6 comments/  36528 views/  6 favorites

Open Wide

By: BlueEyed5ftAngel



Pat felt the anxiety growing in his gut as he walked slowly along the low lit corridor, leading to suite 315. He was trying to prolong his arrival as long as possible.

At the sweet age of thirty three, he was still apprehensive about dental appointments.

Creeping along he thought he smelled the all too familiar scent of alcohol and antiseptics. Looking up, sure enough, the bold numbers 3 1 5 were displayed in large tiles on the door. 

Pat reached for the handle as his hand shook uncontrollably. He laughed inside at what his buddies would think of him if they could see him now, trembling at the thought of sitting in a hard, cold dental chair with his mouth gaping wide open, at the mercy of some fanatical dentist. 

Pat's mind always went wild during his dental appointments, why should today be any different?

Gripping the door handle, taking a last deep breathe, Pat slowly pushed his way inside.

"Hello there," sounded angelically beyond the frosted window at the counter.

"Was that a recording, triggered to go off when the door opens?" Pat thought with an audible laugh as he walked to the counter to check-in.

"I hope you're not laughing at me." The cute little assistant said softly, rising to her feet.

A big smile flushed over Pat's face as he answered, "Oh no...not at you. Your hello there sounded like a recording was all."

Pat couldn't believe he just said that.

"Oh, it's all right. You're not the first patient to say that." She offered with a giggle. "It's 3 o'clock. You must be Patrick Gibbons."

"Yep. Sure am." Pat answered as his eyes surveyed the girl's small frame while she gathered papers together, affixing them to a clipboard. "Got a name?" he asked as she handed him the board.

"It's Sydney," she answered with a blush, brushing her long blonde hair back over her left shoulder.

"Pretty name." Pat smiled, taking the paperwork and turning to find a seat.

"If you'd just fill those out completely and bring them back to me when you are finished, I'll bring you in then," she said with a wink.

Pat's mind was wandering as he tried to concentrate on the questions he was supposed to answer. He could hear Sydney's voice as she answered the telephone. She sounded like an angel. Pat knew he would be in good hands today! 

When Sydney finished her telephone conversation she rose from her desk and walked out of view. Pat was hurriedly answering the questions, scribbling his responses. He was so intent he hadn't noticed the door had opened and Sydney was standing beside him. 

"All finished?" Her voice sounded.

Pat jumped with a start as his face flushed.

"It's all right Patrick. Trust me. I'll take good care of you. I promise." She added taking the clipboard from him.

"You can call me Pat if you want, all my friends do." Pat said, standing up.

"If you wish." Sydney answered. "Want to follow me?" She added, leading the way through the waiting room, into the office and into the first operatory.

"Nice office." Pat commented for lack of something better to say.

He was watching her cute little ass swaying from side to side as she walked but he certainly didn't want to comment on that!

Sydney stopped in the doorway of the examining room, motioning for Pat to come inside.

As Pat walked in, he brushed against Sydney's ample breast. A lone tingle raced through his body as his thoughts went wild. 

Suddenly he envisioned this little angel, topless, working over him. Those big, beautiful breasts were waving across his chest as she placed those little cardboards in his mouth to take x-rays of his teeth. Her nipples were dark and full and erect. He felt the strain in his groin as his member began to swell with excitement.

"Go ahead and have a seat," Sydney said, startling him from his thoughts.

Pat sat down in the chair as she lowered the arm, confining him in place.

Smiling, Sydney walked to the counter to get a bib. She looked back over her should to see Pat adjusting in the chair. Her mind was also reeling. 

Pat was a handsome guy with a bald head and a neatly trimmed goatee. He was dressed casually in a sports team t-shirt and blue jeans. It was the bulge in his jeans that caught Sydney's attention when he took his seat.

With a clipped bib in hand she came around to the side of the chair. Draping the paper across Pat's chest she fastened the far end with the clip.

"There you go," she said sweetly, stepping back to observe her handiwork.

"Thanks," Pat said lowering his hands to his lap, trying to cover the growing bulge in his groin.

"The Doctor should be here in a minute to have a look, then I'll be back to take some x-rays." Sydney said as she left the room.

Pat sat in silent agony. His mind was racing. His groin was aching. His hands were sweating as he closed his eyes. Images of Sydney, naked and wanton flooded his thoughts as he settled into the comfortable darkness of the contoured chair.

"Good afternoon Mr. Gibbons," came a sultry voice from beside him.

"Am I dreaming?" Pat thought as he tried to open his eyes.

Suddenly, a soft hand was pressing gently into his right shoulder. 

"Relax, Mr. Gibbons. I won't bite you. You can open your eyes."

Pat opened his eyes to find Sydney perched on a stool beside him.

"You're the Dentist too?" he asked confused.

"Well, my practice is fairly new and I can't afford office help yet," she answered with a blush. "This isn't a problem is it?"

"Not at all," Pat answered with a smile.

His thoughts were really racing now. He had Sydney all to himself!

"Well then. Open wide and give me a look here." She ordered softly, bringing her delicate hands to his face.

Sydney leaned into Pat as she peered into his open mouth. He could feel her left breast lodged against his right shoulder. Consciously he adjusted in his seat, trying to get a better feel.

"That doesn't hurt, does it?" She asked, pulling back, removing her explorer and mirror from his mouth for him to answer.

"Not at all, Doc." 

Sydney resumed her position, nestling her breast into Pat's shoulder.

A low groan escaped his mouth as his groin began to pulse.

"You have beautiful teeth Patrick," Sydney complimented, withdrawing her instruments from his mouth. Pushing her stool back she added. "I would like to give you a good cleaning though."

Pat wanted to scream, "yes"... He wanted to feel her body close to his. At this point he didn't care what she did to him!

"Sure, Doc. Go right ahead." Pat answered, looking over to her, seeing her face turn a bright red as he said the word 'ahead'. 

"Hmmmm.. What could she be thinking?" Pat thought. He knew he was certainly attracted to her.

Sydney stood and sauntered to the back counter to get instruments while Pat watched her every move. She walked so gracefully, her hem rising up those shapely legs with every step. 

"Do you have a sensitive mouth Patrick?" Sydney asked in that sultry voice.

Pat was squirming in his seat. He'd love to show her how sensitive his mouth is!

"Why do you ask?" blurted from his lips.

"I just need to know how firm of a touch I need to use," she answered professionally.

"I can take anything you want to give me, Doc," Pat answered without thinking.

"Is that right?"

Sydney was returning with a tray of instruments in her hands. Her dress looked as though another button had come unfastened, exposing even more of her voluptuous cleavage.

She sat down on her stool. To Pat's surprise she spread her legs wide open, rolling her stool closer to him, coming to straddle his chair.

Pat gulped, trying to contain his excitement and the urge to stare at her open thighs.

"Open wide for me Patrick... "

Pat closed his eyes and opened his mouth, anticipating the feel of cold steel against his teeth; instead he felt a warm hand moving gently up his leg! He dared not open his eyes... 

Nimble fingers were soon unzipping his fly as he jerked in his seat.

"Relax Patrick... relax...."

His mind was reeling. This was his lucky day!

A coldness washed over him as his cock was released from his jeans. 

"Oh Sydney..." he gasped as a warm mouth engulfed his swollen tool.

Suddenly he felt weight across his extended legs. Sydney was draped over his legs, pinning him to the chair. He felt her heaving breasts crushing into his quivering thighs. She was nursing on his rod, grinding her melons between his legs...

"Mmmmm," she moaned with her mouth full of man meat. 

Her sweet vibrating hum was driving poor Pat crazy as he struggled beneath her weight, trying to get into a more manageable position.

"Oh Sydney," Pat moaned as she deep-throated his swollen tool. 

Sydney was sucking and licking as if there would be no tomorrow... her talented fingers were wrapped around Pat's throbbing shaft, working up and down as his rod was being drawn in and out of her warm, moist mouth.

"Oh baby... I'm about ready to explode," Pat groaned as she continued to work her magic. 

Pulling away from his groin Sydney whispered, "Cum for me baby. I know you're ready."

Without hesitation Pat exploded inside Sydney's smacking lips. She swallowed and sucked like a real Pro.

Spent and totally drained, Pat melded into the chair.

With a smile on her face, Sydney carefully tucked Pat's spent, member back into his jeans, rolled off him and primped before settling back onto her stool.

"I believe you are ready for your cleaning now Mr. Gibbons. Open Wide." 

Open Wide



WARNING:

The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any further! 

This story is for entertainment only. It contains adult oriented material. This is a work of fiction. The acts and characters contained within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact. I do not practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here. The characters in the story are entirely fictional. You need to believe that all of the characters are over the age of eighteen.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached.

* * * * * * * * * * 

A Harvey Marcus Retrospective: Open Wide and Say "Ahhhh"

In a sudden delusion caused by two simultaneous synapses shorting each other out, I thought, "Gee, wouldn't it be keen to tell the story of how I, Harvey Marcus, got started with all of this screwing around. I mean, it didn't just happen out of nothing. Everything has a cause, a spark, an ignition. So, here's another Official Retrospective, detailing how I involuntarily got sucked into a campaign of accidental sex with all of the world's eighteen-year and older females.

Episodes One and Two found me seduced by two different babysitters. Episode Four partnered me with a coworker. This jumps back to my Third Episode. Sorry for the temporal dysfunction, but sometimes a story grabs me by the scrotum, and sometimes not. 

I won't try to pre-tell the story, except to say it doesn't involve a dentist. You'll just to have to scroll down and keep reading.

* * * * * * * * * *

Twice a year, my wife Harriett sees her gynecologist. It's the closest thing we have to a sex life: someone sees her naked pussy and I pay the bill. She doesn't say a word about it, and I figure no news is good news. Although, if she had a sexually transmitted disease, I was safe anyway. This time, after her visit to Good Doctor Everhardt showed up in the online recap of recent charges, she had something to say. "Harvey, Dr. Everhardt prescribed some crème for my, uh, privates."

Too bad it wasn't the spermy creme from my cock. "Is there something wrong?"

"I don't think so. He detected the beginning of a rash. He ran out of free samples when I was at his office, but his receptionist called and said they'd just received some. Doesn't it make sense to try it before buying it?"

That was the mistake I'd made. Harriett and I had deferred sex until after we were married. She insisted. Only after we tied the knot did I find out how disinterested she was. 

"So, on the way home tomorrow, could you stop by his office and pick up the sample?"

Now, Dr. Everhardt's office is hardly on the way. It's at least ten or so miles west of my normal route, and then another ten back. "Why can't you do it?" It was a fair question.

Harriett put her hands on her hips." I have a volunteers meeting for the local refuse committee."

I was going to quip, "Oh, that garbage?" but that would get her angry, and we'd have another fight. I was smart enough to pick my fights, and this wasn't worth it. Her errand was just something else to get between the end of my workday and a home-cooked meal. With her meeting, reheated sounded certain. And when Harriett cooked anything at all, ordering out was forbidden. "Sure. What's the address?"

Harriett gave me Dr. Everhardt's card with all of the relevant details.

So the next day after work, I redirected myself to the doctor's office. I thought about Harriett's rash and the creme. Lord knows, she won't let me apply the stuff. Not even my finger can get close to her pussy. God, celibacy is hell. My thoughts turned to the two babysitters who it had been my privilege to fuck. Oh yes, and the second one's mother. But that had been months ago, and my growing stash of Penthouse Forum magazines and the occasional British tabloid Mayfair had been inadequate substitutes for the real thing. I'd even concocted fantasies about some of the women at work, intimate affairs that would never come to pass. The fastest way to getting fired is screwing around with co-workers.

I parked easily, since the Medical building was closing up for the night. Any reasonable people, doctors and patients, had gone home. As I opened the door, a young woman scurried past. A hint of whites beneath her coat made me believe she was a nurse or something. The waiting room of Dr. Everhardt's office was empty. Just as I tapped the little silver bell on the counter, a tall man in a lab coat escorted a dumpy middle-aged female from the back. "See you in six months," said the handsome gent. Dr. Everhardt, I presumed. Curly dark hair, square jaw, classic roman nose. Could have been a movie star. Probably popular with his female patients. My mind leapt to a projected fantasy, Dr. Everhardt standing between some patient's spread thighs, a warm, inviting vagina staring him straight in the face. What will power he must have to deal with temptations of the flesh.

Doc looked at me. Odd to see a man in his office. I was about to tell him who I was and why I was there when the door swung open. A tall woman strode in on spike heels, a thin beige coat over a plain black dress. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic was a bitch!" She was extremely tan, too dark to be natural. A tanning salon was a sure bet. Her current condition, older, more wrinkles, couldn't hide her previous youthful beauty. She was still in good shape, although her hips had spread and her ass was a bit too full. Too many different blonde streaks in her brunette hair, pulled back into a bun. 

Doc turned his attention from me to the new arrival. "You are?"

"Ruth Needham-Cohen. I'm your six o clock."

Her hips were on automatic, jutting this way, then that. She may have parked her car, but her engine was running, that was for sure.

Doc looked down at a bound paper calendar on the receptionist's desk. "We're going to have to reschedule. My nurse is gone and I-"

"That's okay, I trust you."

I stood there, out of the loop. Harriett's sample was in a small white bag next to the appointment calendar. I couldn't just take it and leave. "Excuse me, I just need to pick up-"

"Shaddup!' Needham-Cohen shouted. "I have an appointment. Obviously, you don't." She turned to the doctor. "Which examination room are we going to use?"

"I'm very glad I have your trust, but there are laws," said Doc. "A nurse must be present for examinations. You understand, a male doctor alone with a female patient. It's for your protection."

"But I don't need protection." Her voice had more of an edge, like a parent trying not to scold a child while scolding a child. Her hands were fists. Her bouncy happy demeanor had become hostile, like a child not getting her way. She must really need someone to check out her "privates", as Harriett would say. I decided to leave before she got angry and took it out on me. The scorn of Harriett would be easier to accept than the wrath of this stranger. She was clearly hostile and dangerous, despite experiencing her for only a few minutes. I headed for the door.

"One moment, please," said the doctor. I stopped in my tracks. "As I said, for your protection and to obey state laws, there must be someone present."

"Someone, hmm?" Needham-Cohen looked at me. "Wait a second. Can it be anybody? Like him?"

She didn't have to point. I was the only "him" in the vicinity. "Huh?"

"That would be quite unusual. Normally, it's one of my nurses-"

"But he'll do, right? As a witness?" Needham-Cohen's smile returned.

"If you insist, this gentleman could be in the room, if he doesn't mind-"

Up to now, my services as a voyeur hadn't been cleared with me. The idea of seeing this woman getting examined while naked was quite titillating. And, I'd get to witness Dr. Everhardt's style, how he handled his patients. But I didn't belong there, I still had to drive home, my stomach was past ready for dinner, even a reheat of one of Harriett's creations. "Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. My name is Marcus, and you have a sample for my wife."

Doc handed me the small white bag and smiled, his teeth gleaming white. "Send her my regards."

Needham-Cohen took off her coat, waddled over, hips swaying, and grabbed my shoulder. She kept her voice low while Doc disappeared down the hall towards what I presumed were exam rooms and his office. "I bribed the nurse to go home sick so I could be alone with the doctor. Now it's all screwed up, unless you cooperate."

I looked at the empty corridor. Doc was certainly a desirable catch. "I'm sure you can find another way. Ask him out for a drink?"

"Don't be an idiot. I'm here to get laid, not exchange pleasantries over Chablis. I made a bet with the women in my book club that I could get laid in my gynecologist's office. Big money is riding on this, and I'm not about to lose. So you'll stay, or else."

The threat was vague, which made it questionable and compelling at the same time. What could she do to me?

The crow's feet around her eyes tightened. "I'm going to undress and seduce the doctor. You just observe and don't say a word. Got it?"

Needham-Cohen was a determined and hard woman. The doctor deserved better, but who was I to pass up the chance to see someone else have sex? At least this time, I'd be an observer, not a participant, unlike my sexual encounters with the two babysitters. And one mother.

She flounced over to the counter and smashed the bell. Dr. Everhardt came out. "Are you still here? As I said, I have to close the office."

"He's agreed to observe." Ruth bent over and moaned. "Please, doctor, it hurts so bad. Please." Her dress, a plain black number with scoop neckline, stretched taut across her ass. She wore a thong, the thin lines of which were clear beneath the tight garment.

"And you're willing to have this stranger observe?" he asked.

"Yes, anyone, the pain is too bad."

"Is it true? You agree to this - this - procedure?"

I nodded.

"Very well." Everhardt led us back to a dimly lit examination room. He pointed. "You can undress behind the screen. There are fresh gowns-"

Ruth had already started to disrobe, reaching behind to unzip the dress. "Give me a hand," she asked me.

The doctor was shocked but turned away to gather his instruments and stuff on a stainless steel tray. "All right. The quicker we get prepared, the quicker we can all go home."

I assisted with the zipper. Doc didn't know that she would be demanding a home run before anybody left. Was I really going to see Harriet's gynecologist fuck this woman? The black dress fell to the floor, leaving Ruth in bra and thong. There were hints of cellulite in her thighs, but she was in very good shape for a woman of her age. Much better than Harriett, although I hadn't seen Harriett naked in a very long time.

Ruth removed her bra. Her breasts sagged a bit, milky, although she certainly wasn't nursing an infant at her age. Her skin was dark except for light patches on her breasts and across her lower stomach, where she'd worn a minimal bikini in the tanning bed. 

She practically jumped up onto the examination table, startling Dr. Everhardt. I stood by, on the side, watching with eager anticipation. This was going to be better than any X-rated VHS tape I'd ever purchased, except for the bootleg of an underage Traci Lords. While undressing, Ruth had not exhibited any symptoms of pain. Once on the table, Ruth's hand caressed her belly, and then slid down to her pussy. "Doctor, what's wrong with me? I feel so empty." She lifted her legs and slipped the thong off, tossing it behind her on the floor.

Dr. Everhardt guided her legs into a pair of stirrups. Ruth assisted by spreading her fleshy labia. "I'm so empty, and I need to be full-filled. Please, can you help me?"

Everhardt leaned forward to examine her labia and vagina. When he did, Ruth grabbed his lab coat and pulled him forward. Her other hand reached for his crotch.

"What's wrong with you?" Everhardt tried to back off but Ruth had a tight grip. She used her other hand to grab his belt, then went after his zipper. In short order, she'd extracted his penis from his underwear. It stuck out from the opening, small and limp.

Still holding his belt, Ruth's other hand massaged his cock. "Come on, Doc, you must think about sex sometimes, with some of your patients. Have any of them every offered themselves to you? And have any been so willing?"

Everhardt's cock remained flaccid and small. Ruth's best efforts were having no effect. Doctor Handsome was either impotent or gay. It didn't matter to me which.

Everhardt broke free of Ruth's grasp. "Madam, I am a professional. I never violate the principles of medicine-"

"Shut up." Ruth was breathing hard, fingering herself. "I need to be fucked, right now, or I'm fifty thousand dollars poorer. Do you hear me?"

The doctor put his cock back in his pants and zipped up. "I'm afraid I won't participate in some blackmail scheme-"

"It's a fucking bet, you idiot!" Ruth's hips were lifting with each thrust of her finger into her pussy. She caught my gaze. "You, over there."

"Me?" Didn't she remember that I was there at her insistence, only as an observer?

"Yes, you. Do you like women?"

"Yeah, I sure." Especially naked ones who masturbate in front of me.

"Come closer. Check me out. I won't bite."

I didn't believe her, and I wasn't up to date on my tetanus shots. Moving closer, I could hear the wet sound of finger in pussy. From a distance, I'd seen the motion, but now her vagina was in high def.

"Can you get it up?" she asked.

I stood in stunned silence.

"Are you deaf? I asked, can you manage an erection?"

I nodded. I was already somewhat inflated, in anticipation of their coupling.

"Well then, come on. Let me see."

I didn't have to drop my pants. I was under no obligation. But Ruth had just failed with the good doctor, and I knew how it felt to want sex and not get it. I unbuckled my belt, unlatched and unzipped. My pants dropped from the weight of wallet and keys in the pockets. My erection was evident in my jockey shorts.

"Oh shit! Come here, stud. What's your name again?"

I approached the exam table. "Marcus. Harvey Marcus."

"Show me your cock, Harvey Marcus."

I slid down my jockeys. My erection was mostly complete. A bit of anxiety and embarrassment kept me from full extension.

She stared at my crotch. "You may be a Marcus but you're carrying quite a Johnson. You will fuck me, won't you? Let me take back the question. Watch this, doc, let a real man show you how to please a woman." 

I froze in place. Was I really going to fuck a complete stranger, just because she asked?

"I've got a big surprise, something no other woman has ever done to you. Come closer and let me show you my special skill. I've been working on it for months, just for the doctor. Put your finger here." She pointed to her vaginal lips.

I leaned forward and ran my index finger vertically. "Like this?"

"I won't bite. Stick it in, all the way."

I switched to my middle finger. Why they call it the fuck finger I'll never know. Her pussy was moist and loose. I could have used two or three fingers. My knuckles rubbed her labia. "Okay?"

Ruth tightened her vaginal muscles. "Feel that? Can you move your finger?"

Barely. It was essentially trapped in her cunt. "That's really tight."

She released the pressure. Shit, what that would have felt like around my dick.

"Go on, touch my pussy with your big dick. What's the matter? You're not a virgin are you, not with a salami like that? Don't let me cool down here." She sat up, grabbed for my dick, which was just beyond her reach. "It'll feel nicer with your prick inside. Now!"

My stomach was grinding, and not just due to lack of dinner. Maybe it was 'command performance' aspect that caused my cock to shrink a bit. Maybe because this was a stranger. Maybe my dick didn't like being second choice.

"You're losing it, honey, and so will I if you don't perform." She rubbed her belly. "Step closer and slap your cock against my pussy. You don't have to put it in. Just thrash me, like I'm a bad girl."

I figured she was, bad that is. I advanced and thumped my cock against her wet crotch. After a dozen or so slaps, my cock had hardened.

"Good," she said. "Now, touch my pussy with your cock. Feel how wet I am."

There had to be a limit, or I'd be fucking a total stranger. Yes, I'd had my way with two babysitters and the mother of the second one, but sexual intimacy with someone I'd just met? Was I so horny from lack of Harriett's interest that I'd screw anybody? "I can't."

Ruth's voice got stern. "You have to, or I'm $50,000 poorer, and I can't afford that. If you don't fuck me right now, I'll - I'll - I'll tell everyone Dr. Everhardt raped me."

Up to now, the good doctor had his back to us, cowering at the way his examination room had become an instant brothel. He gasped. "You wouldn't! I can't-"

"You'd rather come out of the closet to refute my allegation?" asked Ruth.

"No." It was a whimper. The not-so-hung doc hung his head. "You win."

"What?" I was shocked by the doctor's words. "Wait a second. Isn't this my decision?"

"You'll have to do what she says, or she'll destroy my practice. I have too much at stake."

In retrospect, this was my first encounter with blackmailed sex. "Fuck (fill in the blank) or I'll (threat)." The two babysitters hadn't threatened me, They'd just put me a position where putting my cock in position was inevitable. 

This time it was coercion, two against one. I put my one cock between Ruth's two vaginal lips and rubbed the head of my prick against her moist labia in a circular pattern. "Like this?"

Ruth leaned back and moaned. "Oh, yes!"

I moved cautiously, an inch at a time. Ruth shook with my advance. I expected her cunt to clamp down any second, but it didn't. I stopped at half depth and held my position. That's when she clamped down. I couldn't move. No in-and-out. No feeling at all except the pulse of blood throbbing in the walls of her vagina.

Leaning forward, I pressed the sides of her breasts together and kissed her nipples, then sucked them, alternating. Her cunt loosened. I used the opportunity to slide out a bit. Her pussy gripped my dick. I flicked the tip of my tongue against an engorging nipple. Her muscles relaxed, allowing me to jab forward. Every suckle softened her for probing. I timed my mouth and my hips so that I could get a fucking rhythm going. Maybe making her cunt into a vice was pleasant for her. All it did was keep me hard. Oh, and I was hard, and anxious to ream her out. All I had to do was pay attention to her tits and I could fuck her real good.

Drool dripped from the corner of her mouth. I withdrew and gave her half my length again. And again. Her thighs tightened and loosened, her feet flailed behind me, punching my back. Her hips lifted from the table with each thrust. God, she was an active sex partner, nothing like Harriett. And nothing was the sex Harriett offered. I punched up my enthusiasm, with short strokes and longer strokes. Her hands grasped for my waist, my shoulders. I attempted to kiss her but she jerked her head to the side, avoiding my lips. "We're fucking here, not making love."

And that was the difference.

So if we were fucking, didn't she deserve the whole burrito? On my next thrust, I didn't hold back, driving balls deep into her.

"Gooodddddd! Sooo deeeep! Don't stop, don't you dare."

Her wish was my command. My hips jerked and twitched. I wasn't planning anything, just letting my cock guide me. And it was going crazy, reaming her. The head tickled, and I knew what was immanent, "I'm going to cum."




Open Wide



"Of course you are. Hot and sticky. On my belly."

I pulled out just as the first ribbon of cum spurted from my dick. And a second. Ruth scooped up the sticky goop in a small vial she pulled from nowhere and capped the top. "Proof that I scored. A few of my club members are outside, waiting. Won't they be surprised?"

I started to back off, my duty done, Dr. Everhardt's practice saved, my cock pleasantly exercised, and Ruth $50,000 richer.

"Oh no you don't! We're not done here. And when you cum again, don't stop pumping. Feel how slick it makes us."

Why did she think I had more to give? I'd just shot my wad. I reinserted as my dick softened. But her talented clamping cunt brought my dick back to firm in just a few well-timed squeezes. And soon we were fucking, Ruth's pussy providing just the right amount of friction. Despite my recent ejaculation, I was preparing a second delivery. And just as she'd instructed, I let loose while inside. After a hard thrust to push my prick juice deep inside, I kept on humping, my cum lubricating the path. And son of a bitch, I spurted again, which was completely abnormal. She'd emptied my balls with her skills. I was exhausted and hungry. I fell on top of her, my head along side hers, but facing away. I didn't want her to think I was trying to steal a kiss. My stomach growled. 

Ruth laughed. "So you're married?"

"Yes."

"And what religion?"

"Jewish."

"Just my luck to find a Jewish guy with a big schmeckl and he's married." She lifted her legs out of the stirrups. "Give me your number, so we can have a repeat."

On one of Everhardt's cards, I wrote the phone number of my high school, which I'd memorized decades earlier. "So, what are you going to tell your girlfriends?" I asked.

"The bet was to get laid in the gynecologist's office. And I did, didn't I?" She wiggled the small vial of cum.

That was a cheat, but then I didn't have any money riding on the outcome. And I'd cheated too. Again. With a relative stranger. I resolved that this was as far as I would allow myself to stray. Maybe at some other time, I'd have sex with a woman other than Harriett. Relative stranger, hmmm? Maybe sex with another woman but definitely not with any relatives. That had to be a firm boundary.

###

An Original H M Tale 

I'm always interested in reader feedback. Do you like these Retrospectives? Tell me what you think via email.

Copyright (c) 2010, HarveyMarcus. All Rights Reserved. 



Open Wide



"Turn your head slightly to the right," she told me.

I turned and my face bumped up against her left breast.

"Oops, don't you bite that now," she said.

"I wouldn't do that," I replied.

"You better not 'cause you'd make a hole and I'd fly backward around the office like a balloon until it deflated," She laughed.

"I don't know . . . they look pretty real to me," I ventured, hoping me might continue in the vein.

"Why, thank you, Bob," she said and leaned further over so that my face was engulfed between her breasts. "They don't feel phony either, do they?"

"No. They sure don't," I muttered, still pinned against her chest with her hard left nipple jabbing me in the cheek. Actually, they did feel a little too firm for their size.

This was pretty typical of all the appointments we'd had since Nicole became my oral hygienist the year before. She was a sensuous, earthy woman and regularly joked with me about sexual things while peppering her conversation with double entendre.

"Yep," she said, "they're just about as real as silicone can make them." and chuckled in her low throaty way.

She pulled away and went back to work on my mouth, scraping and digging away while she hummed Somewhere Over The Rainbow.

I recalled my last appointment a few months ago; when Nicole had told me that she needed to do some heavy cleaning on my remaining wisdom teeth and asked if I could hold my mouth open wide while she did that or whether I needed a rubber wedge. I told that I was fine and could hold my mouth open okay. 

"How wide can you open?" she had asked.

"Pretty wide"

"Show me" she instructed.

I opened as much as I could.

"Wow! That's really wide. Does it hurt?"

"Not a bit," I didn't tell her that, as a kid, I used to win a lot of pocket money by betting I could pop a tennis ball into my mouth.

"Do you mind if I measure?" she asked and removed some sort of device from a nearby drawer.

"No, go ahead" I was kind of proud she was so impressed.

"That's amazing," she said after she'd measured. "In all my work, I've never had another patient that could open that wide"

I didn't know whether to say "Thank you" or what; so I didn't say anything.

"You know, with that gift, there are a lot of gay guys around the neighborhood who'd love to have you for a boyfriend," she said, smiling and squeezing my arm.

"I don't swing that way," I told her with a halfhearted laugh.

"Well, I wouldn't rule it out," she replied. "As Woody Allen said, 'it doubles your chances of scoring.'"

I remember wondering then if maybe she swung both ways.

The phone on the opposite wall buzzed and brought me back to the present. Nicole excused herself and answered the call.

Her distraction gave me a chance to admire her for a couple of minutes. She was a gorgeous gal, tall, probably 5' 10" or so, black shoulder length hair that hung straight and framed her attractive face, deep set brown eyes and high cheekbones that probably came from some Indian or Mexican influence in her bloodline. That heredity probably also contributed to her tan complexion which highlighted her porcelain white teeth. Her mouth was wide with dark red full lips and an expression that always seemed right on the verge of a smile . . . a smile that seemed to suggest that she was considering some inner humorous thought. She must have worked out regularly considering her sculpted, muscular physique.

She wore, as did all the girls in the office, a kind of Hawaiian floral uniform that fit her snuggly enough that not much of her figure was left to the imagination. Her chest was large and wide . . . she probably wasn't joking about the silicone. I'm not a good judge of women's bra sizes, but even on a gal as tall as Nicole, her breasts seemed generous, I would guess 38 to 40 and at least a D cup. Her waist was a little thick, but her hips flared out enough and her legs were so shapely that I bet that guys ran into phone poles on occasion trying to look behind them to get a glimpse of her butt. Her rear was also larger than the uniform designer allowed for, and clung to her firm, heart shaped derriere. She was certainly quite a beautiful and sexy package.

As I looked up from Nicole's butt, I found her looking at me. She winked, held up one finger, stuck her tongue out and continued talking softly on the phone.

"That's right," I overheard, "it's the red button on the left."

I looked around the office. We were on the eleventh floor of an older downtown office building. Although all the dental equipment was modern, including the flat screen monitor hanging in the corner, the area was probably originally designed as office space as this room had a locking door with a frosted glass window just like in the old movies where Humphrey Bogart ran his detective agency. There was a small window (sorely in need of a washing) overlooking an older, in some places, seedy area of the city. It was a popular community for GLBT's of all types.

". . . Okay. Uh huh. That's great. You're a love, Jackie." She finished and hung up the phone.

"I'm so sorry," Nicole said as she walked back over to the dental chair. "I had to take that call to make some arrangements."

She repositioned herself on her stool and leaned over me. "Let's see, where were we? Oh yes, I was about to clean your molars. Now show me how wide you can open that jaw. Quite huge as I remember."

I opened my mouth as wide as I could.

"That's great. I bet you could swallow a Polish sausage without scratching the skin," she joked.

As she was finishing up, Nicole put the tube in my mouth that sucks out excess saliva. She was missing some near the back of my mouth, so I closed my lips around the tube to increase the suction.

"You like sucking on that, Bob?" she joked . . . I think.

"I was just trying to get some more suction"

"I see. Let's try something. I'm going to turn the machine off, and you see if you can suck the rest of the water out of it"

"Why?" I asked.

"To please me," Nicole said in a matter of fact way.

I heard the pump go off and I sucked on the tube hard enough to get out a stream of water.

"That's really good, Bob. Hang on just a sec"

She got off her little stool and walked over to the office door. I was facing away, but I heard the door snap closed, then the click of a lock. Nicole came back over to her stool, sat down, reached out and grasping my face and firmly turned it toward her. 

She looked down into my eyes and in her Peggy Lee voice said, "Bobby, do you suck cock?"

"Whoa", I thought, "Where the hell did this come from?"

"Are you serious?" I demanded. "I'm a married man. I'm not gay."

"No, no, no", she soothed. "I don't mean you're gay, and I didn't mean now. I meant when you were young. I know how it goes with young men . . . they experiment. They go on campouts or sleepovers and start talking about sex things and pretty soon they're playing with themselves and each other. Then someone suggests they jack off or put their mouth on each other and things progress. I'm sure you probably did something like that when you were young didn't you, Bob? Almost all boys do."

"Well, I guess . . . kind of," I found myself saying.

"With who?"

"Just a neighbor kid."

"What was his name, Bobby?"

"Jesse James Jones" popped out of my mouth unwilled.

"Really, didn't take long to recall that name, did it?" she grinned, "And what did you and Jesse do?"

"Just kind of played with each other . . . nothing real serious", I couldn't believe I was saying these things. I'd never told anyone about any of this.

"Did you put your mouth on his penis?"

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"Did you suck on it?"

"Kind of"

"Did he ejaculate?"

"Maybe . . . I guess so."

"In your mouth?"

"Yes"

"Did you swallow it?"

"I don't know"

"Did you spit it out?"

"No"

"Well, than, I guess you swallowed it, didn't you, Bobbie?"

"Yeah . . . I guess I did." This was getting surreal.

"Did he tell you to do that; to swallow his cum?"

"Uh-huh"

"Did you like it?"

"No . . . I don't know . . . maybe. I mean we were kids. It was exciting. I don't think I really thought about it."

"Did you do it again?"

"Yeah, maybe a couple more times." I was astounded that I was saying these things . . . and to someone I hardly knew.

"How'd that happen?"

"Jesse made me"

"He made you. How'd he do that? Twist your arm? Beat you up?" She queried.

"He just made me . . . he ordered me to and he said he would tell everybody in school I was a queer if I didn't."

"Where'd you do that?"

"Once in the boy's locker room at high school and two or three times at his Aunt's house."

Nicole got this kind of strange smile on her face and said, "So, what does that make you, Baby?"

"I don't know, what?"

"A cum swallowing cocksucker," She laughed hardily and punched me in the shoulder.

"No, no . . . that was it. I never did it again," I said, trying to defend myself and trying to wipe a couple more college experiences out of my mind.

"Never . . . are you sure, Bobbie? You know what they say, 'Once a cocksucker always a . . . '" she let her sentence trail off.

A minute or two passed with Nicole staring down at me from her stool with a knowing smirk. I was stunned at the way this whole conversation was going.

"You miss it, don't you, Baby?"

"Miss what?" I questioned, knowing full well what she meant. Amazingly, I felt my dick getting harder in my pants just talking about it.

"Sucking dick, eating cum, being told what to do . . . I think you love being somebody's pet. I think you like to please your friends." She said as she laid her right hand on my crotch. Although I'm not very well endowed, I was sure she could feel my erection through my pants.

"It appears your dickie thinks you miss pleasing your friends too."

This was so weird, I almost felt like I was having a daydream or something and would wake up in a second. It was just so strange; I came here to get my teeth cleaned, like I have dozens of times before, and somehow the world went wild and I end up involved in this crazy encounter with a dental assistant turned psychologist.

"Am I your friend, Bobbie?" She asked.

"Well, sure. I guess so," I replied with some hesitation, not sure where this was going.

"Would you please me, Baby, if I told you to . . . as a friend?" she asked with kind of a Cheshire cat smile while she squeezed my enflamed penis.

"What does that mean?" I thought. "'Please her' about what? What pleasing could she want?" I found that, as I thought about it, I did want to please her. I wanted her to be my friend. I liked her taking charge and hoped she'd kind of help me along with whatever she had in mind.

"Sure, I think I would try." I said softly with a doubtful smile.

"I'll be back in a sec," she said as she got up and walked behind the little office partition that they stand behind when they do x-rays. I could hear fabric rustling and, once, a sound like elastic being snapped. She walked back out, and if I had expected her to be naked or something, I would have been disappointed. She looked exactly the same as when she got up to leave . . . beautiful.

She walked over to my left side and produced a padded 2" nylon strap which was apparently attached underneath the chair's armrest near where the wrist would lie. She wrapped it around my wrist and attached the industrial Velcro ends together.

As she walked around my right side she commented, "We use these when we administer Sodium Pentothal to our patients so they don't hurt themselves . . . or us," she chuckled and secured my right wrist.

"Am I going to get Sodium Pentothal?" I naively inquired.

"Oh, no, no, you're going to get something better, much better."

She picked up a wired remote control and said, "Hang on. We're going to go for a little ride." I felt my chair's back going down. It kept humming away until the back was totally reclined and the chair was about parallel to the floor and a couple of feet above it. She set the remote back down and immediately swung her leg over my chest like she was mounting a horse and sat down hard on my chest almost knocking the wind out of me.

She wiggled around on my chest getting more comfortable, gave me a wicked smile, and asked, "Do you like surprises?"

"Sometimes," I answered hesitantly.

"Well, this better be THE 'sometime', sweetie,"she pronounced, "because here comes the surprise." and lifted the hem of her skirt to her chest.

I wasn't very surprised. This fit in well with the psychedelic wet dream I was obviously having, because attached to her body where her female parts were supposed to be was the biggest, fattest uncircumcised cock I had ever seen. No, sorry, it wasn't the biggest. It wasn't really very long, but, boy was it fat. It was only about six inches in length, but it was probably three inches in diameter. It looked to be about the size of a Coca Cola can and, although firm, I had a hunch it wasn't even fully erect. She reached down and hefted it with both hands. One hand obviously wouldn't come close to circling it.

"Like it?" she asked.

Now, just because I sucked a few cocks years ago, I don't think of myself as gay. I'm really not attracted to guys sexually. I'm happily married. I work out, play sports, ride dirt bikes and flirt with girls. I'm a normal, well-adjusted guy, but watching this gorgeous woman (I just couldn't think of her as a man) play with her huge cock was the biggest sexual turn-on of my life.

"Yes, I do . . . I sure do," I managed to mumble; still not convinced I wasn't going to wake up any second.

"Want to suck it?" she asked.

"Yes, I do," I can't believe I said that. My will was not my own. I was totally absorbed in this strange encounter. "But I can't. That's impossible. It's just way too big."

"Oh, yes, you can. I know you can," She was now stroking her cock a little and, to my amazement, it grew even larger before my eyes. She pulled the foreskin back as a large drop of pre-cum oozed out the tip and slid down the head. I was enthralled.

"I've been looking for you all my life," she related, "you're the reason I went into the dental business, it was the only way I could think of to find someone with a mouth large enough to handle my penis. I've never met anyone, man or woman, that could get my dick in their mouth and some of them tried very hard."

"What makes you think I can?"

"Oh, I know you can; I've measured your mouth opening. It'll be a little tight, and, maybe stretch your lips a little at first, but you can do it. I'm convinced that soon, with a little practice and training, you'll even be able to take me down your throat." 

As she massaged her prick she was holding back the foreskin and the pre-cum had coated her cockhead and was dripping on my shirt. It was better than the most pornographic clip I had ever seen on the internet . . . man strapped helpless in a dentist's chair, a beautiful shemale with a huge cock sitting on his chest leaking pre coital fluids onto his body. It would have to be a 5-Star rating. At this point I was so absorbed in the scene that I was lost in my lust. I could have been hogtied on the Thanksgiving table with all my relatives sitting around and I would have been oblivious to anything but Nicole and Nicole's amazing cock.

"Come on, sweetie, give it a try," she pleaded as she slid her bottom up my chest so that her giant cockhead was resting on my lower lip.

It was fully erect now. Another dollop of pre-cum slid out of her cock slit and, after a second of mental deliberation, I stuck out my tongue and licked it off. It tasted smooth, creamy and wonderful. My own small cock was now hard as a rod and my libido was in overdrive. I was just kind of floating along in my own sexual subspace.

"Open wide, baby. You can do it," Nicole instructed.

I opened my mouth as wide as I could and Nicole started pushing her prick against my lips.

It wouldn't fit. I knew it wouldn't fit. I was open as wide as possible and Nicole was shoving hard, but it wasn't working. The mushroom head of her dick was just too big.

"Come on, sweetie, just a little wider" she begged. "You can do it".

I tried to stretch even wider, but I was at my maximum. I could feel her shoving very forcefully now; my lips were being mashed against my teeth. It just wasn't working.

Suddenly Nicole burst into tears, let out a mournful cry and sat back on my chest sobbing. Her penis softened and her whole body seemed to wilt.

"God, how I wanted that," she cried. "I was sure it would work. I was convinced it would." She sniffled and snorted before she went on. " It's the only thing I've really wanted since I was seventeen and heard all the guys bragging about how great it was to get 'some head'. As I grew older and heard more stories, I wanted it more than anything else. I've gone my whole life without anyone able to please me in that most intimate of all ways and now I'll never know that joy."

I felt terrible and hated to see her cry, but could think of no solution to her problem. "Maybe you can just keep on looking and find somebody else." I suggested even though I hated the thought of losing her.

"No" she sniffled. "I've been looking too long as it is. I don't really like this job that well and in all these years you're the only person I've found that even came close . . . plus I like you, you're a very nice guy. It looked like it was going to be the perfect match for me. I'm so disappointed . . . this is the worst day of my life."

Now I really felt bad. I was slowly coming out of my sexual trance and had an idea.

"What if you weren't hard?" I questioned.

"What do you mean?" she sniffled.

"What if you didn't have an erection when you put it in my mouth?"

"Then what happens when I get hard?" she questioned.

"Well, I guess that the worst that could happen would be that you'd choke me and I'd die of suffocation," I half joked.

"You'd do that for me?" She asked me looking all doe eyed. "You'd risk your life to give me pleasure."

I really didn't think that there was much chance of me dying from cock choking so I replied "I'm willing to give it a try, since it means so much to you."

"You are such a sweet guy; I'll try to be real gentle," she said while she scooted back up near my face.

Seeing that her dick was still semi-soft, I said, "Try it now."

I opened wide and she grabbed her cock at the base, aimed it toward my mouth and guided it to a position between my lips. She gave one hard thrust with her pelvis and the huge head slipped past my lips and into my mouth.

"Oh God, Oh God, we've done it," she cried. "Oh, I love you, baby."

"What HAVE I done?" I thought fearfully. This thing was so huge soft that it almost totally filled my mouth and it was starting to get bigger. I was sure that her dick was probably greater in diameter than the tennis balls I used to insert in my mouth and they were always harder to get out than in, and they never grew once inside me like I could feel her prick now doing. I knew my teeth must be digging into her expanding cock, but she didn't seem to notice. I could feel my lips stretching and hurting at the corners. "How the hell am I ever going to get this monster back out?" I wondered.

"Oh, Oh, Oh, Suck it, Baby. Suck it for Mommy"

Nicole was rocking gently back and forth causing her dick to slide an inch or two in and out of my mouth. She was moaning softly and the rhythm was escalating as her dick grew and filled every portion of my mouth and part of my throat. I was finding it more difficult to get enough oxygen.

"I just might die right here," I thought. My hands were strapped down, she was sitting on my chest restricting my breathing and my windpipe was being cut off by a growing cock. Suddenly it dawned on me what I had to do. It went in soft; it had to come out soft. I had to quickly become the best cocksucker in the world to make her cum before I suffocated. I frantically started trying to work my tongue around in the confined space I had left in my mouth. I started using my cheek and throat muscles like I was swallowing to further stimulate her dick.




Open Wide



"Oh, Baby, that's good. That's really good. Suck it, Suck it, SUCK IT!"

All my attention seemed to be working as I could hear Nicole's breathing get faster and heavier and feel more blood pumping through her prick. 

"Oh, baby, that's it . . . that's perfect. AHH, AHH, AAAAHHH!"

I was getting little gasps of breath as she rocked back, but knew it wasn't enough oxygen to keep me going very long. I started raising my head off the headrest and pushing back against her cock. It meant I had to take her further into my throat, but it also gave me a little more air when I pulled back. It wasn't a great tradeoff, because her penis was actually a little wider at the base and I could feel the corners of my lips splitting and my throat getting pummeled. If I lived through this, they would both be really sore tomorrow.

"Mmmmm, mmmmm, OH God, YEEESSS!" She wailed.

She put her feet down and lifted herself off my chest leaning over me so her dick was directly above my mouth. As she did that her uniform skirt swung forward and covered my head. Suddenly I was in a dark and humid cocoon. The odor of sex was overwhelming: sweat, sexual juices, perfume and the piquant odor of Nicole's busy penis. With the darkness and Nicole's thighs blocking my ears my remaining senses of feel, smell, and taste were totally focused on Nicole's massive prick and how I could satisfy her lust. I was in a different, totally consuming space. It was wonderful!

Now, from her new position, she was able to shove her dick even further down my throat. I couldn't breathe at all until she made an upstroke, which was becoming less and less frequent. I tried to take huge lungful's of air when that happened.

"Oh, oh, OOHH, OOOOHH, GOD!" she was now almost screaming.

I thought Nicole was getting close to cuming. Even in my almost soundproof den I could hear her making a weird groaning sound and she was pumping faster and faster. I could feel her cock pulsating in my mouth and her breath ragged. She was leaning right over me now, driving her tool straight down into my mouth and throat. She had wrapped her hands around my head and was pulling my head up as she drove down. She had found her rhythm now and was pounding my face with her balls slapping my chin. Thankfully she was taking long full strokes and I was catching some decent breaths on the withdrawal.

"Okay, Baby, Okay. I'm almost there . . . almost, almost, OH, OH, OH GOD. . . I'M CUMMING!" She drove her cock down as far as it would go, held it there, and began pumping loads of sperm directly down my gullet. Her dick throbbed and jerked as if it were a living creature and just kept pumping away. After several seconds, she pulled back slightly and, still pumping cum, now filled what was left of my mouth in one huge spurt. I tried to swallow it quickly, but another blast forced her nectar out of the corners of my mouth and it flowed down my cheeks. A second later I could feel her juice running into my ears. I didn't know anyone could cum so much.

Slowly the pulsations died away and I could sense her breathing slowing somewhat. I could feel the throbbing diminish and her dick softening in my mouth.

Suddenly there was bright light and a wave of cool fresh air as Nicole lifted her skirt. I hated to lose my erotic makeshift tent. Nicole was looking down at me still breathing pretty hard and gasped, "That was the most fabulous thing I've ever experienced. You were wonderful, Bobbie. It took me 38 years, but it was worth the wait; I don't think there's another sexual experience that compares. Thank you, thank you, and thank you."

There was a rap on the glass door pane. "Everything all right in there, Nicole?" a feminine voice called. "Oh, yes, Veronica, everything's fine . . . real fine. Thanks"

She slowly pulled her now softening dick from my mouth and grabbed it in both hands milking a couple more gobs of cream out.

"Here comes dessert." she said. The first plopped on my face, but by the second I was able to maneuver my mouth under her dick and caught it on my tongue. I added it to the collection of sperm still coating the inside of my mouth. It was warm, smooth and delicious.

"Good boy," she complimented with a smile.

I returned the smile, rolled it around in my mouth and performed an exaggerated swallow.

"Oh Lord, what a mess I made of you," she said, looking down at my face. "Let's clean you up a little, baby."

She leaned down and began licking her sperm off my face. "Don't you just love this, Bobbie? Don't I have the best tasting cum?"

"I wouldn't know, Nicole, but, it sure tasted good to me . . . and plenty of it too," I kidded.

"Those lips are going to be pretty sore for a couple of days, but they've stopped bleeding. I'll put some medication on them. How's your throat?"

"Kind of raw," I replied.

"I've got some great spray for that too. We use it all the time. Do you want your mouth rinsed out?"

I thought for a few seconds and said, "No, I don't think so. I kind of want to savor the taste for a while."

"That is SO great. I love you, baby," and she leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. 

"Hang on a sec," she called as she was headed toward the wall phone.

"Can you undo these straps?" I called after her.

"In a minute"

She picked up the phone and pushed one button. "Hi, Jackie, we're done . . . Uh-huh . . . No, you can turn it off now . . . Right . . . and please schedule Mr. Wilson for another appointment next Monday; I have more work to do in his mouth." She turned and gave me a lewd smile and a wink. "Make it the last appointment of the day, please."

"Yes," Nicole chuckled, "he sure did."

About this time I was feeling I was being left out of some kind of private secret. Nicole hung up the phone and walked back to the chair.

"Can you please take these straps off now?" I asked.

"In a minute, I said," Her voice had an irritated edge. "We need to have a little talk first."

"Uh oh," I thought. "What's going on now?" I said nothing.

"How long will it take you to settle up your affairs?" she asked me in a businesslike voice.

"What? . . . What affairs? . . . What're you talking about?" I was getting a little pissed at her not letting me loose.

"Why, your personal affairs, of course; primarily your work and current living arrangements."

"What . . . what the hell do you mean?"

"What part didn't you understand? You're quitting your job and moving in with me." She stated with a sharp edge to her voice.

"The hell you say . . . you're fucking crazy."

I didn't see it coming, so it was all the more shock when she smashed her open hand across my face. I'd never been hit so hard. My eyes teared up immediately and I saw spots in my vision. I was sure my face was already discolored and would probably be nicely bruised tomorrow. I could taste blood in my mouth.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that, you asshole," Nicole practically yelled in my face. "I'm bigger, stronger and fitter than you are and have no compunction about kicking your sissy ass all over this office if you disrespect me again . . . GOT IT?"

"Yes" I heard myself softly reply.

"What was that, bitch? I didn't hear you."

"Yes, Ma'am, I understand," I said louder.

"Good! Now, let's be reasonable. Do you think for a moment that after it took me years to find you, or someone like you, I'm going to let you just walk away? I've spent a good part of my life mucking around in people's sorry mouths searching for something. Now, I've found it and it's you, Bob, you're it. You're going to be mine forever now and you better get used to the idea because that's the way it's going to be and there's nothing you can do to change that."

"She really is crazy," I thought. "I'm strapped down and locked in here with an absolute loon." 

"What does that mean exactly? The 'you're mine' part I mean," I timidly asked, as tactfully as I could, not wanting to risk another brain jarring smack . . . or worse.

"You're going to be my live in bitch . . . my cocksucker . . . my cum eater. You're going to be anything and everything I want you to be. You're going to become 'Bobbie, the suck slut' . . . my personal 24/7 whore. You're going to abandon your current vanilla life, move in with me, and be my sexual slave."

"You know I can't do that. It's impossible. I've got a life. I've got responsibilities." I tried to reason. "I've got a wife, a house, cars, a decent job which helps pay lots of bills; I can't just walk away from everything."

"Listen to me, it's not up for debate; you can and you will. You've got one month to get your affairs in order and show up on my doorstep. If you don't, I'll come and get you and that won't be pretty at all."

"Hey, you can slap me around if you like, but I'm not going to do it. I'll meet you wherever, whenever, you want, do what you want, but I'm not tossing away everything I've ever worked for."

"I think you will. I had a feeling that if it came down to this, you might balk, so I took out a little insurance. Remember the first time you were here and we put that little TV camera in your mouth and showed you the images of the condition of your teeth on that monitor?" She pointed to the TV mounted in the corner of the ceiling. "Well," she reached over and picked up a tiny wired device off the chair's attached utility table, "This little camera's been recording everything we did today and Jackie tells me the images are excellent. Now, the only question is where you want these to end up; in my bedroom for our private enjoyment, or on the internet for your family, friends and associates to see."

Immediately the thought, "Oh, my God, how could I let this happen" ran through my mind. "A simple teeth cleaning and my whole life has gone to shit. What the hell do I do now?" I wondered.

She leaned over me again and put her mouth next to my ear. "I know I'm asking a lot," she soothed in her now soft sexy voice, "but there is an upside to all this."

"What might that be?" I asked sarcastically.

"You're going to love your new life. It's going to be everything your submissive little heart ever wished for. Your only job, the only thing in the world you'll be responsible for, is keeping me happy. You're going to get to suck my cock morning, noon and night, you're going to get to swallow a pint of cum every day, you'll learn to adore having my fat prick up your ass-pussy, you'll get to clean my whole body with your tongue, you'll get to serve as my personal toilet and, best of all, you'll meet a whole bunch of new friends who want to use you the same way; you wonderful cock-sucking whore.

"You want to be dominated; I know it, you know it, even your old friend Jesse knew it. In your heart, in your soul and in your mind, you want nothing more in life than to serve. Opportunity knocks. This is your chance, probably your last and only chance, to fulfill that desire. You can say no and try to go back to your vanilla wife and your vanilla life, but I think you'd regret that for the rest of your life and always remember what might have been. This is your big break, the way to make all your wet dreams, including some you haven't even imagined yet, come true . . . You've got a month to decide if you do this willingly or by force."

I knew at that moment what my decision would be.

"Could you please release me now, Mistress? I've got a lot to do before my move."



Open Wide



I sat down that the counter and picked up the menu and I looked for their sandwich section. I really wanted a big thick club sandwich and finally decided on a turkey club with bacon with a side of fries. After I ordered my lunch then I looked around. There were a few couples and a guy sitting alone in a booth towards the back.

The guy was slim and looked to be a bit more than average height. He had short dark hair and tan skin. I looked away when he caught me checking him out but not before I had a chance to see his smile. I glanced back at him and he was definitely checking me out. I wasn't used to being checked out and was relieved when my sandwich arrived.

I opened my mouth wide and took a bite out of the sandwich. I could barely fit it in my mouth it was so thick. My jaw was stretched almost beyond its limits. As I chewed the bite, I glanced back over at the guy; he was staring at me. His cheeks were flushed and he was squirming uncomfortably. He looked like he was turned on but I had no idea what could possibly be causing him to react that way.

"Weirdo," I thought and focused on the sandwich. When I finished I paid the check and headed out. He jumped up and followed me.

"Hey, wait up," he called. I stopped and waited for him to catch up. "I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dessert."

"Umm ... I need to get back to my friend's house," I answered. I didn't really have a friend's house to get back to but I needed a plausible excuse.

"Please?" he pleaded.

My mind raced to find a reason not to accept this weirdo's request but I couldn't think of anything. "Okay, sure," I finally answered. It was just dessert; surely, I could handle that.

"My name's Jeremy," he said as he extended his hand.

"I'm Nan," I replied and shook his hand. I followed him back into the diner and squeezed into the booth next to him. The booth was one that was a semi-circle around the backside of the table and not very comfortable for larger women. I was short, too, so my large breasts were smooshed against the table.

I ordered a piece of blueberry pie. While we waited, we started getting to know each other. He was in IT and lived nearby. I told him a little bit about myself as I ate my pie. I noticed he had started squirming again.

"You have a really cute small mouth," he said.

"Thanks," I replied. There was an uncomfortable silence as I tried to figure out why he'd said that.

"I ... I never do this, but you really turn me on. I have a thing for small mouths and I've wanted you since I saw you take that first bite of your sandwich. I need to have you," he blurted suddenly.

"I ... I ... we just met!" I said and blushed. No one had ever said anything like that to me before.

"Please Nan, I am so hard for you," Jeremy said as he picked up my hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. "You don't have to fuck me, just suck me off."

I could feel his cock straining against his pants and there as already a wet spot forming. I cupped his cock and lightly squeezed it. His face turned bright red and a soft moan escaped.

"I don't know, I've never done anything like this before," I answered.

"Please, I need to feel that little mouth stretched wide around my cock," Jeremy whispered as I continued to rub his cock through his pants.

"Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes," I said then stood up. I quickly made my way to the bathroom and closed the door behind me but didn't lock it. I was breathless as I quickly covered the floor with paper towels. I couldn't believe I had said yes.

I was still fully dressed as I knelt on the paper towels. I looked up when there was a quick knock. "Someone's in here," I called out.

"It's me," he said.

"Come in," I replied. The door opened and he slipped in.

"Oh god Nan," Jeremy groaned when he saw me on my knees waiting for him. He locked the door then quickly unzipped his pants and let them fall to the floor as he moved closer. His seven-inch cock was rock hard and oozing precum. 

I reached out and caressed it, my fingers running down the length of the shaft. His whole body reacted when I touched him. As I played with his cock with my hand, I licked my lips several times.

"Suck it," Jeremy begged. He pressed the tip against my moistened lips. 

I grinned then lightly licked the tip, swirling my tongue all over it as I wrapped my fingers around the shaft. He gasped then moaned loudly as he tried to push his cock into my mouth. I pressed back against his thigh with my free hand and continued to focus on the tip, my fist sliding up and down on the shaft.

"Please, suck my cock," he begged again. I smiled then watched his face as I allowed his cock to slip past my lips and into my mouth.

Jeremy moaned loudly. "Oh god Nan ... your mouth feels amazing."

He caressed my face with one hand as he slid the other through my hair. Jeremy made a fist in my hair so he could hold my head still as he slid more of his cock into my mouth.

"Oh god, your mouth is stretched so fucking wide," Jeremy whispered as he stared at his cock moving in and out of my mouth. He slowly forced more of his cock into my mouth then started to fuck it. His cock started to go down my throat further with each thrust. 

I caressed his balls with one hand and placed my other hand on his thigh to keep my balance. His body was shaking as he fucked my mouth.

"So fucking good," Jeremy said. "Take it all ... touch your lips to the base."

He pulled out completely then slowly pushed his cock into my mouth until it filled it and went down my throat. Jeremy held it there for several seconds. "Oh yea, Nan, that's fucking amazing. Does your jaw hurt?"

I nodded my head and he smiled. Jeremy let his cock slide out until just the tip was between my lips then started to jerk himself off. I swirled my tongue around the tip and licked the sensitive underside. His eyes were closed and his head was tossed back as his hand flew up and down the shaft. 

"Oh god Nan ... I'm going to coat your mouth and throat with my hot ... sticky ... cum," he warned.

I braced myself as Jeremy rammed his cock down my throat then started to cum. Shot after shot of thick cum streamed from his cock until he could cum no more. 

He pulled out and we both looked at his cock—he was still rock hard. I couldn't believe after cumming so much that it was possible for him to be hard. "Surprised, huh? I'll be ready to cum again in a few minutes," Jeremy assured me as he lightly ran his hand up and down the shaft to keep it hard. "Do you want another mouthful?"

"No, please cum on my face," I answered. Jeremy smiled.

"Okay, Nan. I'm going to fuck your mouth again then I'll cover your face and tits with my cum," he replied. "Take your shirt and bra off so I can see those huge tits."

I pulled away slightly and slipped my T-shirt and bra off together and set them on the floor next to me. Jeremy quickly replaced his cock in my mouth and reached down to tug on my nipples. 

"They're amazing," Jeremy said as he tried to lift my breasts by the nipples. I cried out around his cock and he smiled. He enjoyed hearing my reaction.

"Are you wet?" he asked. I nodded my head. I was so turned on that my juices were dripping down my thighs. "Good, I like knowing that."

Jeremy continued to fuck my mouth slowly for several more minutes as he tormented my nipples and breasts. He tugged and squeezed the nipples, smiling each time I moaned.

"Here it cums," Jeremy warned as he pulled his cock out and wrapped his fingers around the shaft. His fingers were a blur as he jerked himself off. "Hold your breasts up."

I cupped my breasts and held them up to him, almost as if they were an offering. The cum exploded from the end of his cock and he coated my breasts and face with the sticky mess.

"Rub it into your skin," he said as he stepped back to lean against the sink and recovered from his orgasm.

I rubbed the cum into my breasts and chest, blushing as the liquids soaked into my skin. Jeremy watched to make sure I got it all then turned to moisten a paper towel. He handed it to me and I quickly cleaned his cum from my face.

"Thank you Nan," he said as he pulled his pants back up and zipped them. "That was fucking amazing."

He waited until I was dressed again before he unlocked the door and slipped out. I fixed my hair as best I could then made my way out to the diner. Jeremy was gone.

I needed to cum so I hurried back to my hotel room. I pulled my clothes off as the door closed behind me then pulled my favorite vibrator out of the suitcase. I laid on the bed and closed my eyes as I turned the toy on and slipped it between my legs. I replayed the bathroom encounter in my head as I rubbed the toy against my clit until my body shook from my first orgasm. It wasn't enough though and I quickly brought myself to orgasm again.

I never did see Jeremy again, even though I went back to the diner several times before I had to go home. I came at least a dozen times that week to the memory of what we'd done in the diner's bathroom. It was the most amazing vacation thanks to Jeremy and his obsession with small mouths.



Open Window



I turned my head and said "That's the third time she's been past." Mistress Sheena smiled enigmatically and commanded me to continue. With both hands on one breast, I raised the nipple to my mouth and with my long, studded tongue traced around it, then sucked it into my mouth. I caught the eye of the woman below....held it and moved one hand to my naked cunt, pushing a finger deep inside.

Mistress Sheena beckoned me to retreat from the window. "Who is she? Do you recognise her?" I certainly did. She is a professor at the college I attend, a woman of about 35, bespectacled, serious and a closet case if ever I'd seen one. She lives in the women's apartment complex here on campus, a floor above me. We'd passed in the halls a number of times and I had noticed she had stopped, turned and watched me move, on more than one occasion. That heightened my exhibitionist sensibilities. The last time it happened I had just returned from a swim and had nothing on under my sarong. I had dropped it at her feet, and she had handed it back to me, appraising my tits whilst she did.

"She is entering the building" my Mistress said "Go to her. Bring her here. Here - wear this. Show her what a slut you are!" Mistress Sheena tossed me a pair of tight black glossy plastic shorts and a halter bra which had half-moon cups which left my nipples exposed. It did however push up my tits to make them appear larger than the 32B size they are. The shorts were so tight and skimpy they cut into my ass and cunt, leaving the cheeks and my full, fleshy, plump labia lips exposed.

A few minutes later I returned, my sugar cup full. "She will be a moment or two" I reported. "She is following behind." My behind, I hope, I thought.

"Very well, remove your shorts and lean over by the window. Rest your hands on the sill, and stick out your ass. Look out the window", I was told. I obeyed, and a few moments later found myself being paddled on my firm, taut, athletic butt. I yelped. I wriggled my ass some more. It was stinging, and feeling very, very good. I heard a gasp, an intake of breath behind me and knew she had arrived. I continued to stare ahead, out the window, watching the curtain twitch in the apartment opposite. Whack, I felt the paddle once more, but the style was somewhat different. I glanced over my shoulder to see that she had replaced Mistress Sheena as my tormentor. Juice started to flow down the inside of my legs.

She was wearing a beige sweater set, a pair of beautifully tailored pants in a slightly darker hue, her auburn hair was fixed in a chignon, her makeup perfect. On her feet she wore low-heeled pumps, not needing any heel to add to her 6 foot in height. She towered over me...leaning forward as I was my slight, boyish 5' 2" frame was diminutive. I am lean, like a boy (except for those fleshy love flaps), sporty, a tomboi / leaning butch. My hair is almost non-existent, thanks to my weekly #1, and I have piercings and tatts in various places.

Mistress Sheena continued to stand to one side. She and I had met on-line. She had grilled me as to my suitability, had asked me to prove my exhibitionism before she would deign to dominate me. After several rigorous inquisitions in which I had to provide her with a full sexual history, undertake personality assessments and even consent to a graphology (handwriting) analysis, she had tested my credibility by insisting that my then girlfriend and I fuck publicly, without my g/f knowing my intentions.

She had dictated my wardrobe (she wasn't at all interested in my g/f) - I was to wear a short plastic coat and nothing underneath. NOTHING! She sent us tickets to the movie 'Bound', showing in a retrospective viewing at an art house cinema near campus. She was quite explicit. During the first half hour I was to fondle myself, making myself cum - noiselessly. As soon as I had cum (I assured her I would, and she deduced from the inquisitions that I would) I was to undo the coat and mount my g/fs girlcock. I had told her my g/f always packed when we went out. I was to sit on her cock, which I would release from her zippered trouser-clad crotch, and rock and bounce to orgasm and to scream at my own release. Whilst my g/f was never to know I had been put up to this, she, Mistress Sheena, would be watching from her vantage point and assessing me.

I must have passed, because that night I had an email instructing me to stay home that night - she would arrive at 10pm, which she did, on the stroke of the hour. She cannot abide lack of punctuality. She said I would never be allowed to see her anywhere else, and she would rarely touch me herself. She would procure for me, direct me, and see that my exhibitionism was fully deployed to my satisfaction. What was in it for her, I asked? She assured me it paid off for her too, but would not be more specific.

All these memories filled my mind in the moments between the first WHACK of the paddle from The Professor and the second....and third. My assailant then ran one hand along my naked spine, lingered on my neck and rubbed slowly across my shaved nape and head - the feeling of her hand on my bristles caused droplets of cunt juice to ooze from my centre. I felt her stiffen and stop; her hand froze on my nape. "My God" she exclaimed "The curtains are open still..."

Mistress Sheena moved towards the window, and pulled the curtains yet wider open. "Yes!" she commanded. " You are to fuck in open view".

The Professor stepped back. "I-I-I can't" she demurred. "It would mean my job if I am seen." She turned as if to go.

Mistress Sheena allowed her to step back from the open window into the centre of the room. "I don't think so, dear lady. This is what you want, this is the fulfillment of your inner-most desires and passions and fantasies. This is your core! Denial will bring certain curtailment of your essence. Step back towards your desire."

With these words, The Professor fell completely under the spell of Mistress Sheena. She removed the pins from her maidenly bun, and allowed her auburn locks to tumble past her shoulders. Mistress Sheena indicated to me that I was to proceed. I reached out my hand for The Professor, pulling her gently to centre-stage, in front of the open window. I unbuttoned her sweater and removed it, tossing it from the window. 

I did the same with her bra. I sat on the sill, and began to suckle the perfect, rounded and firm breasts. Her nipples hardened in my mouth, swelling to the insistent touch of my tongue. I swept my tongue over, and all around the hard, nobbly buds in turn. I found their centre and pressed down with my tongue stud...then dragged my tongue around their perimeter, then sucking hard and long on each nipple, then pushing her breasts together as close as possible, taking both nips into my mouth and drawing the nips out as long as possible in a gummy, sucking movement. I could feel the balmy air on my back. I looked up to see her staring ahead, out the window momentarily, before arching her neck and letting out a low moan of utter pleasure.

I moved my hands to her trousers and unbuttoned and unzipped the side opening. My hands smoothed them down over her hips and down her legs, and she stepped out of them. She stood before me in a g-string. I clasped her bare ass cheeks and kneaded them. She stood 10 inches taller than me, so she could both watch and be seen clearly through the window. I returned to her delicious breasts, feasting on them, burying my face between them, as one hand plunged behind the small triangular slip of fabric covering her pussy. I hooked fingers around her mound and allowed them to begin to explore her lips and wet, slippery slit. She was beginning to pant and moan like a bitch on heat. 

As I thrust two fingers deep inside her wetness, she began to ride my fingers, fucking them as might a bucking beast. She was completely lost in her own pleasure, shouting "Fuck me, harder, deeper..." I complied, increasing the number of fingers inside her to three, and using my other hand to remove the g and start to trace her ass crack. "Oh my god" she shouted..."yes, yes, yes, my ass too!" Her words would be carrying fully beyond the window and out to the street and buildings yon.

"Oh, yes!" she shouted "Oh, yes!" "YES YES YES" she shuddered and shouted her cumming, and at the moment she gripped my fingers in her cunt with her spasms, I thrust one finger into her arse - a few millimetres, then past the resistance to the second knuckle. She laughed and cried simultaneously and I caught her - just - as she swooned forward...

I knew now I had not been failed by Mistress Sheena. The vetting process had been worthwhile. I could hardly wait until my girlfriend came home in about half an hour. This would be the best birthday eve she had ever spent!



Open Window



As I pulled off the secondary highway, I wondered about the motel given the sole vehicle in the parking area. I surmised that Thursday night business was normally sparse in Nowhere, New Mexico, and the outward appearance of the place wasn't necessarily significant in regards to the quality. Besides, as road-weary as I was at the moment, a bath and a bed would suffice.

The lobby consisted of a counter and not much else. Frugal was the only way to describe the décor, and other than the guest book and a pen holder, the counter was bare. 

Sitting behind the counter was a very old man, intently watching a classic black and white movie on the small television set perched on a diminutive table to one side of the counter. It seemed an honest effort for him to wrangle his way out of the overstuffed office chair and get me checked in. With no more than three words spoken, I was registered and handed a key. Lucky number seven I thought to myself as I walked from the lobby toward my car.

The room was Spartan but clean, and the old but overly large bathtub was a pleasant discovery. It was even more pleasant as I sank into a tubful of scorching hot water and let the miles of lonely road drift from my body.

Flopping on the bed wearing nothing but a turban and toga fashioned from the motel towels, I manned the television remote and clicked through all seven available channels. Eerily, the only movie showing was on channel seven. It turned out to be the same black and white flick as the motel desk clerk was watching. Desperate, I began to watch, and I was quickly drawn into a couple of the subtle romantic scenes. 

Despite the old movie showing nothing but bare arms on the lead actress, and the male star never touching either above or below her elbows, the dialogue and actions of her handsome beau were beginning to have an effect. I began to slowly heat up and allow my mind to wander in thoughts and fantasies of where the romantic conversation, brief kisses, and oh-so-subtle touches might lead. It wasn't long before the toga was up around my navel and I had a finger working my pussy while the fingers of my other hand freed up a nipple. 

With my head propped on the two pillows against the headboard, I bent my knees and spread my legs for better access, and exposed both breasts to the touch of my fingers. With fingers slipping in and out of my wetness, and pulling out to skitter across my clit, it wasn't long before the first orgasm tore through me like a shockwave of pleasure. My pussy gripped at my fingers as I pulled and twisted at engorged nipples. I was still quivering from the last rippling sensations when I noticed the window.

In my haste to grab a bath, I hadn't noticed the drapery on the window was slightly ajar, and just wide enough for me to spot the movement and catch a glimpse of eyes staring back at me. I had just allowed someone unknown a full-in-the-face view of my spread eagled pussy while indulging in the most intimate of acts. They had watched my fingers ravish my pussy, and observed the pulsing quivers of my entire orgasm. I was furious, mortified, and unbelievably turned on all at the same time. 

With little in the way of options, and with a strange sense of arousal coursing through me, I simply looked into my observers eyes and opened my legs. 

As I used my fingers to slightly spread the outer lips of my drenched pussy, I noticed some movement at the lower edge of the window, but in the sparse outside light I could not see any detail. I thought about reaching to turn off the light above the bed, but then I knew the observer would not be able to see me, and I was now fully aroused at putting on a little performance for whoever it was. I had to know more.

Yanking the towel from around me and allowing whoever was watching to see me completely nude, I slowly moved to the foot of the bed and arose to open the curtains just a little more. All the while I was looking directly into the eyes of my admirer. 

As I tugged the heavy curtains a crack more open, I was suddenly eyeball to eyeball with my voyeur, and the most beautiful steely-gray eyes I had ever seen. He was an older man, perhaps fifty given the touch of gray at the temples, and the well-worn Stetson gave him a certain rugged and decidedly western appeal. A gawking cowboy, smiling widely, and likely as surprised as I am at the sudden turn of events. He had undoubtedly watched my entire performance, given the magnificent cock that was rearing at full erection from the opened zipper of his jeans, and he was still slowly stroking it as he allowed his eyes to freely roam my nakedness. He likely had me with the eyes and the smile, but the sight of that gorgeous cock was the clincher. I was beyond hot. 

I watched his eyes widen as I cupped a small breast and leaned closer to the window, just touching the eraser hard nipple against the cool pane of glass that separated us. He stroked harder and faster as he lowered, and his tongue danced across the window directly opposite my nipple. I pinched to simulate his licking bite, as my other hand quickly found my crotch. 

I crushed a nipple hard against the window as his lips pressed, and I wanted his sucking mouth attached to my nipple so badly. My fingers were drenched in my juices as I worked my pussy and felt another orgasm building.

Dropping to my knees I licked at the window just even with his cock, and he pressed the purple and wildly flared head against the glass, smearing a shiny trail of precum as he stroked. I could almost feel my tongue working the huge ridge of his knob, and sucking at the seeping wetness that freely oozed from the engorged tip. He was dripping horny and hard as a rock. 

I looked up for a moment and our eyes met. I could see and sense the intense desire in his eyes, and I again lowered my gaze as he stroked furiously while I plunged two fingers deep into my pussy. I ground my palm hard against my bulging clit as I actually heard his groan of release through the glass. 

He came like a stallion, blasting jets of thick rich semen against the glass, and aimed directly at my mouth. My own orgasm struck at that moment, and we came together as the final spurts of semen oozed and dripped from that beautiful cock. 

I could hear him gasping as he continued to stroke his withering cock, and I'm sure he heard my own mewled cry from the intense orgasm that wracked my body. I sagged against the windowpane in the aftermath. 

As I quivered and recovered, I watched the coagulated mass of semen slowly crawl down the windowpane. Slowly rising, I met his gaze. 

I think we both knew it was over, and I watched as he slipped his spent cock back into his jeans and mouthed a thank you. He stood there for a moment, and rested one hand against the window as I pressed my breast against his hand and mouthed my own thank you. He smiled again, and with a slight wave and a tip of his hat, my cowboy disappeared into the night. My legs felt like jelly as I closed the drapes and staggered toward the bed. 

As I lay on the bed, thoughts of my mysterious cowboy and our deeds have my hand cupping my pussy. Visions flash through my mind of his burly frame hovering over me as I guide that beautiful cock, and I can almost feel that rigid flared phallus slipping into my wetness. As I drift toward sleep, I ache for the satisfying sensation of being wrapped in his strong arms, and my pussy filled to overflowing with his potent semen. Umm…lucky room number seven indeed.

Readers: Your comments are always appreciated 



Open Window



I always close the window when I sleep. Call me crazy, but I always think someone's going to climb the six stories to my bedroom and come in. It's probably an irrational childhood fear, but I still adhere to it.

I don't know why anyone would actually want to climb into my window; I'm pretty non-descript. Light brown hair, dark blue eyes, no distinguishing features to speak of, smallish breasts and okay legs. Not really the kind of girl guys fall all over themselves to date or really even talk to. It doesn't help that I'm self-conscious about taking my clothes off for men. Several years ago, after surgery, my body had trouble healing. As a result scars adorn my body from my sternum to my pelvis. I normally keep to myself, rarely go out, and never really make myself up. I'd had a few boyfriends over the years, but nothing I really wanted to pursue. They were all too... something. Too passive, too clingy, too boring. For all my average qualities, I was looking for someone who was noticeable, gorgeous, and charismatic. I'd been looking for the past six months and was ready to give up.

I always come home from work exhausted and tonight was no exception. I was frustrated, tired, and in an overall bitchy mood, all I wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed. Unfortunately, my friends had other plans for me. 

"You have one new message," my machine chirped at me. Too tired to care, I let the message play. 

"Trina, girl! It's Carli and Sabrina and we're coming to pick you up at nine o'clock sharp! There's this new bar you have to try out with us. Pleasepleaseplease come? You never go anywhere. Sooo... we'll be at your place at nine to drag you out to have fun, okay? Bye-bye!"

Carli: the optimist. I had to love her, but could just as easily hate her and her chipper, everything-is-wonderful routine. Needless to say, men loved her.

I didn't want to go, but I figured I'd make it easier on everyone and just suck it up and make an appearance. So, I got in the shower, turned the hot water on full blast and leaned against the cool tiles. It had been a long time since I'd been out and now that I thought about it, it was kind of exciting. Maybe I'd even unearth my rarely used make-up and dig through my closet to find something a little sexier. I rubbed my soapy tits, recalling the rough skin of men pressed against me, the heat of a hard cock pressed into my thigh. Damn, it had been a long time. Too long, I suppose, the sexual frustration was building. I slid my hands down lower and rubbed my clit gently. Even that gentle friction sent me over the edge into sheer orgasm. My moans echoed off the tile as I turned off the water and made a promise to myself to get laid tonight. 

Carli and Sabrina showed up promptly at nine and we went out. The club they'd been raving about was across town and crowded as hell when we got there. I had been silently complimenting myself in the cab because I thought I looked pretty good. Naturally my friends looked better, but they actually worked at this, for me it was a moments notice. When we actually got to the club, however, I felt like that little shy girl in the corner again. The girls were dressed to the nines in small mini skirts and barely-there tube tops with five inch spike heels. My skirt was about three inches above the knee, my top covered my stomach and shoulders and my heels were barely two inches. Oh well, I'd just make the best with what I could do. As we exited the cab, everyone turned to look at us, expecting more glamour than what we had to offer. The girls gave us those looks; you know the ones... the ones the cheerleaders in high school gave you as they passed you in the hallways. The, "We're better than you and always will be" looks. Whatever, I wasn't there for them.

After standing in line for what seemed like hours we were finally let into the building. The bass moved the floors and sent thrills up my legs. I loved it. Women were all over the place, but oddly, not many guys. The few there were being smothered in the embraces of three or more women. My heart sank and dreams of sex began to fade. We oozed our way to the bar to order drinks and scope out the dance floor. That's when I noticed the lone guy in the corner. He was lurking in the shadows, the only man in view who was not dripping with half-dressed women. He moved just then and I lost sight of him. For the next fifteen minutes I slammed down drink after drink as my friends were asked to dance. 

Suddenly Carli stumbled back over and grabbed my arm. "That guy's totally checking you out!" she yelled and pointed. The lone man I had seen earlier was now standing closer, staring at me with unnerving intensity. He was tall, blonde hair, light eyes, intense and beautiful. Uncomfortable with his gaze raping my body I turned back to Carli and yelled, "I'm going home. I'll talk to you later." She nodded and I forced my way back out into the cold night to hail a cab.

I got back home feeling even more exhausted then I had earlier, and fell right into bed. I left my window thrown open to cool off my warm drunken body. I woke up hours later, cool air blowing across my stomach. In a panic I ran to the window to close it. As I closed the window I felt arms slither around me and grab my wrists. I fought against my attacker, but to no avail, he wrestled me back to my bed and forced me down on it face first. "Don't," I whimpered, terrified out of all sanity. He laughed cruelly.

"Don't, what, angel?" he asked mockingly. 

"Don't... rape me." I breathed.

"Rape?" he said sounding comically surprised. "I would never. Trust me; by the time of penetration, you'll be begging me for it." He turned me around and stared at me. I blinked in surprise. It was the man from the club. The same intense eyes bored into my face as I struggled fruitlessly against him. Pulling me close he yanked off my shirt, his eyes roving over my naked body underneath. I pulled together automatically to cover my scars but he pulled me out of that position. He ran a hand over my scars gently, his eyes questioning. But not for long, he turned me around and trailed his lips gently over the back of my neck. I shuddered in spite of myself and felt my pussy moisten. 

"Stop," I begged him, "please stop." He responded by biting my shoulder and breathing, "No" into my ear. I could feel his cock press into my gently into my ass, could feel its hard warmth against me. He continued to alternately kiss and bite the back of my neck, shoulders, and lower back while caressing my tits with his rough hands. Finally he pulled me around and took a nipple into his mouth. Betrayed by my own body I felt myself arching back into his mouth, a moan escaping from me. He chuckled softly and bit down. Pleasure shot through my body in a direct line to my clit, which was currently on fire. He cradled me with one arm and pulled me towards him. With my hands now free I reached down to relieve the tension off my burning pussy. Instantly he pulled my hair back so hard I screamed, and was rewarded with a stinging slap across the face. He then sank his teeth into the tender flesh of my neck causing me to become faint from the pain. I instantly felt his erection become bigger, harder, barely contained by his slacks. Sensing this, he reached down and unsnapped his pants, unsheathing a beautiful cock. He wasn't exactly hung like a porn star, but he was big enough that my pussy became wet as anything and I could feel myself salivating.

He pulled my hair down until I was on my knees in front of him. "Suck my dick," he whispered, forcing my mouth to the soft skin of his cock. I shook my head violently and was rewarded with a slap across the face. Reluctantly I opened up and allowed his dick to slide into my mouth. He fucked my face hard, not caring how I gagged and sneering at the tears running down my face. Finally he pulled me up, turned me around, bent me over the bed and kicked my legs apart. I wanted his cock inside me so bad, but was too ashamed to admit it. Somehow, of course, he knew. "Whore," he hissed gripping my tits. I shook my head helplessly, but to no avail. He slammed his dick into me and I moaned in spite of myself. Waves of pleasure washed over me with each stroke so much that my knees became weak. "I knew you'd enjoy this, angel," he smirked without breaking his rhythm. I reached down to rub my clit and discovered that from this angle I could grab his balls as well. He moaned his approval as I massaged his balls while he continued to fuck me mercilessly. He wrapped his hands around my neck and squeezed just enough that I began to panic, clawing at his hands for air. He continued to fuck me and choke me, his balls slapping against my clit and eventually I got used to it and even began to enjoy it. My orgasm was looming and I showed him this by slamming my hips back into him forcing low guttural moans from his throat. "Fuck, you little slut," he whispered sounding approving. 

"Please," I whispered.

"Please, what, my little whore?" he asked. 

"Please cum inside me. I need you to cum inside me." I begged shamelessly, my voice ragged from holding back my pending orgasm.

"Hmm," he said. "Have you gotten off yet?" I shook my head. "Then cum with me, angel." I nodded and concentrated on contracting my pussy around his hard cock. "Mmm, little whore... I can feel your pussy squeezing me. I'm going to cum." I relaxed, letting myself get lost in the waves of intense pleasure rolling over me, as I felt the core of my orgasm fill my body. I screamed out loud as I came all over his dick, his semen mixing with my own juices. He moaned, deep in his throat, then pulled me around, yanked on my hair and once again forced his dick into my mouth. I cleaned him off, the bittersweet taste lingering on my tongue. 

He got dressed, smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes, not looking at me. He walked slowly over to me and kissed my mouth for the first time, his warm tongue invading the mouth he had just fucked. He slapped me lightly on the cheek, pulled me up so I was standing, leaning against him.

"I'll return soon," he promised pushing me back onto the bed, his cum dripping out of my swollen pussy.



Open Window



I climbed up to the window as I had done countless times, though not for a few years. Being that the window was on the second story, it had its complications, but luckily for me this particular window looked out on the roof of the patio in the back. Damien's form came into the room, and he slid the door shut behind him. Within a second, his shirt was off, and he was starting for his jeans.

Damien, easily, is the kind of guy girls would go crazy over. 24 years old, he had a perfect smile -- pearly white teeth, perfectly straight and even, the whole nine yards. It was coy, charming, mischievous, and heartwarming, sometimes all at the same time. He had a dimple in his chin, only adding to the overall charm. 

His hair was a huge focus of many. It was so black that it was almost blue, it did whatever he wanted it to, and looked good longer with the just-rolled-out-of-bed style or buzzed short when he was too lazy to deal with a barber. It was the kind girls just wanted to run their fingers through, and currently was set in the former style. 

The deep rumbling voice was a mark in his favor, giving him a bit of a mysterious/bad ass edge. He stood a bit over six feet and sported a perfectly chiseled body-six pack abs, strong arms, but he was lean like a swimmer rather than bulky. More than a few tattoos found their place on his arms, back and torso. Finally, the eyes they were bright green and full of emotion. The kind of eyes that could get a girl in trouble, and they only lit up further when he smiled.

I was more of what might be considered pretty in a plain sort of way -- if you could even count me as pretty at all. My dark brown reached past my shoulders, almost mid-back, but no one would ever know because it was always balled into an old lady bun. I was only about 5'5" and a bit underweight, on a good day maybe reaching 110lbs. I was a bit curvy decent ass and breasts that were a little out of proportion to my small frame again no one would ever know because I was always hiding in my clothes. I can't describe myself as toffee, or caramel, I'm more the color of a brown paper bag. My eyes were my favorite feature, dark brown with flecks of gold and eye lashes thick like a mascara commercial, and I had been told more than once that my smile could light up a room. It was just a little past my 20th birthday.

Since I was still perched outside his window and he was still undressing, I decided I did not want to be taken for a peeping Tom and tapped on the window. Damien looked up from his undone jeans and squinted towards the window. Even knowing he wouldn't be able to see me until he turned the light out in his room, I waved, thinking who the hell else would be perched on a rooftop in the middle of the night- on a night in the middle of winter no less. Finally, he turned off the light and was able to get a good look at me. One of his charming smiles spread across his lips causing me to smile in return. 

After refastening his jeans, he rushed towards the window, unlatched it and threw it open; I fell through it and straight into his arms. "What are you doing here?" He asked in his deep rumble. "Aren't you freezing? I think you've graduated to using the door."

"Hell yeah I'm freezing." I responded with a bit of a laugh. "I'm not ready for the door hurry up and close the window."

He reached behind me and slammed it shut while I rubbed my hands together for heat "Come here." He turned to me and wrapped his arms around me again. It had been years since I felt a hug from him, and it was a sensation I missed every day. Even better, his body was warm against my cold skin. Damien let out a sigh. "It's so good to see you, Nikki."

"You, too, Damien. Jack ass I still can't believe you left this town without me." We both laughed, pulling out of our hug. "How are you?"

His smile faltered, and what was left was habit without a hint of truth or joy. "I'm good. I'm ok, hanging in there."

"Don't lie to me, Damien. I didn't just climb on top of a frozen fucking rooftop for that. There's no way you're okay." Damien's mother had been killed by a drunk driver less than a week earlier. He was the youngest of three brothers and easily the most fragile, though he tried to play it off that this wasn't true and was constantly trying to live up to David's- his oldest brother's- "accomplishments" and tough guy attitude. 

Damien sat on the bed, looking down at his hands. After a few quiet seconds, I sat down next to him, resisting the urge to curl into a ball or wrap his blankets around myself. The bitter cold was clinging to my clothes. I put my hand on his arm, trying to be comforting. He pulled away sharply, with a slight gasp. "Sorry." He chuckled a bit. "You're hands are freezing. Get out of that coat it's keeping in all the cold air." Jack glanced around then picked up a fleece blanket. "Here, take this blanket." I shook out of my snow covered coat and pushed my shoes off my feet. He wrapped a blanket around my shoulders as I curled into myself. I guess I didn't have to resist that urge for too long, he must've been reading my mind. Damien kept both of his arms around me, rubbing his hands up and down my arms through the blanket trying to get me warm. 

I caught his eye while he looked down at me and we both smiled. "I've missed you like crazy you know." Silence followed my deepest sincerity. It was the one absolute certainty in my life. He stopped rubbing, though his arms stayed around me, more out of lack of movement than conscious choice. His eyes did not catch mine again. Rather than remain in the nothingness, I broke the tension with a repeat accusation. "You always promised you'd take me with you when you got out of this rotten ass neighborhood."

He slid away from me and picked his shirt up off the floor, beginning to pull it back on. "Nikki you know I would've taken you with me if I could've but you had school, and I didn't even know where I was going to end up. I was running around the east coast with some shitty band trying to pretend I was about to be a rock star." His voice was soft. He wasn't growing annoyed or short tempered, but merely stating what he saw as facts. 

"I could have been the world's best traveling fan." I said with a smirk.

"School."

"And when did you ever care about something as mundane as school, Damien?"

"Since my best friend turned out to be one of the smartest people in this neighborhood. Someone who could actually make something of herself if she stayed at it. Someone who could do better than what this neighborhood had to offer her. Someone utterly brilliant in every way. Someone who deserved more." 

"Man you sure know how to flatter a girl."

He looked me straight in the eye as he spoke, but as soon as he was done he looked away. His eyes searched around the room. My stomach flipped at his admitting to thinking of me as his best friend. I was nearly four years younger than him, but from the time I was 12 and he first moved to the neighborhood, I spent more time with him than anyone else. 

I was 14 the first time I crawled through his window, my parents constantly too doped up or drunk to notice or care that I spent my nights sneaking into the bedroom of a 18 year old boy. Of course, any concern they would have had would have been misplaced. He and his brothers were the siblings I had never had. They teased me and looked out for me. I imagine his mother even knew that I spent nights there, one of us sleeping on the floor; nothing ever got past her. She allowed it, though. I suppose because she felt bad for me my parents' antics were notorious. Nothing had ever gone beyond friendship between me and Damien. 

I hadn't noticed until he sat down next to me again that I had allowed myself to disappear into a day dream, remembering the past. When he looked at me again, I couldn't help but smile. "So, where did you go? What did you do? I want to hear everything." 

He began to tell me about everything he'd done in the past few years. Occasionally I would press him for more details, or call him out on obvious fabrications. We poked fun at ridiculous things that had happened, and I scolded him for any time he got himself into trouble. All the while we kept our voices down as to not bother any of his brothers in the house. It was exactly how things were before. We even sat cross-legged like children across from each other on the bed. 

It finally came time for me to ask him the question that had been on my mind, though the answer was something I was not particularly anxious to receive. "So, how long are you staying?"

All of the laughter went out of his eyes, and it became obvious that the answer was something he was not anxious to give. "I don't know, but I'm definitely not leaving until the end of the trial. If he gets off then me and my brothers will..."

"Damien." I wanted to reach out to him, but held back.

He shook his head. "Nikki, he killed my mom. How could we let that go if he doesn't go to jail?" His eyes began to shine with the onset of tears and endless pain. "She was crossing the damn street..."

"I know."

"No you don't!" I was taken aback. He had never raised his voice toward me before, but when I saw the tear fall from his eye I knew that he wasn't truly angry with me. He took a deep breath, wiping the water from his eyes, and looked at me. "I'm sorry." Damien moved toward me and shifted himself around so that he sat directly next to me with his back and mine sharing the headboard of the bed. There was nothing else to be said at that moment. So we sat in silence. 

I looked down and noticed that I was half under the covers of his bed. Strangely enough, I had no recollection of pulling them over myself. "You're staying tonight, right?" Again my stomach lurched, though I tried to give nothing away in my face. "I mean, for old time's sake." He clarified. This only slightly lessened the excitement going through me at the thought of him wanting me there. 

"I guess you know no one will miss me at home." We sat up for nearly an hour after that, talking, joking, and catching up some more. We avoided any more serious conversation, the closest thing being reminiscing about life before he went away and the good times we'd had with his mom. 

At some point he picked out one of his t-shirts and an old pair of shorts for me to change into. They were both way too big for me, but they smelled like him and were much more comfortable than my jeans so I was glad to change. The entire time, I was very aware of his body next to mine. He was warm, as always, and sat a bit closer to me than would have been necessary on his full sized bed. A few times, his arm would brush mine, sending a jolt through my heart, but mostly I felt the rumble of his voice through the mattress.

He was just finishing up a story when my head began to droop and my eyes grew heavy. His words turned to mush in my mind. I was almost lost from consciousness when I felt his body move away from mine on the bed. Most logically, I thought that he was moving to the floor, as one of us had always done when the other fell asleep. Instead, his arms moved under my body and slid me down until I was flat on the bed, no longer propped up against the wall. His touch was gentle. He pulled the blankets further up around me and then, with a moment's hesitation, climbed back onto the bed, staying above the covers. 

"You know your virtue is safe with me it's safe for us to share the covers." I yawned.

The movement of Damien getting settled pulled me out of sleep a little, but I was quickly returning. Damien's breath steadied, and I assumed he was already out. Then, as if making a last minute decision, he rolled to face me. My eyes were closed and my breathing was even; all signs pointed toward my being asleep. 

He ran a finger across my face, anyway, his breath warm against my cheek. "I missed you, too, Nikki." He whispered. "More than I could ever explain. I'm so glad you're here." With those words, we were both taken by sleep. His hand still on my skin.

In the morning, I was awakened by the sound of a door opening. Only the tip of my head was exposed from under the covers. The door closed again. My guess was David had come in to rouse his lazy little brother out of bed and was confused to find the form of a girl in bed with him. Lifting my head, I saw the clock. It was only a bit past eight in the morning. The thought had barely passed through my mind that I should get up before my head was back on the pillow and I was asleep. About an hour later, I woke up again, this time ready to rise from bed. I picked my clothes from the night before and exited the room going to the bathroom. I started a hot shower and stepped in, enjoying the felling of the water against my skin. Being used to a very limited water supply, and limited time, I washed quickly. 

I was just rinsing the last of the shampoo from my hair when the door opened. "Hey." David's voice rang against the walls. "I don't know what Damien told you but this isn't a flop house so when you're done you're out."

I laughed a bit to myself. "Oh, come on Davey don't be like that. You really think Damien picked up some chick and let her stay the night. Very unlikely." Finished with my shower, I shut the water off and twisted my hair back into a bun. 

"Davey?" He muttered to himself. "Listen, chick, I don't know... Oh, shit. Nikki?"

I slipped my head out from behind the shower curtain, reaching for the towel against the wall. "Who else?" I gave him a smile as I wrapped the towel around myself and stepped out of the tub. 

"I'll be damned." He looked at me squarely. "I should've known you'd be showing up here. I like the way you only come around when his ass shows up. I'd give you a hug, but you're a bit under dressed."

We both laughed as I began to dry myself, carefully not baring anything that wasn't meant to be bared. It was a magical gift most females seemed to be born with. "Oh come on, Davey, you know you can't keep your hands off me." For the last few years he had been around, before all the brothers split, he and I had joked around about such things. 

As he was over ten years my senior (me being freshly 18 at the time that they left), it was just meaningless banter. Even now as I stood almost naked in front of him, fresh from the shower, I meant it nothing more as a joke and knew that he saw it only as such. 

"Come to think of it, you are over 18 now. I guess that makes me less of a creep when I have dirty thoughts of you." I lifted up the nearest object, a tissue box, and threw it at him. He caught it with a laugh and pretended to throw it back, nearly causing me to lose my towel.

David started to walk away, but turned back at the last moment. "Hey, uh, how's he doing? He was always such a momma's boy he's taking this the hardest."

"You know, David, it wouldn't kill you to be easy with him. He thinks the world of you and just wants to be as tough as you and Darren. Half the shit he does is to impress you or prove himself to you. And as for how he is, I have no idea. He won't talk about it."

"Not even to you?"

"Not a word."

"Well, if you can't get that out of him, at least see if you can be a bit more successful at getting him out of bed"

"Sure thing, now get out of here. Wait will you find me a brush or comb. I need to get dressed and run a comb through this mess." He started to make a joke, but chose to leave the room instead. 

Then, right before he closed the door, he turned back one last time. "You know the other half is for you, right?" My expression showed that I didn't understand. "Half the shit he does is to prove he's good enough for you. The kid loves you." Then he was gone. 

I got dressed, put up my hair and returned to Damien's room. When I saw him, I couldn't help but think about hearing him admit to missing me and then his brother saying that Damien loved me. The thought was silly, though. Love me like a sister maybe, but definitely not anything more than that. 

He was still sleeping, sprawled out on his back with an arm over his eyes, blocking out the reflection of the sun off the snow. I went and sat next to him, poking him in the side. "Hey sleepy head. You brother has charged me with the task of getting your butt out of bed."

He groaned at me and started to roll over, but I grabbed his arm. "None of that, now." He stuck his tongue out at me. "Very mature. How old are you, again?" 

"24 and a half." I continued to poke him. Damien grabbed my hand quickly to keep me from continuing. I was so distracted by the electrifying feel of his hand on mine that I almost didn't hear his next words. "How's this for immaturity." He latched onto me then and started a tickle assault on my ribs. I squirmed and fought against his arms, but there was no way I was going to be any match for him. Not that I'd actually want to get away. I loved the feeling of his hands on me and the closeness of his body. For a second, I managed to tickle him back -- I had always loved the fact that a big "bad ass" like him was ticklish -- and he lost his grip on me allowing me to start to roll away. That, obviously, didn't last for long. 

With my back to him, he wrapped his arms around my middle and pulled me on top of him, pinning my back against his stomach and really attacking my sides. There was absolutely nothing I could do but thrash back and forth and laugh, trying to catch my breath and trying to not kick him in the balls. A minute or two passed, and he was not letting up. "Stop! Stop, you win." I cried. 

Finally, he stopped tickling, but did not let me move. I was panting and my chest heaved. "No more questioning my maturity?"

"None, absolutely not. You are the most mature person on the planet." He grabbed at my ribs quickly. "Ah! What?"

"Your sarcasm is unappreciated."

"Okay. Okay! No more questioning your maturity, and no more trying to get you out of bed for David if it can be avoided. I'll just leave that to him from now on."

I looked down toward Damien and his face changed to one of contemplation. "That actually sounds like a terrible idea. There tends to be cold water involved on David's days, and that's when he's being nice. It'd probably be better if you kept with the wake up calls. This one was actually quite effective, not to mention enjoyable." He slipped me to the side so that I slid between him and the wall, my body still pressed up against his. His arm was underneath me and he was also breathing heavily. 

He rolled a bit, then, to look at me. My heart was racing, no longer because of the tickling. Our faces were only a few inches apart, and he looked straight into my eyes. For the longest second of my life, we both lay there, breathing heavily and looking into each other's eyes. My gaze dropped to his lips. Too soon, he broke the moment. "I should, uh, probably get up." With that, he slid his arm out from under me and moved away, getting off the bed. "I'm going to shower." And he left. 

It would be an understatement to say that I was disappointed, but, with a heavy sigh, I accepted defeat and got up.

I spent the next week at the Hawkins' house. I cooked and cleaned trying to help where I could. They went out every day back and forth from court and the jail answering all kinds of questions. Sometimes David would tell Damien to stay at the house, which Damien took as them treating him like a baby, but I knew that it was just David's way of showing that he cared and didn't want him to get hurt or have to keep reliving that moment over and over again.

One of those nights, Damien and I were alone in the house. I sat looking through the small collection of movies under the television while he paced, speaking -- to me or to himself I'm still not sure. "This isn't fair. She was my mom, too. Fuck, I should have just ignored David and gone anyway. This is stupid; I'm going." He grabbed his coat from the side of the sofa and started toward the door. 




Open Window



I was on my feet quickly, "Damien, wait." He paused in a way that told me he was still set on walking out the door, and that I didn't have much time before he did. "I know you don't want to be left behind, but you have to know they aren't trying to exclude you they're just trying to protect you. I can't imagine what kinds of questions they have to be asking if David would prefer you just stayed put for now. You'll be involved when it's time for court or maybe the guy will just plead guilty and save everyone the heart ache" It was barely working due to the fact that his body was still angled toward the door. 

"Besides," I decided on a change of tactic, "I know the real reason you want to go." He gave me a quizzical look, showing he didn't know what I meant. "You know it's my night to pick a movie. And you're afraid to watch my choice." As if to prove myself, I held up the DVD case of a scary movie which had just come out.

"I'm not scared of some movie."

"Prove it." My words held the air of a childhood dare. Damien did not like horror movies. Regardless, he put his coat back down and rested himself on the couch. Satisfied at my success, I put the DVD in the player and took up a seat beside him, turning off the last light in the room as I did. 

Within twenty minutes, Damien was clinging to a pillow in front of him, eyes glued to the screen. A few times, I had felt the sofa shift as he jumped when I screamed. I tried to pretend that he hadn't moved closer to me, but after the last dissonant chord and kill in the movie, it was unmistakable how much closer he was. The skin of his arm was touching mine.

"Shit!" His jump made me laugh. He turned and looked at me, obviously unhappy with me, though playfully. "You think that's funny?" I shook my head, still chuckling. "Oh, you're real convincing. Get over here." Without warning, his arms were around me, and he was pulling me closer until I was completely up against him. He began trying to pull my bun and ponytail loose. "Is it funny now?"

I wasn't about to give up without a fight. Being undeniably skinny, I was able to slide myself out from his arms and grab a pillow, striking him with it. "No weapons!" He snatched the pillow from my hands and started hitting me back, while I screamed for him to stop. 

We were both laughing as I ducked and he swung. With a final lunge, I grabbed the pillow, but knocked us too far off balance. Together, we fell from the couch, me landing on top of him. "Oh, Damien, I'm sorry! Are you okay? You didn't hit your head, did you?" I leaned closer to him, trying to get a better look, which proved near impossible in the darkness. The television still provided our only light source. He was laughing -- a beautiful sound -- before letting his body relax. His hands came up and rested on my lower back. 

Our eyes were locked, our faces inches apart. "Nikki." My chest was flat against his, enough that I could feel his heart beating. I couldn't breathe, but wondered if he could feel how my heart raced. Throughout the week, eight years of pent up emotions, feelings and yearnings had been coming back. 

This is just Damien. 

I tried thinking logically. He didn't want me in that way. Physically, he was everything a girl could want, and deep down he was sweet and soft-hearted. I was plain and ordinary. Not to mention that he had to be way more experienced with girls than I was with guys. There was no way he wanted me. But there he was, holding me while I was just inches from him. "Nikki, I..." A scream on screen caused us both to jump, and effectively ended the moment. I never found out the end of that sentence. 

Later that night, after his brothers returned with nothing too big to report, he and I climbed the stairs up to his room. He closed the door behind us as he always did. Reaching into the hamper, I pulled out a shirt and pair of shorts he had given me to wear. Though I had brought my own pajamas, I preferred wearing his. As I turned around, I saw his back to me; he stood without a shirt and was slipping down his jeans. I had to force my eyes away from him before turning and pulling off my own clothes in favor of his. The shirt was long and fell a bit past my ass. If I were alone, it would be all I would wear since I hated having pants on while I slept. All the same, I pulled the shorts on. 

Walking over to the bed, I pulled back the covers and crawled underneath, moving around to try to bring some warmth to the sheets. He followed soon after and got under the sheets as well. "Is it just me, or has it been extra cold in here the past couple nights?" He asked. I chuckled, trying to keep my thoughts on kittens and fluffy bunnies. "Do you mind?" He asked moving a tiny bit closer.

"Of course not, it's your bed." I was on my side with my back to him, trying to ignore the distance between us. 

After a moment, the bed shuffled as he moved, rolling towards me. Lightly, he rested his hand on my side; the warmth of his fingers soaked through the cotton of my shirt. My brain was at a frantic cross-road. Turn and face him? Pretend to be sleeping? Wait to see if he does anything else? Turning only my head toward him, I smiled slightly. "If you're trying to steal my warmth, you're going to be terribly disappointed."

He chuckled, and his deep rumble caused the bed to vibrate under me. "I very much doubt that you could disappoint me," What did that mean? "But I actually figured you might be cold." It wasn't that hard to figure; I was always cold. His hand slid forward, following the line of my arm to where my hand rested in front of me. "Freezing," he commented. My heart was racing. It took everything I had to keep my breathing steady despite the fact that my skin was on fire where he touched me. 

He slid the tiniest bit closer to me, but was near enough that I could feel traces of his breath on my neck. "Roll over." His voice was soft and undemanding. I rolled toward him.

Taking my cold hands in his, he rubbed them before bringing them to his lips and exhaling warm air between his palms. My eyes moved from our hands to his eyes, back and forth. "Any better?" He asked between bursts of warm air. 

With a pleased smile, I nodded. "It feels good." He stopped breathing on my hands, but continued to clutch them. My stomach was doing flips, and it took every ounce of self-control I had to keep my breathing steady. There were goose bumps all over my body. 

"Can I, uh... Can I ask you a question, Nikki?"

His voice was timid in a way that I wasn't used to hearing it. I tried to ignore the concern it automatically sent through me. "Of course, you can ask me anything; you know that."

Though he smiled slightly at my words, the bit of worry in his eyes did not lessen. "How many guys have you been with?"

Whatever I may have been expecting, that was not it. "What?"

He moved as if about to turn away from me. "I'm sorry. It's stupid; I shouldn't have asked."

"Wait, no. I-I just... I'm not sure what you mean. I've never had a boyfriend."

"But you're not a virgin." I knew his tone well enough to know that this wasn't a question, nor was it a bitter accusation. 

Shaking my head, I met his eyes. "Kinda."

"Kinda? How does that work?"

"Well there was this guy and wait you already know what happened it's still that one time." Most of the girls in the neighborhood had some seriously high numbers, but I still felt ashamed. If I had had my way, it would onlt be one, but the one I wanted was the one I would never have.

Damien was shaking his head slightly. "That was like two years ago." Sex had fallen under the "tell each other everything" category of our friendship growing up. He knew the second I attempted that first time. He knew how scared and reluctant I had been. He knew how much the guy pushed and pressured even though I barely knew him. He knew I decided I didn't want to anymore. He did not, however, know anything when it came to that same guy showing up at school with a broken nose and bruised ribs. 

"I retired."

"Retired?"

"No sex at all." His brow furrowed, as if he were trying to understand exactly what I was saying. In truth the one time I had even tried was an attempt to get my mind off of him and that was a disaster. With him gone, that was the only place my mind ever went, wondering where and how he was. "Damien, you beat the shit out of that one guy and..."

"That guy was an ass hole."

"...and roughed up the ones that I told you tried to hit on me."

"David did some that too." Although this was true, I still gave him a look. "You were too good for any of them."

"Are you shocked?"

"A little shocked I guess? I just figured with me out of the way, guys would be seizing the opportunity to go out with you without the threat of... you know... me or one of my brothers..."

"No guy has ever wanted to go out with me, Damien. They only ever wanted to hook up. Like I said, I've never had a boyfriend."

"That's not right. You deserved a guy who would take you out and... I don't know... dance with you and care about you and who would look at you like you are the only girl in the world. It's not right that you never got that. You really should have, Nik." His voice was soft and apologetic.

"Damien, its fine. I never would have wanted to date any of those guys anyway. I was much better off without one of them as a boyfriend."

"I've never had a girlfriend."

"Bullshit!"

"Seriously. And I know what you're going to say. That one, what's her face, from a few years before I left, but you know damn well that girl was a crazy stalker." I wanted to point out that he'd slept with her anyway, but I knew that he had his reasons for that. "I've had sex with a lot of girls, Nikki. A lot. I'm not very proud of that. It's disgusting, really, to think of how many girls I've... but I needed some amount of control in my life. It gave me control. No heartbreak. No drama. No vulnerability. It was..."

"Damien I know. You don't have to explain it." His eyes softened with the smallest trace of a 'thank you'. Their father used to beat him and his brothers and his mother and the boys were temporarily in foster care until him mom was able to get away from him. He's never gone into detail about what happened while in foster care but I think there was more than physical abuse going on.

"I just want you to know that none of those girls meant anything to me, if they did I never would have slept with them after only knowing them for a few days... or hours. Maybe I wouldn't have slept with them at all, because I was just using them anyway. If I cared I would have stuck around afterward. Meaningless sex is easy, but attachment and commitment, having sex with someone because I care, the thought is terrifying. I'd really have to love someone, and I have yet to do that. Have meaningful sex, I mean. It was like... the lights always had to be off..."

His words made my head spin. "Damien, why exactly are we talking about this?"

For a moment he didn't say anything, just stared past me. Then our eyes met. "I've been bored."

"So you ask me about my sex life?"

A sly smile played across his lips, and almost sent shivers down my spine. How could any smile be so amazing? "Just wanted to make sure I'm caught up on my beat downs." This didn't quite fit, but he sounded content, and I didn't want to break him from that. 

My fingers were still cradled between the palms of his hands, and this realization filled me with warmth. "Thank you."

He caught where I was looking and gave a smirk. "Hands feeling better?"

"A bit but I meant thank you for beating the shit out of Brandon Robinson. You were right; I wasn't ready and he almost stole my first time from me. It shouldn't have been with him."

The words caught in his throat as he began to speak, but stopped just before anything could reach his tongue. With a deep breath, he began to trace his fingers against the back of my hand. "Who should it have been?"

Answering with the full truth was not an option. I wouldn't allow myself to ruin his closeness with honesty. This was friendly conversation, and I was about to make it personal. He should have been my first. First and only. I settled on the response of, "someone I love."

"So you really didn't fall in love one time in the last two years?" The tone in his voice was close to concern.

"No. I wouldn't even say there was someone I really cared about, to be honest. Seriously there was no boyfriend. I don't think my mother's reputation really helped me either. I'm sure guys figured I must do what she does."

"Your mom, I'm sorry. That's probably why I got a bit over zealous with finding the guys who hit on you. I wasn't sure if they were sincere." I tried not to show my disappointment that it wasn't because of jealousy. "So... mostly a virgin. You know what they say don't you? It's like an earring hole and if you don't put anything in it the hole will close."

"Ha ha ha I didn't know you had become a gynecologist as well as a rock star." He smiled. "The one guy was such a disaster I couldn't risk it again. I mean he didn't even see me naked and his pants were just pulled below his knees. I could have been anyone he couldn't have cared less. When I decide to do it again I'd like for it to be personal. Moaning a guy's name, looking him in the eyes, hearing him moan my name as if he actually cares what it is. I want to hear a guy tell me he loves me and actually believe him, you know?"

The next part came out without the permission of my rational mind. "Plus, what I wanted or rather who I wanted wasn't anything I could find around here."

"So you're hands are warm now, what about your arms. It's freezing in here, isn't it?" The subject change was quick and jarring, but I let it happen. He wouldn't have done it unless he truly needed to, and I tried -- for the sake of my sanity -- to not think about why he needed to. 

His hands slid up and down my arms, warming me up a bit, though all the blood seemed to be flowing up toward my cheeks. "You're always so cold, Nik. I don't know how you stand it. Come here." With minimal effort, he pulled me closer to him until I was snuggled against his chest. 

Every inch of his body was warm, and it was one fact I had always loved about him. His fingers traced down my spine, giving me goose bumps. "I thought you said you were cold."

"Oh," he pulled away from me the tiniest bit. "If it makes you uncomfortable I can..."

"As long as you're doing everything in your power to warm me up, you can sleep where ever you want." Pressing my nose against the base of his neck, right above the collar of his t-shirt, I felt the cold instantly disappear. It was all enough to cause me to ease closer to sleep quickly. "God, you're so warm, Damien. I love it. You're so amazing." My words were barely comprehensible between my tired slur and my face being pressed against him. 

An awkward chuckle shook his chest. There was a small silence before his hand slipped downward across my spine until he reached the hem of my shirt. Slowly, he curled his fingers underneath it and moved upward, finally resting his hand on my lower back. I gasped lightly before letting out a small sigh of approval. The warmth was indescribable. It seemed to shock my whole body, moving downward until moisture forming beneath the shorts he'd let me borrow. 

Kittens and fluffy bunnies. Kittens and fluffy bunnies. Cute things. Brotherly love. He pulled me a bit closer. "Goodnight, Nikki." He whispered his breath tickling my ear as his fingers tickled my back.

"'Night, Damien."

Again, as with the first night, I lay there falling deeper into sleep and almost reached it before he leaned closer to me, his lips close to my ear. "Sixty-three." He whispered. He was answering the question he had asked me. It was a lot, an unbelievably high number, but far from an unfamiliar one. 

It was sixty-three when he left. 

Toward the end of the week, I was in the kitchen helping out with some dishes when David came down the stairs. "Nikki, come here a second." He called. I finished rinsing off the plate and followed him up the stairs into his mother's room, where he was sleeping during his stay. "I want to talk to you about something." He closed the door behind me, motioned for me to sit on the bed, which I did, and sat facing him. 

"We're going out tonight, and it's probably going to get bad. We found out the guy's family hired some high priced attorney. Those guys are seriously trying to get him off with just a fine or some bullshit. Damien wants to come when we go see the lawyer and we're definitely going to make a trip to see his family and I don't think he'll stay put another day here while we go and deal with this. He might see and hear some stuff that he might not recover from. He's already having such a hard time I don't know how much more he can deal with."

"David, what the hell are you..."

"Just listen, it's not illegal but he's going to need you tonight to really be there for him."

"What can it really be that bad?"

"Nikki you have no idea what it's been like. They show pictures and go over their reports and briefs with horrendous detail and I don't want Damien to have any part of it, but if he's there he's going to have to deal with what happened and I know he's not ready for all of the details. Then this shit with the family I can't imagine what's going to go down with that, but trust me something is going to happen. I really need you to be here for him."

"I don't even know what to say David."

"Nikki this is about our mother." His words were gentle yet firm.

"I know. I know." It took me a second to get my thoughts in order. "I'll be here. I'll wait up, no matter how late you get back. Just get back, okay? Try not to anything crazy. Please, for me."

He embraced me then, his arms not feeling nearly as good around me as his youngest brother's, but it was a comforting hug nonetheless. "Damien is one lucky bastard. I wish I had a girl like you waiting up for me." He said it with complete sincerity, and then followed it with, "tell me, when are you going to stop sleeping in his bed and come stay a night in mine? I could show you a thing or two Damien doesn't even know is possible."

"Oh, Davey, always so damn charming. But I just don't know if you can compete where it truly matters most. Sometimes you need more than just the 'motion of the ocean'." I held my hands apart about ten inches, giving him a joking wink and standing to leave. "David," I stopped just before I reached the door and turned back to him. "What you said last week about Damien..."

"About him loving you?"

"Yeah... I... Did you mean..."

"No, I didn't mean like a brother. I love you like a brother, despite how much I tease you and whatnot, that's the only way I see you. He loves you like you are the only girl in the world worth knowing. He just doesn't know how to show it. Next to him, you're the one who knows best how he grew up. He never saw a functional relationship in his life. When we left here, you were all he would talk about."

"He was touring with his band. There must have been plenty of girls around who..."

"Who wanted nothing more than to get into a musician's pants? Of course there were. There are skanks and cheap whores everywhere. And no, Damien didn't pay any attention to them. No matter how much I'd tease him for being queer, he never got with any of them. 

"And, I mean, I don't know why he'd pick you over them. You won't even wear a damn dress let alone something sexy always with your librarian's bun. He must think the world of you." My heart was leaping in my chest. Though I did everything I could to contain myself. Damien had really meant the number when he'd said it. I gave David little more than a flickering smile before walking out of the room. 

That night was one of the longest of my life, though in actuality they didn't get back as late as I had expected. The clock was only a bit past eleven when Damien's bedroom door opened and he stepped in, closing the door again behind him. He didn't look at me but shrugged off his coat and sat down, starting to untie his shoes. 




Open Window



The snow that hadn't yet melted from the warmth of the house was scattered throughout his hair. "Damien?" I said my voice was smaller than I ever remember it being. "Damien?" I moved toward where he sat on the bed, reaching out to touch his arm. "Da..." He pulled away once my hand touched him, but I only moved closer. "Damien, please." This time he let me rest my hand on his forearm. In that moment, he turned toward me just enough that I could see his eyes were swelling with tears. 

I could think of nothing good to say to him, and was just beginning to mentally kick myself for being a bad friend when he turned and looked me straight in the eyes. "We went to the district attorney's office first and they went through as much of the information as they had available and it all seemed ok to me. Then we went to see the lawyer the guy's family hired. He's costing them $500 an hour. That's the kind of defense that gets you a sealed record and a fine."

"We were in the office and it's like the lawyer was trying to push us. He all but told us the guy was getting off and we should be grateful if they don't sue us for pain and suffering. And we shouldn't even think about a civil suit because he'll have their finances so tied up that we should hope our grandchildren won't still be in litigation." He was trying to hold back, though a few tears still managed to break free. 

"When we went to see the family I thought David and Darren were going to kill them. I was sure the police were going to be called. They had absolutely no remorse. Nikki it was worse than I could've imagined." Damien fell against my chest, wrapping his arms around my middle. I hugged his head, the only part of him in a position for me to hug. For the longest time, we just sat that way. Eventually I started to run my fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness as well as his closeness. 

After a few moments, he spoke again. "Nikki, I don't know what I expected. I don't know how I'm supposed to hold up in court. I always assumed a case like this would be cut and dry. I never figured an episode of law and order.

"David it'll all work out. David will make sure your mother gets justice. He won't let this go until he gets his way. You know that about him. See all those times he really was just trying to keep you safe."

He spoke against my chest through sobs. "Do you think I'm horrible if I want the man that killed my mother dead? The DA said this wasn't his first DUI. This guy is reckless and if he had been properly dealt with those previous times my mother could still be alive."

"You're not a bad person. You loved your mother and you want justice. Don't be so hard on yourself you're not the first person to wish someone were dead. What this man did was unforgiveable and hopefully whatever you guys said to his family will start to sink in and they'll do what's right. "I feel so weak," he interjected, pushing himself away from me. "I can't believe I'm so pathetic."

"You are a good person and brave to deal with what you're going through and still being able to function."

"You're such a liar."

"Yeah, and you're a fucking douche bag, but I don't point it out all the time." The statement had its desired effect. He stared at me blankly for a second and then began to laugh, and it was a beautiful sound. My heart melted in my chest and I wished for nothing more than to be with him the way I'd always dreamed. 

It took a moment for his laughing to subside, and when he resurfaced he hugged me. "Thank you for that." I resisted the urge to tell him I would be here to call him a douche bag whenever he needed, and instead hugged him tightly in return. "What do you say we get out of here? I don't care where we go, just get out for a bit."

"Okay." I stood up and looked at the duffel bag of clothing I had brought from home that sat on his floor. "Let me change and we can go." He nodded and walked out of the room, probably off to let David know that we'd be going. 

I riffled through the bag and found what I was looking for towards the bottom, where I kept the clothes I was pretty sure I would not end up wearing. Slipping out of my sweat pants, t-shirt and cotton undies, I pulled on a black lacy panties and skipped the bra my boobs were perky enough to get away with it. Over it I slid on the only dress I owned. It was black and fell mid-thigh. The top was a loose halter that fell low in the front almost to my belly button one wrong move and someone was getting flashed. Finally, I put on my boots which, reached almost to my knee. 

There was no mirror in the room for me to look into, which was probably good as it would have made me feel foolish to see myself dressed in such a way. I let my hair down and ran my fingers through it hoping it looked decent. I blindly added some lip gloss, eyeliner and mascara and left the room. 

David sat in the living room at the bottom of the stairs. He looked up at me as I came down and did a bit of a double take. "Damn," was all he managed to get out. 

"Don't you dare laugh at me?"

Unknown to me, Darren was also in the room. "Whoa, Nikki, you're a girl?"

"Very funny."

"A damn sexy girl, look at you! Come here." David stood up and motioned for me to come toward him. He spun me around and looked at me from all angles. "I stand much corrected. I now have no doubt in my mind why that little brother of mine would want you." My cheeks flushed and all I could manage in return for his compliment was a smile. Without warning he looked down at my ass, "are you wearing underwear?" He whispered in my ear. I slapped him in the arm. "What?! It doesn't look like... you're wearing something lacy under there, aren't you? No bra though right?"

I had to stand on my tip toes to get my lips next to his ear. "Don't be jealous, Davey." 

Just then I noticed Damien standing in the door way to the kitchen. His mouth sat slightly open and he was staring straight at me, his eyes moving up and down my frame. "Wow." He whispered, barely audible. My heart jumped.

"So jealous." David teased behind me, pushing me toward the kitchen and patting my ass lightly. "Damien! You better get going before she comes to her senses and puts her jeans back on."

I stepped closer to Damien. "Ready?"

We went to a bar in the neighborhood, the kind with pool tables and dancing. The entire walk there, he barely spoke. Every few minutes he would look down at me, opening his mouth as if to speak, but would end up saying nothing. 

My legs were starting to freeze by the time we reached the bar, making the warmth of the room amazing. The inside was fairly crowded, some people sitting at the bar, a good number dancing near the speaker system and a few scattered others playing pool. I wasn't much for pool, as Damien was well aware, having tried to teach me several times when we were younger and always failing. 

We stood near the doorway for a moment before Damien leaned down to speak in my ear over the bump of the music. "Do you want to dance or something?" I nodded in agreement, removing my coat and hanging it on the guest rack. Damien had a zip up sweater on over his black t-shirt but he left that on. 

He led me between the pool tables and to the dance floor with his hand on the small of my back. My head was swimming; his touch gave me goose bumps. Soon we were in the middle of the floor, completely surrounded by others dancing to the music. 

At first, I felt that I must have looked foolish, with this damn dress on, but I just swayed my hips to the music and smiled when I saw that Damien was watching me. We were close, but not touching. I came into more contact with the other people around me that I did him.

About half way through the second song, he leaned down towards me, placing his hands on my sides as he did to pull me closer. "You look amazing tonight." His lips just barely brushed my ear as he said it. The sensation was almost more than I could take. Every inch of my body tingled; the sound of his voice alone was enough to send chills down my spine. A smile was all I could manage in reply. 

He kept his hands on my sides as we danced in rhythm with each other, our eyes locked together the entire time. I traced my fingers along his arms, thinking about how amazing it felt when they were around me. Biting my bottom lip, it was all but impossible to suppress a smile.

I lost track of the number of songs that had gone by when he slid his hands lower to rest on my hips. In response, I wrapped my hands around his upper arms, causing us to dance much closer while still looking into the other's eyes. Our hips ground together, getting me more excited by the second. Just as I was thinking I couldn't take much more of it, he leaned down against my ear again. "I'll be right back, I've got to..." He smirked awkwardly "...bathroom. Are you okay here?"

I nodded with a smile, "I'll be fine." Giving my hips a tiny squeeze, Damien walked away from me, stopping only briefly to look back. I couldn't help but get a little giddy. 

Only a few seconds passed when another guy walked up behind me and started dancing. "Hey there, sweetie," he said, "how about I help you have a good time? Girl like you shouldn't be out all alone." His breath was on the back of my neck as he placed a hand on my side, where Damien's had been not long before. 

I tried to pull away from him, but he held tight, keeping me close to his body. "No thanks. I'm not alone."

"Well, if he were any good, he never would have left a thing like you all by your lonesome." He ground himself against me, causing my heart to jump in an unpleasant way.

"I can take care of myself."

"Hey, aren't you that girl that use to hang out with those Hawkins boys all the time? I don't remember you ever being so sexy." His fingers slid across my neck as he moved my hair behind my shoulder, bringing his lips close to my neck.

Jerking my shoulder to the side, I tried to get out of his grip. "I still hang with the Hawkins boys, and I happen to be here with one of them." Normally, I don't scare so easily, but realizing I was alone in the middle of the night and surrounded by drunks was not comforting. I hoped the statement came off as threatening. I was finally able to turn, getting him in front of me instead of behind. 

"Oh yes," he chuckled, stopping my retreat with my front to him and pulling me closer. "I'm sure you are. Everyone knows they skipped town a while ago."

"Just as I'm sure everyone knows they came back for their mother's funeral." His hands were trying to explore a bit too much now.

"It's not nice to lie, babe." Pressing his lips against my ear gave the exact opposite effect as it did when Damien had done it. "Just be easy, have a little fun."

There was a hand on my shoulder. "Mind if I steal this one back?" The deep voice was unmistakable, even as he yelled over the music. Relief sank through me. The guy who had been trying to dance with me looked up, a bit startled. "You alright?" He said into my ear.

I nodded, glancing up at him and then back to the guy in front of me who still had his hands on my sides. "Go on, man. This beauty came with me, and that's how she's going to leave, so you should probably let go of her now." There was no threat in Damien's voice, but it was obvious that there would be soon. He may have been significantly less violent and troublesome than David or Darren, but he had always been the most protective of me, especially when it came to guys who wanted more than their welcome. 

Slowly, the guy dropped his hands away from me and took a step backwards. Damien continued to stare at him until he moved away completely. "Sure you're okay?" He placed his hands back on my sides from behind, feeling warm as always, and leaned into my ear to speak. "I could hunt him down and beat him up if he got too friendly."

With an amused smile, I shook my head, leaning back to get closer to his ear. "I'm alright. You saw the worst of it, aside from him asking when I got so sexy. Creep." Damien's laugh was hearty, and I could feel it in his hands. "But really, 'this beauty'?" I said the words as if they were foul and disgusting.

His lips were against my ear, letting me feel his smile. It sent shivers down my spine. "I did tell you you look amazing, didn't I? And shouldn't you be more appreciative of me getting that guy to retreat?"

I batted my eyes at him melodramatically and put a mockingly sweet tone in my voice. "Oh Damien Hawkins, you're my hero." 

"Alright, come on Miss Sarcasm, let's dance some more." Before he could move back in front of me, I placed my hands over his and, before I could second guess myself, started swaying my hips again. Mere inches separated our bodies.

At first he did not move, though he left his hands on me. I glanced over my shoulder at him with what I hoped was a coy smile. Damien's eyes had been on our hands and my hips, but when he saw me turn they came up slowly to my own. The same expression that had been on his face when I came down the stairs at his house was back, though he quickly replaced it with a smile of his own.

Pulling me backward gently, he moved in rhythm with me, my back flat against his firm chest. Once again his hands fell to my hips. I was grinding against him in time with the music, feeling his own excitement growing through his jeans.

I leaned back further and traced my fingers against the side of his face before wrapping my fingers behind his neck. Our eyes locked. His mouth hung slightly open as he looked at me, and his breathing had sped up, just like my own. After a moment, he nestled his face in the crook of my neck, not kissing but holding me closer and tickling me with his warm breath.

My hips moved in circles against him, leaving me biting my bottom lip in an attempt to contain all the thoughts and desires going through my head. He moved with me, and everyone else in the overly crowded room was gone. His erection was firm against my ass as I pushed back into him, rubbing in circles, moving up and down. One of his hands slid forward, resting flat on my stomach, just below my abs, his other hand settling on my side a little shy of by breast. He was pulling me closer to him.

I rubbed against him a bit more firmly, with the added tease of moving a bit slower. Against my neck, he let out a small groan. A million dirty thoughts swam through my head. After a few songs, his lips moved upward, once again finding my ear. "Thank you, Nikki." He whispered, "I really needed this."

I didn't want to mistake his meaning; the night was too good to be true. "Of course Damien, I know you needed to get out of the house, and you really needed a distraction." I called over the music. 

"No. No, not that. I..." The next song to start was even louder than the others, and his voice was lost. I motioned to him that I couldn't hear what he was saying, so he grabbed my hand and pulled me into a tiny hallway near the back. 

He turned me so my back was up against the wall, and he stood just inches in front of me. The music still echoed off the walls, but it was not nearly as loud as it had been before. "What I was trying to say was that... I didn't mean getting out of the house and getting my mind off things. I meant thank you for dressing up and dancing with me like that and letting me hold onto you and that other night in bed because it... well it made me think that David might have been right."

I looked at him, bewildered as to what he was trying to say. "Right about what?"

"About..." and before I even had time to think, his hand was on the back on my neck pulling me forward and our lips pressed together. It was a kiss full of pure passion. With one hand still on my neck, he moved his other to the small of my back and pulled our bodies together. My heart was racing. The taste of his lips was intoxicating, making me want more. I raised my hands to his neck, loving the softness of his skin, and holding him close to me. A thousand thoughts flew through my head. His strong body was pressed up against my own. 

His mouth widened, and mine followed, allowing the kiss to deepen even further. The hand against the back of my neck snaked up into my hair, slipping through it gently. After an eternity, the kiss stopped and he pulled away. "About you being okay with me doing that."

"The only thing I'm not okay with is how long it took you to finally do it." With a smile, he leaned down to kiss me again, but right before our lips touched, there was a fight at the bar. In this neighborhood we knew things could get a lot worse. We both turned to see people running in every direction, trying to get out of the way. 

"Damien?"

"Come on, let's get out of here." The nearest exit was toward the pandemonium, so that was the way we ran. Just was we got out of the hallway, my foot was hooked on someone else's and I fell, landing hard on my elbow. With so many people running by, I wasn't sure I'd be able to get up, so my instinct was to throw my arms over the back of my head to protect from the footsteps of others. 

Damien appeared above me and grabbed me around the middle, lifting me to a standing position. "Back door." was all he said. 

He grabbed my hand again and pulled me away, dashing out the door. We made it a few blocks down a dark alleyway before he stopped us behind the stairs of a fire escape. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry I let you fall. Did you get hurt?" He ran his fingers across my cheek and looked down at me as if assessing damage.

I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. "I'm fine." I was shivering from the cold -- my coat was still hanging on the rack at the bar -- but I don't think that was the only reason Damien wrapped his arms around me so tightly. 

Like when I first crawled through his window, he rubbed his hands up and down my arms. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." I tried to sound as reassuring as possible, but that was hard to do when I was shaking so heavily.

"God, Nik, you're freezing, take my sweater." 

"No, if I do that then you'll just be cold."

"NIk, I'm wearing just a tad bit more clothing than you are. Just take it." I shook my head. Without notice, he pulled me into him with one arm and was kissing me again. This time, his tongue snaked past my lips. My knees almost gave out, and had he not crushed me against his own body, I likely would have fallen to the floor. A ripple moved between my legs.

But before it went any further, he pulled away. "You touched it last, guess it's yours." I looked at him, confused, and noticed he was no longer wearing this sweater. It was then that I felt the weight of the fabric on my own shoulders. "Come on, let's go." He said with a wink. Accepting defeat, I slipped my arms through the sleeves of the sweater.

With a smile, he pressed his lips to my forehead and we left. We worked our way back as quickly as we could, his arms around me the entire way. They had never felt better. Within minutes we were back at the house, brushing snow off of ourselves and each other after kicking off our shoes. 

He took me upstairs and to the bathroom to look at my elbow, which I had landed on harder than I thought. Damien set me up on the sink before starting to clean out the cut I had managed. Just as he finished up I looked him square in the eye. "What's the prognosis, doctor? Will I live?"

Setting his hands on my hips, he stepped so that his body was in between my legs. "I don't know what I'd do with myself if you didn't."

His eyes were purely sincere "I'm here as long as you want me."

"Niiki," his right hand brushed the hair from my face, "I want to be good enough for you."

"Do you think I spent so many years crawling through your window because you weren't? I've wanted you since I was thirteen years old." He was moving closer to me. "You should have been my first or should be my first depending on if that first time actually counted." 




Open Window



"Not me." His fingers traced small patterns over my palm. "You should be someone's one and only. You deserve..."

"A guy who'll take me dancing? A guy who will care about me." I motioned to my elbow which he had cleaned up, hoping he would see it as evidence for and not against my point. "A guy who will look at me like I'm the only girl in the world? I'm the one and only girl you've ever been friends with. That means something to me. That's what you were trying to say that night, wasn't it? The ability to not sleep with a girl was a sign you cared about her? Or is it just that you're not at all attracted to me, and I'm making an idiot of myself."

Another sly smile crossed his lips. "Could you not feel how attracted I am to you while we were dancing? I just don't want you to settle for me, Nik."

"Settle? Damien, I haven't been with a guy in two years. You can't settle for your dream. I've wanted you forever. I... Damien, I..."

"I love you, Nikki." The words burst out quickly, as if he had finally given up on holding them back. "I missed you and thought about you every second that I was gone. I promised myself I would never tell you that, but... all of those girls, I wanted them to be you. You were too important, and I didn't want to risk hurting you or losing you, so I kept looking for you in every girl that I met hoping it would be satisfying enough to keep me from messing things up with you." 

He was rambling, speaking everything almost too rapidly for me to keep up. "Nothing worked. Nothing got my mind off of you and wanting to be with you in every way possible. When I left, I stopped looking for you because I realized how pointless it was. And when you told me that you your number was still at your possible one, I thought maybe I was lucky enough that you were doing the same thing."

"Say it again."

"Which part?"

"The 'I love you' part."

"Nikki, I am absolutely in lo-" I couldn't wait for the words to finish before I pulled his lips to mine for the third time. He slid me forward across the sink until our bodies were flat against each other, his growing erection pressing against my panties through his jeans; I couldn't help but grind a little against it. I slid my tongue across his lips until his own met it in exploration. 

Only a few seconds had passed before we were breathing heavily, and I was stifling small moans. His hands moved across my body as if he were trying to feel every last inch of me. He kissed me with deeper passion than I knew was possible. It wasn't crazy and fast like that that proceeds a frantic fucking, but the kind that makes your entire body go numb.

With seeming reluctance, he separated his lips from mine. "Do you... do you want to go to our room?"

"Our room?"

He was smiling, looking me straight in the eye. "It's always been your room, too, since you were 13. I've never shared it with anyone else in any way; I've never brought a girl home."

No words came to me; I could only smile, feeling my entire body break into goose bumps. He lifted me from the sink and set me on the floor before leading me down the hall to his room. 

Our room.

Standing with the back of his knees against the mattress at the side of his bed, he pulled me directly in front of him. "Nikki..."

"Please don't... don't you dare question this." I stood on tip toes to rub my lips against his ear. "Think about warming me up while we were lying in this bed together. Think about dancing with me. Think about how my skin feels against yours. Think about my lips. I want you, Damien." I grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, exposing his perfect abs and scattered tattoos. 

Lifting his arms, he helped get it off and dropped it to the floor. The sight of his body made me feel weak, the perfection of it. 

Cupping my cheeks in his hands, he kissed me, and started moving his hands downward until he touched the bare skin of my leg. He was sliding my dress up, past my panties, past my stomach and my chest and finally over my head. It too went to the floor. 

The window shade was open, letting the moonlight and some glow from the street light in. With it, I could see him looking at my body. Suddenly, I was self-conscious. 

Biting my bottom lip, nervously, I thought of all the girls he had seen naked, how much sexier they probably were than me. I wrapped my arms across my stomach. "Don't," he said, pulling my hands away, "I want to look at you." He leaned away from me, to his side and reached for something by the wall. Suddenly, the room was softly illuminated by Christmas lights that lined his window.

"I want to look at you with the lights on." His words sent a jolt through my heart, stealing my breath from me. His eyes explored me. "Nikki, you're... perfect." We were both on the bed before I knew it. He lay flat on his back with me on top of him. His bare skin was erotically warm against my own as he pulled me to his lips.

Kissing me softly all over my face and running his fingers through my hair. Tentatively massaging my bare chest, he resorted to drawing me in to him, placing his fingers on my neck. Our tongues crossed each other's lips along with soft moans. Each time I pulled away even a fraction of an inch, he leaned forward to me quickly as if he couldn't stand the distance.

Before he could pull me back, I moved away and planted a kiss at the center of his abs, licking my way half way back up his chest before moving down again. He lifted his shoulders, watching me as I kissed downward to the line of his jeans. Looking up at him with every other kiss, I could see the lust in his eyes. My fingers began to work at the button and then the zipper of his jeans, undoing them with measured patience, watching him all the while. 

Damien brushed the hair from my face with one hand, while caressing my shoulder with the other, not quite sure what to do with himself. When I pulled open the front of his jeans and pressed my lips gently against thin layer of black cotton still covering him, he fell fully back against the bed, sighing heavily. It wasn't until I started tugging his jeans downward that he lifted himself back up to help me.

With my feet planted on the floor, I bent straight over and teasingly kissed his bare abs, running my hand over his covered erection. His breathing sped up noticeably, and he remained propped up on his elbows to be sure he saw my every movement. 

Finally, my kisses landed on his underwear before I slid my fingers under the elastic and pulled downward just enough to free him. His cock was rock hard and perfectly thick, the skin almost silky in my hand. Very lightly, I slid my fingers over it, eliciting a small gasp from Damien's lips. He was smiling at me.

Leaning down further, I ran my tongue from base to tip only to have my action accompanied by an appreciative moan. Wrapping my lips around the very tip, I gave a small suck before moving to lick upward again, slowly working my tongue along his eight inches.

"Oooh... come here." He whispered heavily, entangling his fingers in my hair and lifting me up toward him. He kissed me, running a hand over my breasts and smiling against my mouth. His other hand moved from my hair and ran over my neck, shoulders and back, tickling my bare skin as he went. I wrapped my own arms around him, still needing him close and not believing that this was happening. 

We were no longer sideways on the bed, but fully on it lying length-wise. His hand left my chest and moved downward until he firmly gripped my ass, slinking fingers underneath my panties. I, however, knew it was still my turn to play. Breaking from his kisses, I moved downward along his body again before reaching his still bared cock. I kissed and licked every inch of it gingerly, enjoying the sound of his breathing picking up speed. 

Finally, I slid my lips over him, taking more than just the head in my mouth, slipping my tongue along. When I had half his cock in my mouth, I began to slide back up, pushing his underwear down at the same time. Not wanting me to break from what I was doing, he sat forward and managed to kick them the rest of the way off. 

I was bobbing slowly, taking more of him each time I went down. "Fuck!" Was all he could manage when my nose pressed against his tensing stomach. He gathered my hair and held it with one hand on top of my head, using his other hand to pull me sideways to him. As his cock slid in and out of my mouth, he ran his hand across my stomach, moving downward.

Once his fingers slid over the front of my panties, teasing my pussy through the fabric, I was moaning against his cock, trying to keep myself as quiet as possible. His touch was light, as if he were exploring something for the first time and wanted to test the waters, but this did not stop the muscles in my stomach from twitching and contracting. 

Accepting my reaction as an okay, he slid his hand under the fabric and rubbed two fingers over my bare pussy. If his cock hadn't been fully in my mouth when he touched me, I likely would have screamed from the sensation. There was something very pleasurable in the simple fact of who it was that was touching me. Still not done, he pushed one finger inside, eliciting a deep moan against his cock. I bobbed up and down a bit faster, needing him even more in that moment. 

Feeling my change in pace, he began working his finger in and out of my pussy with the perfect speed, making it almost impossible for me to focus on the taste of his cock. "Oh my God!" I pulled my mouth off of him and licked the full length of his shaft once, twice, almost collapsing against him both times. I tried again to wrap my lips against the tip of his cock which lasted only until his thumb found my clit. "Uhh...Damien." He turned me quickly, smashing his lips against my own to muffle my moan, continuing his assault on my pussy.

My whole body gyrated against him, needing to feel his fingers rub harder and press deeper inside me. With an arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders, he kept me against him, his tongue tracing around the inside of my lips. 

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and I pushed his hand away. Swinging my leg upward, I straddled his perfect, naked body, rubbing the fabric of my panties against his cock. Pushing me upward, he took my nipple in his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, looking up at me as he did. My breathing sped up a notch as he moved to the other breast. I grabbed for my panties, pushing them down and lifting my body to get them fully off. Again, I rubbed against him, this time bare skin against bare skin. 

He kissed me, passionately, his eyes lost from focus. His hands never left me, caressing my neck, shoulders, sides, back, hips, any part of my body he could reach. I lifted my hips slightly, and he took the hint to tease between my legs again, this time slipping two fingers quickly into my pussy as I wrapped my fingers tenderly around this cock, pointing him upward. "Go slow." I whispered to him, my voice heavy with lust. "This is going to be my real first time, our first time." 

Still breathing heavily, he placed his hand gently on my neck, pushing my hair from my face and looking me straight in the eye. "This is my first time. I've never made love to anyone before." His eyes were full of passion and sincerity; I needed nothing more. 

At the same time, I dropped myself down and he thrust upward. With that single motion, he was fully inside of me, his warm cock filling me completely. For a moment, neither of us moved, lost in having finally gotten what we had both waited years for. Our eyes met and stayed locked together. "Nikki you have no idea how good you feel."

Then, I began to rock myself up and down, moaning softly at the feel of his hard, warm cock sliding in and out of my pussy. His hands could not seem to settle, moving over every inch of skin he could reach as he kissed me, pushed me back to look into my eyes, and kissed me again. I rocked a bit faster, breathing hard against his mouth. 

"Oh, Nikki" He slid his fingers through my hair at the base of my neck with both hands, pulling my forehead against his own. Arching my back, I continued sliding up and down. "Mmm you're amazing." Our foreheads still pressed together, he moved his hands slowly down the side of my body until they came to a rest just below my waist. 

His eyes left mine and looked down to where our bodies connected, and he moaned. As gently as he could, he pushed me upward at the waist, helping me to raise further off of him with each movement. Following his eyes, I looked down at us. I saw his perfectly built body mere inches from my own. I saw his warm, firm hands on my skin. I saw his cock sliding into me, glistening with the moisture of my pussy. I saw no space between us.

"I love you, Damien." He wrapped his hands quickly around my back, pulling me against him as he began thrusting into me, taking control. "Oh, yes! Oh, fuck" I dropped my face to his neck to muffle my moans, knowing that his brothers were asleep elsewhere in the house. Turning his head, he ran his tongue along my lips tenderly, still thrusting. He moved gently, but with purpose, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in with controlled force.

His moans were mesmerizing. Each thrust was punctuated by one, vibrating against my lips. He started moving faster, getting into a rhythm, rubbing against all the right parts of my body. The bed shook lightly underneath us, just shy of hitting the wall. "Nikki." It came through gritted teeth, and I felt him tense inside of me. 

My stomach tightened and twitched. My toes curled. It was already building inside of me, the release I had always needed him to give me, but I couldn't let it happen yet. "Damien..."

He thrust fully inside of me and held himself there, clutching me tighter to his body and sitting upright. He was panting heavily, looking between my eyes. Slowly, he brought one hand up and ran his fingers through my hair. "Not yet. I don't want this to end, yet." They were the exact words I was thinking. We sat like that, catching our breath, for an unimportant amount of time. 

I was glad for the lights around his window; seeing him made it a million times more real. "This is so much better than... anything I've ever..." Still not in control of his breath, he smiled at his failed attempt to form a sentence. "I've imagined doing this with you, Nik, and this is..."

"Shh." I pressed a finger to his lips. "Not yet." Slipping my finger away, our lips came together with small, soft kisses that did not fit the position in which we were sitting. 

With patience, he began to turn us, cradling the back of my head and keeping one arm locked around me as he reached a full circle and lowered me down. He was still inside me. Bracing himself against the mattress to keep from putting too much weight on me, he started sliding himself out of me. Just as he was about to fall all the way out, he was pushing in again, moving erotically slow. My fingers gripped to the skin of his back, wanting to pull him closer to me, but knowing he wouldn't risk hurting me with his weight. He continued with the slow movements. Never once did our eyes move away from each other's, our faces barely an inch apart. We didn't kiss, too focused on the feeling of his cock sliding inside me to interrupt it with anything else.

Then, it wasn't enough. Achingly slow became a little bit faster, as I wrapped my arms behind his shoulders, trying to bring him closer to me. "More." I almost forgot to keep myself quiet as his hips collided with my own, calling out with each thrust. A brush of his lips muffled me. My toes began to curl.

His breath began to come in grunts and moans, no distinguishable words among them. "Fuck... oh fuck!" I however, was able to form a few. "Damien please!" The distance, only inches, became too much for me. I wrapped my arms around him tighter and pulled toward me. That time, he gave in. Hooking his arms underneath my body, he dropped himself against me, his skin wonderful hot and sticky with the sheen of sweat. 

Not wanting him to move away even a centimeter, I brought my knees up and wrapped my legs around his lower back. "Oh, shit." The movement must have done something, as he called out and instantly picked up speed. His thrusts were much smaller, barely moving an inch out of me before thrusting in again. Faster, his breath and his body both. Less controlled. Less measured.

"Yes, Damien just like that, please don't stop!" My stomach was too tense. My legs began to shake. I had to bury my face in his neck to quiet my moans, and found that even the smell of his sweat was erotic. The walls of my pussy began to squeeze him tighter, and I felt him grow more tense, too. His thrusts came faster. His body slid over my clit. "I'm gonna cum."

"Look at me," he moaned out, all as one word. "Nikki, look at me." I pulled away as little as I could, and he did the same. His beautiful eyes locked with my own.

"Oh fuck!" Simultaneously, he pressed his lips to mine and thrust as deeply into me as he could manage. I all but screamed. A ripple went through me, raising every bit of pressure in my body to the breaking point and pushing it straight over the edge. Inside of me, I felt the same happen to him. Wave after wave he shot into me, then he collapsed his full weight onto me, his arms failing him. His pants were heavy in my ear, just as mine were in his. 

My legs stayed around him, still not willing to let him go as he planted kisses along my collarbone. We both fought to get our breathing under control. Finally, he managed a deep breath and let it out with a 'woosh'. Propping himself back up on his forearm, only taking his weight off of me but not moving away, he pushed my hair off of my face with his fingertips, fighting against the bit of sweat that kept it there. 

"That was the most amazing thing I have ever... in my life..." He chuckled, unable to manage his complete thought, caressing my body with his fingers. Still panting, though on a slower scale, I smiled in agreement. 

He kissed me: my lips, my neck, my shoulder, my chest. I tried to detangle my legs from his back though they had gone numb or I'd forgotten how to use them. I wasn't sure which. I pressed my face into his neck, tasting his salty sweat on my lips. Then, my feet uncrossed and my legs fell back to the side. 

His kisses found their way back to my neck, then up to my ear. "I love you. I love you so much, Nikki." They continued to my lips, tender and undemanding. Loving.

"I love you, Damien," I mumbled against them. 

The kisses slowed and he pulled back to look at me. He was sliding out of me, slowly and gently. I watched him with a smile, feeling a bit of loss when he was finally out. Even more, he fell away from me, lying on his back next to me. 

"NIk, I could try to tell you how amazing that was, but no words, come here." His hand closed around mine as he pulled me toward him and placed my palm on his chest. Underneath, his heart was racing. "This is what you do to me."

Looking at his hand covering mine and my fingers on his bare chest, I was filled with warmth. "Maybe you should take it easy on the physical activity then," I teased, looking up at him. 

He shook his head, smiling his perfect teeth at me. "No, my heart slowed down from then. This is from you saying you love me." I couldn't think of anything good enough to say in response, but the look in his eye told me I didn't need to say anything at all. 

"I wanted to ask you this earlier, but you kept distracting me." There was a playful accusation in his eyes. "I want to ask. I want it to be official. I don't care how juvenile it sounds or anything." He looked me straight in the eyes, lifting my hand gently and intertwining his fingers with my own. "Nikki, will you be my girlfriend?"

My heart felt like it jumped in my chest. I opened my mouth, trying to answer, but was unable to remember what came next in the process. Damien was patient, a small trace of nervousness apparent on his face, though that was greatly minimal next to how much hope was there. Tears worked their way into my eyes, and I decided to give up on my attempts to speak. Instead, I nodded.




Open Window



That smile was always beautiful, absolute perfection, but in that moment perfection was a complete understatement. It was magical, beautiful. It was right. It was the happiest I had ever seen him.

His hands encased my face and he kissed me gently on the lips, barely able to stop smiling long enough to make it a proper kiss. My entire body was filled with fluttering butterflies. "You're my first," I whispered.

Epilogue

The hotshot lawyer was almost as good as he said he was. James Sterling the man that killed Damien's mother was sentenced to fifteen years with the chance of parole after ten. He was originally facing 25 years. His family was outraged and just like they said they did file a civil suit for pain and suffering after all the heartache the Hawkins boys had caused their family. But those troublesome Hawkins boys filed a wrongful death case and were awarded over five million dollars. You would think with all that money the Hawkins boys would split up and go on and live their lives but they didn't. Instead they sold their mother's house anxious to be out of that god forsaken neighborhood. They bought a house that could accommodate all of us with more than enough hot water. Moving had been easy. I didn't have anything worth packing and I didn't even tell my parents I was leaving I don't think they would even notice. And David only packed their mother's pictures.

"Davey are you sure Damien and I can have the master bedroom?" He reached over to rub my belly.

"I'm sure you can have the master bedroom and if you decide to share with Damien that's your business. You need room for the baby."

I can't believe that less than a year after I decided to go through that window again everything could be so different. I was finally with Damien and we were going to have a baby. Condoms weren't on our list of things to do that first time and by the time we thought about it we were too late. Initially, I was worried how that was going to work out I was leaning towards not having the baby. But once I told Damien and he told David and Darren they decided that not having the baby wasn't even an option even before the lawsuit. David teased Damien without mercy shocked that he was capable of reproducing. 

"See Damien I told you I was settling."



Open Window at the Marsden



The Vincent Chronicles

San Francisco – July, 1976

I was standing in line at the cafeteria style counter—"cafeteria" in the sense that I had to wait in line, but the counter was very short and the selection of food was just the makings of one meal—when looking around I saw a man waving at me. I didn't know him, but he looked about my age and had an empty seat next to him. 

I had arrived down to dinner late, the place was full, so the empty seat was welcome.

I had checked into the Marsden Residency Club earlier that afternoon and this was my first meal. The Marsden was similar to European hostels in some ways, different in others. Breakfast and dinner were included in the weekly rate. For lunch I would have to fend for myself. The dining room was in the basement and consisted of six long tables seating eight people each side positioned parallel in two rows and the food counter with its limited selection of food.

The basement dining room was pretty drab—painted concrete walls and no windows—but the rest of the old building was very attractive if not also showing its age. The outside was reddish brown stone blocks and large windows. The interior was polished, if not also scarred, wood fixtures, large ceramic tiles, dark wood paneling, and new, red carpeting of a modern design. I should say that the anachronistic carpeting was relatively new; it was pretty well worn as well. The Marsden had rooms with bathrooms or without (facilities down the hall), large rooms and very small, furnished or semi-furnished, shared or single—rooms for all needs and budgets, and therefore perfect for me since I was newly arrived in San Francisco, looking for work, and living on my meager savings.

Balancing my tray in front of me, I walked down the length of the room towards where the gesturing man was waiting. What caught my eye about him was that he had (there was no other word for it) an elegant face, expressionless, but very well designed. As I got closer I saw that the rest of him complimented his head: thin body and well, but casually dressed, slacks not jeans, shirt tucked in, a thin belt. 

"Just arrived?" he asked. He gave me a small half-smile.

"This afternoon," I nodded.

As I was settling into the presented seat, he motioned to a woman directly across from him.

"This is Elizabeth." He placed his open hand on his chest with almost comical dramatic motion, "And I'm Cyril."

I looked at the woman. 

She smiled back, "Call me Lizzie." She smiled. She had a British accent.

Her hair was deep auburn and was cut shoulder length. It rolled out and away from her head in swirls that, I thought, looked natural and not imposed by curlers. Her mouth was somewhat quirky, kind of an odd shape, but in a smile it was pretty, full and shapely. She was idiosyncratically beautiful because of her unusual mouth and her deep-set eyes—green, I noticed. Very attractive. She was older than either Cyril or me.

"I'm Vince," I replied.

We talked during dinner. Cyril had arrived just the day before. Lizzie had been at the Marsden for three weeks. We were all new arrivals in San Francisco. Lizzie had moved here from New York (she was from West London, but had been in New York City for a couple of years working for a British corporation) having accepted a job as one of four secretaries to the director of the San Francisco Opera, which fascinated me more than it did Cyril, especially since she said she could get me in for free via the green room. Cy (though he hadn't volunteered it right away, Cyril said his friends call him Cy) had moved down from Portland for no more reason than he had wanted to live in San Francisco. I was resettling here for the same reason.

We talked about how the Marsden's dinner reminded us of elementary school lunches (or in Lizzie's case, primary school lunches), that is: overcooked vegetables, salty, the type that came out of huge cans; meat of one type or another over cooked as well; white bread pre-sliced thin out of long plastic bags; and soggy, baked deserts, square-cut and baked in huge rectangular trays—it was a treat to get an crispy edge, and a corner piece was beyond luck.

Oddly enough and I found that, not only did we arrive at the Marsden one day apart, but he was born one day before me, on January fifth and I on the sixth. We laughed at the idea that I seemed to be living my life one day behind his.

After dinner Lizzie and Cy lead me to the lounge, a very large room with a television, quite a few well-used sofas and easy chairs, coffee tables and card tables, and a big window that overlooked the busy San Francisco street.

As we were talking, comparing notes on where we all had lived and what we thought of San Francisco, a women walked up to us, sat down beside me on the wide arm of my easy chair, leaned far in over me, and said, "You are so fucking cute."

She stared straight in to my eyes and continued, "With emphasis on the "fucking.'"

Cyril laughed. Lizzie looked a little stunned. I just sat there flummoxed.

At dinner, I had noticed this woman looking at me a couple of times but had been busy talking to Cy and Lizzie. I had paid enough attention to noticed that she had a strong face, very chiseled with sharp features, almost elegant but too hard—good-looking all the same. She had short hair, dark brown, almost mahogany, in hue, not over her ears or neck but very full and heavy with bangs. She wore a black top.

Now that she was perched over me, I could see that the top she was wearing was a tight, black tee shirt with, obviously, no bra underneath. Her nipples were hard and mere inches from my face. Her breasts were round, shallow but full. She had on black pants with gray, vertical stripes. And there was a kanji character, large and black, on her forearm. In the seventies, business suits might be black, evening gowns maybe, but other than that, people didn't wear black. And tattoos were still a rarity.

"I'm Bette." She spelled it for me. "It's pronounced like 'bet' and never, never-ever, like 'Betty'—Got it?"

I nodded.

"Who are you?" she demanded, smiling hugely. 

"Vincent," I mumbled. I was feeling like a fox at bay with this woman looming over me.

I am shy, but generally I am also good at conversations so that after an initial awkwardness, a minute or two of trepidation, I am carried away by the talk and my timidity evaporates. But this woman intimidated me, and any words I might have had to say fled.

Bette—never Betty—leaned that last six inches forward and kissed me on my forehead.

"Well, I've got to go, but I'll see you later."

She bounded up and strode like a storm trooper towards the door.

Cyril was still laughing. "Well, you met Bette."

Lizzie said, "I call her Bête Noire."

"Appropriate," I stammered. I half scowled a sort of smile—I was still rattled. "Does she eat people?"

"Only young men," Lizzie stated.

We three continued our interrupted conversation until a few other people stopped by, suggested we all go out, and we went for some drinks.

During the following days, I spent a lot of time with Lizzie and Cy. There was a great place for lunch two blocks away and down around the corner. The restaurant had a long list of great soups and provided short baguettes with each order. The coffee and deserts were terrific as well. We spent hours there hanging out. In the evenings, a gang from the Marsden frequently went dancing at various clubs in the North Shore, and we three went often. The Bête Noire was never part of the group. She seemed to always be busy. The few times I saw her that week, she'd stop, coral me, and, smiling all the while, make insinuations about what she would do to me if we were alone. But we never were, alone that is, and she inevitable was in a hurry and dashed off whenever I did bump into her, which was fine by me. I was much more interested in Lizzie. And the Bête still scared me.

~~~~~~

One evening after I had been at the Marsden a week, I was in my room relaxing when I first heard the noises. I had been pounding the pavement, as the saying goes, all day looking for work—and pounding was correct because my feet hurt. I was in good health so I was surprised at how sore my feet were, but I figured that walking miles on hard concrete sidewalks was enough to wear out anyone's feet. I had declined a night of dancing with Lizzie, Cyril, and the gang, and was settled on my bed leaning back against the wall with a pillow as a cushion, barefoot, wearing jeans and a short-sleeve shirt. A neat scotch in the room's single water glass was in one hand and a book was in the other, when I heard the first sounds. My window was open—it was a hot night and air conditioning wasn't common in San Francisco—and the sounds of sex just drifted in.

I looked out the window. Across the alley in another old building, a hotel I thought, a window was open and light was streaming out. I was looking down approximately one floor at a room where, like my own room, the bed was under the window. And from the bed came the sound of soft moans, of rustling of limbs moving on the bed sheets, of wet, slobbery licking, sucking noises, all from a naked woman and man. He had his face between her legs, and she gripped the sheets in her hands, arched her back, and emitted loud, furry purrs.

The room's ceiling lights filled the entire area with harsh illumination displaying the couple on the bed very well. He had short-ish, shaggy dark brown hair and a slim body with dimpled buttocks. That was all I could see of him. His face, as I said, was buried. She had auburn, leaning to red, hair, acres of it tossed about the white sheets of the bed. A lone bottom sheet covered the bed, the rest of the coverings were puddled on the floor. Two pillows had joined the coverings. So the auburn lady was sprawled across a naked bed, legs wide, knees high, feet planted firmly, arms circling above her head framing her hair, face rolled to one side, and her mouth wide letting escape her pleasure in a stream of throaty sounds. Her back was slightly arched, and her breasts lay flat settling to either side of her chest and peaked with swollen aureoles and hard nipples.

I thought the couple must be in their late twenties or early thirties, bodies looking a little soft but still fit. She had a slight tummy curve but a still thin waist, and wide, womanish hips. His butt was a bit droopy.

I took this all in, ran it through my thoughts, but mostly I was aware of my body and its own reactions to the couple below. Blood was flowing into my cock, thickening it, trying to straighten it, to shove it upwards, but my jeans held the process in check. I unbuttoned them, yanked the zipper down, shoved them down six inches or so, then reached into my boxers to untangle my dick, get it nice and straight, unencumbered and free to rise to its full potential. And within another couple of heartbeats, it was full and hard and as long as it was going to get. I worked my shorts and jeans down my thighs a little more feeling a bit constrained by them but too immersed in my arousal to bother taking them all the way off. I leaned against the window sill and started to jerk off.

I was just starting to feel the beat, so to speak, getting up a good rhythm, when a knock sounded on my door. I said a quiet "fuck" under my breath, maneuvered my dick back into my boxers and the boxers back into my jeans, zipped them up, and headed for the door.

I expected Cy or Lizzie thinking that maybe they had not gone out yet, but it was the Bête Noire.

"Do you hear that?" She shoved past me, ran across my room, and hopped on to my bed to take the place I had just vacated, all before I could think of anything to say.

I stood behind her a yard or so still flabbergasted. She was leaning both hands on the window sill, kneeling on my bed, bent at the waist, peering out and down at the same hotel window that I had been gazing at just moments before. I was staring at her butt, not out of attraction but because it was the most prominent thing in front of me..

"Oh my God, listen to them go," she said to the open window. "Holy fuck."

I managed to close the door, but I had no words.

"Holy shit!" She turned to me, "Are you watching this?"

"I was before."

She nodded and turned back to the window.

"My room is too high up. I could hear them but I couldn't see much. Just a knee or something now and them. My God, they're really fucking."

She laughed a contralto chuckle.

Apparently, the couple had progressed in their loving making while I was getting the door.

I stood there taking inventory of my emotions. I wasn't sure if I was angry at the sudden invasion by this woman or if I wanted to laugh at the comedy of the situation—yell or laugh. The one thing I was definitely aware of was that she was in my window and that was where I wanted to be. My cock was still hard and still wanted attention. And I could hear the couple across the way very well from where I was standing even though I could not see them. There was a big butt in my way. Well, not a really big butt—big, but in a nice way. Full and tight and round. Big in that way.

"Oh, crap! They're stopping!" Bette called.

Bette threw a glance my way then quickly looked back out the window.

"No. No. It's okay. She's just getting on top. No. She's going down on him. She's gonna give him a blow job. And he's cover with all her juices. Yum."

She watched and I just stood there unsure what to do, of even what I wanted to do.

Suddenly she turned to me.

"Don't you want to watch this?"

I thought that with her eyes meeting mine she only needed to look down a couple of feet and she would see the answer, but she didn't look down and gave no indication that she had notice the vertical ridge in my jeans.

"Come on. There's plenty of room." She scooted a couple of inches over to illustrate the fact. And there was plenty of room—it was a wide window, two big sets of four panes each swinging out to open a space about four feet wide. Still, I felt it presumptuous for her to invite me to my own window. But I was starting to realize that Bette was like that, just followed her instincts without the intrusion of thoughts and just did what she felt like doing. Rudeness didn't occur to her.

And the sounds beckoned. I did want to see what was going on in the room across the alley and one floor below.

I climbed on the bed and knelt beside her. She smelled like sage. I don't know where that thought came from, but she did smell like sage, like the prairie.

"They're one helluva pair of exhibitionists, aren't they?" She turned to me and smiled.

"Yeah. They sure are."

The woman below ran her tongue down the man's cock, up and down a couple of times, then sunk her mouth over it again. From our vantage point, we could see it clearly. Only thirty feet away, I thought, not much more. Bette was right, they were exhibitionists. They did want an audience or else why have the bright room lights on instead of, maybe, just the side table reading light, or no lights at all. And why not draw the drapes closed. They definitely wanted to be watched. They were performing. And I so much wanted to watch the show.

Suddenly I heard a zipper sound. I looked over at Bette and nothing had changed except one arm was no longer resting on the window sill. I thought, no she couldn't be, not with me right here. I went back to watching. The woman now mounted the man, knees on either side of his waist, sitting up, raising and lowering herself with enthusiasm.

Then I became aware of another scent intruding upon the sage, the smell of a woman's wetness. And it wasn't coming from across the way. The distance was too great and the smell was too potent. I couldn't help it—I looked over at Bette and down her arm; it disappeared deep into her pants. Her fingers must be well beyond her pubic ridge not just tickling her clit but burying themselves in her vagina. Her black slacks were a couple inches lower as a result. I looked up at her face. Her eyes were fixed on the spectacle below, her mouth was open an inch, her breath coming heavy and hard but nearly soundless. I could see her taking in the hot night's air and then shoving out in fast, sharp breaths.

At that moment she turned to me catching me watching her.

"I can't believe," she said between pants, "that you're not jerking off."

She looked down for a moment. I don't know how well she could see my state of arousal with me in my kneeling position, but for that matter she probably didn't need to see to guess that I was hard and yearning to beat off just as she was, except that she seemed immune to embarrassment and I was feeling very self-conscious both about what she was doing and about what I wanted to do.

She smiled seeming to know my thoughts.

"Go ahead. Don't let me stop you."

I was mortified at the thought of unzipping my pants and hauling out my hard-on. But Bette had, again, totally immersed herself in the action across the alley. I could see her shoulder moving, adding to the motion of her arm as she worked away at her pussy obviously rubbing back and forth vigorously now. And my cock was shoving against my jeans with an imperative to be set loose. My right hand was the furthest from Bette. Somehow that was important to me—the act of undoing my jeans might not be noticed by her. I popped the button then slowly and, as quietly as I could, unzipped them. I knew she didn't care, but I did. I was feeling very shy about the whole situation, but I also was feeling extremely compelled to get my hand on my cock and start working it. I slipped my hand into my boxer shorts. But the boxer style I wore in those days wasn't the big bulky style but a tighter, butt-hugging type with less give in the elastic waist. My hand fit around my cock, but it was a tight space. I started moving my hand leveraged from my elbow in a nice, slow cadence, an elliptical motion.

I looked over at Bette. She seemed oblivious to what I was doing, absolutely focused on the couple below. I realized I had been more aware of her masturbating beside me than in the show next door. Looking out into the night I saw that the couple was now doggy-style fucking. I hadn't even noticed them repositioning themselves.

I struggled to stroke myself inside my boxers. I was keeping my cock covered out of some sense of modesty. I watched the couple but stole a glance over at Bette. Her arm had levered her pants lower. It was too dark to see, but her pubic hair must have been uncovered, her wrist pushed her panties so far out and away from her body. She didn't pay any attention to me. She was intent on the couple beyond the other window and her own growing excitement.

The restriction of my boxers was becoming frustrating. Encouraged by Bette's obsessive stare out the window and my own desperation, I used both hands to shove my boxers down into my jeans, down below my balls so that the elastic top caught underneath them pulling them up and out. My jeans were still most the way up, but my butt was bare against them and my cock was out free in the not complete darkness, maybe visible if Bette happened to glance over, and that I found both frightening and exciting.

I tried concentrating on the couple—he was still banging her hard from behind as she was on knees and elbows, her moans much louder now—but every thirty seconds or so I felt compelled to look over at Bette, first at her face to watch her intense concentration and her ragged breathing, and then down to see her hand jerk and gyrate between her thighs barely hidden by her panties.

I had one hand gripping my testicles and the other stroking like crazy now that my equipment was free and unconstrained.

The cycle continued. I'd watch the couple for a time—they were spooning now, facing away from the window, but her leg was high and we voyeurs could see his cock driving in and pulling out of her pussy over and over again—and then I'd watch Bette. The intensity of her watching and of her masturbating seemed unbreakable. She still seemed unaware of me.




Open Window at the Marsden



I was watching her when she suddenly cried out, "Oh my God, he's shoving it into her ass!" Then she looked over at me. She realized that I had been watching her and not the couple—it was obvious from her face. She glanced down. I didn't stop my rhythm. Part of me wanted to, suddenly self-conscious, but my excitement drove me on—and I suddenly understood that most of my excitement was that she was next to me, and now she was watching me.

She glanced up again. Then she looked out the window for a few seconds. She turned back to me and smiled.

She extracted her hand from her pussy, grabbed me with both hands on my shoulders, swung me around shoving me down onto the bed, and with the same motion, and before I had time to think about what she was doing, had her mouth over my cock taking it all in.

She sucked for just a few seconds before sitting up and starting to yank off my jeans. I helped to get them off along with my boxers, and then she was feverishly pulling her own pants and panties off. I was shoved back on the bed and she was on me with me in her in a blink of an eye, not that I was blinking. My eyes were wide open. She settled on my cock guiding it into her with her hand. Her tits hung down further than I expected even with the perennial black tee shirt covering them. I wanted my own shirt off, I didn't know why. I felt it important to be as naked as the couple across the way. I got it off without tearing off any buttons. Apparently, I inspired Bette to do the same. She flung her tee off. Then she fell forward on me and rubbed her nipples across my chest, all the time grinding her hips against me, plowing her pussy with my cock. I thrust in matching her rhythm and the combination really worked for her because she sudden was very vocal in competition with our neighboring couple, moaning and almost shouting, "Oh fuck yeah, that's it, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck..." unceasingly.

Suddenly, she lifted off me so my cock fell and bounced against my belly. She leaned back and sat back down on me moving forward and back at the same cadence as before but against my cock on the outside of her, against her labia and her clit. I thought she was just rubbing her cunt against my cock before she would take it back into her, but then she leaned back so far that her asshole could ride along my shaft, back and forth.

"Oh God, that's good. Oh fuck." She chanted, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck."

She was leaning way back, arms angled behind, her hands planted on the bed, rolling her hips back and forth.

"Oh God, Vince. I want your cock in my ass. Just like they did. Quick."

She rolled off me and lay down with her back against my side. I tipped on to my side as well and reached down to her ass. I felt between her legs. Her pussy was soaked—as was my cock from her—but so was her ass from rubbing against me. I rubbed her labia for a few seconds soaking my fingers in her juices and then rubbed her own lube on her anus. I was going to finger her hole to loosen it up, but she shouted, "No. Your dick. Now. Right now!"

I slid down a bit further, held my cock in one hand, moved it around between her cheeks until its tip felt an indentation, then I shoved. I shoved harder than I normally would have for a first thrust, but I sensed that that was what Bette wanted—a hard first drive. A pounding right from the beginning. So I rocked hard against her time and time again, moving my entire body and humping with my hips, giving her everything I had, again and again, pounding away at her ass.

I wanted to give even more. I rolled her over on her stomach. She shoved her ass high in the air with my cock still inside, and now with my arms and legs and my entire weight I could come down heavy thrusting with my hips in the same motion and hammer her so hard that I was a bit afraid of hurting her. But she yelled, "Yes. Yes. Harder." So I strived to pound her harder.

She came before me.

It was not very surprising to me that Bette was very vocal when fucking—I would have been very surprised if she had been a quiet love-maker. But if the couple across the way wasn't already sure that they had inspired another couple to sex—and I'm sure that they had probably heard us unless they were so enraptured they could hear nothing other than themselves—they were aware of us now, as well as most of the Marsden I would expect. Bette let out a final, "Ohhhhh fuckkkkk..." and her raised butt just collapsed on to the bed. I followed it down and gave it a few more strokes but then pulled out and just ran my cock hard and fast between her butt checks. Bette had recovered and was yelling, "Oh yeah, Vince, come on my ass...." And I was frantically thrusting away between those fabulous globs of flesh when I finally spurted all over her back and butt.

Then there was quiet, just our labored breathing. There was no sound coming from the other window across the alley. The only sounds were the normal street noises.

We were lying in each other's arms in post-coital numbness when she laughed in my ear, "Thank God for those perverts. I was starting to think I'd never get into your pants."

The End



Open Windows



First day at my first job after college and I was walking along the sidewalk during lunch. I stopped in a newsstand and mostly browsed. 'Lesbian Slut Pussy' and 'Exposed Pussy' sat on the shelf right in front of me. It took a moment to even realize what I was looking at. I'd never seen such a magazine. Reaching up, almost afraid to touch it, I flipped a few pages without taking it down. Skin, oh my God, such lovely female skin. I carried both to the cashier and laid them on the counter, upside down, too embarrassed for the man behind me to see what I was buying.

The female cashier turned them over in front of God and the world.

"Oh lady, this one is really hot!" She rubbed a finger over the picture of a naked nipple on the cover like she probably did a real one. "That'll be $14.69. ... ohh wicked amount."

That evening, magazines hidden in a brown paper bag under everything else in my briefcase, I rushed home. As I sat naked in my bed, lights dimmed, I looked at a picture, then I rubbed 2 fingers in my pussy. I don't know why 2, but it always had been that way for me. As I turned the page, I brought my hand up to my mouth and sucked on my fingers like a woman in a picture was doing. Not so bad. Even the smell was nice. I would look, finger, suck, turn the page. Hell, I was a 'grown' woman of 21, and I was sneaking a peek at dirty magazines, what was wrong with me? I was even enjoying it too.

I always kept my magazines and the fact I licked my fingers a secret from everyone. It became my own private thing. In fact, the longer I kept it my secret, the more special, more private, the more of a turn on, it became to me. It wasn't long before I couldn't feel any pleasure, couldn't even have an orgasm, without also tasting myself. I never told anyone. I was mortified that someone would find out and tell others.

Growing up, there had been a paved pathway in our neighborhood behind some of the houses that I would walk along to school. I sometimes wondered what was going on in the bedrooms, but I never let myself be tempted enough to look. Knew I'd get caught too. Looking at one of the magazines filled with people hiding and watching women exposing themselves, I thought back to that path and wondered how often someone might have peeked in those windows. 

One morning after I acquired the magazines, much like many other mornings, I walked through the alley behind my house, past the garbage cans and cars. It was still quite dark as I passed behind one house. A few dogs barked. A cat knocked over a can. I heard a woman yell something. I thought it a bit strange they had the windows open for such a cool morning. Couldn't quite make out what she said. Then again. I snuck over to the window and listened.

"You brute, slam that cock in my pussy."

"Babe, you love it don't you?"

"Oh yes darling. You're the best."

Do real people having sex really say things like that? How would I know? Twenty-one and still had not had sex, sex of any kind, with a guy, or a woman even. The curtains were open and I could see them both. I could see everything. Her legs were in the air, he was between them, his bare ass moving up and down. I could even see his cock going in and out of her pussy. This was the first time I'd seen sex happening in real life. This wasn't even a movie, but right there in Technicolor, right in front of me. I put my briefcase down on the ground and watched, my hand under my dress, fingering myself, stopping to taste my fingers, and getting more and more turned on.

I guess I lost track of time and the fact that other people actually might walk along the alley too. There was a bush hiding me. I felt safe.

"Oh Bob, you're going to make me cum. Don't stop. Work that cock. Fuck me big boy. You're huge. Oh here it comes."

The words did a little to excite me, but what I really enjoyed was just watching. I could have been deaf and still been turned on. I had trouble pulling myself away from the window, but I knew if I didn't leave, I'd be late to work. Part of me kept saying screw it, just watch a little longer; but another part told me how I needed to be on time. The later part won today.

Must say that work dragged on so slowly, it felt like the clocks were running about 1/60'th of their normal speed. People would open their mouths and the voices sounded like a 78 RPM record on 45, they just droned on and on. My mind was flooded with thoughts of the morning, leaving no room for anything else.

The alarm went off as usual, but today I had a mission and I was ready. I hoped they would be at it again. Maybe he screwed her at the same time each morning before leaving for work and I could watch. I was so excited. My breakfast didn't taste good at all. I just mushed things up with my fork and pushed the pieces around the plate. 

"Something wrong Jane?" My housemate asked as she made her lunch for the day.

"No Cindy. I'm okay. Little nervous about a project due far too soon." I lied, so shoot me! I have 2 dirty magazines in my room and I peeked in someone's window while they fucked, what's a little lie on top of that? A thousand Hail Mary's wouldn't even forgive it. Might as well go for broke now.

Behind that house, same time as yesterday, I tried to make sure it wasn't too obvious what I was doing in case someone saw me, but even the possibility that I'd be seen, even caught, sparked excitement. The reality of that didn't fully sink in of course.

I waited a moment for some sounds before looking in the window.

"You stud, suck my pussy ... lick my clit like I suck your cock."

I peeked. They were laying sideways across the bed today and I could see better than yesterday. Her breasts quivering as her body rocked. Her knees up, feet on the bed, knees spread wide apart. His head was between her legs. He was lapping, licking, and sucking her, just like the pictures in the magazine. My briefcase was on the ground and my hand flying up and down across my mound.

"Yeah baby, right there ... oh fuck, you really know how to suck a woman."

I managed to catch them doing something to each other each day for the rest of the week. It was my own private sex show. I even fantasized that they were fucking just for me.

Then Monday, it happened, the horrors of all horrors. "Hey you!" the voice boomed right behind me. "What do you think you're doing?" A hand now held my shoulder.

The couple stood inside the opened window, bent over, looking at the man and me.

In a soft, sensual voice, she asked "What's going on?"

"She was peeking in your window and doing nasty things. Saw her Friday too. Thought she'd be back. Don't worry, I'm going to call the cops now. She won't bother you anymore."

"Please don't! I won't do it again." I could already see the gallows to hang me, tying the knot was all that was left to do.

The woman held her hands over her chest. "I know her. Bring her around to my front door." I didn't know why she was being nice, she didn't know me at all. Anything was better than being taken to the police station.

The man pulled me by my shoulder.

"I need to get my briefcase!"

"It'll still be there later."

Now with a robe around her, the woman stood in the open doorway as we walked onto the porch. "Thanks mister. I'll talk to her."

As the man walked away, I followed the woman into the house.

"Got to run dear. Catch you this evening. Big meeting in an hour. I'll just make it."

"Bye dear!" The door shut. "Can I get you some orange juice? I'm Amy."

"Jane. Listen, ... I'm so sorry. It was ..."

She cut me off. "Don't think a thing about it. I knew you were watching from the first day. What a turn on it was knowing that. Have not had a better orgasm in a long time."

"You knew?"

"Sugar cakes, I'd seen you walk by. Knew what time you went by everyday, just like clock work. The weather was cool, but I left the window open on purpose to see if maybe you'd hear us, maybe even watch."

"Really?"

Amy leaned against the counter, her robe fell apart revealing her leg, her hand rested on the bare thigh. Her eyes looked and she knew what I was looking at. She moved her leg a little forcing the robe to open completely.

"Look better up close?"

I wanted to say 'Fuck yeah!', but simply said "You bet!" What a chicken I was.

Her hand touched herself, a finger disappeared, the knuckle moved, a hand stroked her breasts under her robe. "Tempting, but I might get in trouble if I keep this up in front of you."

"I'll be late for work."

I didn't see Amy for several weeks, didn't have the courage I guess. Then one evening she was sitting, reading a book, in the backyard as I walked home through the alley.

"Hi Jane! How is work?"

I stood over her, peering down into her cleavage, her book rested in her lap.

"Fine. Got my big project finished."

"Sit if you have time. I was hoping I might see you."

"For a minute."

I stared at her face, her almost visible breasts. She moved her book.

"You're naked!"

"A little. You don't mind do you? At least I have a shirt on."

"What does it feel like?"

"To be naked?"

"Sorry, no, no, to ..." I fumbled for words as she sat in front of me, wearing just a man's white dress shirt which wasn't even buttoned, revealing most everything. "... you know ... have someone kiss you ... your ... clit." I surprised myself at what I'd just said. I felt so bold for asking such a question.

She patiently waited for me to stumble through my thought. "Nice. Some times VERY nice. To me not as nice as when I touch myself though. Then I love to lick my fingers. Oh my God, do I love the way I taste. I don't have an orgasm until I taste myself."

"I can't believe you're saying that. That is exactly the way I feel too. I knew I couldn't be the only one. I felt so abnormal though. I was afraid to tell anyone."

"Honey, what you like to do is just fine. Don't you worry about what others think."

"What about your husband?"

"He thinks it's pretty weird when I finger myself and then lick my fingers. Oh I let him do whatever to me. He doesn't like to kiss my pussy very much. Sometimes I fake an orgasm or two just to let him think he's made my world shake. But after he's asleep and the few drops of cum he puts in me, hate to call it 'shoots' in me, has drained out onto the sheets, or drifted into space, I dip my fingers in nice and deep, scoop up some of my juices, and suck on my fingers until I drift off to sleep in the warm bliss of a 'real' orgasm."

As she talked, her fingers teased her labia, sometimes parting the lips, sometimes flicking her clit with a tip of the finger. All very matter-of-factly, much like some people nervously hold a cigarette, or tap a pencil on the desk. It was as if I wasn't sitting right there in front of her, looking.

"You know ... I did enjoy watching."

"Oh my yes. I did too when I was your age. I'll never forget one of our neighbors. How they could carry on like rabbits. My, my. I watched them often and for the longest time when I did. Always thought all men were like that one. Was I wrong about that."

"Lately I've been picturing what I saw when I'm in bed at night, my hand between my legs. Puts me over the top. Just more for me to lick off my fingers too. Now I can just think of your fingers in your mouth."

Suddenly her face scrunched up a little, she leaned back on one hand, a soft moan escaped from her lips. Her hand came up to her mouth and she licked her fingers.

"So good! Have a little housework I need to do before he comes home. Hope you can stop again ... soon."

Maybe on the way home from work. We don't have to tell anyone do we?"

"Not even Bob."

"I love secrets. Makes things seem so much more special."

"Yes Jane. Yes they do."

Now, so many years later, I still think about Amy. Don't know what happened to her. Wonder if she is still with Bob? They moved away a few months after that talk with her in the backyard. Oh, sure, I managed to watch them in bed a few more time, even talked with her in the backyard some. It never got tiring for me.

After that, I kept my eyes and ears open for a peek of some action through an open window. Once in a while I would get lucky, not often enough. Too many air conditioners. Everyone keeps their windows shut these days. Too bad.

I found that spreading my legs, revealing some upper thigh, my pussy, even fingering myself in front of strangers would satisfy some of the same needs as peeking in windows. The risk of getting caught was maybe greater, that part of the excitement higher. Overall, maybe just as good. At times I was like a junky after a fix when I would finish a flash. During it, my heart would pound so hard that I wondered if anyone could see my chest flailing in and out.

Why is it that the first time, maybe the most recent time too, are always the best? I'll never forget that first time I flashed someone. In fact not long, maybe a year, after the last time I saw Amy. I was sitting in a cafeteria, having a hamburger steak and mashed potatoes, not really very good. Even though I remember the experience, I don't remember what made me do it.

My legs were parted some, ankles crossed, knees bowed out. Maybe I was just being comfortable, not thinking about how I was sitting. I looked up and a guy was watching. I didn't know him, had never seen him, wasn't even interested in meeting him. I felt flush, my heart was beating quickly just knowing he was looking under my dress. I didn't have any panties on, rarely wore any. I sat there for a moment, then spread my knees more. Just a test to see if he was really watching me or just looking at something behind me. As my legs moved apart, he sat up more. He was definitely looking under my dress. I uncrossed my ankles and placed my feet about as far apart as my knees. I could tell he was paying more attention now. My hand slid up my thigh. His hand rested on his pants. My hand touched my pussy. His hand rubbed his crotch. We began to masturbate in sync to each other. I bit down on my fingers. His hand slid into his pants. I pulled the fingers from my pussy and licked them. He pulled his hand out of his pants and licked his fingers, then left.

I sat there, not knowing if my legs would hold me just yet. This was the most turned on I'd been in a long time, at least the few months since the last time I'd watched through a bedroom window. I actually saw this guy a few more times in the cafeteria. Each time we would do the same thing. I'm glad he never talked to me though, it would have ruined everything. He had too remain a stranger.

Over the years, I would do the same thing at least once a week, some weeks everyday. Sometimes to a man, sometimes a woman. Didn't make much difference to me. All the mattered was that a stranger was watching, looking up my dress, looking at my pussy, watching me masturbate. There were times the urge wasn't as strong, almost fading to zero for a few weeks, then returning with a hard rush. Each time, the need being greater. Sometimes I just couldn't control myself. I wondered if I should get help, but knew there was nothing that could replace these feelings I had. If I lost them, I'd be nothing, empty. That was even more terrifying than being caught.

Once I flashed a guy and it turned out to be an undercover cop. That was real scary. Managed to get off with a simple blow job, but he did threaten me with jail, court, the whole nine yards. Real scary. I laid low for a while after that. But I was so horny in a few weeks, I just had to do it again. I needed my fix.

Don't know why exactly, but I never found a partner that could satisfy me no matter how we exposed ourselves to each other. We would take turns hiding in the closet, behind bushes in the park, sitting at different tables in restaurants, nothing did it for me like with a stranger. Regular sex, what the hell was that? I tried it 'normal' ways with both men and women. Nothing, absolutely nothing, at all happened for me, not even a tiny orgasm.

So, I have always lived alone since I could afford too. Now I'm 42. Masturbating alone, and in front of strangers. I still have a copy of those 2 magazines and keep them by my bed, often flipping through the now very well worn pages, the images of the women kissing each other all over their bodies are burned forever into my mind, remembering ... remembering that day.