna go, lady?" he asked gruffly.

"West Village, please."

"You know, lady," he said while opening the door to his cab. "I bet you're from the suburbs."

"How can you tell?"

"You're the first one who's said please to me all day."

* *

Henrietta Hudson Is a paradox in most respects. One of New York's trendiest lesbian bars and nightclubs, it never lost its simple ambiance. The décor remained on the high end of the tasteful spectrum and the gleaming mahogany tabletops welcomed any friendly lesbian looking for a fun night out.

As far as Moira Malone went, it was an oasis of liberation. In here, for a sliver of time, trapped between swathes of reality, she could let out her Id. Floating on her temporary freedom, she made her way to the bar where a cheery bartender greeted her.

"And what can I get you, doll?" she said, flashing her pearly white teeth.

"A cranberry soda will be fine," came the timid reply. Her gaze turned to the thin crowd around her. More people were gradually filtering in.

"I wonder what her family thinks of her," she murmured to herself, eyeing a smartly dressed woman chatting casually to three associates near the pool table. She seemed so carefree and comfortable with her identity.

Moira's searching gaze moved to the other end of the bar where she saw two tattooed women sharing a light kiss. Her eyes lingered on the black lips while they left an ephemeral impression.

Her drink made an appearance and she sipped it, browsing some others. Two obviously sporty types walked in, carrying tennis bags slung over their shoulders. They wore skin-tights and were sweating from their recent exertions. The brunette among them put her bag down and hugged a businesswoman busy on her tablet. There were exclamations of joyous surprise, followed by a tender liplock.

"Do her parents know?" she thought ruefully. "Do they even care?"

She clenched her eyes shut and sobbed within herself. Her soul wanted to scream in despair at the world, but knew that the world would only laugh back. Here she was, a respectable, prim and proper suburban Mom looking for a lesbian hookup.

Moira looked around again. Even more trendy lesbians made their way in. They smiled, laughed and kissed. Some even dragged their mates to the back. No one judged.

This was the world she yearned to be part of.

She was feeling claustrophobic among the swell now. Every direction taunted her with visions of what she could never have. She stood, paralysed in a living dream that was bound to end too soon. All thoughts of chatting someone up abandoned her in a flight of panic. She desperately needed to get out. Her trembling hands put down the glass.




Moira



"You don't want to go now."

She blinked at looked to her immediate right. A woman sat at the table, staring straight into her glass. Without even turning her head, she went on.

"You'll miss Lez Zeppelin if you leave now," the stranger went on. "I know for a fact they're really good."

"I wasn't going to leave right now," Moira defended weakly.

The stranger finally turned to look at her.

"Right, so you always pay for your drinks when you're just getting started?"

The stranger drained her tequila sunrise in one gulp. She cringed and let the burn in her throat subside.

"You're not a regular here," she said calmly, fixing her expensive cufflinks. "I know most of the regulars in this place."

"I really think I should go now," Moira said, clutching her bag. The stranger shrugged and shook her hair back.

"Suit yourself, but you won't get laid then."

"Excuse me," replied Moira, taken aback.

"It's pretty obvious - you haven't come here with anybody," the stranger casually said. "You've been eyeing the crowd for the past fifteen minutes, trying to get up the nerve to chat someone up. You're out of your league, by the way."

The bartender poured her another helping of tequila. She indicated one more for Moira and ushered her to sit down.

"Will I do?"

Moira looked like a deer in the headlights. The stranger peered at her intently, with a disdainful smile etched across her face.

"I'm not that hideous, am I?"

"No you're not," she mustered weakly.

"Well that's settled then," said the strange woman. "Let's finish our drinks, hear one song from Lez and we'll be in my apartment sooner than you think."

"Do you do this often?" Moira asked.

"Often enough."

They were distracted by a loud cheer as Lez Zeppelin made their appearance on stage. Moira pushed her stool forwards to be more comfortable. The all-queer band paid a fitting homage with their dark leather jackets and hairstyles. A few practice strums later, the entire crowd took in the beautiful sound of Stairway to Heaven.

Moira smiled and swayed with the beat. She felt a strange calm in this world. No one would judge her, no one would reproach. Feeling an unusual stirring, she looked down to see two slender fingers making their way down the front of her pants. She turned around in shock and saw her new acquaintance leaning on her, with her arm wrapped around Moira's waist.

Moira gasped, but the other woman simply smiled back. The main lights were turned off and everybody's attentions were on stage. She looked around helplessly, feeling the delicious rush of pleasure as her new lover slid two fingers into her snatch and curled upwards.

The fingers gently went in and out of her, gradually increasing tempo in sync with the music. They were now going in and out at a fair pace. Moira gasped and groaned in a low voice, her eyes rolling backwards in pleasure. She had long since surrendered to the feelings imparted by the fingers to notice if anyone was looking at them or not.

The guitar solo was torture for Moira. The other woman slid all the way into her, before slowly pulling back until only the tips of her index and middle fingers grazed the labia. Then without warning, she would thrust her them back in.

There was a tongue playing with her earlobe now, occasionally nipping into her ear. The combination made her lose it and she gushed onto the hand at her lower lips. Every ounce of her self-restraint went into stifling a scream of unbridled pleasure. She opened her clenched eyes to find all around her applauding a stellar rendition. Still wobbly from her climax, she too rose and clapped.

"You don't taste bad," Moira heard the woman say behind her. "You will find out for yourself soon enough. Don't worry."

These words were enough to send a shudder through her. Moira turned around and sat facing the woman. For the first time, she had the opportunity to study her closely. She wore sharp business attire, complemented perfectly by a platinum-plated, diamond-encrusted Louis Moinet watch. Her flawlessly smooth skin put her around thirty. Her hair was a wooden shade of red, coming down to her shoulders. What held the most allure for Moira was the eternal look of disenchantment. She didn't seem to care much for anything.

"Who are you?"

"Wouldn't you rather enjoy what comes next and never know?"

The woman kissed a stupefied Moira on the lips before leaving. Moira followed quietly, while Lez Zep stirred the crowd up for their next song. Outside, she saw a red Alfa Romeo convertible draw up. The passenger side door opened and her new lover peered out at her.

"Need an invitation, sweetheart?"

The woman took out a Marlboro and lit it while revving the car onto Hudson Street.

"You want one?" she asked, holding out the pack. Moira shook her head. Her lover took a long drag, controlling the steering wheel with one hand.

"Make yourself useful," she said, exhaling a stream of smoke. "Play with yourself until we get to my place."

Moira was almost sure she saw a sly grin on the woman's face, even as her fingers made their way under her pants.

* *

"We've reached," announced the woman, parking the car. "You enjoyed the ride over, I presume?"

Moira sat, slumped against the leather seat. She wore the crimson flush of multiple orgasms. Her heart thumped against her chest, unable to believe what she had done. Her lover peered inside, watching her catch her breath.

"You okay there?"

"I've never done that before," Moira squeaked.

"Done what before?"

"Any of it," she replied. "I've never masturbated in a car during rush hour, stopped to ask directions while still masturbating or flashed someone out of the window."

"If only you could've seen the look on the couple's face when they saw you," chuckled her friend. "Priceless."

The woman paused to take out another Marlboro and lit it up. She helped Moira out of her car and draped her arm around her limp form. It took a few moments for Moira to find feeling and she used the overpriced car to steady herself.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking around.

"The Upper East Side," said the other woman, exhaling a long stream of smoke. "Home of the rich and arrogant. Would you like a souvenir, ma'am?"

Moira laughed for some time, while her acquaintance finished her smoke. The woman then wrapped her arms around her neck and kissed her. At first, Moira was put off by the nicotine stench, but eventually surrendered to the velvet tongue invading her mouth and fondling her tonsils. The tongue swirled and frothed inside her, carefully exploring every corner of her mouth. The kiss was slow and studied, like a low quivering flame which never exploded into a red hot burst of passion.

The woman withdrew her tongue after a long while and pulled her head back. Moira's eyes were closed, her mind replaying every subtle nuance of the kiss and committing it to memory.

"There's more where that came from," said the stranger with a devilish grin.

In a post-orgasmic haze, Moira followed her towards the elevator. The woman literally yanked her inside and locked lips in a torrid kiss. Moira felt her back pushed against the cold metallic wall and a hand making its way into her pants. She tried to reciprocate, but eventually gave up and let the other tongue invade her mouth. A finger found her clit and rubbed it hard.

For a few tortured moments, Moira forgot about the fact that they were in an elevator. Her senses were only dimly aware of her surroundings, concentrating on the streaks of pleasure coming from her pussy. The familiar stirring returned to the pit of her stomach and she clenched her eyes shut. The finger rubbed even faster, brushing the most sensitive part of her over and over until she teetered precariously off the edge of climax. An electric orgasm surged through her, leaving her limp in its wake.

She snapped out of her trance when she heard the ping of the elevator stopping. The finger whisked out of her snatch in a flash. They had a second to compose themselves before a teenage boy got in. He spent the next four floors listening to his iPod, oblivious of the thick sexual tension wafting all around him. Moira stood in the corner, hoping he would not get curious about the strange smell.

It took all of five seconds after he left, before Moira's friend pushed her fingers into her mouth, letting her taste her own fluids. Moira delicately licked each finger, smiling weakly in approval.

"Told you you'd get a taste."

There were no more sexual misadventures till the thirtieth floor. The woman led the way to her condo suite. Moira followed breathlessly, unsure if her body could take any more.

"Welcome to my humble abode," said the woman with a flourish, making way for her latest conquest. Moira's eyes went from the white foyer, to the pale hue on the walls and the assortment of artworks adorning the place. A sliding pane opened out to a balcony overlooking Central Park and the lofty skyscrapers of Manhattan on the other side.

Her eyes wandered over the place as she felt the straps of her dress sliding off. She turned and saw the woman's sumptuous lips hovering around her shoulder. The lips slowly moved over the skin, pausing to savour her fragrance. Moira sighed when the lips found her neck. The woman planted short pecks all the way to her face. She closed her eyes, awaiting the tell-tale nicotine smell of her lips making contact with her own.

It didn't come. Instead, her eyes opened to her clandestine paramour reclining on an elegantly shaped divan. She lit up another smoke and looked over at Moira.

"Take off your clothes, dear," she drawled, letting out a wisp of smoke. "And do be slow about it. I like to see my empty canvas before I get started on my masterpiece."

Moira gulped and stood in the middle of the living room. Slowly, she undid the knot of her dress and unzipped the back, letting it fall to the floor in a satin puddle. All the while, she was acutely aware of the pair of irises boring into her from across the room. The woman took a long drag, letting the ember on the tip of the filter burn brightly. Her gaze never left Moira, who stepped out of her pants. She stood in her underwear, looking down at the floor disconsolately.

She looked down at the sum total of her insecurities, interlaced with shame. It was a familiar feeling every time she found herself in a strange woman's living room, far away from her family.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" asked the lady. "Don't tell me you're suddenly getting shy."

"It's not that," she brushed off. "It's just.... it... it... I'm sorry. I'll take off the rest now."

"Look at me. I said look." Moira looked up to see the intense, burning gaze fixed on her. Her friend snuffed out her cigarette in an ashtray before speaking again.

"You're beautiful. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise."

"You... You really think so?" asked Moira, morphing into her inner schoolgirl who craved approval. The searching eyes looked up and down her frame. The two pregnancies had left their indelible mark on her body.

"I do think so," said her friend with a nod. "I'll be sure when you take that bra and panties off."

It took barely two seconds before both of Moira's undergarments lay on the mosaic floor. Two minutes before the woman finished admiring her and got off her seat to take the first step. Two long and satisfying hours while she introduced Moira to womanly pleasures she had only dreamt of before.

* *

"Hi, Catherine. How are the kids doing?... Yeah, about that, I'm sorry but I won't be able to come back home tonight... Nothing major, but they're keeping Lizzie another night for some post-operative care and I thought I'd be there for her... Yes, could you take care of those two till tomorrow?... Thanks, you're a life saver. Give my best to Don. Bye."

Moira swiped her phone shut and held it for a few moments, thinking about what she said. It all seemed so easy, so effortless. Little did the person on the other end know she was naked in someone else's living room.

"You're a natural."

She turned her ashamed eyes to see her lover standing at the doorway, naked except for the cigarette in her hand. The woman shot a wicked smile before continuing.

"I guess you do this often, then," she said, exhaling a puff of smoke.

"I don't know what you're..." Moira started. The woman smiled derisively and sauntered over. She took out her free hand from behind her back.

"This fell out of your purse while you were undressing oh-so-hurriedly," she said, never taking her eyes off the plump naked form. Moira took her wedding ring from the woman and held it idly in her hand. Her lover drew up a seat nearby.

"So... what's your story?"

"It's too long and boring," started Moira. "Why don't we pick up right where we left off?"

She leaned in for a kiss, but only felt a stream of smoke against her face. Her shocked eyes opened to see that same disdainful smile.

"Something tells me if your life was long and boring, we wouldn't be here."

"Why do you want to know?" Moira asked.

"'Cause knowing your story might give you an upgrade from just another notch on my bedpost," she said. "I like my notches to have some character. Last night, I had a philosophy grad from Columbia. She's lesbian because she finds her defiance of what society deems normal to be liberating. We spent the night exploring our bodies as well as the deeper truths in Kant's work."

Moira could not deny being enraptured by this curious woman. Even so, she felt reticence forced on by years of keeping her two lives apart.

"How about this? I'll ask you some questions and you answer them as much as you can," the woman said, letting out some more smoke. "I can fill in the blanks pretty well."

Slowly, Moira made her way to an adjacent recliner and sat down. There was a forlorn pall over her face. The other woman studied her intently.

"What do you want to know?" she asked in a dispassionate voice. A tendril of reality had crept into her fantasy.

"Why?"

The solitary word hung in the air. Moira could almost hear it echo back from the walls before it ricocheted against her conscience.

"I don't know," Moira confessed softly. "I really don't."

"Why get married then?"

"I had to. My father was dying and he wanted to see me walk down the aisle with a good man before he passed."

"He never knew you liked girls?"

"His heart couldn't have taken the news," she went on quietly. "He was always the quintessential family values advocate, he made no secrets of his scorn for gays. He doted on me. I just couldn't bring myself to do that to him."

"When did you know?"

"Always, I suppose. I mean, I never made too many friends in school, but I knew. We used to go to my brother's football games. They cheered him on and I waited patiently till half-time when the cheerleaders would begin their routines. That was all I went to see."

The woman paused to open a fresh pack and take out an Ultra Fine. It didn't seem to faze her in the slightest that both of them were naked. She lit her latest cigarette before asking again.

"Who was the first girl you were with?"

"You certainly seem curious," Moira retorted defensively. "What difference does it make who the hell I was with first?"

It took several minutes for both of them to digest the sentence. Moira gulped, still not believing that she still felt so strongly about it. The other woman put her smoke down for a second and looked curiously at her.

"Ouch, I seem to have touched a nerve there," smiled the stranger. "The memory is that bad, huh?"

"It's worse. Much worse. I've never been able to tell anyone."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," the woman said, looking straight at her. "But in my experience, bottling such a thing up for so long isn't a healthy sign."

"I'm way past that now. Bottling it up is how I wake up in the morning and get out of bed," she replied wearily. "That and the Prozac."

"Prozac?" asked her friend inquiringly. "You need Prozac? It sucks to be you."

She nodded ruefully. The woman turned her gaze to the window. Her eyes ran over the trees and hedges bathed in starlight outside.

"Try Desyrel. It works better."

Moira looked at her lover, her eyes growing wide. The cold, invulnerable armour bared the tiniest chink. The woman continued to look at the park while she said.

"Happiness laughs alone. Pain needs company."

The woman turned around. It took a few moments for Moira to understand what was in front of her, but she gasped. There were several scars and wounds across the length and breadth of the woman's back. Some were old, while the others were relatively fresh. They criss-crossed all the way from her neck to the base of her spine. She reached out and touched one, making her lover flinch momentarily.

"What..? How..?"

"You're not the only one with a dangerous pastime," she said quietly.

* *

The night was cloudless. The full moon lit up the sky with its silvery halo. The illumination crept in through the skylight, lighting a large patch on the carpet where the naked lovers lay. Their fingers interlaced and they stared up at the myriad stars looking down on them from above.

"It's so peaceful," Moira remarked. Her body was trembling with anticipation when the hand in hers slipped out and she felt it against the back of her thigh. Her legs were pushed apart. She looked down to see a pair of ruby red lips kissing the side of her thigh. The woman looked at her wickedly, before planting a softer kiss on her inner thigh.

Moira threw her head back and felt the lips kissing along the inside of her thigh, closer and closer towards the centre of her burning desire. The lips were even closer now, nipping at the skin all around her clit. To her dismay, the woman then kissed upwards along the other thigh, leaving her tingling and aroused beyond belief. She sensed that and smirked up at her.

"Patience, dear. We'll get to that eventually."

Patience was a rather painful virtue for Moira at the moment. Her amour repeated her path from one thigh to the other, never letting her lips and tongue touch the inflamed clitoris so pleadingly laid out for her. Moira clawed at the carpet in frustration, pushing her pelvis upwards. Her pussy was suddenly pushed back down by a sharp smack directly on her splayed lips.

She yelped with surprise and the stinging pain. The woman rested on her elbows and admired the nether region turning a bright shade of pink before she said calmly.

"You almost enjoyed that."

Moira was about say something, but the sound caught in her throat. She felt a rough layer of tastebuds touch her clit for the first time. The initial shock made her clench her eyes shut as the tongue licked all the way to the bottom of her engorged lips before gently retracing the path to her fleshy mound.

The licking became more intense. Moira felt the woman's tongue go inside her, deep enough to feel it against her fleshy wall. She rolled her eyes back into her head with pleasure at each passing slurp. The woman paused before clamping her clit between her lips and lashing at it furiously with the tip of her tongue. Moira actually sat up with a jolt to see the decadent vision of her clitoris being devoured by a stranger.

Before long, she felt two fingers inside her as well. They plunged in and out of her in small, sharp rapier like thrusts. Torrents of pleasure cascaded through her body, scorching every nerve ending it passed over. Her vision became blurred and her other senses began to dim. All that she was aware of was a powerful climax hurtling towards her.

The fingers were going faster and deeper. They pulled all the way out of her pussy before going as deep as they could in a metronomic rhythm. The woman's hand was merely a blur between Moira's legs. Her mouth remained on her clit, feasting on the engorged mound.




Moira



"Fuck," squeezed out Moira from her parched throat. She felt a white-hot ball of pleasure spreading all over her and converting her entire body into a large erogenous zone. Every bit of her skin stippled in anticipation.

There was a lull within the storm. Moira squinted to see the woman holding four fingers at the entrance of her sopping orifice. Their eyes met for an imperceptible moment before she thrust all four fingers into her. She screamed incoherently as she felt her ravaged pussy clamp down. The fingers met her G-spot, sparking an inferno within her. A tidal wave of pleasure washed over her. The room went dark before exploding in a psychedelic whirl of colours. Moira slipped over the edge of insanity into delirium and back again.

Moira had felt nothing like it before. Her entire being was swept high up in the clouds. She felt the calming nirvana of orgasm settle within her. Her heart beat at twice the normal rate and she could not feel her extremities because of the sheer magnitude of her orgasm. She simply lay supine, gasping for breath and waiting for her body to climb back down from the euphoric high.

The woman smiled, her face covered in Moira's liquid arousal. She began to lick any remnants of the arousal dangling off her trimmed thatch. Moira stirred and moaned in a low voice, too spent after her earth-shattering climax to move a muscle.

Moira felt her lover clamber up for a kiss. They admired each other's sweaty visage, gleaming in the moonlight. They kissed softly, tenderly dancing with each other's tongue. Moira tasted herself through her lover and relished her tangy flavour. The woman broke the kiss and straddled her. Her lips moved gently from Moira's face down to her voluptuous bosom. Her lips ensconced her nipples one at a time and gently toyed with them.

"Mmmm... delicious." she said appreciatively, taking turns on each protruding bead. She raised her head and brought her fingers down to the nipples. She took one of them between her thumb and forefinger before tweaking it gently.

Moira smiled sleepily. She tried to muster the energy to sit up and kiss her lover, but flopped back on the mattress.

"Della Kasendorf."

"I'm sorry, what?" asked her lover, furrowing her brow curiously.

"You wanted to know who was the first girl I was intimate with," she said. "Her name's Della Kasendorf."

The woman stopped her manipulation of Moira's nipples and brought her head down to her chin to listen. Moira's gaze was obscurely fixed at the night outside the skylight when she began. Each syllable came slowly, with a lot of pain behind it.

"She lived down the street from me back when I was a teen. She was an artist and spent most of her time in her studio. She was always somewhat reclusive and also taught art to some local kids. By and large, she kept to herself."

The woman rolled off Moira and sat on the carpet, listening on intently.

"All the families had something to say about her -- how she would wear something outrageous while shopping for groceries, or how she refused to go to church and so on. My sister and I were told explicitly to stay away from her."

She paused to collect some memories while her lover went off in search of her next smoke. She came back and sat down beside her, holding a freshly opened pack.

"I liked walking alone in the park. It was a confusing time for me, trying to come to terms with the fact that I was attracted to girls. Walking on my own gave me some perspective, some clarity.

"One of those days, I saw Della standing on a raised clearing with her canvas. She looked so calm and at peace with herself, I had to stop and stare. She was painting a cityscape from her vantage point. I walked to her, to see her more closely. She did not notice until I was very close and then she smiled at me.

"We became friends that evening. Every once in a while, I would discreetly meet her at a coffee shop where my parents wouldn't know. Della knew a lot about art and artists and was truly fascinating to talk to. She even offered to draw a portrait of me in her studio. After some cajoling, I agreed. It was only when I went that I realized it was a nude portrait. An overwhelming part of me wanted to run out."

"But you stayed," said the other woman, letting out rings of smoke from her lips.

"I can't explain it. She had a way with words and gestures. I have mentally replayed that conversation about a thousand times, and not once have I been able to refuse her offer. It was as if she knew me and my complications better than I did."

"Artists have a sense for the real person behind a façade," the woman mused.

"After a good hour of me posing awkwardly, Della showed me her work. It looked me, but different. So much more sensual and graceful. The face was incomplete, there was no mouth. I asked her about it and she said she would not draw my mouth until I smiled. Then, she wrapped her arms around my naked body and kissed me gently on the lips before whispering softly in my ear -- "You are not alone."

"How did she know?" the woman asked, tapping her cigarette ashes into a tray.

"I don't know for sure, but she watched me return from school every day. We talked regularly and she may have picked up some hints from that. I'll probably never know. All I know was that she was the first one who told me it was not a sin to be gay. You can probably imagine what happened next."

"I'll try my best," smiled the woman. "So what happened to Della?"

"What happens to people born ahead of their time?" Moira spat out. "One day, it came out that she was having an affair with a married woman. New York was a lot less tolerant back in the day. The community as a whole, prominently including my father, came up with a whole lot of bogus charges against her. Prostitution, lewd and lascivious behaviour and a load of other stuff. The law enforcement and judiciary were surprisingly sympathetic and she was given an ultimatum of 'fixing herself' or facing prosecution."

The other woman didn't say anything, simply looked away. Moira could feel the beginnings of dampness in her eyes as she went on. Her voice had broken down to a dispirited whisper, punctuated by the occasional sob.

"Della had to go for court ordered conversion therapy. She went to one of those barbaric camps where they electrocuted her brain while showing her lesbian porn and flooded her with pleasure inducing drugs while showing her straight porn. I know because at first we had secret letters. The letters became less frequent, until finally they stopped altogether."

"One year later, Della was discharged with a certificate saying she was 'cured'. She looked like a shell of her former self. Her face was perpetually hollow and she never smiled. To further her ideal of being straight, she even began dating a guy from her apartment building."

Moira stopped because her throat was choked on a sob. She let out a flood of tears before finishing in a trembling voice, punctuating every word with a sob.

"Two months after her release, Della Kasendorf jumped off the roof of her building. She had no family, friends or funeral to remember her. There was a simple ceremony and she was put to rest. Soon enough, her plain tombstone was carved with the words 'lesbian whore'."

"I'm so sorry," said the woman quietly, staring at Moira's face. Every tear shimmered in the silvery glow of the moon on their path down her cheek.

"The one thing I'll always wonder is why she didn't sell me out? What better way to get back at the community than by showing the daughter of one of their most respected members to be a godless sinner just like her. If she wanted, she could have given a fitting riposte to my father, but she chose not to. All the time she suffered, she didn't speak a word about our time together."

"She wanted better for you than she got," the woman said. "It was an incredibly brave thing to do."

"And I let all that be in vain by embracing the same values that destroyed her," Moira said softly. "I couldn't be as brave for myself as she was for me. What does that make me?"

The woman brought her hand down and gently stroked Moira's hair, letting every brown strand through her fingers. Her tears had pooled beside her face, whitened by the moonlit night.

"It makes you human."

She picked Moira's limp form off the floor and kissed away every teardrop left on her face. They were very close now, close enough to see their reflections of the other's eye. So close that their hearts beat as one. She held Moira in her arms and for the first time, Moira let out the helpless girl trapped inside her and did something exceptionally brave.

Moira Malone - wife of one, mother of two, role model of many, held her face in a stranger's bosom and cried till her eyes hurt.

* *

"What are you looking for?" Moira asked earnestly, waiting for whatever her lover conjured up next. The woman rummaged inside her drawers for a few minutes before emerging with a devilish grin on her face and a purple dildo in her hand. Moira's eyes widened when it started vibrating in her hand.

"Now part those pretty legs and let's give this thing a tryout," said the woman, slurping along the side of her toy.

Moira was momentarily distracted by her phone ringing. She leaned over and picked it up from the dresser.

"Anybody important?" the woman asked, holding the tip of the buzzing instrument inches above the sopping pussy.

"It's my husband," she said, about to swipe the call shut.

"Go on, answer it," the woman prodded. "I guess he wants to make sure you're safe."

"Are you serious?" Moira asked, becoming even more puzzled at the subsequent nod. Curiously, she put the phone to her ear.

"Hey, hon," she began warily. "How is everything upstate?"

"It's great, just getting tired of saying the same thing over and over again. I have to speak at a charity dinner later," said the voice over the phone. "How's your friend doing?"

"Lizzie is doing well," Moira said calmly. "We're having a great time catching up. A few more girls from college showed up too. Did you..."

Her conversation was rudely interrupted by the feeling of six inches of vibrating plastic entering her. She looked up, alarmed, to see the other woman grinning.

"What was that, dear?" asked her husband.

"I said," Moira squeezed out with some effort. "Did you... talk... to the kids... today?"

"I called Catherine an hour ago and got a chance to talk to Shawn," he said in a concerned voice. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't sound okay."

"I'm fine, dear," she desperately reassured, even as the dildo slowly slid out of her before going back in. The woman methodically moved it back and forth until it finally brushed her G spot, making her stifle a scream.

"What was that?" asked her husband. "Honey, are you sure you're all right? I could come over to Mercy in a few hours if you want."

"Seriously, I'm fine," said Moira through gritted teeth. "Gotta go now. Lizzie is being wheeled back from her latest test. I'll talk to you soon. Take care."

"You too, Moira."

The call dropped and she glared at her mischievous lover who laughed and threw her hair back behind her head.

"Stay right how you are, dear," said the woman, accentuating the 'dear' comically. "I'll be back in a moment."

Moira waited patiently, every bead of sweat plastered on her forehead glinting eerily in the moonlight. Her mind was tingling with anticipation. She looked up on hearing footfalls approaching and her eyes beheld the sight of the same dildo that had invaded her previously, now mounted on a strap-on harness.

"Turn around and stick that lovely ass out for me," the woman said, lewdly stroking her proxy cock. "I'm going to give you the thrill of your life."

With some trepidation, Moira complied. The woman took a long moment to admire her posterior. Even at her age, it still looked delectable. She ran her fingers into the plump, malleable flesh. Moira groaned while her ass cheeks were kneaded and rubbed against each other.

"You're going to remember this as long as you live," the woman went on, sinking her fingers into the supple skin. "I'm going to spoil you. Your husband will never fuck you like this. Whenever you sleep with another woman, or your husband, or even when you masturbate, this is what's going to flash before your eyes."

She sent her palm crashing across both cheeks with one hard smack. Moira yelped. The very next instant, she felt pairs of fingers parting her wet folds.

"So ready," whispered the woman before driving the vibrating phallus entirely into Moira in one stroke. She gasped and moaned. The woman placed her hands on her hips and began rocking her hips back and forth. Moira's tight, velvet walls clamped around the dildo.

Leaving her hips to oscillate back and forth, the other woman reached to the bed to get her opened pack. Without missing a beat, she lit up a new cigarette and began smoking. Her hips moved in a leisurely rhythm, driving the cock in and out of Moira.

"Faster, please," Moira squeezed out.

The woman took her free hand down on Moira's back to hold her in place. Her knees locked and she waited in anticipation of the unknown. The speed of the thrusts suddenly ratcheted up. Her pale bottom rippled every time the woman's pelvis slammed into it.

"Fuck," Moira wailed. Every stroke spurred her to greater heights of pleasure. The pleasure was feeding on itself, growing and morphing into an insatiable vortex before her.

Moira blinked. She felt her orgasm hanging just out of reach. Higher and higher she felt her body pushed by the relentless motion of the fake penis driving into her innermost depths. She felt a molten heat all the way to her core.

"Now let's really fuck you."

She couldn't believe anybody could go faster, but she was surprised. The strokes hammered into her pussy, plunging deep into her. She pushed back, impaling herself on the vibrator. Her eyes bugged out of her head and she felt herself covered in sweat. She opened her mouth to let out a hoarse scream.

The climax was other-worldly. Moira felt herself lifted to a state of nothingness. She floated on a cloud of bliss, her body still in the throes of orgasm. She saw lightning and fire dance before her eyes before everything exploded into vivid colour and went dark. Her senses went into overload keeping up with the explosion of pleasure coursing through her. She faded.

Her lover watched with pleasure as Moira writhed and twitched weakly on the bed, her body too spent to do any more. Cum gushed out of her and flooded the bedsheet.

"Do you know how we could have some more fun?" said a distant voice. Moira shook off her grogginess to register that more fun was even possible. She weakly lifted her head to see the woman walk to her cabinet and return with a bottle of tequila. Slowly, seductively, she poured a shot glass worth on her torso and abdomen, lying flat on the carpet.

"Knock yourself out gorgeous," she said, lighting yet another smoke. "There's plenty more where that came from."

Inconceivably, Moira found the strength to crawl over for the first body shot of her life. The first of many as it turned out.

* *

The sunlight was warm, oppressively so. Moira stirred and squinted at the brightness staring her in the face. Eventually, she woke up on a lush carpet, in a lavish apartment she did not immediately recognize with bright sunlight filtering in from above.

It took about a moment for her to get her bearings right. The sleepy haze passed all at once and memories of the night came streaming back. She took a few minutes to fully realize what she had been a part of. Shot glasses, empty bottles of tequila and her clothes strewn haphazardly confirmed that it wasn't a dream. Her lover was nowhere insight.

Carefully, she picked up her trail of clothes and put them on. She walked to an adjacent room to find the new object of her affections sitting at her laptop with tousled hair and her trademark cigarette.

"Hey, there," said Moira softly. "What are you doing?"

"Come here and look." The woman waved her over. Moira went and was surprised to find the woman putting the finishing touches to a slideshow.

"When did you take these?" she asked, surprised to see herself between her flame's legs.

"I have a camera in my living room. It takes a picture every fifteen minutes." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I like to keep some memories."

Moira knew she should be worried about being in such lewd photos, but her mind was still in a zone where nothing could go wrong. She leaned forward and kissed her swain, inhaling the smell of nicotine.

"I think I should get going now," Moira said. "My kids and husband might start worrying."

"Give me a few seconds and I'll drop you off at Grand Central."

"Is there any chance we could do this again?" Moira asked meekly. "I'm sorry if I seem too clingy, but I can't stop thinking about last night. You made me feel better than I have ever felt, physically and emotionally."

The woman looked at her pointedly before saying. "There is a reason why I go to lesbian bars. I'm not really into the idea of a long relationship. Trust me, it's better for me to stay that way."

"How can you say that?" Moira insisted. "I felt so connected to you. So close."

"If you say so," said the woman. "Seriously, let's not try and work on something that doesn't exist. You had a nice time. I had a nice time. Let's quit while we're ahead, Moira."

Moira digested the words sadly. Her dream was over before it could take flight. Something about that sentence piqued her curiosity.

"How did you know my name?" she asked. "I don't remember telling you."

The woman looked at her with an expression of surprise before smiling lop-sidedly. Moira took a step closer and asked.

"Did you look through my purse or my phone?"

"Nope, I didn't look through anything. I just knew."

"What does that mean?" asked Moira, unable to make any sense of it.

"I'll let you know, but first, how about I introduce myself too?" said the woman, stubbing out her latest cigarette. "It's hardly fair that only one of us knows about the other."

She stood up and tucked her hair behind her ear. Moira sat down on the nearest chair.

"My name is Heather Franklin," she began. "I'm a lawyer. You may not have heard of me yet, but you will soon. I understand that the police interviewed you as a witness in connection with the murder of Vincent Cardoza?"

Moira nodded listlessly, feeling a growing sense of dread pooling in her stomach. Heather paused and pursed her lips before continuing.

"You gave a statement that you saw a black Cadillac Escalade come out of the alley. Now, maybe it wasn't black. It was almost night time and the alley wasn't well it. Moreover you only got a second to see it all, and you were probably too scared to be attentive."

"What... are you saying?" asked Moira beginning to tremble.

"What I'm saying is, when the DA puts you up on the stand, you had better be unsure about the colour," said Heather in a chillingly calm voice. "If not, then all these pictures on my cloud server might just find their way into the inboxes of all your husband's parishioners. I might send them to everyone at your children's school too."

She waited a few moments for her threat to sink in. Moira looked like she had been punched in the gut, driving all the air from her lungs. Heather saw everything about her lover turn on its head in five minutes.

"Why?" stuttered Moira.

"It's my job." Heather shrugged. "I represent some very influential people who give me the license to do whatever it takes to keep them out of jail."

Moira felt her knees shaking. Her brain was reeling from the latest bit of information. Blood pounded in her ears until it was impossible to hear anything else.

"You chose the wrong shoulder to cry on, Moira."




Moira



There was a thud. Moira Malone's body finally gave in and fainted. The news was more than her fragile brain could handle.

* *

Water. Cool liquid sprayed against her face. Moira blinked and found herself on the sofa while Heather splashed water onto her. She sat up angrily and forced the lawyer away.

"Get away from me, you heartless bitch," she screamed. "You used me. All you wanted was to blackmail me."

"I know you feel angry right now, and you're perfectly entitled to," Heather said. "All I want you to do is take a deep breath and remember your family. Remember your husband and your children who you love so much and sacrificed your identity for. Imagine what would happen to them if your secret got out."

"I opened my heart to you," Moira sobbed on. "... and you crushed it all for the sake of some murderer? I told you things I've held inside me for so long. Can you even imagine how hard that was?"

"No, I can't," said Heather. "I'm really sorry to do this to you. It's just how the world works, use or be used."

"Was any of it real?"

"Would it make you feel better if I said yes?" Heather asked coldly. "No, right? Did you really think everything fell together so neatly for you and me to meet? A sudden last-second preaching tour for your husband and someone waiting at your favourite lesbian bar to pick you up. Too much coincidence, Moira. I've had my people watching you for a while. They were there the last time your husband went out of town and you made your trip to Manhattan. They saw you go straight to Henrietta and they saw you get picked up. After I knew this dirty little secret, the rest was easy. Everything that happened was part of a bigger plan leading to this moment. Now you have a choice to make -- what is more important to you, keeping your family or pursuing an impossible ideal of justice?"

Moira stood with her mouth hanging open. The words refused to register in her brain. Heather went on.

"I'm sorry, Moira. I was only doing my job. It's probably the most immoral job in the world."

"Then why do it?"

"It's all I know."

Heather walked over to her and put her wedding ring in her hand. She held it tightly for a few seconds. The wheels in her mind turned and she weighed everything. Heather watched her quietly. Moira twirled the ring between her fingers, lost in thought for a long moment. Slowly, painfully, she slipped it on. Heather looked on and nodded gently.

"You made the right choice," she said. "You will receive your subpoena soon to appear in court. If you want, we can go over your testimony. If it makes you feel any better, Vincent Cardoza was scum and had it coming."

Moira looked at Heather wearing the same look of disenchantment from the bar.

"My research tells me you're a religious woman, Moira," said Heather. "Will you say a prayer for my soul when you get home?"

"No."

"I didn't think so. Come on then. I'll drop you off at Grand Central."

"I'll go myself," Moira said. Heather smiled and showed her to the door. She turned to leave, but paused after a few paces.

Heather stood at her doorway and watched silently. She saw Moira's back turn very slowly and she had taken off her veneer of haughty self-righteousness. Once more, she looked lonely and disconsolate.

"Heather," she said. "I don't care that you used me. Can we do this again? Please?"

She walked over, cradled Moira's face in her hands, and looked into her sad eyes.

"You poor woman," Heather said softly. "You'd rather be with someone like me than be alone. I meant what I said earlier, Moira. Relationships don't work for me. Trust me, the best thing you can do for yourself right now is get as far away from me as you can."

Moira sniffled into her handkerchief.

"Wait a second. I'll be right back."

Heather returned with a bottle of Desyrel and a scrap of paper with a number hastily scrawled on it. She gave both to Moira.

"This will get you through the night better than Prozac," said Heather. She paused before adding. "Trust me, I know. The number is of one of my former clients. He can write very authentic looking forged prescriptions. I'll tell him to waive the fee for you, as a personal favour to me."

"How do you know I won't go to the police with this?" asked Moira taking both items in her hand.

"Something tells me your need for the drugs is bigger than your need for revenge," Heather smirked.

Moira put both in her purse. Heather stared at her face longingly. Out of nowhere, she wrapped her arms around Moira's neck and kissed her tenderly. All the walls to her stone cold heart fell for an instant as her tongue gently explored Moira's mouth, savouring the intimacy.

"Now please go."

She nodded and left. There was a steadfast world weariness in her stride now. She now had even more reason to hate the world than before. Her phone rang.

"Hello, Peyton. Yeah... I'm on my way back.... What? Fine. I guess it'll just be Thai food again for the two of us."

* *

EPILOGUE

"Hi, Mr Zucker. I took care of the prosecution's star witness like you asked. Her testimony will be of great help to us when the time comes."

"What did you do, if I may ask?"

"It's one of those things you're really better off not knowing."

There was a hearty chuckle on the other end.

"I didn't think you'd actually go through with it. I mean, I knew you were making plans and using firm resources to keep tabs on that woman, but I thought you'd go for my idea instead."

"You wanted me to put her on the stand and let her tell the truth before destroying her credibility as a witness by revealing her dirty little secret in open court? That might've worked too. I simply thought we could win this case without resorting to a smear campaign."

"So let me get this straight, Heather. This woman walked away thinking you're the most evil creature on the planet and all you did was essentially save her from having her life ripped to shreds in open court in front of the media?"

"No good deed, eh?"

"Indeed. I'll tell Mr. Lombardini that he needn't worry about his son's fate any longer. It's a big win for us. Good job, Heather. I have something to ask you."

"Shoot."

"Will you ever truly become the despicable lawyer most people think you are?"

"You don't think I am?"

"Not even close, Heather. Not even close. Anyway, once again, good work. I'll see you at noon tomorrow on that anti-trust matter."

Heather Franklin swiped her phone shut and stood in front of a heavy metal door. It was the seedy underbelly of a very popular and outwardly respectable nightclub. The sliding grate opened and a pair of cobalt blue eyes stared out at her.

"You're late, bitch," snarled a voice. "You know what that means."

"Yes, Mistress."

The door opened and Heather silently took off her clothes and walked to the solitary bed at the centre of the dimly lit room. Various sizes and shapes of paddles, whips, crops and a multitude of other painful implements hung from the walls. The woman lay Heather down on her front and secured her arms and legs to the four corners. She then roamed around the bed, studying her helpless subject.

"Do you remember your safe word, Heather?"

"Have I ever used it before?" retorted Heather. Mistress glared her down.

"Cheeky, eh? We'll sort that out soon enough. Let's see what we have here."

Her practised eye roamed over Heather's back intently studying every scar. She let her fingertip trace one of them all the way from her waist to her neck. Heather flinched.

"Are you sure you want this?" Mistress asked. "You don't look like you've healed properly since last time."

"I'm sure I want this. I deserve it, Mistress."

The Mistress let out a shrill laugh and picked up her favourite crop. She let the twisted leather edge run over Heather's back.

"I've been doing this for a long time and I've seen plenty of men and the occasional woman who wanted the crop. Some enjoyed it, some needed it, some craved it. You're the first who thinks they deserve it."

The Mistress stopped and rolled up the crop handle in her hand, ready to begin.

"One of these days, I'll probably go too far if you keep asking for this. Until then, I'll like hearing the sound of leather on skin."

"Fucking start it all ready, Mistress bitch."

"Such language, such insubordination. You're really asking for an extra dose tonight, Heather," the Mistress tutted. "Bite down hard because this will hurt."

"It had better," muttered Heather before sinking her teeth into the loose gag.

The first few cracks awoke her nervous system. The crop rose high in the air and thundered down on different parts of her back. Partly healed wounds opened up and new ones broke the skin.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Her nervous system was on fire. Pain raged through every bit of her. Pain on top of unhealed pain until pain was as close to love as she dared to go,

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Pain was what she inflicted onto people every day at her job. She sat in her corner office with her seven figure salary and rained down inhuman injustices onto others.

CRACK!

This was for the oil companies she defended when they destroyed entire ecosystems.

CRACK!

This was for the chemical companies she defended when they knowingly polluted ground water leading to mass poisoning.

CRACK!

This was for the pharmaceutical companies she defended for peddling untested drugs in the market and harming many consumers.

CRACK!

This was for the insurance companies whose claims she helped deny.

CRACK!

Murderers.

CRACK!

Rapists.

CRACK!

Frauds.

Embezzlers.

CRACK!

Drug dealers.

Gang members.

Mafia.

Heather eventually gave up counting. There were simply too many. Too many bad people walked free because of her efforts and even more would tomorrow. It was simply the way it was.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Heather closed her eyes contentedly and lay still while a barrage of shots lashed viciously lashed across his spine. She only smiled when she could feel her blood drip down the sides of her back onto the bed.

* *

If you want to read more stories about Heather Franklin, try "How To Catch A Falling Star" and "The Day The Music Died".



Moira and Ray



Ray was going home after a couple of years away from home. His mother had sent for him, telling him that she had some important news for him.

She met him at the front door and greeted him with a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. When they had settled down in the Lounge room, Mom opened up to him.

"Ray, I have discovered that your father has been playing around and has been unfaithful to me. I am going to divorce him. I have already told him to leave the house."

This was a shock to Ray. He knew that his father wasn't the best of husbands and often neglected his mother. He would go out with the boys two or three times a week, without letting her know. But to think of him being unfaithful was something else.

He stood and moved over to sit beside his Mom and took her in his arms and comforted her as she cried. 

"Don't worry about anything Mom, I will look after you. You know that you have always been my girl."

"Oh Ray, I knew I made the right decision to call you home."

Ray dragged her to her feet and told her to go put on something special.

"I am going to start by taking you out to Dinner. Is there anywhere special you would like to go?"

"Oh darling, no, anywhere you chose will be great."

So Mom went up and changed into a Lilac trouser suit with a very pale mauve blouse beneath. She wore a two-inch court shoe and stockings. Mom (Moira) was about five foot seven, with dark brown hair, bright blue eyes and a very curvy figure. Her hair was cut in a pixie style, which suited her small face. In other areas she had a bust-line of about 36D -- and a rear end like pear. In all a very delectable piece of ass.

Ray himself was a tall guy of about five foot eleven; he had dark brown hair and hazel eyes. He was a solid build without any fat, all muscles. He was already dressed in a business suit.

Moira came down the stairs and Ray was there to meet her.

"You look lovely Mom," he complimented her.

"Thank you darling," she replied with a smile on her face.

"I have already booked the Restaurant and a taxi, so that we can leave now that you are ready."

The taxi took them to the Italian restaurant, which was not far from Moira's home. The Maitre de' showed them to the table. It was a booth sitting in the back of the room where they could have a private conversation without being bothered by anyone.

They both ordered a Prawn cocktail for Entrée, Moira had a Spaghetti Marinara and Ray ordered a Lasagne and salad. They both put off ordering dessert until later. Ray ordered a bottle of Californian Red Wine and they settled down to a wonderful meal.

While they were having dinner, Ray told Moira she wasn't to think or talk about the situation at home. That this was her night.

They spoke about Ray's adventures over the past two years and what his work entailed. Moira also told him about her new hobbies and her charity work with the Doctors without Borders.

They both declined desserts and had a Coffee and Brandy to finish the meal. 

After Ray had settled the bill and ordered a cab to take them home, they went to walk out of the restaurant, when he spied his father sitting with a blonde girl. His father acknowledged him but Ray just ignored him, and continued walking out of the room, shielding his mother from his father's sight.

They went home and Moira turned to him with tears in her eyes. 

"Ray, thank you for ignoring that man. And thank you for a wonderful evening. I have enjoyed it so much. I really needed to get out again."

They had a nightcap and both went up to bed.

The next morning Ray came downstairs and found his Mom in the kitchen. She was sitting having a cup of coffee. He kissed her on the neck as he walked past, and got himself a cup of coffee. 

"Well Mom, what do you want to do today? Anything special?"

"No baby, I would just like to spend the day at home with you, if that is alright with you."

"That will be okay with me, Mom. Though from now on, I am going to call you Moira. You are too good looking to be my Mom, he laughingly stated. In fact, I am going to say you're my girlfriend from now on. Hahaha"

"Why thank you, kind sir. I don't feel like your Mom when you are around."

Ray went down to the shop and picked up some Videos for them to watch. He also picked up a couple of porno videos to watch, once Mom had gone to bed.

They sat around the house most of the day, except for taking a walk just before dinner and getting some fresh air. The area was a regular walk of Moira's and she pointed out a number of landmarks that stood out. Ray hadn't been on this walk for a many years and was glad to catch up with all the news and views of his hometown.

When they arrived home, Ray went upstairs to have a shower and change for dinner. In the meantime, Moira was preparing a favourite meal that they both loved. Pot-roast and vegetables followed by Lemon Meringue Pie with cream. They both enjoyed the meal, and after cleaning up the dishes, both settled to watch another videos. Moira lasted about two hours and then told Ray that she was ready for bed. Ray kissed her goodnight and held her tight. 

"I will watch another movie and then I will be up to bed too."

Once she had gone upstairs and Ray heard her finish in the toilet and her bedroom door close, he immediately put in one of the pornos to watch. He settled back on the sofa and undid his zipper and while watching the movie, he handled himself and became very horny.

He was so involved in watching, he didn't hear Moira come down the stairs. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and gazed at the scene before her. Here was her son, wanking his cock whilst watching a porn film. 

And what a cock it was. She could see at least seven inches, plus what was in his hand. She coughed and disturbed him. Ray turned swiftly and covered himself. "I'm sorry Mom, I thought you were in bed," he said humbly.

"Ray, I don't mind seeing you doing that. You are a man, after all. All men have to relieve themselves."

Moira came around the sofa to sit beside him. 

"Let me do that for you, darling. I haven't seen a man's cock for quite a while."

"But Mom....... ."

"No Ray, I want to do this. I love you, and you are my son. There is nothing that I love more than to see a man wank, or to wank him off myself. I love to watch a man cum. So just lie back and relax and let Mommy do all the work."

So Ray did so. He lay back in the corner of the sofa and Moira took him into her hands. After rubbing him up and down a number of times, she slid along the sofa and bent down and let her tongue roll around the head of his cock. Then started to suck and lick him. She slipped down onto the carpet on her knees and continued to lave his balls and cock. Taking his balls right into her mouth, sucking and running her tongue around them.

Ray pushed her away. "Moira, I can't take this any more. Do you want me to reciprocate and eat your pussy. Please, can I take you upstairs to your bedroom and take you to bed."

Moira looked up at him and nodded her head. Ray stood up and zipped himself up and pulled her to her feet. He then took her in his arms and proceeded to climb the stairs.

"You feel so wonderful in my arms, Moira."

"Mmmmmmmmmm." Was all the answer.

He placed her on the bed and quickly disrobed until he was naked. Then he proceeded to disrobe her. She only had on a negligee so it didn't take too long. She put her arms up and pulled him down so that he was above her. 

"Wait, I have other things to do, and you will have to be patient."

Ray knelt between her legs, making sure that they were open wide. He bent his head and using his tongue, began to lick upwards from the tips of her toes to her inner thighs. He repeated this on both legs but didn't go near her love hole. He licked her labial lips and avoided the centre of her hot, wet sheath, causing her to tremble and writhe. After about 15 minutes of glorious torture, his tongue made contact with her clit. He lifted the hood from the nub of flesh lying there, and Moira sighed loudly. 

Ray kept his tongue working rapidly on the area and eventually he could feel the run of fluid on his chin from her orgasm. Moira screamed out his name and flooded his mouth.

"Ray, I have never had a feeling like that, ever. Even your father couldn't bring me to such an epic orgasm."

"I am so glad that I could relieve your frustrations, my darling. But we haven't finished yet."

He rolled onto his back and lifted her over himself. He placed her directly above his cock and slipped her down and over it. He felt his sword slide into her velvet sheath and rest. He looked into her eyes and said, "I am now going to fuck you, my love. Tell me when you've had enough."

He lifted and lowered her until she got into the rhythm and then Moira took over. She continued to rub her pussy up and down onto his rigid pole and also rubbed her breasts across his chest. He played with her nipples and occasionally sucked and nibbled on them. All this while Moira was fucking him, like there was no tomorrow. He couldn't take it any longer and told her that he was ready to cum...... .

"So am I, my darling, so am I."

They both erupted and came together. The volume of fluid drained out of her pussy and his cock and puddled onto the sheet, 

As they lay in bed in post-coital bliss, Ray thought to himself. I'm loving the feel of my Mom's sweat soaked body laying on top of mine, her tits mashed against my chest, her knees up past my hips, her shaved pussy lips, slick with our combined juices are spilt on my half hard cock.

Sliding his hands up and down her back, alternately circling her ass and shoulders, he placing little kisses along her neck and jaw, after awhile he start talking to her, asking her, 

"Are you my girl?" To which I received a throaty "mmmmmm," 

He ask, "Are you my woman?" and receive another throaty "mmmmm." 

Then he asked, " Are you my mother?" "mmmmmmmmm," 

"Are you my lover."? Another, "mmmmmmmmm."

Then he said, "You are quite the multi-tasker aren't you?" 

That elicits a sensual chuckle. After nibbling a bit on her earlobe I then ask, 

"Do you think that one day I could add 'wife' to your already impressive resume?" 

At that Moira lifted her head, looked deeply into his eyes before a big smile crossed her face and she lowered her lips to his, engaging us in a deep soulful kiss. Felt like a yes to me.

Once our kiss broke, Ray's hands cupped her ass and he started moving her bottom up and down, sliding her pussy the length of his cock until he was again hard as a rock. He pulled her up so her pussy was past his cock-head. Moira then slid her hand between us, reaching for his cock and positioned his cock-head into her opening and slowly pushed down until he was fully sheathed. Then they started a slow languid fuck, their bodies moving in rhythm...... .

After about half and hour of enjoying a slow progression of rhythm and constant kissing, Ray speeded up his movements. Moira reciprocated with more movement from her hips and legs. She met his every move as he plunged into her hot sheath, building to a crescendo of love and fruition. They both erupted simultaneously, and the flow was like lava from a volcano.

From that day on, Moira and Ray have been together. They had enough money to enable them to move house and relocate to a country where nobody would know that we were Mother and son, and accept the fact that Ray liked his women in the older category. They have now lived together for six years and couldn't be a happier couple.



Moira Ch. 1



The smell of the pine sap and the sounds of the woods woke her up. Moira sat up in bed, stretched and yawned, the cotton sheets falling from her upper body, sending a rash of chill bumps as the cold, morning air hit her chest, hardening her nipples. She crawled naked from her bed, and moving through the small cabin to the kitchen, she sleepily turned on the gas stove and placed the coffee pot on to boil .

Walking into the main room, she looked out the huge picture window to the lake below, the morning mist making it eerie, a single loon floating in the bay, making its haunting cry. She reached up and grabbed her auburn hair and after twisting it up, reached for a hair clasp and set it up to prepare for her bath. Walking into the bathroom, she turned the pump on and flipped the switch to heat the water up in the tank, smiling to herself as she remembered when the young man had come from town to install it for her.

...It had been last summer, she had finally had it with bathing in the cold, lake water that was pumped up to the cabin. Especially when it was cold, as it was this morning. Taking the boat, she had gone to the resort where she had her car parked, she had asked the owner who would be the one to call if she wanted a hot water tank put in. He had recommended a man named Toivo, who lived a few miles down the road. As most of the residents on the lake not having a phone, she had used the resort phone to set it up for the following day. 

The next day, waking up to the sound of a boat coming towards the dock, she had kneeled on the bed to look out the window to see who had arrived. The man who climbed out of the boat after tying it to the dock was a tall, and very handsome young man, his blonde hair and Nordic good looks put a smile to her face as she quickly dressed. She watched through the front window as he climbed up the embankment to the cabin, carrying his toolbox with no strain at all. The birds and chipmunks making their clatter as he did. She heard his footsteps on the stairs and his strong knock on the door. She approached the door and opened it, 

"Hello, I am Moira, and you must be Toivo?" Her eyes traveled over him, her thoughts turning wicked for just a moment as she imagined his strong arms around her, and she felt herself blush. "Ja, I am Toivo, you wanted a hot water tank installed?" She showed him the bathroom and the back porch where the tank would go. He laid his toolbox down and went out the cabin to retreive the tank. "This tank is only a 25 gallon one, but it should take care of your needs." "Yes, I believe it will do just fine.", Moira replied. "I will let you get to your work, if you need anything, just ask." And after going to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, she settled into the huge and well worn easy chair in front of the window to read. But hearing him in the bathroom was making it so hard for her to concentrate. She had gotten up several times, just to take a peek at him, his upper body covered in sweat while he worked was making her lick her lips and sigh.

When he was done, he had called for her to come to the bathroom. "Here is the switch to turn on the heater for the tank. You will have to wait at least 20 minutes for it to get totally hot. I hope that isn't an inconvenience." She frowned a bit and bit her lower lip. "20 minutes? Are you sure this will work?" He smiled, showing her perfect, strong teeth and then laughed. "Ja, this will work, I have never had any problems with my work..never. I will wait here if you like to make sure it does work though."

Moira went to the kitchen asking while she went if he would like a cup of coffee. "Coffee will be fine Ma'am." "Please, call me Moira." She laughed at his formality as she poured him a cup and brought it to him. "I shall have to take a bath right away, it will be nice having hot water." She looked at him and smiled as he took the cup and sat down next to the tub. "Go right ahead" he replied, "it won't bother me...if it doesn't bother you." The sexual tension was thick as she stared at him, then bent over to start the water, feeling it run over her fingers..getting hotter. She adjusted the water temperature with the cold, adding a few splashes of lavender oil.

She shivered as she slowly, for his enjoyment, raised her sundress over her head and removed it, after she slipped out of her panties, glancing over at him as he watched. She stepped into the bath, sighing as she sank into the warm aromatic water. She picked up her sea sponge and added some liquid soap rubbing it to get the lather going..she started soaping her arms, chest and shoulders...reaching back to try to get as far down her back as possible before feeling a hand covering hers and removing the sponge from her soapy hand. "Here, let me do that for you" he said huskily as he dipped the sponge into the water and proceeded to wash her back.

"Do you, um, do this often?" She asked, as her eyes closed at the delicious feeling she was starting to get between her thighs. "Only when something interests me..like you do.." his other hand touched her shoulder and squeezed..then traveled down over and cupped her breast, his hand becoming soapy as he caressed it, feeling its fullness and then with his fingers, lightly squeezed her nipple. She arched her back, letting him move his other hand that was holding the sponge slip lower, following the curve of her back. He whispered into her ear, "Lay back and put your feet onto the edge of the tub, I have another way to wash you." She complied, her legs spreading wider as his hand slipped lower, tracing circles over her lower belly and further down. He supported her as his hand found her pussy and his fingers playfully teased her, making her catch her breath and gasp as he touched her growing clit.

She lay her arms across the sides of the tub, leaning back as two of his fingers entered her deeply in one thrust while the other holding the sponge caressed her nipples, the sponge making her nipples tingle. He slowly at first, then a bit faster started to pump his two fingers in and out, then entering a third, which curled up and tickled the inside of her, he continued to run the sponge over her sensitive nipples as her desire built up and with a moan she started to climax, her legs involuntarily squeezing together, biting her lower lip, which was soon covered by his mouth for a deep kiss.

He then held her around her waist and picked her up, making her stand in the tub, her knees shaking and body dripping with the soapy water, he turned her around and taking her hands, had her put them on the wall, "Spread your legs wide.." he said as she heard him quickly fumbling to take his jeans off, kicking them off to the side, his hands then went to her hips...caressing her ass and sliding down to the sides of her thighs, then in between as he spread them even wider and pulled her hips back. She giggled a bit nervously as the thought came into her head, ((I feel like I am being frisked!)), then she moaned deeply as she felt his breath right before she felt his tongue lightly flicking the entrance, curving up, with the tip just entering her soaked pussy. She pushed her ass even further back as he started fucking and licking her with his tongue, his hand reaching around her to rub on her clit, his tongue flicking in and out faster, then lifting his head, he murmered, "Bend over, hold onto the edge of the tub for support." 

She was now totally open for him, her legs and body shook, as he held tighter to her hips and entering her pussy deeper, resumed his manipulations..using his tongue as a cock, twirling deep inside while taking her clit between two fingers and rubbing it, feeling it get hard. He then inserted a thumb deep inside her wet pussy, rolling it around, removed it and without warning pushed it right to the knuckle into her ass, she gasped and then started to relax as he very gently massaged her, the build up inside made her close her eyes tightly, her moans becoming louder then gasping, "Ahh, I want you to fuck me now!." He stepped into the tub and quickly thrust his cock deep inside, her pussy slick with her come, pushing her against the wall, and while holding onto her hands, rammed deeply in and out of her throbbing pussy. 

He kissed then bit the back of her neck, sending more shivers through her body, her moans becoming louder, her nipples being rubbed on the wood of the wall from the pounding of his cock, enhancing the feeling, she felt him tense up and throatily said, "Yes, fuck me hard, I want to feel you come deep inside me" and was rewarded with the hot, pulsing of his come as he spurted deep within her, setting off again another climax of her own, her breathing becoming ragged as she continued to come hard, and removing himself at the end he finished coming on her ass. 

She laid up against the wall, panting heavily and turning her head when she heard him step out of the tub, she watched as he toweled off and dressed. "Thank you for taking care of me...both ways." She smiled and sighed deeply. "Do I need to make an appointment for a check up?" "Ah, no check up needed, but I am sure you will see me again Ma'am." And sinking back into the tub, she listened as he left and said, "Ahh, a hot bath...what a treasure!"... 

She opened her eyes, hearing voices through the open window she looked and tried to see if she could see who was out on the lake, with the fog, it is very hard to tell where the voices were coming from, it could be halfway across the lake for all she knew. 

"Ahh, men out for some fishing..." She smiled as well, hearing a familiar voice... "Toivo.."

To Be Continued...



Moira Ch. 2



Chapter 2: The Fishermen

So far Moira's vacation was turning out to be more than she had expected. Her main plan when she decided to get away from the stress of her job was just to enjoy the solitude of the family cabin. She took a deep breath, taking in the smells of the woods as she gingerly made her way down the path barefooted towards the glistening lake below.

She stopped by the pump, opening the lid to show a barrel right beside it to get some corn for the ducks, scooping up a few handfuls and placing the corn in a piece of cheesecloth which she then twisted to close. She grinned at the start of a creatures nest in the corner of the wooden box enclosing the pump & barrel and removed it to keep it from becoming a hassle in the future. She remembered as a child how her Dad had swore when the pump had broken down due to a nest of chipmunks clogging the mechanics.

Continuing down the trail to the waters edge, she stopped at the small beach to throw the corn out in an arc for the ducks that would come later, wiping her hands on her denim cutoffs, she paused, looking at the 6x6 floating dock that was her job for the day. Getting it out to the anchor 75 yards away would be a task, but something that she could do, and the rewards of having it out there for her to sunbathe on would be well worth it. Distracted by voices, she raised her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun reflecting off the water and noticed the boat out by the point, fishermen out having a good time, doing more than fishing from the laughter and loud boisterous voices. She had recognized Toivo's voice earlier and looking hard she had seen his blond hair and licked her lips unconsciously as she remembered yesterday. She saw him waving and waved back, then went ahead about her business, slipping out of her shorts to her bikini she wore underneath.

Walking to the edge of the dock, she gathered her breath and dove into the cold water, not yet warmed from the morning sun. Breaking the surface she swam out to the bouy, which was only a plastic gallon bleach bottle, where the chain was hooked that would keep the dock from floating away. Swimming back with long, strong strokes to the left side of the dock, she emerged from the water and grasping the metal rings, dragged the dock into the water, then getting behind it, started pushing it towards the bouy. She hooked the dock to the chain and climbing up, a bit tired from the exertion, lay on her back, relishing the feel of the sun as it shone down on her, already warming her and drying the water glistening on her body.

Deciding to try and get some color to her pale skin, she slipped out of her top, looking as her full breasts fell free of the confines of the bikini top. She had always enjoyed looking at her body, although she was not the average size, fuller than most and all in the right places, her body still having the swimmers muscles she had when she was in school, just a bit more relaxed here and there. Her good friend Blake had said once after a night of fun, "You are like making love to a cloud, soft & cushiony, but also able to rear up and become the fiercest storm!". She was also into her prime, her sexuality becoming more free, more open as she aged. There were many things she wouldn't dare do, but also things she would try if the opportunity ever came up. Of course she had no idea about the events that were about to happen as she turned and lay on her stomach, closing her eyes with the waves slapping against the dock, lulling her to sleep.

The hand moving up slowly between her legs was enough to get her to that almost awake stage. She moaned softly and wriggled her backside a bit, the hand slipped even further up her thigh, fingers resting on the material covering her crotch, lightly flicking over it..tickling her. She gasped and lifted her head, turning as she squinted in the bright sunlight to see who it was. "Toivo!" she exclaimed smiling, already becoming moist, she turned her body to sit up, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her arms over them. Looking next to him, she noticed another man, his features very similar to Toivo's. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend?" She asked while stretching her legs out at that point and while raising her arms, giving herself a long stretch, knowing that her full breasts were out for display to the two men.

"This is my cousin, Martin and the other one in the boat is my neighbor Lloyd who you might know owns the resort down the way from me." She glanced over to the boat as the familiar man inside was tying it to the dock. "Why hello then, are you all done fishing for the day?" She smiled at Toivo and winked at Martin, sensing that the young man was a bit nervous being there, her without a top on! "Yes, got a few muskie and one or two bass, and figured since it was getting that time...came by to see about lunch, seeming there looks like there is more to eat around here than fish!" 

Hmm..she thought to herself, I don't think they are actually talking about food, and to tell the truth, the thought of doing something with Toivo with the other two watching excited her, and even more exciting...to have them all! She lay back down, raised one leg to let her foot rest on the warm boards and looked at Toivo squarely in the eye. "What do you have planned then? I'm afraid I don't have anything around here to eat..." And she shivered deep inside while saying this next line, "except me." "That would be the meal I was thinking on Moira, and I know Martin and Lloyd are hungry too, do you think you can feed us all?" She smiled again and ran her hands over her chest, giving her growing nipples a tweak as she went, "I think I can accomodate you all, all you can heat smorgasboard!" And she laughed with the men as Toivo grinned mischeviously.

Martin had moved closer and laying his hand on her ankle had slowly started caressing it, she saw from the look in his eyes staring at her crotch that this was what he was interested in, as Toivo straddled her chest while unzipping his pants. Lloyd was done tying up the boat and choked out that he would just sit and watch a bit if that was ok. Moira knew that Lloyd was married and said, "Thats perfectly ok Lloyd, just enjoy the scenery!" and turning she looked at Toivo's cock, twitching and red, she stuck out her tongue playfully and flicked it over the tip, enticing him to come closer as she felt Martin's hands slide up her legs, his lips warm and soft as he kissed his way up, grabbing the top of her bikini bottoms and pulling them off, tossing them to the side, where unbeknownst to any of them, they soaked up the water and after a few moment..sank. 

Getting very excited, she spread her legs wide and as if they had both planned it, Martin licked the opening of her pussy just as Toivo thrust his cock deep inside her mouth. She moaned deep in her throat, swallowing Toivo with legs shaking as Martin licked slowly up and covered her clit with his tongue, holding it there before rubbing it in a circular motion. One of his fingers slowly entered, curling up and caressing her insides, finding that spot and driving her wild. She had never had her pussy eaten like this before, and the desire was making her suck Toivo stronger, so he pulled away for a bit, allowing only the tip to be close to her lips. As she chewed and licked around the head gently, he moaned and thrust back deep into her throat as Martin was adding another finger, swirling them both as he licked and sucked on her clit and labia, going from spot to spot, increasing his speed as her moisture flowed, her legs spreading wider and her hips moving against his mouth faster, which made Martin lay his other hand over her lower belly to keep her still. Martins fingers then started moving in and out of her throbbing pussy, each thrust inside had them curled up and each exit had them fluttering inside as the pressure he put on her clit with his tongue intensified, his hand softly rubbing her lower belly as he felt for her muscles to contract and twitch, he quickened the pace and then would slow, teasing her, bringing her up to that point and making her hold back, then when he felt she couldn't take it anymore, he sucked hard on her swollen clit as she climaxed hard, biting down on Toivo's cock which made him spurt deep down her throat. She raised back so as not to choke, but Toivo had other ideas as he pulled out of her wet, dripping mouth and finished climaxing on her chin and neck, his groan of pleasure matching her own. Martin didn't stop there, he kept going and enticed another hard climax out of her, her scream of passion reverberating around the bay as she yelled out "Oh FUCK! I am coming again!" 

That sentence got to Lloyd, who at that time was well into jacking himself off, he leapt out of the boat, almost capsizing it and moving Martin out of the way, grabbed her by the legs and swiftly flipped her over and raising her ass up in the air. "Ahh, I have to have me some of that!" He grunted as his thick cock slammed into her soaked and still twitching pussy, grabbing her hips and fucking her hard and deep, moaning and panting she continued to climax as she felt his cock swell and as he was coming, he pulled out and let his hot sperm shoot up her back and onto her ass. She lay her head onto the dock, her eyes closed as the last throbs subsided, her arms stretched out front and on her knees still with her heart beating fast. "Oh My!" She couldn't think of anything else to say, as she lay there trying to catch her breath. 

"That was a lunch now wasn't it guys!," Toivo asked the other two men. "You betcha!" Lloyd said, "I haven't had tight pussy like that in a long time, although, um..my wife.." Moira sat up on her knees and smiled at the men, "What happened here will stay between the four of us, especially since I know who your wife is Lloyd!" Lloyd blushed and getting back into the boat, pretended to study one of the fishing lures as the other two men got ready to get into the boat. Toivo gave her a deep kiss and a pinch on the ass as he grinned and turned towards the boat to get in. Martin just looked at her and cocking his head to the side, leaned into her "I would like to come and see you if I may, but alone," he whispered , "I think we may have great times ahead." He moved his face from her ear to kiss her gently on the lips and then while pulling away, bit her bottom lip hard, and giving her another look, licked his lips and smiled before turning to the boat and the others. 

Moira watched them leave, her fingers going to her lip, and looking at them, saw the bright spots of blood, her nipples harder than ever and an unfamiliar but very delicious feeling deep in the pit of her stomach told her that with Martin, the best is yet to come. "Now what happened to my bikini bottoms?" She frowned a bit as she searched the dock...

To Be Continued...



Moira Ch. 3



The way she sits on the edge of the bed, examining one maroon-lacquered fingernail, she has no idea what my intentions are. Today she’s wearing a white dress of some silky material that sets off the summer tan on her arms, highlighting the deep auburn of her hair, and a scarf around her neck that surely must be silk; I wouldn’t expect any less of her. I love telling her how beautiful she is, even though she never believes me. 

I sit down beside her, one hand cupping the back of her head...bringing her mouth up to mine in a long slow filling kiss. Her arms reach up to circle my shoulders, but I gently bring them back down to her sides, interrupting her mid-embrace. I want her absolutely still, my perfect china doll. 

"Do you trust me?" I whisper in her ear...then trailing my lips down her neck...I bite gently, feeling her shiver, and slowly, gently, loosen the silk scarf wound around her neck. I let the silk trail down her back, let it brush loosely against the skin of her arms. Slowly, never taking my eyes off hers, I pull her arms behind her back, knotting the silk scarf around her wrists. 

"Don’t hurt me," she whispers, voice trembling with apprehension. "Please." 

"Oh no," I reply, breath tickling her ear with the softness of a feather, "I wouldn’t dream of it. Quite the last thing on my mind, really." A small whimper escapes her lips as I brush my lips over the outside of her ear, licking and nibbling at the lobe, my fingertips gliding over her shoulders to undo the buttons of her dress. One button...then two. The touch of my fingers brushing over the hollow of her pale throat and collarbone...third button, her cleavage exposed, along with the delicate lace edge of her bra. My lips travel down the side of her neck, down her throat, kissing the tops of her firm full breasts rising and falling...anticipation... 

Fourth button...fifth button, the white dress now open down to her waist, my hands slowly slide the material down her arms, baring her shoulders and pale pink bra. I can see the tips of her breasts already taut and erect under the sheer lace, almost as if it weren’t there at all. My fingers brush lightly against her nipples, sliding up between her breasts, toying with the clasp, then I pull away. No, not yet. I want to savor the sight of her, half-stripped on the bed, the signs of her arousal already visible beneath the pink lace almost more than I can bear. 

Sixth button...seventh. How many more to go? Finally, the dress fully open, the white silk parted just enough to expose a hint of pink lace panties beneath. Her body trembling as I part the folds, revealing her smooth curves now covered only in frail pink lace. Softly kissing...licking her ear, I run my hand over her breasts, caressing her belly, down to the triangle of lace stretched tightly over her secret place...my place. I can feel the heat of her even before I’m there, her panties already starting to become wet. With one finger I trace between her thighs, feeling the warmth spread across her crotch, her body shuddering when I press on her clit. 

She moans, pressing her body back against me now...I’m sure she can sense how aroused she’s making me...the way she squirms against my exploring fingers...looking at me with her eyes...licking her painted lips. Suddenly, a touch against my crotch, somehow her bound hands have found my hardening penis and she’s rubbing, back and forth...grabbing me through my pants. She knows she’s got me from the way I react...no matter how well I think I know her she still manages to surprise me. I shake my head as I pull away from her... "No...it’s not the time for that, not now." 

Without breaking the rhythm of my stroke over her now soaked panties I slide my body around to face her, taking in the mixture of arousal and frustration that flows over her features. My other hand behind her back now...supporting her...I gently ease her backwards on the bed, taking care not to hurt her bound arms. Kneeling in front of her I kiss the hollow of her throat, traveling down to explore her body...running my tongue over the lace edge of her bra. Her breathing quickens as I cup her breast, lifting it's weight up to my mouth. My teeth scraping over lace, my tongue flicks lazily around...teasingly over one nipple...licking first softly...then harder and more until my whole mouth covers her breast. 

As she arches her body...her breast into my mouth I pull away again, again I hear her groan in frustration. Just barely out of reach, I blow softly across her hard nipple...straining beneath the wet lace. Unable to control myself I grab her bra in my teeth and pull it downward...freeing her breast and hear her gasp as cool air brushes over her hard nipple. My mouth returns, continuing to tease, lick, suck as my fingers move faster on her crotch. Her eyes are closed...her cheeks are flushed...soft whimpers of pleasure coming from between her wet and reddened lips. 

So close now, I can tell she’s close. My finger moves up the leg of her panties, peeling away the wet panties from her swollen and sensitive pussy. First one finger...then another...plunges in deeply as my thumb continues to press on her swollen clit. My whole hand’s up there now, the lace stretched almost to the point of tearing. Her body...pinned under my mouth and hands, moving against me...becoming quicker and more urgent...her moaning becoming louder. 

But I’m not ready. Not yet, no. I want to prolong her desire...her release...to freeze in my memory the sight of her balanced just on the edge of her orgasm. I pull my mouth off her breast...remove my hand from its hot, wet cave to stroke the skin of her inner thigh. Her body’s so tense it’s practically vibrating. She opens her eyes...glaring at me...knowing how much I’m enjoying this. 

Softly...ever so lightly...I run my wet fingers over her lips...coating them...then trace them gently down her chin, the middle of her throat. I touch the tips of each breast, one still covered in lace...the other bare. I circle her belly button, then push my way back down inside the top of her panties to her slippery wet pussy. My fingers...curling...find her most sensitive places as my whole palm cups her...pressing...rubbing...feeling her wetness and her heat. I can tell the instant she comes...her face flushes...her breath catches in her throat...her legs clench, and I can even feel her muscles squeezing my fingers...deep inside. I keep stroking...pushing...feeling her body shudder...over and over again...until finally, with a loud cry...she collapses...exhausted. 

Moira looks away from the book...a smile on her lips...her hand still between her legs as her climax ends...and sighs...



Moira Ch. 4



The first few times they had seen each other, the initial meetings were remarkable not only for their awkwardness but also of their interaction. It could be said that they did not completely ignore each other. 

She had very little to do with him because the eroticism she felt in his presence was like the thick jungle air, pressing on her like two atmospheres, making the ground under her feet soft and treacherous. She knew God was cruel and that a feeling like hers couldn't be reciprocated with one like him... or so she thought. She focused her concentration on something else, keeping her hands locked around her drink, because her hands trembled. 

She reacted in the same way she would if someone had shoved her into the tiger cage at the zoo. She was fascinated by his power and beauty, and she was afraid of what might happen if she made any sudden moves. She was afraid of what would happen if she touched him. Her thighs and back felt weak, and she didn't think she could run. She finished her drink and left to go back to her cabin.

When he woke up, he thought of her. When he drove, he thought of her. He masturbated to porno magazines. He could come only when he closed his eyes. He made the decision to see her. He asked the front desk at the lodge about her, if she had a phone. He groaned, she did not, but his heart gave a little leap when the owner said that she usually came to town on Tuesdays. Sitting on the porch of his rented cabin, he composed a story about how to approach her. He forgot it when he saw her boat approach the dock, the dock-boy running to help her. He forgot that he had composed a story, he forgot that he had ever been concerned with cover stories at all. He stood up and walked to the dock.

"Hi," he said. "Hello," she answered. 

That morning, she'd dreamed that he'd say hello to her. In the dream, he was the same age but she had somehow been much younger. He'd talked to her about gardens, and for some reason the conversation had made her heart burst with excitement. 

She did not speak, and he resisted the urge to say what he was about to say. The urge overcame him. "How do I get to your cabin?" Numbly, she told him. "I'll be there in four hours. Put your hair up. Put your makeup on. Do not use perfume. Go barefoot. Where white panties and nothing else." 

"Yes," she said. He swallowed, turned and walked back to his cabin. She stared at him, trembling and then walked to the lot where her car was parked, go it, just sitting with the key in the ignition. Then she snapped out of whatever phase she was in, turnedthe key in the car and drove to town to buy a few groceries. She also bought white panties, even though she already had three pair in her drawers. 

She got back to the cabin with half an hour to spare. She stood naked in front of the mirror putting up her hair and applying her makeup. The sight of her own body increased her excitement. She turned her easy chair to face the window overlooking the lake below and arranged herself in it. She rearranged herself after two seconds. She squirmed around a third time, crossed her leg over her knee, spread her arms along the back of the chair, and instantly felt so absurd that when she heard his boat approaching she leaped to her feet in a panic of embarrassment. After a short bit, she heard his steps, and then his knock on the door...he knocked again. She straightened her back and lifted her chin. He opened the door and walked into the cabin. 

He walked into her cabin. 

He stood with the door open behind him, studying her as if he was trying to see through a thick fog on an early morning after a heavy rain. He looked at her ankles, he looked at her face. She watched his eyes roam over her auburn hair. Fascinated, she stared at the way his cheekbones created the hollows of his eyes. She realized that she had passed the point where she could have not fucked him. Where had that been? 

"How are you?" she asked. He reached carelessly behind him, and with a flick of his fingers swung the door more shut. He extended the fingers of his other hand out towards her stomach, he had the waistband of her new panties in his fist. He moved his hand downwards slightly, she could feel the heat of his body, her waistband pulling at her, a thrilling inch of her pelvis exposed. His face was against her face. She felt his warm breath against her neck, drawing shivers upon her whole being. The crackle from the wood stove the only sound other than the beating of her heart she hears

He pushed her down in the chair. He brushed his thumbs down her hipbones as he pulled the panties off. She raised her butt off the chair to let him do it. Having to push her pussy closer to his face made her breath go fast and shallow. He ducked his head and sucked her clit into his mouth. The thought that he was tasting her - literally tasting her, actually experiencing her through his tongue - fascinated her. She tried to imagine it. What is he thinking? His doing it shattered her concentration. 

He put his hands underneath her back and her ass. Warmth radiated into her flesh. He licked her belly button. Although she hadn't come, she was already soaked and trembling. Someone was undoing his pants, and it was her. She'd never been so aware of a cock before, it's thickness, it's length, the come glistening on its head. He was rhythmically pressing his upper thighs between her spread legs. The muscles in his arms trembled, his fingers were pressing into her back. 

"Fuck me with this," she whispered up to him, pressing his cock against her damp pubic hair with the flat of her hand. He took his thick cock in his fist and plunged it into her. She was breathing like a animal, her teeth clenched and bared. He used fast, deep, sliding strokes, his fingers interlaced behind her neck, and in five minutes he made her come like nothing before. Just as she came she was surprised to feel him yank himself out of her. He stood up and bumped his cock against her face, she lifted up her chin...opening her mouth and stuck the tip of her tongue out. Warm pulses hit her tongue, her bottom lip. She closed her eyes and then swallowed him, and thought, 'that can't be his come', just before it was spurting into her mouth, down her throat. 

He groaned. His knees bent, she felt his legs threaten to give way, and suddenly she knew the power she had over him, that he was barely aware of the noise he made. The realization made the room spin. The softening of his cock in her mouth was something she wouldn't accept. She grabbed the back of his knees with her hands and went with him onto his back, never letting him out of her warm mouth, her tongue flicking under the length of him, chewing gently, swallowing him whole. 

Afterwards, she would always think of sex with him as eating him. She would always associate it with a feeling of pressure at the back of her throat, even when she was imagining him pounding her to the mattress with his cock, hard and wet. The door was still ajar, the cool breeze stirring the hairs at the nape of her neck, but nothing of that mattered, not now while feeling his cock swell deep in her throat and from his groans, knowing that another come was soon to happen...and gladly wanted. 

As their brief although fantastic summer relationship progressed, she was surprised that she was not his slave. She collapsed so completely that first time that the thing she could imagine him having was ownership entire. She was convinced that he would one day try to penetrate her ass. She mentally prepared herself to resist him. He never tried it. Her reactive efforts to enslave him were like trying to fit her hands around a marble floor. There was no place to get a grip and the floor didn't notice. He didn't want to own her. Owning her would have destroyed the dynamic in their relationship that excited him. He couldn't take what he already owned, he could only use it. 

As it was, they could hardly sleep together. Literally sleep together. After five or ten minutes of ferocious sex, which the jealous clock told them had taken three hours, they would faint practically on top of each other, the muscles in her thighs quivering, his cock stinging as it shrank. Ninety minutes later his bladder would torture him awake. Back from the bathroom, he would slide gratefully back into the warm bed and find her, half-asleep, already spreading her legs. 

He would remember forever how she looked the first day that found him at her cabin. The setting sun had been creeping into the room through the window for a quarter of an hour, showing first clearly her features, then the exhaustion, then the ecstasy, finally the sweat at her temples. Her pelvis and head had both been tilted back, her body a bow, her long auburn hair streaming down her back, her breathing labored, and him pumping her steadily from behind, her knees on the bed, her hands on the windowsill, when the last birdsong came through the screens before the sun finally set. 

"I have found her," He thought to himself... 

To Be Continued...



Moira Ch. 5



Chapter 5: The Animal Inside Her

They occasionally went out, going into town to shop or to eat. She enjoyed these excursions more than he, because she knew instinctively, and certainly through experience, as well, that he thought of these activities as something trivial compared to fucking her again. One time she had mounted him in a restaurant parking lot, in the back seat of his SUV with the tinted windows, in order to have his attention in some other way while they were inside. 

In the early part of their short summer fling they went dancing only once. He was ill-tempered the whole time. Every time he saw her out of the corner of his eye, he fought the impulse to look at her squarely. When he looked at her squarely he was infuriated by the fact that he couldn't pull her little black dress up over her head and cover his body with hers. He danced reluctantly because it made it impossible for him to think when she shimmied and writhed so close to him and he couldn't touch her. 

Of course he could touch her. People were touching each other all over the room. Big deal. She sensed his frustration and enjoyed teasing him. His mounting anger angered her as well, she thought it was childish. She mistook it for jealousy. Other men stared at her. The truth was he hardly noticed anyone else in the room. 

When she started rubbing up against him, bumping and grinding just hard enough for him to feel but not hard enough to get any satisfaction, he stuck his hands in his pockets and just stopped dancing. She threw back her head and laughed at him. She put the tips of her first two fingers gently in her mouth, past those luscious ruby lips of hers. Looking at him to make sure he saw her doing it, she sucked her fingers gently, her lips parted so that he could see the pink tip of her tongue. Her other hand pulled up on the hem of the dress that hugged her body like it was painted on. 

His frown could have stopped a bus. She smiled all the more and wheeled around, swinging her hips, thrusting her breasts out, and when she had turned completely around he was gone. She saw the white back of his retreating jacket through the crowd. She laughed out loud, closed her eyes and went on dancing. 

He sat at the bar and began waiting until the stars burnt out or closing time or she came to him. While he was at the bar, she was waiting for him on the dance floor. It took only a few minutes before a man in a black silk shirt started dancing near her, and then with her when she allowed him to by facing him squarely. 

"You are fine!" The man in the silk shirt shouted. "You are one of the finest ladies here!" She smiled. "I don't believe a word you're saying," she said in a normal tone, which meant that he couldn't hear her over the music. He pretended to by nodding and smiling. "Can I get you a drink?" He asked. She thought about how long she'd been left alone. "No," she said, and led him towards the bar on the other side of the room, putting her arm around him on the way, feeling his arm go around her. She took a sharp left turn on the way to the bar and they were out the back door in ten more steps. 

The back door opened to a parking lot, and the man in the black silk shirt was confused for a minute. But he understood as soon as she pulled him into an alley. It wasn't really an alley. It was a sidewalk between the two buildings. She slipped behind him. She didn't want to kiss him, and she didn't want him to touch her breasts. She tried to work one hand into his jeans with the other caressed over the hard muscle of his stomach, under the silk shirt. His jeans were so tight she couldn't get her hand down his pants. 

"Hey, hey, hey," he said, trying to turn around. It had also started to drizzle, the smell of the rain entering deeply with each breath she took, exciting her more...then it came a downpour. But she'd gotten his jeans unzipped and had his cock in her hand. He forgot about trying to turn around after that. She nibbled his neck, rubbing her cheek against his shirt. The rain making it slick. She made him put his hands against the concrete wall of the music/video store that shared the alley with the club as she pumped her fist up and down his cock, already swelled with blood. 

They were partially hidden behind a recycling bin for cardboard, and they were flanked by discarded wooden cases, there were also old movie posters laying around. In the dark alley it was like being watched by strangers. She cupped the end of his cock in the palm of one hand and squeezed his shaft with the other when the man in the black silk shirt finally came, squirting himself into her palm with surprising force. She smeared it down the front of his shirt and on his body under his shirt, washing her hands of him. He shivered at the touch of his own rapidly cooling come. 

"Thanks!" She said brightly, letting go of his cock. She walked away from him in the alley, leaving him to struggle with his undone jeans and his come stains. Back inside, she put her arms around him where he sat at the bar, she was soaked. She pressed her cheek against his back. She rubbed her face against the back of his jacket. She smiled at the pleasure of it. "Let's go home," she whispered. "You are all wet." He monotoned. She just laughed throatily and walked to the door.

He stood up, and on the ride home they hardly spoke. There was a space between them like the space between a long married couple who had said everything they could say to each other, but would be embarrassed to talk to themselves in the presence of the other. He seemed okay with that, and she wasn't going to bring it up. When they reached his cabin at the lodge, she walked inside while he closed and locked the door behind them. There was no sound except the sound of her heels on the wood floor and the sound of him working the lock. He seized the hem of her dress at the back of each of her thighs in his hands, the fabric across the front of her thighs suddenly tensed and stretched and she came up short, rocking forward on her high heels. 

He pulled the dress away from her body and a touch of conditioned air raised goosebumps on her hips. He deftly folded up the last twelve inches of the dress, leaving the thickness of the material around her stomach and exposing her below the belly-button. "Ugh," she shivered at the sensation and thrust her hips back, seeking the warmth of his body, but she sensed him move away from the motion. 

"I told you not to wear these," he said. She heard the rustle of his hand going into a suit pocket. He held her in place with one hand on her hip as he slashed through her wet panties at each hip with a pocket knife, one serrated tooth leaving a thin white scratch along the curve of one pelvic bone. He pulled the ruined panties off her body with the same hand that held the knife. She heard the slap as they hit the floor. Then he put her on the floor on all fours. Her back curving like a cat as she thrust her ass up in the air, purring deep in her throat.

She stopped using her eyes. There were three small objects on the floor that she wouldn't have been able to catalogue even if someone had asked her then, while she was staring at them. She listened to the grunting sounds of him lining himself up behind her. 

When he started fucking her he used all of his cock except the last half inch, so that their bodies never touched. The heel of his left hand pressed into the small of her back, the floor pressed against her palms and her knees, the fingers of his right curled around her hip, controlling her motion, how she thrust back at him. She still had her heels on. The sensation was almost completely anonymous. It felt like a gently warming thread was being pulled through her cunt and out the base of her neck, sawing every nerve in her spine like the strings on a violin. She thought she was silent while she grunted against his plunges.

She would forget it afterwards, on a conscious level at least. Because she'd forgotten it she didn't know if she was testing it or trusting it in the incident of the boy. The boy was nineteen, slender, soft-skinned and smooth-chested. His hair was pale enough not to be brown but not yellow enough to be blonde. It was a delicately unfinished color. 

She saw him one day while she sat in the open door of her car, eating a quarter pounder with cheese. A team of teenaged landscapers was spreading mulch under the shrubs and around the pines that sprouted from the lawn of a travel agent's office. She watched the one with the finest hands, and the mouth that lacked the aggressive sneer the others had. He was dressed in cargo khakis and a black tank top that fit him like a second skin. 

Gradually she recognized him as the younger brother of a woman she had lunched with once. Her sandwich finished, she wadded it's wrapper into a ball and tossed it into her back seat. She stood up, dusted her hands off against her skintight jeans, and went over to say hi. She took the boy with her back to her cabin, and it was no difficult thing to convince him to come. It was a promisingly warm day late in the spring. She wore her jeans with a black crocheted cardigan with long sleeves that buttoned up to a V-neck, and was only just long enough to be called full length, although it showed off a centimeter of the golden skin above the waistband of her jeans as often as it concealed it. The boy lagged behind her as they walked up the steps to the front door, and she took his hand and led him, smiling, "Come on, this is me." She kicked her sandals off and bounced into the cabin. 

She offered him soda out of a two-liter bottle and he stood awkwardly beside her in the kitchen as she poured it for him, unaware that he was staring at the luscious curve where hip joined flank or of how obvious it was that he was staring. She finished pouring and handed him a plastic cup that brimmed over and sent a sheet of fizzing soda to make a sticky mess of his hand. 

She took the opportunity to put her hand on his chest, four fingers between collar bone and nipple, two on his tank top, two on bare skin. "Oh, look at your hand. Wash it off in the sink. I need to go to the bathroom." In the bathroom she pulled her arms into her sweater one after the other, took her bra off and left it hanging on the back of the bathroom door. She heard the boy washing his hands in the kitchen sink. She heard a knock at the front door, then a pause, then someone coming in the house. He had arrived; she heard muted male voices. As a final touch she undid the snap on her jeans. She felt the heavy power pooling in her breasts and in her cunt. Folding the two flaps of denim on either side of her fly down, she went to join the men. 

Her lover watched as she practically melted the tank top and the cargo pants off the boy. The boy was dumbfounded for a short while, but his own rising hard-on overwhelmed his young brain. She splayed him out on his back, his slender body a tanned diagonal slash against the black living room rug. Naked from the waist down, she straddled him, pressing against the boy's hips warm thighs made firm by her incessant fucking with the man who now watched her attentively from the edge of the couch. 

She kept her cardigan on, unbuttoned and pushed back so that the black wool framed her breasts, which heaved and thrust as she hovered above the boy on the rug below her. She ran her hands over the boy's smooth chest. She playfully stroked his face. She stared into her lover's eyes and couldn't help the Cheshire smile that conquered her face. "Do you want me to fuck this boy? Do you want to see me ride this boy?" The boy pumped his hips below her. His cock, rigid with his own blood, pointed like a steel arrow towards his belly button. Her neatly trimmed cunt hovered tantalizing centimeters away, now and then brushing the base of his tortured member as he squirmed below her. Then she took his cock in her hand, gave it two firm, slow strokes, and slipped it between the slick and swollen walls of her cunt. 

The boy moaned, spasmed and kicked beneath her. She absorbed the heat his eager cock radiated inside her. Still hovering above him, her thigh muscles tense with the effort, she slipped up and down on his rod, rotating her hips, never quite setting her weight completely down on him. Inside her he was as hard and slick as some strange liquid that, at the temperature of a fevered body, froze into a supple and hot kind of ice. He was so hard, and she had been so wet when she mounted him, that she came in only a few minutes. As she shuddered he cried out and spasmed all the harder. She lifted herself off him and took his slippery cock in her fist just as it began to spit ribbons of come into her pubic hair, onto her skin, and onto the taut muscles of his abdomen. Then she hustled the boy out. She did it with big friendly smiles and small talk, but he was out the door in fifteen minutes, telling him just to leave the keys to her boat at the lodge desk. 

She used her hip to bump the door shut behind the young landscaper. One hand leaning on the doorknob, her jeans slung low around her hips and unsnapped, only the button across her breasts fastened, she turned and faced her lover with a smile of great self-satisfaction and bravado. He smiled back at her, cynically. "He's very beautiful. Was he any good?" "Yes, he was," she purred, stretching. "Beautiful." "Does that make up for inexperience?" He was coming towards her. "He had lots of enthusiasm. Such a cute little body. I think you enjoyed watch..." 

Her words cut off as he pushed her down and rammed his hard cock deep into her throat, holding it there, her eyes welling with tears, fighting the choking sensation. Her nostrils puffing in and out trying to get her breath. "Yes, I enjoyed watching you fuck that boy, but I'll enjoy better fucking your mouth. Suck me slut." He felt her neck relax as she moved her head in order to accomodate him better. Her hot tongue slipping underneath. Her licks on his balls driving him crazy as she moved her head faster, taking over, controlling. Her teeth rubbing up and down the shaft. "Yes, " he groaned, "Bite it, swallow me." He looked at her face, her eyes watching him as he forced his cock deeper and faster, her head now trying to pull back. He grabbed an handful of her auburn hair, twisting it cruely and forced his thumb into her mouth while he fucked.

Coming close, he thrust her away. She fell backwards against the door, her mouth reddened by the force of him. She licked her lips slowly, growled and on her knees crawled back towards him, snapping her teeth. She stuck out her tongue and flicked it along the bobbing head of his angry cock, swollen with blood. He took his cock in his fist and slapped her face with it. She laughed, stood up and walked towards the kitchen. He looked at her retreating back, stunned. Following her, he pushed her up against the counter, splaying her legs apart and aiming well, entered her pussy with one hard thrust. She was soaked, the scene of another's cock in her had infuriated him. He turned her to the side, grabbing her leg and raising it up. His fingers marking her thigh as he gripped. He started fucking her while biting her shoulder. She started panting. "Ahh, yes, make me come, fuck my pussy hard." He always loved hearing her talk while they fucked. And she knew it.

Her hand slid down between her legs. "Ohh yes, your hard cock feels so good Baby, come on, give it to me. Make your slut squirt." He bit her harder, drawing blood this time. She turned her head at the pain, seeing the blood, she raised a finger, drawing it through the welling blot, and stuck it in her mouth, sucking it . She got another and smeared it around her lips. "Ah, FUCK!" He cried out, pounding her all the harder. "Oh Yes! Do it to me, fuck me..yes, ahh don't stop! You are Ohh YES! FUCK YES!" Her screams getting louder as he felt her insides contract, gripping his cock. "Ahh GOD! I'm going to COME NOW! Fuck..FUCK! Yes, Harder, HARDER DAMMIT! Ohh YEEEEEEESS..Fuck this cunt!" 

Her shuddering and bucking against him started his cock going, hot sperm flooding, dripping down her thighs, mingling with her come. He felt another climax out of her, her screams deafening. "FUCK..you Bastard! Again! Make me come again! Ahh YES!! He rubbed his thumb across her still hard clit, his cock left her dripping pussy and in the moment he rammed his cock deep in her ass. Her scream of pain & pleasure rang out. "Ahh FUCK! I am coming Again! Ahhhhhh!!" He felt his fingers becoming soaked, her clit pulsing, he stuffed three fingers deep inside her cunt, finger fucking her hard as his cock twitched and swelled in her tight ass. Her legs shaking, her upper body falling into the sink, hair spilling all around. He grabbed a handfull of her hair, pulled her head back and as he started to come in her ass, he let out with a light pop, took her long tresses and wrapped them around his spurting cock. "Ahh..Ahhh..FUCK!" He groaned. She sank to the floor, whimpering as he finished and wiped his cock clean on her hair.

She heard him leave, laying on the cold wood floor, a smile on her lips. After the sound of the boat motor's last echo was heard, she stood up and made her way to the bathroom.



Moira Learns To Mind



It was odd how I came to work in car sales. I had heard of the wild times after hours. The tales told of men with wads of cash in their pockets - and the women who left those pockets empty - killed many a long hour of standing around the car lot smoking cigarettes and nursing hangovers. If it weren't for coffee, cigarettes and the vicarious pleasures of those stories, I would have had no social life at all.

Late one evening, Joe, the sales manager, and I were walking the lot making sure that all the cars were locked for the evening. Joe began another story of his adventures at sales conferences. Apparently, he was conducting training sessions about a new sport utility vehicle. The sessions were repetitive and mind-numbing. Before his last scheduled session, Joe slipped out the back door for a smoke and a quick snort. When he returned to the conference room only one trainee showed up. But this trainee wasn't your typical salesman. Actually, she was no salesman at all ...

At this point I interrupted Joe's tale. "Joe, everyday I sit here and listen to all these war stories. But it seems they all occurred at least fifteen years ago."

"Well, man, you missed the heyday of hedonism.. The seventies and eighties were flat off the hook. The blow, the strippers, the poker games with monthly paychecks as the stakes. It was insane," he replied with his cajun grin.

"Yeah, I guess those were the days, huh, Joe?" I said with more than just a bit of resignation.

I began to plan my evening. Stops at the liquor store, the grocery store, the video store and then a few hours of escapism before returning to hump the lot through another Saturday. Saturdays were the moneymaking days in car sales. And while most of the guys looked forward to the opportunity to earn a month's wages in a day, all I could do was envy the customers' freedom to spend a Saturday shopping for cars or in any way they chose.

"You know you're right, boy. Nobody runs around like they used to. What say we go grab a beer and see what's up these days," Joe said as he pulled the latch on the last car.

Wow! Going for a beer with an old, married dude and the chance to hear Joe travel further and further down memory lane, now that's entertainment. But, who was I kidding. This was my best social invite of the season.

"Where you thinking of going?" I asked.

"Might as well start at the top. Let's stop in at the Sheraton."

"What? You wanna go to the old folk's home?"

"Sure, it's our best bet if you want to get a taste of the good old days. Plus, the house band really rocks that old James Brown sound."

The lounge at the local Sheraton hotel had a reputation as the last resort of the middle-aged and horny. I still considered myself a young man, so the idea of cruising chicks old enough to be my mother was a bit embarrassing, not to mention depressing. But, what the hell, a beer's a beer and a bar's a bar.

The one really good perk of car sales was the demo. There was no other way that I could be cruising in a brand new sports coupe. The only downsides were the dealer tag and the sales sticker in the rear window. In my mind, they announced to all that I really couldn't afford this car and cemented my status as a lowlife, money-grubbing shyster. But I did love this car. Due to my recent success, I had been given my pick of the demos. Naturally, I chose the baddest unit on the lot - a jet black, drop top coupe that just cried out for speed and open roads. I never heeded those calls.

As we pulled out of the lot, Joe revved it up. Oh, a challenge, I thought. We started to drag from light to light until we arrived at the hotel. When we walked in all my fears were confirmed. The bar was dark, and the band was hopping. The patrons, however, looked like a gathering of my mom's friends from church. This was going to be less than interesting.

We pulled up a couple of stools at the bar and ordered. Joe got a beer. I ordered a screwdriver. I always drank vodka because I thought it gave me a clearer buzz and a lighter hangover. Joe bantered with the bartender about the talent available tonight. The bartender said the business had been slow, but if a woman were still hanging around, she must be good to go.

Then Joe turned to me with an earnest look on his face. "Listen up, man," he started. "All the guys have all the stories and they all have the woman of their wet dreams," Joe stated as if pronouncing his deepest thoughts. "They tell these tales of playmates purloined and pinups petted. But, the truth is that the women in those stories, when they are true at all, are average, bored, drunk women next door. Not the girl next door, but the schoolmarm next door. The young girls are all looking for what you don't got, man. And they are sure to make you pay for the pleasure - money, cars, drugs, mental cruelty. Who needs it, man? That's what my wife is for, know what I'm saying?"

"Great, Joe, now you've managed to ruin my fantasies of these women."

"Boy, playmates and hotties are for your fantasies. But if you prefer the real thing, you'll find it in a fleshy, flushed woman of forty searching for something at the bottom of her bourbon and ginger."

"Is that so?" I deadpanned with all the sarcasm I could muster.

"That is so," he retorted with a dramatic flash of his beer mug and a wink. "Do you remember my test drive story?"

Everyone knew the infamous test drive story complete with high-speed blowjob and the stained upholstery to prove it.

"Well, when I tell that story I usually don't tell all. Everything happened just as I say, but if that bitch was under two hundred fifty pounds then I'm an Olympic speed skater!" Joe busted out all over the bar.

I couldn't help myself. I burst out laughing. Joe started waddling and twisting on his stool like a beached walrus. As he rocked, he moved his fist back and forth in front of his mouth while sticking his tongue in his cheek. The combination of his histrionics and my fifth screwdriver left me unable to stop laughing.

We were brought back down by a giggling voice asking what was so funny. I looked over to see a fortysomething redhead sitting with her well-endowed friend. When I say well-endowed, I mean well-endowed all over. She was huge!

Joe turned to the women and said, "Well, I was just telling my young friend here that, if he wants to change his luck, he has to be ready to go moped riding."

"What does that mean?" the redhead asked with a knowing gleam in her eye.

"Well, you know the best girls are like mopeds - they're fun to ride, but you don't want your friends to see you riding one."

I couldn't believe that Joe had just said that, especially with the redhead's friend sitting right there. In fact, the big girl rolled her eyes and turned to the redhead, "Moira, I gotta go, the sitter's gotta be home soon."

"Don't let this old coot run you outta the bar, Sammy," the redhead replied while cutting a drop-dead look in Joe's direction.

"It ain't that, Moira. Besides, from the looks of him, he's too old to ride the Schwinn down the driveway."

"Alright, babe. Call me tomorrow."

"Yeah, she's right, man. I better drag my old, tired ass home before the Ben-Gay wears off and my joints freeze," Joe said with a smile. "See you in the a.m."

With that both he and the redhead's friend were gone. I was left in an awkward silence as the redhead fiddled with her cigarette pack. Just as I was about ready to settle my tab and make the video store before it closed, the redhead exhaled breathily, then sighed, "I guess that leaves just you and me."

"I guess so," I replied with all the panache of Wally Cleaver.

The redhead turned her head slightly to check out the band as they launched into a blistering version of "I Feel Good." I don't know if it was the music or my frustration breaking like a levee in a fortnight's rain, but I impulsively asked the redhead if she would like to dance.

"Sure, honey, but first I have to go to the ladies' room. I'll be right back. Be a sweetie and refresh my bourbon." She downed the rest of her drink and started off for the restrooms.

I watched her walk across the room. She was about five-two and her weight had settled a bit like a pear. When she was talking to Joe earlier, I had noticed her mouth above all else. Her face had a cutesy, little girl with freckles look, but her lips pouted and puckered in a way that suggested lewd and lascivious longing. I was driven to distraction just by watching her smoke a cigarette. But, now I was casing her body. Like I said, she resembled a pear, but her short skirt framed her big ass wonderfully. And her short-cropped red hair belied a stern determination masking a playful nature.

I ordered her next drink. I was thankful for my draw check. That was another perk of car sales. Since we were only paid on commission once a month, the dealership gave us weekly draw checks of several hundred dollars. Usually, the guys would cash them at lunch on Friday, and they would be gone by Sunday morning. I decided to see where this ride would take me, so I also ordered a couple of shooters.

When she returned, she saw the drinks on the bar. She turned to me and asked if they were for her. I told her that I was in the mood for a couple of buttery nipples, but she was welcome to one if she wanted to add to her collection. She glanced down at her chest and said, "Well, I guess you can never have too many."

We both laughed. After we toasted our new friendship, she asked about that dance.

The band was in the middle of a kicking Earth, Wind & Fire song. We hit the floor. One of the greatest things my grandmother ever did for me was to teach me to dance. Not only could I handle funky dance numbers without revealing myself as terminally white, but I could pull off tangos, waltzes and flamencos. We started to tear it up a little bit. We danced the next several songs and had really begun to break a sweat. We had been spinning and turning in a type of swing groove. In the middle of one of our swings, the band abruptly stopped. The lights went down as they transitioned into a soulful version of Prince's "Purple Rain." Moira and I came together and started a slow grind. The feel of her breasts against my belly gave me an instant hard-on. I began to rub my hands up and down her sides. Slowly I kneaded her skin from her shoulders to her waist over and over again. Her breathing became more rhythmic, and she seemed to melt into my body.

As the song continued, I began to caress her shoulders and neck. She let her head roll backward and sighed. I continued caressing her neck and moved up to her cheeks until I was cradling her head in my hands. We looked at each other. It was one of those moments when a kiss seemed the next natural step. But, instead, I began to curl my hand into her hair and gently pull backward. She surrendered with another sigh. I returned to caressing her upper body until I pushed upward and pulled her arms above her head. She gave a look of uncertainty as I meshed my right hand into the fingers of her hands and held them above her head. With my other hand I pressed her lower back into my body and felt her begin to grind with more intensity. We continued this way throughout the song. I could tell that she was a bit uncomfortable being so publicly suggestive, but her eyes smoldered with an alluring combination of lust and alcohol.

After the song ended, we returned to the bar. She lit a cigarette. Those lips again drove me deep into my dreams. She finished her drink and ordered another. As she sipped on the next bourbon, she told me that the dance had left her dreamy, and she wanted to catch a buzz. When I didn't take her hint, she asked if I wanted to go smoke some weed. I told her that I would love to, but I hadn't had any pot in years. "Well, come on, sweetie, take me home and we'll get high, high, high."

We finished our drinks and settled with the barkeep. She complimented me on my car as we climbed into the coupe. With the push of a button I lowered the windows and the top. Moira sat drinking in the evening air before suddenly turning to face me. This moment would not pass. I leaned into her with my fingertips grazing her bare arms. Our lips met like melting wax with our tongues lightly exploring one another. The kissing continued until we were like teenagers at the drive-in. As I continued to snake my tongue in and out of her mouth, my fingers moved down her arm and began to circle toward her breast. Her breathing resumed the rhythmic pattern I first noticed on the dance floor. Only now there was a low, guttural moan escaping every once in a while. Finally, I remembered that we were in an open car in a crowded parking lot.

"How about some of that smoke now?" I asked, pulling back from our embrace.

"Sure, sweetie," was all she said as she slumped back into the seat with a far off look in her eyes.

We arrived at her house in minutes. She had a little four-room bungalow that was decorated in yard sale chic punctuated by an eclectic assortment of objects from foreign lands. After asking her about some items, she told me that she owned a small travel agency which allowed her the luxury of taking many trips she could not otherwise afford. She made a great show of rolling a joint, including a fantastic simulation of head while wrapping the doobie. We began smoking. When I gave her the joint back, she took a deep puff, exhaling slowly. Then she turned the doobie around with the lit end in her mouth. She leaned over as if to kiss me and began blowing the smoke into my mouth. The feeling was electric.

In the afterglow of the weed, our drunkenness mellowed. We began to discuss far ranging subjects of politics, entertainment and travel. My answers to her fairly pointed questions, especially about politics, were apparently the right ones. She began to move closer on the sofa. She began complaining that the stresses of her work made making friends very hard. She felt that she was the only one who really cared if her clients were well-served, so she rode her employees hard. Being a taskmaster at work left her feeling that she had to be in control in all her relationships. She didn't feel that she could just relax with anyone without controlling the situation.

At that point, "In the Midnight Hour" came on the stereo. I rose to my feet and beckoned her to dance again. We melted into each other with intermittent bouts of tongue swapping and groping. When the song ended we moved to the kitchen to refill our drinks. As we stood breaking ice into the bucket, I moved behind her and told her that she just needed to relax and not think about the situation. Just let her feelings flow. "You just need to let the other person know that you like having him here, that you don't mind."

"That's what I need - some minding," she exhaled into my neck.

"First, Moira, you need to learn to mind," I replied, pulling her head back by her hair again.

In my many nights of loneliness, I had read many stories and seen many videos about girls taken and controlled. I didn't know how far she would go with this game, but I decided to take it as far as I could, even if that meant being tossed out on my ass by this little lady.

When she didn't recoil from my touch or my comment, I continued with our kissing. I held her head tight, not allowing her and freedom of movement. Her rhythmic breathing returned and the moans came every time I tightened my grip in her hair. At this point I began to lead her toward her bedroom. I probed her mouth deeply as she stood with her back to the bed, still held firmly by my hand in her hair. I pulled her down to the bed. She collapsed on her back with her breathing even more pronounced.

Deciding to act quickly, I slipped my hands under her skirt and pulled her panties off in a sudden motion. She looked up at me with some hesitation in her eyes until I caressed her face with my hand. She moaned and sighed with her head back and her mouth open. I slipped my middle finger into her mouth. She grunted and began to suck on my finger just like she sucked on her cigarettes. While she sucked, I dove into her pussy with my tongue. She began to undulate on the bed, but she never lost suction on my finger. I began exploring her mouth further, adding a finger one by one until all four were in her mouth. She really began to thrust on my face as I fucked the four fingers into her mouth. I pushed them in until I felt the back of her throat. When they were all the way in I began to stretch them apart and fuck her mouth faster and faster. She gasped and pulled her face away.

With her already turning to the side, I abruptly flipped her over onto her belly. Her ass rose up high. I spread her cheeks with my hands and attacked her clit again. She lay with her face flush against the mattress as I licked her hole. I stuffed three fingers straight into her pussy and fucked her hard. When I leaned down and stuck my tongue in her ass, she drew away sharply and turned to stare at me. I brought my fingers from her pussy and stuck them in her mouth. As she began to suck her juices from my fingers I said, "Moira, you must learn to mind."

I pulled her ass back up and slapped her hard. "Please, no, don't do that," she whimpered. But it was no use. I licked her pussy until she was writhing again and brought the flat of my hand down hard on her ass. Her hands came back to protest, but I held them firmly against her lower back with one hand and smacked her ass again with the other. Her big ass was starting to glow pink, and her breathing was more labored than before. I let her hands fall to her sides and resumed fingerfucking her hard while spanking her every so often. She reached her first orgasm as my palm slapped her clit while my fingers fucked her pussy.

Letting her come down from her climax, I flipped her over and began to suck her breasts. They were beautiful, little B-cups with puffy nipples standing up for some attention. I sucked one then the other fully into my mouth. With her nipple fully in my mouth, I would pull back until her breast was stretched out from her chest. I resumed kissing her while kneading her breasts and pinching her nipples. Between kisses she moaned, "I do need minding." With that I slapped her breast hard. She yelped and strained her mouth up to mine.

I rolled over on my back so that she was on top of me. As we continued to kiss I brought one finger up to her mouth and added it to my tongue. She was breathing wantonly and squeezing my shoulders. Again, I began to spank her ass hard. She brought her pussy down hard onto my thigh and began grinding. With my fingers back in her mouth and her clit rubbing up and down my leg, I began to spank her in earnest, concentrating on one cheek. She started biting my fingers and making noises of mixed cries, moans and curses. Her ass must have been on fire when she finally screamed out and collapsed on my chest.

I let her relax for a moment and flipped her onto her back. I rubbed her clit gently until her moaning returned. I led one of her hands down to her pussy and guided it across her clit. She took the hint and began to play with herself. I forced my fingers back into her pussy until it was more like a pussy spanking than a fingerfuck. I pulled my fingers out and began to ask her if she wanted to come again. She became flustered and shot me a cold look, saying only, "Put your fingers back in me." I pretended not to hear what she said and rubbed her belly. "Please put your fingers back in me," she screamed. So I took my fingers and shoved them back into her mouth. I facefucked her with my fingers until she came all over her hand.

At that point I needed some relief, so I rose above her and straddled her chest. I held her arms at her sides and told her to play with herself. She began rubbing her slit again as I slid my cock over her breasts. I would slowly rub it over her nipples then up to her cheeks. She looked up at me in lust as some spittle dripped out of the corner of her mouth. Yet again I filled her mouth with my fingers. She sucked hard and closed her eyes. I pulled up higher and ran my cock along my palm until it joined my fingers in her mouth. Her mouth was stretched wider than I thought possible as I kept two fingers in and pistoned my cock in and out.




Moira Learns To Mind



She started to groan again as her fingers flicked her clit. Just when I thought she was reaching another orgasm I pulled my fingers out and began to fuck her face forcefully. She was pinned under my weight with her arms wedged at her sides. I've always been struck by how a young girl somehow looks older with a cock in her mouth, but this older lady took on a youthful, angelic look as my cock slid deeper and deeper, faster and faster into her mouth. 


I pulled my cock out of her mouth and began rubbing it all over her cheeks and forehead. "Do you want me to come, Moira?" I asked in a barely audible whisper. She looked up and nodded her head slightly. With that I began to jack myself off in her mouth as she moaned even louder. Finally, I pulled back slightly and covered her cheeks and mouth with my cum.

She didn't pull away, nor did she begin to lick at my cock or the cum on her face. Instead she just lay there gazing into my eyes in a wide wonder. I leaned down and cradled her face. We smiled at each other as I slowly rubbed my cum into her skin. I fell behind her and cuddled her while continuing to caress her cum-soaked face. I must admit that I was hoping to continue our play until I was hard again and could fuck her. But, as we cuddled, I heard her breathing change and realized that she had fallen to sleep. I decided to let her rest.

I've never been able to sleep well away from home, and tonight was no different, especially with this woman sleeping by my side with my dried cum on her face. After about an hour, she was sleeping in my arms with her knees up toward her chest. I began to feather my fingers across her upper thighs and slowly farther into the folds of her pussy. She was incredibly wet, and her pussy made sloppy, slurping sounds around my fingers. Although I couldn't really believe it, she seemed to be deep in sleep as I began to fingerfuck her again. Her only movements were to drop her mouth into a wide open pant and to thrust ever so slightly against my fingers. I slipped my middle finger out of her pussy and lightly circled her ass. Sensing no resistance, I slowly pressed into her butt until my finger disappeared to the second knuckle. I continued to finger her in both holes when she suddenly tensed, then relaxed, with one of her legs resting even higher toward her chest.

I don't know when, or even if, I made the conscious decision to fuck her ass, but I slowly raised by hips toward her and pushed my cock into her ass. When my head passed her sphincter, her eyes opened to small slits and she murmured, "Unh-unh." But I was beyond returning now and began to push more and more cock into her ass. I felt her ass, then her whole body, relax when my cock was all the way in. As I pulled back to start fucking her, she reached her arm back over my shoulder and held the back of my head. That was all the encouragement I needed. I started to thrust hard into her ass. I shifted over until I straddled her thighs and began to pound my cock up her ass. She started to moan again. She finally could not refrain any longer. She began to buck back up against my cock and let out the full guttural moans she hinted at earlier. Her head thrashed from side to side, and she screamed, "Butt-fuck me! Butt-fuck me!"

Her screams and the sight of her full, round ass taking every inch of my cock was too much for me. I began to fuck her ass relentlessly until I felt my cum rising through my cock. At the last moment, I pulled out of her ass and slid my thighs up past her hips. I reached into her hair and yanked her head to the side. As those lips pouted at me, I once again erupted all over her cheek and mouth. This time I did not wait for her reaction. I forced my cock into her mouth as she began to suck it deeper and deeper. I slowed my thrusts until my cock softened, and I rubbed the flaccid head across her lips. Again she did not say anything as I held her and she drifted back to sleep.

I was able to sleep then, awakened only by the morning's light entering the room. As I moved to get up (I had to be at work in an hour!), she rolled onto her back. She looked up at me and, smiling mischievously, said, "I hope you know that I didn't mind your being here."

"I think you'll learn not to mind a lot of things, Moira."